Darynda Jones: Death, Doom, and Detention

I stood and weaved toward a sink, my legs weak, my footing unsure, as one girl eyed me like I’d grown another head and a couple of others asked if I was okay. I nodded and proceeded to splash cold water on my face, groaning when the bell rang. No way would I not be late to my next class now.

“Are you okay?” Brooklyn asked, rushing in.

“Yes, but the bell rang. We need to hurry.”

“Lor, what’s wrong?”

I patted my face dry with a paper towel. “Nothing. We’re going to be late is all.”

She didn’t believe me. I figured that out when she said, “I don’t believe you, and we are going to have a very long talk, Lorelei McAlister.”

Uh-oh. She’d used both names. I was in trouble.

“Why don’t you guys iron out your problems tonight?”

We turned to see my archnemesis walk in. She handed me a pink slip of paper with crude writing and a small map.

“You can come hang and talk all you want.”

Brooke ripped the paper out of my hand. “A party? You’re inviting us to a party?”

Tabitha checked her long blond hair in the mirror. “Just thought you might like to have some fun.

There’ll be boys.” With a sly grin, she retrieved the paper out of Brooke’s grasp and handed it back to me. “And you and I can chat as well. You know, girl to girl.” After offering me a playful wink, she turned on her toes and left.

Brooke gaped at me. “What was that all about? And since when do you even talk to the creature whose name shall not be spoken aloud? Especially after she just rammed you into a tree?”

I studied the paper, curious myself, but only a little. “If you noticed,” I said, stuffing it into my pocket, “I didn’t talk. She did.” I left her with that and strolled to my gym locker to get dressed. No need to rush. I was going to be tardy anyway.

My grandparents might have to be called. They might have to give up part of their day to talk to

Principal Davis. They might have to worry over what has gotten into me, be bothered by my lack of respect for school rules. What a shame that would be.

As it turned out, I did not have to go to the office for a tardy slip, because the teacher was late as well.

She’d had to help break up another fight in the halls, this one between two girls who had the practiced art of hair pulling down to a science. The teacher’s absence gave me time to recuperate from my last carpet-

bombing of visions. While hurrying to fifth hour, the crush of the crowd trying to see the fight and the emotions running high catapulted vision after vision toward me until I could hardly see where I was going. Most were inconsequential, stuff that had already happened, but one vision—and there was always one—had a Riley High student contemplating suicide. It was a kid I didn’t know well, but the rest of my day would be lost inside the hopeless musings of depression like a deep pit I couldn’t claw my way out of.

Again.

Brooke and I walked to the Java Loft after school. It was our favorite hangout. Mostly because it served lattes and cappuccinos, but also because it was the only place in our small town that did.

Cameron was right behind us, and when I asked him about Jared, he pointed to the top of an art gallery on Main, where Jared was standing guard.

My life was so weird.

“I think I’ll just head home,” I said, stuffing my icy hands into my jacket pockets. “I’m kind of tired today.”

“On a Friday? Lor, what is going on?” Brooke asked as I watched the silhouette of Jared against the descending sun.

“What do you mean?”

She let a loud sigh slide through her lips. “You’ve been acting really strange lately. I know it’s a lot, everything you’ve been through with your parents and finding out about what happened to you as a kid, but it just seems like there’s more to it than that.”

I couldn’t suppress a soft laugh, though there was nothing humorous about it. “More than finding out that I led my parents to their deaths?”

She put her hands in her jacket pockets too and lowered her head in silence.

“More than finding out I was possessed by Lucifer’s second-in-command and he’s still inside me?”

She lifted a shoulder. “It sounds so bad when you put it that way.”

“And more than finding out my grandparents sabotaged the only real relationship I’ve ever had with a guy who could double as a supermodel slash international spy? More than that?”

“Well,” she said, looking away, “yeah. More than that.”

“You don’t think that’s enough?”

She stepped closer. “I most definitely think that’s enough, but there’s still more. I know you. I can gauge what’s going on in that head of yours.” She tapped my forehead with her index finger. “I just think we should talk is all.”

I shook her off. “I can’t tonight. My grandparents want to have dinner,” I said, lying.

“Oh.” She seemed surprised. “Okay, that’s good. You guys need to talk. I’ll just see you tomorrow, then? It’s Saturday. We can watch movies all day and eat popcorn until we’re sick.”

“Sure.”

“Okay,” she said with a relieved smile just before she ducked into the Java Loft for a latte.

I started for home, then stopped and looked back at Cameron. “You know, you can stay here with

Brooke.”

His mouth formed a thin line. “You know I can’t.”

“Dude, you’ve been gone for two days. What’s another half hour going to matter?”

When all I got in response was a glare, I dropped it and headed home. Cameron followed me as I knew he would. I decided to sneak around back to avoid a confrontation with my grandparents. Our house, or houselike dwelling, was connected to their store, The Wild ‘n Wonderful. It was technically a health food store, but we sold a little of everything. All the everyday essentials. Like soap. And Cheetos.

“I’m going back to school for my truck,” he said. “Stay inside. I’ll be back in five.”

“I think I’ll be okay in my own house,” I said, growing a little annoyed with the constant presence of one of my bodyguards.

He looked over his shoulder. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, shortstop. I’ll still be back in five.”

I shook my head and opened the screen door as quietly as I could. It was so weird to be at odds with my grandparents. We were always close, almost inseparable. But they had kept so much from me growing up, so much I could have used to understand the visions and other oddities in my life. They’d wanted to wait, to tell me everything when I turned eighteen—the Order, my lineage, the prophecies—but when I was hit by that truck and Jared was sent to take me, everything changed.

Everything.

Only then did I find out that my grandparents were part of the Order of Sanctity, a group of people who believed in the teachings of a powerful prophet named Arabeth, the first prophet in human history to be burned as a witch centuries before it became common practice. Only then did I find out my lineage, that I was apparently descended from her. And only then did I find out about the prophecies surrounding my birth and my destiny. Not to mention the fact that I’d been possessed as a child. That was a kicker.

And now the situation with Jared. Whatever they’d said to him brought a screeching halt to our involvement, and I resented them for it, plain and simple. It all added up to one massive wedge in our relationship. And now I avoided them whenever I could. It was just easier that way.

I crept inside and heard muffled voices coming from the living room off the kitchen. The pocket door was pulled almost completely shut, but I could just make out a heated exchange resonating from within.