Awry

30

Several uneventful weeks went by for Scarlet. January turned into February and the fair was right around the corner. Which wouldn’t have been such a bad thing, except Kristy Stevens would not shut up about finding a date.

To the fair.

Because that was a thing, apparently.

“Aaron gave me a ride in his new car the other night.” Kristy pulled a strand of her long, blond hair over her shoulder and started twisting it between her fingers as she sat beside Scarlet in class. “It was pretty awesome.”

They were supposed to be mixing beakers and stirring solvents or something, but Kristy wasn’t much help and Scarlet couldn’t care less about chemistry.

They were an awful team.

“That sounds…awesome,” Scarlet said.

What she meant to say was, “I don’t care.”

Kristy sighed dramatically. “I haven’t decided who I want to go to the fair with yet.”

Scarlet watched her lab partner’s eyes slide around the room, lingering on a few different boys—all of whom smiled back at her.

Scarlet examined Kristy. People at school always got Heather and Kristy mixed up, and Scarlet had never understood why.

Sure, they both had blond hair and brown eyes. And they both tended to be in chipper moods at all times.

But Kristy was nothing like Heather.

Heather was real.

Kristy was fake.

“I think Aaron will probably ask me if I drop enough hints.” Kristy looked at the blond boy sitting at the table next to them and gave a flirty smile.

Scarlet looked at Kristy’s low-cut shirt. “I’m sure you’ve already dropped plenty of hints.”

Kristy’s eyes darted to Scarlet and sharpened. Her voice dripped with artificial honey. “I sure hope you and Gabriel last until the fair. You’re such a cute couple. I’d hate to see you guys fizzle out.”

Scarlet lifted a defensive brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Kristy shrugged and looked at her chemistry book. “It just seems like you and Gabriel aren’t really…hot anymore. You used to touch and kiss and stuff. But now the two of you just…talk.”

She said talk like it was a bad word.

“We’re hot,” Scarlet insisted. “We’re super hot. We’re on fire.”

What was Scarlet saying? They were on fire?

Who was in charge of her words?

Kristy smiled sweetly and looked at Scarlet sympathetically. “I’m sure you are, dear.”

Dear? Did she just call me dear?

Scarlet straightened her shoulders. “Just because we don’t make out in the hallway and grope each other in between class periods, doesn’t mean we’re not crazy for each other.”

Right?

Scarlet broke out in a cold sweat and added, “Because we are crazy for each other. We’re crazy hot. We’re…we’re—”

“On fire?” Kristy batted her lashes and Scarlet almost jabbed one of her pretty brown eyes with a stirring stick.

“Yes.” Scarlet looked back at her chemistry book and tried to compose her temper.

The only reason she and Gabriel hadn’t been…close lately was because every time Gabriel tried to kiss her, Scarlet pulled away, afraid that she’d feel Tristan again.

But she and Gabriel were on fire.

Or, at least, they were hot.

Or warm.

Or maybe they were on the back burner.

The cold sweat was back again and chemistry class couldn’t end fast enough.

Tristan heaved the remainder of the rotted wood, furniture and other miscellaneous wreckage out of the shack just as the sun was setting behind the thick February clouds. He dusted off his hands. He’d spent the last few weeks stripping the shack bare and fixing it up.

He’d stocked up on food, blankets and other necessities and it was beginning to look like a cabin.

There was a grown-over access road not far from the shack that he’d used to drive in a new bed and appliances, and he’d managed to repair all the holes in the roof.

The only thing left to fix now was the fireplace. He trudged back into the small house and breathed through the pain that throbbed in his core.

It was getting worse. Scarlet; their connection.

It was getting harder to do anything at all without have to take multiple breaks. If he didn’t know better, he’d guess Scarlet was a continent away, not just miles.

But he knew better.

He could feel her, strong and steady, tugging at his insides. She was close.

Not close enough to relieve him of pain, but close enough for him to run to if need-be.

Making his way to the kitchen, he opened a water bottle and started to chug. Finishing his water, Tristan set the empty bottle down on the counter, wincing as a shot of pain coursed through him.

He breathed in. He breathed out. And he walked to the fireplace.

He had work to do.

After school had ended and Scarlet and Heather were headed to the cabin, Scarlet was still irritated by Kristy’s words. And she hadn’t been able to shake her paranoia about Laura, either. And Tristan’s heart was pumping heavier than ever before, a pulsing reminder that he was gone.

Agh.

Everything was driving her crazy.

Scarlet exhaled through her teeth as she stared out the passenger window of Heather’s car. Her eyes hadn’t flashed since the night Tristan left and she felt stronger than ever.

