Vengeance (22 page)

And I guess that answered that.

My furniture was in my room, but it was in all the wrong places. Someone had removed it all to fix the drywall and the floors and then rearranged it themselves. Even the clothes in my closet had been randomly stuffed in there. I mean, it was kind of random to begin with. But this was random in the wrong way.

It seemed like a pain in the ass to move my furniture around without scratching the floors, which would piss off my mom. And honestly, there wasn’t really anything
wrong
with the way it was set up now. So I fell back onto my bed.

I took a nap.

I slept like the dead.

Justin’s call woke me up sometime in the afternoon. “Can you pick me up to night?”

I yawned, trying to orient myself. “Can’t Janna pick you up?”

He paused. “She’s freaked out by the whole Cold of Death thing,” he said.

“Speaking of … I thought you felt like death,” I said.

“I did, but I took Kevin’s advice and doped up. I feel excellent. I drove last time.”

“Your brothers drove last time,” I said.

“It counts,” he said.

I sighed, because it did. “Fine. But I’m not waiting around for you.” I wasn’t really in the mood to go at all. But the house had no electricity yet, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t cold out from under my covers. My mom was probably having dinner at the Maxwells’. And I didn’t know what Delaney was up to. She didn’t usually go to parties. I dragged her to one last year, and she walked in on me kissing Tara.

It was before we were together, but it sucked. Seeing her face, I mean. It really sucked.

I picked Justin up late, mostly because I was being an ass. I was still wearing the most nondescript clothes I owned, pretty much what I wore every day. Justin wasn’t dressed up either. At least, not that I could tell. He slammed my car door and shook the ice off his coat. “I was about to call a cab or something,” he said.

“Sorry. Couldn’t decide what to wear.” The windshield wipers cut through the sleet, like broken glass. “Have you been there?” I asked.

“No,” he said. “It’s only like three doors down from Maya though.”

“I’m sure her mom will be thrilled,” I mumbled.

“Should be perfectly awkward.”

“Excellent.”

And it was. Justin and I drove by his lake house—the lights were on, and cars were already overflowing down the street, bordering Maya’s yard. Cars were stacked in front of the house
three doors down, in the driveway, off the driveway, anywhere they could find space. No secret what was going on there. We parked along the street, directly in front of Maya’s place.

The house was weird, pretty much the opposite of Justin’s lake house. It was narrow and two stories, and it had been taken over by purple. Purple couches and a purple throw rug and purple paintings. “What the hell?” Justin asked as we stepped inside.

Kevin saw us from across the room and pushed through a group of people.

“Uh, your mom like purple much?” Justin asked.

“It was the renters,” he said. “And I don’t think they liked purple, seeing as they left it all behind.”

“You didn’t dress up,” Justin said. Not that we had either, but still.

Kevin said, “Yeah, I was just trying to get you fuckers to do it.” He shrugged. Smiled. “Coolers out back. Later.” And he was gone, disappearing back into the crowd.

Someone waved frantically from the purple couch. Even though she was wearing a blond wig and way too much makeup, it wasn’t hard to see Tara in the way her skirt was too short and her boots were propped on a coffee table, crossed at the ankle. I tapped Justin’s shoulder and headed toward her.

Justin gestured that he was going to find a drink. Tara scooted over to make room for me on the couch. “Who are you supposed to be?” she yelled over the noise.

“Anyone,” I said. “You?”

She ran her hands down the long hair that wasn’t hers. Blinked slowly with long eyelashes that weren’t hers. Put a finger on her bottom lip, a color that definitely wasn’t hers. “Maine Barbie. Isn’t it obvious?”

“Ahh, the fur boots. Dead giveaway.”

“Hey,” Justin had a can of beer in each hand as he walked toward us, big smile on his face. “Barbie, right?”

She turned to me. “See? Obvious.” She scooted closer to me so Justin had room. I was wedged against the side of the couch, and Tara was practically in my lap. She took one of the drinks from Justin. “Thanks, babe.”

I moved my arm out of the way, over the couch behind her, and she rested her head on my chest as she took a sip. “I mean, I don’t get it,” she said, like we were in the middle of a conversation.

“Get what?” I asked.

