The Dark Divine (10 page)

April gave me a hug. “It’s going to be okay.”

But how could she know that? She hadn’t felt how strange it was to eat dinner at the table by myself, or heard the way my parents shouted at each other. But I guess April
would
know how those things felt. She moved here when her parents split when she was fourteen, and her mom’s work hours had been getting longer and longer lately. I’d invited her to our Thanksgiving dinner so she wouldn’t have to spend the day alone.

None of that seemed “okay” to me.

Barlow came out of his office. He dumped a box of empty Pepsi cans on his desk and went to work without any instruction to the class.

“Do you want to go to the café for lunch today?” I asked April. “Jude totally wouldn’t mind if we just showed up. In fact, I think he could use the change.”

April bit her lip. “Okay,” she said. “He could probably use some consoling.” She half frowned, but trembled in that excited way of hers.

LUNCH

It usually took
a lot
of coaxing to get April to come with me to the Rose Crest Café. And the few times she had come, she’d hung back from the group with Miya, Claire, Lane, and a few of the other juniors who
watched the seniors with nervous reverence. April was so like my old dog Daisy that way. She had a lot of yap and spunk when it was just the two of us, but she totally cowered in most social situations.

Except today she seemed like a totally different breed.

We had been there only long enough to order our food before she was the center of attention, talking animatedly about her trip to Hollywood with her dad last summer. Brett Johnson and Greg Divers were practically drooling at her feet, but when Jude came through the door, she ditched them and went to his side. Within a matter of minutes, they were sitting together in a corner booth. April patted his hand sympathetically as he spoke to her in low, confidential tones.

“Wow,” Pete said as he pulled up a chair next to me. “I can’t believe April’s cracked his stoic shell.” He tipped his soda can toward Jude. “I haven’t gotten a word out of him all day. In fact, he’s been acting strange for almost a week now.”

“I know what you mean,” I said, and picked at the uneaten sandwich on my tray.

“You doing okay?” Pete asked.

“Yeah. Just tired of being sad.” What’s weird is that the only time I hadn’t felt sad or hurt all day was the few minutes I’d spent with Daniel. But maybe that’s just because he’s so darn aggravating.

Pete tapped his soda can. “Well, I had fun the other
night,” he said with a slight upturn in his voice like it was a question.

“Me, too,” I said, even though “fun” wasn’t how I’d describe Friday evening.

“I plan on calling in that rain check for bowling, you know.” Pete grinned. “It’ll give me a chance to prove I’ve got better skills than my ability to fix a car.”

“Good.” I glanced down at my tray. “But give me some time.”

Pete’s grin wavered. “Oh, okay.” He started to scoot away.

“Things are really crazy right now,” I said quickly. “You know, with Maryanne and Thanksgiving and everything. I just won’t have time for a … uh … date for a while.” I half smiled. “I am looking forward to it, though.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he said.

“See you in chem.” I jumped out of my seat. “I’ll let you be my shoulder to cry on when we get our tests back,” I said, and went to collect my best friend from my brother.

FIFTH PERIOD

“Jude asked me out for coffee this afternoon!” April squealed as we crossed the street to the school.

“That’s nice.” I kept walking, my feet keeping pace with the chirping of the crosswalk meter.

“That’s it?” April padded up behind me. “You’re supposed to freak out and jump and down for joy with me.” She grabbed my sleeve. “Are you mad?”

“No.”
Yes
. “I am excited for you.”
Not
. “It’s just that …”
You’re supposed to be
my
best friend
. “Jude’s acting really weird lately. Now doesn’t seem like the best time for you to try to be his girlfriend.”

“Or maybe now is when he needs a girlfriend the most,” she said with a trill of excitement. “Come on, Grace. Be happy for me. You went out with Pete, and he’s one of Jude’s best friends.” She smiled all sheepish and innocent. “And it’s just coffee anyway.”

I smiled.
“Just
coffee, huh?”

“Okay, so the best freaking cup of coffee I’ll ever have!” April popped on her toes. “Come on, be excited for me.”

I laughed. “Okay, I’m excited.”

We got to class a few minutes before the bell. Daniel leaned back in his seat, tearing scratch paper into strips and rolling them into tiny wads. I had to pass him to get to my supply bucket. My back was to him when I felt something plink against my head. A paper ball landed at my feet.

“Hey, Grace,” Daniel stage-whispered.

I ignored him and rummaged in my bucket. Another paper ball hit my head and stuck in my hair. I nonchalantly dislodged it.

“Graa-ciee,” he intoned like a hyena calling its prey.