But something inside her was empty and weak. She closed her eyes and tried to feel Tristan. It took a few moments before she tapped into his soul. He was determined…tired… lonely….

Scarlet’s heart kicked.

Heather whipped her small car down the cabin’s dirt driveway, a cloud of brown dirt kicking up behind them as she sped forward and slammed on her brakes to park.

Heather was a terrible driver.

“Okeydokey,” she said, grabbing her big purse from the backseat. “Let’s see what Nate has to say.”

Nate had texted Scarlet to come over to talk about the fountain. Unfortunately, Heather had been taking pictures of herself with Scarlet’s phone when the text came in, so she saw the message and insisted on coming along.

Scarlet followed Heather inside the cabin and found Gabriel and Nate looking over the tree drawing in the living room.

“Oh good, you’re here,” Nate said to Scarlet. He looked at Heather. “Howdy. What, uh…what are you doing here?”

Heather smiled. “Helping you find the fountain, of course.”

“No way.” Gabriel shook his head. “No mortals.”

Heather raised offended eyebrows. “Mortals?”

Nate smiled politely. “We’ve got this covered, Heather. Thanks, though.”

Heather gave them an oh-please look. “You’ve got ‘this covered’. You mean like the last few times you had it ‘covered’? The times when my B-F-F died? Yeah, you’ll have to excuse me if I don’t exactly trust that you’ve ‘got this covered’.” She kept making quotation marks with her fingers, her shiny nails glinting.

“Heather,” Gabriel rubbed the side of his face. “I don’t think you getting involved is a good idea. There are other factors involved this time, other threats.”

“You mean the ‘Ash’ person?”

“Yes,” Gabriel said. “We don’t know where he came from or what he is. Until we know just what we’re dealing with, I think it’s safer if you stay out of this. You don’t want an Ash guy coming after you.”

Heather ran a hand across one of the leather sofas. “First of all, you need to come up with a better name for this bad guy. Ash person? Really? That sounds like a guy who cleans chimneys.”

Nate snorted.

Heather pointed at Nate. “See? Even the nerdy guy agrees with me.”

Nate narrowed his eyes. “I am not nerdy.”

Heather looked him up and down. “You have on a Battlestar Galactica T-shirt and you’re wearing socks with sandals.”

Everyone looked at Nate’s footwear.

Nate shuffled his feet and explained, “My feet are cold because our replacement window still hasn’t come in and it is drafty in here.”

Heather waved him off. “My point is that the Ash guys—can we just call them Ashmen?—don’t scare me. What does scare me is the thought of my best friend dying. So I’m sticking around to ensure the safety of my friend.”

Gabriel exhaled. “You don’t understand. You’re completely defenseless. You’re—”

“Mortal?”

“Yes. The Ash guy—”

“Ashman,” Heather corrected.

Gabriel jutted his jaw. “—could come after you and then we’d have to protect you.”

Heather lifted her chin. “I don’t need protection.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Gabriel narrowed his eyes. “Remember when that beetle was crawling on your backpack at school and you ran away screaming?” He paused. ”That was a bug. I don’t even want to imagine what kind of reaction you’d have if a man with a knife came after you.”

“I would be brave.” Heather stood up straight. “And I wouldn’t scream. Or cry.”

Scarlet bit back a smile.

Heather would absolutely scream. And cry.

“No,” Gabriel said.

“Listen.” Heather glared at him. “I love Scarlet just as much as you and I don’t want to sit on the sidelines doing nothing while you guys try to save her. Life is short.” She paused as she looked at Gabriel. “Well maybe not your life, but my life is short. And I want to do something meaningful with it. I want to have purpose. Something beyond Avalon fairs and Millhouse coffee and nail polish. Please. Let me help save my best friend’s life.”

“Nope.” Gabriel shrugged. “I’m not going to babysit you while we’re trying to undo the curse.”

Clearly annoyed, Heather whipped her head away from Gabriel and looked at Nate. “You’ll let me be a part of this, right? Because I love Scarlet and I’ll do anything to help.”

Nate hesitated. “Maybe.”

Heather smiled victoriously at Gabriel.

“Dude.” Gabriel gave Nate an are you kidding me? look.

Nate twitched his lips. “It wouldn’t be that bad. She could help keep an eye on Scarlet’s health condition and she can look stuff up online for us. And she knows what Battlestar Galactica is so—”

“Yes!” Heather started clapping.

Oh, geez. The clapping.

“No,” Gabriel said.

Nate shrugged. “Let her help.”