She nodded across the room. At Maya and Kevin. “It. Her. What does he see in her? She’s so … scrawny.”

Justin said, “Are you looking at her? Come on.” Maya was wearing understated, tight clothes. The only way she dressed up was by wearing a mask over her eyes—it was black, with feathers—she could’ve been a bird, an angel, a demon. And Justin had a very solid point.

“Seriously, Justin? Way to kick a girl when she’s down.” And just in case the weight of her head on my chest wasn’t a dead giveaway, her words let me know she was hammered. No way would Tara Spano admit she was down.

“But you’re totally hotter,” Justin said.

“Uh-huh.”

“She’s just … mysterious. Mysteriously hot.”

I smacked the back of Justin’s head.

“I’m not mysterious?” she said, scowling at him. No, she was decidedly not mysterious, with her short skirt and low-cut shirt and her hand on my leg.

“He’s a moron,” I said. “His loss.”

She patted my leg. Turned her face to me. “Thanks, Deck.” Her face was turned up, so I could smell the beer on her breath, see the sparkles she had applied over her eyes. “But you totally did the same thing.”

I didn’t. Not really. Tara and I were never a real thing, not something that would last, and she knew it. I was low, and she was lonely. But I didn’t say that. Not when she was low. Not when I was lonely. “I’m sorry.”

She sighed and rested her head back on my chest. “I forgive you.” Then she tilted her face up so her breath, her lips, brushed my neck. “Want to get out of here?” she whispered.

I did. But not with her. “You’re drunk,” I said. “But I’ll drive you home.”

“Don’t bother.” She dropped her feet from the table to the floor. Smoothed the wig down over her brown hair. “I just want to know,” she said, leaning forward and bracing herself on my knees so I could see straight down her shirt. Her fingers tightened on my legs. “I want to know if you’re saying no to me”—and she jutted her thumb across the room—“or if you’re saying yes to her.”

I followed her thumb and saw her. Delaney was standing
across from some guy, nodding. Except she wasn’t dressed like Delaney at all. She was dressed exactly like Maya. They’d probably gotten ready together. Tight black shirt. Low cut. And her hair was loose and wavy, and she wore that mask over her eyes, same as Maya, the elastic dark against her light hair. Her boots had heels, which made me think they definitely weren’t hers. And some guy was standing way too close to her.

I felt my hands clenching into fists.

“So?” she asked. “Which is it? You don’t want me? Or you
do
want her?”

“You’re drunk,” I said again. But what I really meant to say was
you’re sad
.

“And you’re an asshole,” she said. She narrowed her eyes. “Her or me. Just say it.”

I nodded. Looked at the jewels on the side of her eyes. Looked at her perfectly manicured nails on my leg. Closed my eyes. “I want her,” I whispered.

Of course I did.

“Okay then.” She pushed up off me, reached a hand out to the nearest body to steady herself. “Plenty of boys out there, right?” There was one who’d just walked in, in a generic drugstore plastic mask, checking her out already. She’d never have a shortage of guys.

Justin put his leg on the table to block her path. “Hey, right here. Boy.” He pointed to himself and smiled.

“Aww,” Tara said, bending over and kissing the top of his head. “You’re sweet.” Then she stepped over his leg and disappeared into the crowd.

“Dude,” Justin said. “What gives?”

“Probably the fact that you’re with Janna?”

“Tell that to Janna. It kind of depends on her mood. And right now, she’s ignoring me,” he said.

“Uh-huh,” I said, but I was staring at Delaney. I was staring at the way someone else was staring at Delaney. “Hold on,” I said.

“I see,” Justin said.

“Be right back,” I said.

“Sure you will.”

I pushed through the crowd—a wing hit me in the face. An angel, I guess. Or a butterfly. She saw me coming. I pointed to her, then to the hall, even though I had no idea where it led. She blinked and turned her attention back to the guy who kept talking and talking.

I pushed past a witch and then a vampire and a few more costumes, until I was standing at her side. “I need to talk to you,” I said, my fingers on her elbow.

She looked down at her arm. At my face. Up close, her mask had these pink feathers that perfectly matched her mouth. The guy she was talking to was staring at that mouth.

“Okay,” she said. But she pulled her arm away from me as she led the way down the hall, weaving through people. The first door she tried was locked. The one at the end of the hall was closed, but unlocked. An office. No bed.