I collected my supplies and made my way back to my seat. He flicked another paper wad, and it bounced off my cheek. I kept my eyes averted. I wanted to be finished with him. I wanted to tell myself that I’d fulfilled my duty. I’d done what I said I was going to do. But really, I knew I hadn’t. Getting him back into this class was just the first phase of my plan. I still had to find out what had happened between Daniel and Jude so I could fix it. And since Jude wasn’t going to tell me, I knew I had to get that information from Daniel. But I couldn’t face him yet. I still hated the way he’d made me want to forget—even for a moment—who I was.

How could I help Daniel find his way, without losing mine?

AFTER SCHOOL

“So what are you going to do?” April asked as we hiked through the parking lot separating the school from the parish.

I unrolled my chem test and stared at the red
D
marked on the page, followed by a scribbled note from Mrs. Howell:
Please have parent sign your test. Return after the holiday
. “I don’t know,” I said. “Dad usually handles this sort of thing the best, but I don’t want to bug him right now. And Mom’s all hopped up in Martha Stewart mode, so if I show her this, she’ll
probably make me drop art next semester.”

“No way,” April said. “Maybe you should sign it yourself.”

“Yeah, right. You know I can’t do that.” I rolled the test up again and stuck it into my back pocket. “He’s here!” April yelped.

Jude pulled up to the curb in front of the parish in the Corolla. He was picking April up here for their “coffee date.” I waved to him, but he didn’t wave back.

“Lipstick check.” April smiled so I could inspect her teeth.

“You’re good,” I said, not really looking. I watched Jude idling in front of the parish. He had that stony look on his face.

“Good luck with the test,” April said, positively shaking.

“Hey.” I reached out and took her hand. “Have a good time. And … watch out for Jude for me, okay? Let me know if he needs anything.”

“Will do.” April squeezed my hand and then bounded across the rest of the parking lot to the Corolla. I was surprised Jude didn’t get out to open the door for her—not very Jude-like at all. But at least his expression softened slightly when she hopped into the car.

As much as I wasn’t too keen on the idea of my best friend dating my brother, I hoped Pete was right about April—that she could crack Jude’s stoic shell when nobody else could.

AT THE PARISH

After Jude and April drove away, I pulled my rolled-up test out of my pocket and went down the alley between the parish and the school. I stopped at my father’s outer office door and tentatively listened for signs of life. I figured Dad was still the best bet for signing off on my grade, plus I wanted to check on how he was doing, but I had no idea if he had even ventured out of his study at the house yet. My question was answered before I could even knock on the door.

“I can’t do this anymore,” I heard someone say. The strained voice sounded somewhat like my father’s. “I can’t do it again.”

“I didn’t mean to,” someone else said. It was a masculine but childish voice. “I didn’t mean to scare nobody.”

“But you did,” the first voice said, and this time I was certain it belonged to my father. “This is the third time this year. I can’t help you again.”

“You promised. You promised you’d help me. You fix things. That’s what you do.”

“I’m done!” my father shouted.

I knew I shouldn’t, but I pushed open the door and saw Don Mooney throw his hands over his head. He wailed like a gigantic baby.

“Dad!” I yelled over Don’s cries. “What on earth is going on?”

Dad looked at me, startled that I was suddenly there. Don noticed me, too. He fell quiet, trembling in his chair. Fluid streamed from his nose and his great, swollen melon eyes.

Dad sighed. His shoulders slumped like the weight on them had increased tenfold. “Don decided to take his knife to work. Again.” Dad pointed at the hauntingly familiar dagger that lay on his desk. It was the same knife Don had once held to my father’s throat. “He scared off a bunch of customers, and Mr. Day fired him. Again.”

“I didn’t know he’d been fired before.”

Don cringed.

“That’s because I always smooth things over. Don screws up, and I fix it.” Dad sounded so distant, not with the normal kindness and compassion so characteristic of his deep, melodic voice. His face sagged with lack of sleep, his eyes shadowed by dark circles. “I try and I try to fix everything for everyone, and look where it’s gotten me. I can’t help anymore. I only make things worse. Both of them are on their own.”

“Both?” I asked.

Don wailed, cutting me off.

“Dad, this is Don we’re talking about,” I said, shocked at the sudden rush of feeling I had for the blubbering man—even with his knife so close by. “You weren’t trying to scare anyone, were you?”

“No, Miss Grace.” Don’s huge lower lip quivered.
“Them people were already afraid. They was talking about the monster—the one that tried to eat Maryanne. So I showed them my knife. It’s pure silver. My great-great-grandpa used it to kill monsters. My granddaddy told me so. All my ancestors took an oath to kill monsters. I was showing the people that I could stop the monster before it—”