Underneath (14 page)

I elbow Mikaela and whisper, “I was told there would be no capes.” She pinches my arm surreptitiously. I can tell she's trying not to laugh.

Jeff/Jake continues his rant. “He thinks he's all cool be-cause he works at the Ren Faire, but it's really just an excuse to act like a snob.”

“Well, you know that guy he's always hanging out with? The one who goes to Faire in black leather armor?” Rennie says this in almost an undertone, leaning forward. The rest of the group leans in eagerly. “I think that's his
boyfriend.
”

“Nuh-uh, I could have sworn he was straight!” Jake/Jeff shakes his head. There are gasps all around. I sneak a sideways glance at Cody, who looks a little bored. Gossip: not what I expected out of the evening.

I don't know what I thought would happen, though. Reciting odes to the passing of the seasons? Mixing potions out of eye of newt?

I nudge Mikaela with my left shoulder. “Hey,” I whisper. “Check out Antonia.” Antonia is standing in the doorway, watching the party and beaming. She's holding yet another platter of cookies, and after a minute of standing there with that inane smile, she approaches the food table and sets it down.

“Here's my contribution to the evening. I'm so glad you decided to hold your celebration here! Let me know if you have any questions about solstice traditions. We have some wonderful books in the store about—”

“Thanks
so
much,” Rennie butts in, stopping the monologue. Obviously she's dealt with Antonia before. “It's great. Really. I'll let you know if we need anything.”

“Okay, well, you have a beautiful time, and I wish I could join you but I have to watch the store—oh, and don't forget to try my vegan solstice cookies,” Antonia chirps, her voice fading into the distance as she bustles out of the room.

Cody goes over and closes the door after her. Everyone else gradually sits down in a large, irregular circle on the carpet. Rennie produces a huge green candle from her bag and lights the four wicks before placing it in the center of the circle, then lights a stick of Nag Champa incense, which makes the room smell like my Pakistani grandma's house. She puts a few more items down: a prickly branch of holly complete with shiny red berries, a wilted sprig of mistletoe, a fragrant pine bough.

Rennie stands. Everyone else does, too. Mikaela and I look at each other, then at Cody. He gives us this serious look, almost concerned, then turns his attention back to Rennie, who spreads her arms wide and strikes a dramatic pose. Maybe things are finally going to get interesting.

“We are here at today's Yuletide solstice,” she intones, “to celebrate the rebirth of the God to the Goddess, in this darkest hour of winter. O God and Goddess, see our sacred fires and bless us with peace and prosperity in the newly reborn season!” She continues in the same vein for another minute, and then there's a moment of silence, in which everyone except me and Mikaela has their eyes closed and seems to be swaying slightly. Then Rennie opens her eyes and says, “Blessed be your solstice and fertile be your springtide.” I hide a smirk. This is more like what I expected, but it still seems kind of hokey.

Soon, everyone is standing up, smiling and hugging each other and saying “Good Yule to you.” It reminds me of the time I went to Catholic mass with Grandma and Grandpa Pryce in Phoenix and everyone was shaking hands and saying “Peace be with you,” only this time there's a lot more black clothing and pentagrams.

“She writes her own ritual invocations,” Cody says quietly to me. “Pretty cool, right? I've been asking her about joining a real coven somewhere, a bigger group like the one in L.A. that doesn't have so many posers.”

“Wow,” Mikaela says. She seems impressed, or at least she's pretending to be. I don't even know what a coven entails, so I just nod and smile.

A few minutes pass, and the party fragments into small groups again. Rennie and the older, more serious-looking Wiccans are hanging out by the food table. Cody, Mikaela, and I are standing with two girls and three guys who look about our age, hovering near a back door that's been propped with a book so it's slightly ajar. An icy breeze drifts through the opening.

The guy standing on Cody's right pulls out a leather drawstring bag and rummages around in it.

My heart starts beating a little faster. Now what? The more imaginative part of my mind pictures some kind of weird bloodletting ritual with candles, a stained silver knife, and people chanting. Apparently, though, I've been watching too many bad movies. The guy pulls out a pipe made of blown glass shot through with swirly colors. As if it's no big deal to be doing this with Antonia right there in the next room, he starts packing it with really pungent-smelling pot. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Rennie glance over and frown, then shrug at Jake/Jeff and the other guy she's talking to.

I shift uneasily, wondering if Antonia's going to notice and if she would tell my parents. I don't even know what would happen if she did.

The pipe makes its way around the circle. Part of me is cringing at how lame this is, how much it reminds me of something my parents might do. But another part of me can't help feeling an illicit thrill.