I closed the door behind us and leaned against it. “Who was that?” I asked.

“Who?” she shrugged. “The guy from my English class? Decker, what is it?”

“Are you trying to make me jealous?”

Her eyes grew wide behind the mask. “Yes,” she said. “Obviously. That’s at the top of my list of things to do. Make Decker jealous. I’m sorry, am I not allowed to speak to other people now?”

I shook my head. “What are you wearing? Why the hell are you dressed like that?”

“Because it’s Halloween,” she said. Her teeth were gritting together. “And today I’m someone other than me.”

“No, you’re exactly you. You’re just the part of you that’s supposed to belong to me.”

“
Belong
to you? That’s
hilarious
. The only reason you’re even looking at me right now is because I
don’t
look like me.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and gritted my teeth together. “Because when I look at you,” I said, and I felt my voice growing louder, “I can’t remember why I’m mad.”

She froze. I froze.

“I mean, I know why. But I don’t care. How messed up is that?”

“Decker …”

“Tell me. How screwed up am I? I’m furious. And then I see you and I don’t care.” I was yelling. Just not at her.

Then she moved her fingers to the mask, lifted it up off her face. Let it float to the floor. There were lines around her eyes, where the mask had pressed into her skin. And a crease through her hair. I ran a thumb along the line on her cheek.

“I am so fucking mad,” I whispered.

And then it clicked. In me. In her. I saw her get it. “Not at me,” she whispered back.

“Not at you,” I answered.

She stepped closer, then reached past me, for the doorknob. Turned the lock.

“Open your eyes,” she said. I didn’t realize I had closed them. I listened to her, and all I could see was her, nothing but her. And suddenly both my hands were in her hair, and my mouth was on hers. I was gone.

She pushed me back into the door, and the sound of us echoed through the empty room. And then the door on the far wall flung open, and Janna had one hand over her eyes, one hand in the air. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m leaving!”

Delaney started laughing into my chest. Janna kept talking. “I was in the bathroom and then you guys were here, and then I thought I’d just wait you out. …”

“You can open your eyes, Janna.”

She lowered her hand but couldn’t quite look at us. “Ugh. I thought you were fighting, but this encounter has taken an unexpected turn. And I’m sorry, I don’t want to wait that out.”

We stepped to the side as she hurried for the door. “
Really
,” she said to me as she passed. She slammed the door behind her, and I looked around the sterile room. Empty room with cold furniture.

“Let’s go home,” I whispered in her ear. She nodded against my chest, her arms still wrapped around me.

I couldn’t let her go as we walked through the party. Like this was a spell, and the moment we broke apart, it would be over. So she walked, and I walked behind her, my arms wrapped around her waist. I saw Justin standing with Janna
now, and he caught my eye and shook his head. Guess he knew he’d be finding his own ride home.

“Jacket?” I asked her.

“I don’t know. Maya took it, and she and Kevin are … who knows. Just … leave it.”

I shrugged mine off and watched her slide her arms inside, the sleeves too long. She wrapped it around herself and smiled at me.

Gone.

We ran to my car—well, I tried to run, but with the heels on her shoes and the ice on the ground, mostly I just ended up half carrying her at nowhere near a run.

I kissed her against the side of the minivan. My hands were inside my jacket. On her. And all I could think of was the time I’d spent not kissing her. I felt her shudder.

“You’re cold,” I said.

“I’m not,” she said.

But I unlocked her door anyway. Watched as she slid into the seat. Closed her door, feeling safe. Feeling like everything was back. Normal. The way it was supposed to be.

I walked around the van, closed my door. Smiled at her sitting beside me, rubbing her hands together. She folded her hands inside my jacket and leaned forward, toward the heater. I thought about turning the heat on and not going home at all. And since she didn’t buckle her seat belt or anything, I knew she was thinking the same thing. I turned the key in the ignition, and the running lights lit up the edge of Falcon Lake.

I leaned forward and flipped the wipers on to clear the ice, thinking of all the places we could go to be alone.

The windshield wipers screeched against the window.

Her hands were gripping the dashboard, and she was leaning forward, and I could see the way her entire body tensed.