Gabriel looked at Nate. “And who’s going to stop the screaming when she breaks a nail. Or a limb?”

“I won’t get hurt. I’m tough,” Heather said.

Gabriel looked at her. “You are not tough.”

Heather frowned. “Do I look like some girlie, defenseless Barbie doll to you?”

Everyone examined Heather. She was wearing a fuzzy winter sweater that looked like it was made of feathers, a short wool skirt, and high-heeled, knee-length boots. Her giant purse, larger than her torso, was slung over her shoulder, and her blond hair fell in perfect curls around her head.

Looking down at herself, Heather puckered her lips. “Don’t answer that.”

Nate shrugged. “I don’t care who comes along on our fountain adventure. What I care about is the tree picture. And right now?” He drew everyone’s attention to the small drawing on the coffee table. “I’m stumped.”

Gabriel’s eyes fell to the old parchment paper. “You still don’t know what it means?”

Nate ran both hands through his hair. “It’s definitely from the sixteenth century, and it has the words Avalon and “eternal water” on it, so it’s safe to assume it has something to do with the fountain of youth. And Avalon. But the picture is meaningless without more information.

“What we need,” Nate continued, “are some early journals or letters from the first settlers in Avalon. We need something that might shed more light on what an apple tree has to do with eternal water, if anything at all.”

Everyone in the room went silent as they stared at the old parchment on the coffee table.

Everyone but Heather, who kept clearing her throat.

Gabriel shifted his eyes to Heather, trying to look bored. “Yes?”

“Have you guys talked to Mr. Brooks yet?” she asked a little too sweetly.

Slowly and reluctantly, Gabriel asked, “Who is Mr. Brooks?”

“He’s the only living descendant of the founding family of Avalon.”

Gabriel narrowed his eyes at Heather. “So?”

Heather shrugged. “I just so happen to know that he keeps his family’s private records in his cellar.” Heather started walking around the living room, touching things nonchalantly. “Things like journals…and maps….”

“Perfect!” Nate gave a little boy smile. “I’ll go talk to him.”

“It’s too bad Mr. Brooks is a paranoid recluse and doesn’t talk to strangers.” Heather sighed dramatically. “If only there were someone in town whose family brought him meals on Sundays…someone who always sings Christmas carols at his door and bakes him cookies for Easter every year….” Her hands traced along the wall until they met the blue tarp.

“Heather.” Gabriel slid his eyes to her, but she ignored him.

He casually walked over to her and gently caught her hand as it moved from the broken window to an end table. “Do you know Mr. Brooks?”

Heather turned a cunning smile on him. “I do.”

Gabriel released her hand, inhaled slowly, and pinched his lips together. “Will you please introduce us to him?”

He didn’t want Heather involved. But he also didn’t want Scarlet to die.

What to do, what to do.

Heather blinked pleasantly. “Why Gabriel, are you asking me to help you?”

He exhaled through his nose. “Maybe.”

“Does this mean I get to be part of the team?” She clapped her hands again.

“Yes,” Nate said.

“No,” Gabriel said at the same time.

“Duuuude,” Nate said to Gabriel between his teeth. “I really want to talk to this Mr. Brooks guy.”

“Fine.” Gabriel sighed. “Let her help. I don’t care. But if you die,” Gabriel pointed at Heather, “or get cursed or something, that’s your fault.”

Heather nodded merrily, still clapping. “Yay, I’m part of the team.”

“We’re not a team,” Gabriel said through gritted teeth.

Heather ignored him and looked at Nate. “I think we need a team name.”

“Ooh! Good idea.” Nate pointed a finger into the air. “How about Team Awesome?”

Heather wrinkled her nose. “Too vague. Team Super Secret Fountain Seekers?”

“Too specific.” Nate shook his head. “Team Ash Guy Hunters?”

“Ashman.” Heather shook her head. “Too hard to say.”

Nate scoffed. “And ‘Super Secret Fountain Seekers’ is easy to say?”

Gabriel huffed and started walking toward the door. “You guys can stay here and pick a name and a Team Captain or whatever, but I’m going to find Mr. Brooks.” He opened the door to leave, night falling on the forest around them.

Heather said, “Mr. Brooks doesn’t open his door when it’s dark outside.” She shrugged. “So we’re going to have to wait until tomorrow after school.”

Frustrated, Gabriel closed the cabin door on the setting sun. “Tomorrow then.”

“Perfect.” Nate nodded, shifting his eyes from Scarlet, to Gabriel, and then to Heather.

A moment passed.

“I call dibs on Team Captain,” Nate said.

Gabriel rolled his eyes.