By the time the pipe makes its way to Cody, it's gone out. He relights it with a Zippo he whips out of his pocket, and takes a long drag. He holds it in for several seconds, and then breathes a huge, stale-smelling cloud out of the six-inch gap in the doorway.

“Nice one,” the guy who brought the pipe compliments him. And then Cody is looking at me, holding the pipe out as if he expects me to take it. I just sit there, frozen, my palms going clammy.

Am I the weird one here? I suddenly don't feel prepared for this moment. I don't actually care what my parents would say, but I don't feel comfortable with these random strangers, with Rennie and her weird eyes. I just can't do it.

Mikaela says, “Earth to Sunny. If you're not partaking, you can pass it over here.”

I gingerly take the pipe and pass it to my left. Mikaela takes a puff and passes it on in turn. Nobody seems to think anything's strange about me not taking part, so I try to relax.

After a few rounds of passing the pipe around the circle, the corner of the room is hazy with smoke despite everyone's attempts to fan the evidence out the door. Someone on the other side of the room lights another stick of incense to try to mask the smell. Even though I didn't participate, I feel lightheaded and strange. The swirling haze makes everything surreal, and the candle flames dance, casting flickering shadows.

I'm not sure how much time has passed, but it's been at least an hour, maybe two, since we got here. Rennie gestures for everyone to come together again, and motions for quiet. “Now,” she announces, “it is time to honor someone special who is here with us tonight, one who has been truly blessed by the Goddess.”

Everyone goes quiet, expectant. They're all smiling. Even I can't help being a little curious. Rennie stands tall.

“We have a true power in our midst, my friends, someone genuinely touched by the mysteries of nature. Who granted these blessings?” Rennie waves her arm, her diaphanous silver scarf billowing from her shoulder and trailing through the air as she paces back and forth before the group. “Was it the great Horned One? Was it the Threefold Goddess in her infinite wisdom?” There's a dramatic pause.

I have to resist the sudden urge to laugh hysterically. But I'm unaccountably nervous again, too. My heart races. Maybe it's a contact high, or too much champagne.

“What is the true purpose of those who are chosen?” Rennie is looking right at me, as if I have the answers she wants. The moment stretches out for what seems like an hour. I shift my legs uncomfortably. The more she stares at me, the more I'm getting this creepy feeling like I want to run out of the room.

Finally, Rennie continues. “Perhaps, children of the Goddess … perhaps tonight we will find out.”

In that minute I realize that not just Rennie is looking at me.
Everybody
is looking at me.

thirteen

“Sunny?” Rennie asks, leaning in closely, her green eyes boring into mine. “Will you be favoring us with a demonstration of your … ability?”

I stand up. My head spins, and my throat is dry and scratchy. I swallow uncomfortably.

I look around the circle, my eyes falling on face after eager face, all looking at me expectantly, almost hungrily. There's a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Somebody told them about my underhearing.

And Mikaela is the only one who knows.

I look at her, but she doesn't meet my eyes. She just looks miserably at the floor. I look at Cody. He smiles at me almost earnestly. Suddenly, everything becomes crystal clear, and then I really start to feel like the walls are closing in. I don't want to be around any of these people any more, these strangers who know my secret.

“I have to go,” I manage to whisper, and I run out of the room. Rushing through the store, I hear Antonia say something questioningly, but I don't stop, I just push out the front door and keep going until I'm almost at the other end of the strip mall. I stand hidden in the shadow of a dark storefront, gulping in breaths of cold night air. A chilly breeze blows my neatly brushed hair into whorls and tangles, but I don't care.

I bend forward, my hands on my knees, until the cold air starts to clear my head. And I realize this:

One—these so-called Wiccans know about my underhearing and want me to be some kind of freak show for their personal amusement. Two—the only person I told about my underhearing was Mikaela. Three—Mikaela has never hung out with the Wiccan group before. She couldn't have told them. But Cody could have.

Since I doubt Cody has mind-reading powers of his own, that means Mikaela told him.

I squeeze my eyes shut, turn toward the wall, and press my forehead against the rough stucco. This explains a lot of the strange things he's said over the past week, like him having a “feeling” I'd really be interested in the solstice party.

I can't believe her. She had no right to say anything to anyone, not even Cody. I might have told him myself, eventually. But it's my secret to keep or give out. And I don't want to be put on display for a roomful of random strangers.

Then I realize another thing.

There's only one reason I can see for Mikaela breaking my trust. One reason why she'd tell Cody, even when I told her not to say anything to anyone.

Mikaela
wants
Cody. So badly she'll tell him anything to keep his attention.

I feel sick, and stupid. It seems so obvious to me now. All the little looks, the teasing, the play-fighting. She's completely hopeless when it comes to Cody.

And
, says a tiny, mean voice inside me,
she was there first
.

When the door of the bookstore opens and Cody comes out alone, I can't even look at him. My jaw tightens. I try to stay still, hidden in the shadows. I hear his footsteps, though, and I know he's seen me. He leans against the wall next to me in his ripped, patched black blazer and puts a hand on my arm. I pull away with a jerk, but I can still feel the heat on my skin where he rested his hand.

“Are you okay?”

I look up and stare at him, hard.

“No,” I finally respond, forcing the answer out through gritted teeth. I turn away.

He sighs and leans back against the wall. “Look, I'm sorry about what happened in there.”

“Whatever.” I start stalking toward my car, my head down. “You and Mikaela can have each other.”

He follows me, a few paces behind. “Oh, come on—it wasn't that big a deal, was it? I thought Mikaela was joking, like you knew some kind of fun party trick. Like the
8 Ball. I figured everyone would get a kick out of it.”

I walk faster. “She told you my one big secret, you guys talked about me behind my back, and now
everyone
knows my secret. Yeah, no big deal,” I say caustically, my voice getting louder. “But you don't know. You don't know what it's been like.” I stop; turn to face him. “It's real, and it's horrible, Cody.”

“Hey,” he says softly. “Shh. I didn't know.” There's a long pause and I clench my car keys in my hand. “Listen … if something weird
is
happening to you, maybe you could use some backup, you know, in trying to figure it out. Rennie and her friends are into that kind of thing. They might be able to help. She understands more than you think. She can see people's auras. She says it's a gift.”

I look at him again, not sure what to believe. He looks sincere now. Serious.

“It's none of their business,” I say. “It's nobody's business.” But there's a tiny doubting part of me that wonders: maybe if I'd been honest with him from the beginning, I wouldn't be in this situation. And maybe Mikaela wouldn't have decided to blurt out something exciting in order to impress him. Or if I hadn't told her? What then?

I don't know what to do. I don't know what I should have done.

I duck my head and take a step backward, away from him, toward the car.

“I just think you should think about it, is all,” he says, insistently. “Maybe do some practicing on your own, try to figure out how it works.” He takes a step toward me, his eyes glittering in the reflected light from the street lamp. “I know if it was me, I'd feel a lot better having some control over what was happening to me.”

I feel a surge of anger. Even though part of me wants to tell him everything, he seems to already
know
everything.

“Like I said, it's my business.” I face him with my arms crossed. We glare at each other silently for a minute, and then I'm not angry any more, but deadly calm. In that next moment, I see something in his eyes that looks like hurt, and I
feel
something—some kind of burning intensity of emotion that I don't know how to interpret.

—have to—

if I could just—she has to understand—

There's a bitter orange-rind taste on my tongue. Then, as quickly as I felt it, the flash of emotion is gone. Like his expression, all I get is a blank. He smiles. It doesn't reach his eyes.

I shiver. Suddenly I'm freezing, and I pull the sleeves of my sweater over my hands. But I continue staring daggers at him, because it doesn't matter what he's thinking, or even what he's feeling. It matters what he
did
. “You owe me an apology.”

“I know,” he finally says. “I'm sorry. I should have asked you before telling Rennie about it. I didn't know they'd put you on the spot like that.” He puts his hand on my shoulder for a second and then lets it fall back to his side. I don't jerk away this time, but I'm still angry.

“Yeah, you should have asked,” I say. And Mikaela should have asked before telling
him
. “Let's just drop it. I'm going to go. Can you give Mikaela a ride home?”

“Yeah, but she wants to talk to you first. She feels bad.”

She should feel bad. I'm almost too furious to talk to her, but I guess I should give her a chance to explain herself.

Cody goes back in to get Mikaela. I linger outside, wishing I'd caught more than that momentary glimpse into his mind. He's always so guarded. And I'm never a hundred percent calm around him, can never quite focus properly, no matter how hard I try.

“Sunny!” I turn slowly. “Leaving without telling me?” Mikaela's falsely cheerful tone gets on my nerves. I stand there, not moving, keys dangling in my hand.

“You don't mind me staying a little longer, right?” Mi-kaela says, tentatively. “I can hitch a ride back with someone. I always wanted to ride a broomstick.”

I don't laugh.

“Sunny, talk to me! I know it was kind of a weird scene in there, but it wasn't that bad, was it?” She sounds hopeful, like she wants to hear me say it's all okay. But it isn't okay. I want to hear her apologize, want to know that she feels bad. My hands ball up into fists.

“You told Cody,” I say, my voice shrill. “I trusted you. How could you think it was okay to tell him? You didn't even ask me.” There's total silence for about a minute, while I stare out at the darkened parking lot and Mikaela looks down at her feet.

Finally, she looks up. “I don't know why you're making such a big thing out of this,” she says. “It's not like anything bad happened.”

“A big thing?” I look at her in shock. I can't believe
she
has the nerve to sound annoyed. My head throbs.

“Yeah, a big thing! It's just Cody, for Christ's sake. I didn't think you'd care if I told
him
. But hey, I'm sorry. It just kind of slipped out.”

“I didn't want you to tell anybody! Not Cody, and definitely not anyone else. This isn't just a ‘fun party trick.' It's serious, and I'm scared.” I cross my arms tightly across my chest. “I didn't ask for any of this. It's a problem I might have to live with for the rest of my life!” I feel an eerie echo of Shiri's voice in my words, and I take a breath to calm myself down.

“I already apologized. I don't know what more you want.” Mikaela says. She stares sullenly out at the dark parking lot.

“I want tonight to have never happened. I don't want anyone to know! I don't want Cody to think I'm a freak.” I pace back and forth, gritting my teeth.

“He doesn't think you're a freak,” she says, exasperated. “Who even cares what he thinks, anyway? This is all his fault.”

“Yeah, but … ” She's right—this is his fault. Not all of it, but some of it. I think about the warm feeling of Cody's hand on my arm, his distinctive smell of clove cigarettes and soap, his smile. Then I think about how he told the Wiccans about me; how he stole the Magic 8 Ball without even thinking twice about it. How he brought me into a totally uncomfortable situation without even telling me what was going to happen. Maybe Spike was right about him. I sigh heavily.

“You
like
him, don't you?” Mikaela says suddenly. Her voice goes hard and flat. “That explains a lot.” Her shoulders sag, and she leans against the lamppost behind her.

The silence stretches on for what seems like an eternity. I'm not even completely sure how I feel about Cody, but I still can't help feeling drawn to him. I don't know what to tell her. And her accusatory tone isn't helping. “
You LIKE him, don't you?”
Like she's one to talk.

“We're just friends. It's not like anything's going on.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Mikaela says. “You're mad at
me
, but you're all worried about what he's going to think of you? It's so obvious.” She picks idly at the bracelet I gave her earlier that evening. “You know, you could've told me you like him. Isn't that what friends are supposed to do, share important feelings and bullshit like that?”

“I don't know how I feel, okay?”

“Sure you don't.” Her voice is bitter. “I told you about my mom. My family. I don't just tell that to everyone. That's important to
me.
I shared that with you.” I hear her take a deep, shaky breath. “The least you could do is be straight with me about liking Cody. If you can't even be honest about that, how do I know you told me the truth about anything else? How do I know you didn't just make it up for attention?”

I jerk my head up to glare at her. I know she's just angry, that she can't possibly mean it, but I can't seem to control myself.

“I don't need attention,” I say in a furious whisper. My voice is raw and rough. “I don't
want
attention. That's why this whole night was such a disaster. You don't understand what it's been like for me. Nobody does! Those stupid people at the party have no idea. Obviously you don't, either.”

“Are you saying I'm stupid?” Her voice is dangerously quiet.

“I'm not saying you're stupid. I'm just saying you don't understand.”

“Oh, I understand
.
I understand a lot. I understand you want other people to feel sorry for you and all
your
problems. Well, other people have problems, too, and if you really could
read minds
or whatever, you'd know that.”

I stand there, stunned. Mikaela almost flings herself back in the direction of the bookstore and disappears inside.

I don't watch her go.

I don't sit there wallowing in my problems.

I don't even think about what's going to happen now that Cody knows my secret.

Because all of a sudden, I understand something, too. Confusing and messy and impossible as my life has been, as envious and even threatened as I've felt by Mikaela's confidence, her individuality, her artistic talent, her interesting friends …
she's
felt threatened by
me
.

Mikaela is scared of me.

And it feels terrible.

From Shiri Langford's journal, May 2nd

I only have a couple more weeks to bring my grades up before the end of the semester. I was able to talk Professor Macken into giving me an extra-credit assignment, but the rest of my classes are depending on finals. I have to keep my grades high enough to keep my tennis scholarship. I have to.

When I talked to Mom on Friday, she said something really weird, something that made me wonder about THAT and why it's happening and whether she knows more than she's letting on. I didn't exactly tell her everything, but I told her that sometimes I feel like I know what other people are thinking, and it makes me sad, and she said this: Shiri, sweetie, there are a lot of grim things in this world, a lot of unpleasant people. But no matter what's happening, you can't control what other people think, even if it makes you sad; you can't change them. You can only change your own mind and your own life.