A Beautiful Dark Read online

  For some unknown reason, warmth rushed up my spine, flooding my cheeks. Why did so innocent a question seem so intimate? “I must have forgotten to make one,” I said, realizing as the words left my mouth that they were true.

  “It’s not too late,” he said. “You’ve still got half an hour to change your life.”

  I looked at him, confused. What a strange thing to say to someone you’d just met. “Maybe I don’t want to change my life.”

  “You wouldn’t change anything at all?”

  My mind flashed to my parents, of course, but wishing for a way to feel closer to them was impossible. “No,” I said. “Not really.”

  “Well, I hope that works out for you.”

  I turned back toward the door, feeling like I’d missed the point of the conversation somehow.

  “I’ll see you around, Skye,” he said as I walked back inside. “Happy birthday.”

  Chapter 2

  In the privacy of the fluorescent-lit bathroom, I stared at my reflection. My eyes were flashing silver in the light—true silver, not the silvery gray they appeared to be on most days. I blinked, but nothing changed. They only flashed brighter, more vibrantly. They reminded me of a movie we watched in chemistry earlier in the year. When the scientist broke an old thermometer into a petri dish, the mercury slipped from the cracks in the glass, quick and light, not nearly as thick and goopy as I’d expected it would be.

  I couldn’t quiet my heartbeat. What had caused my eyes to look this way? Had the effect started before I went outside? Or did it have something to do with the unexpected attraction I’d felt to the guy leaning against the wall? I realized now that I didn’t even know his name.

  When I heard the door to the bathroom open followed by the sound of laughter, I fled into the nearest stall and pressed my back against the cool metal door. I fought to calm my erratic heart and wild thoughts, to focus on the problem at hand. I couldn’t face my friends until my eyes were normal gray again. What had I done to make it stop the last time this happened?

  I’d been skiing in a race about two weeks before. It had been neck and neck for a while—this girl from Holy Cross Academy and I. I’d leaned into the wind, feeling for the turns, blocking out the noise, the sound, everything but the feel of the snow beneath me. At the bottom, when she congratulated me on my win, I took off my goggles. “Whoa,” she’d said. “Are you wearing contacts?” And moments later, in a bathroom so much like this one, I saw it for the first time. My eyes like liquid silver coins staring back at me in shock.

  I detached myself from the stall door and waited until the two girls who had interrupted me left, the door squeaking open and then shut. The bathroom was quiet. I emerged, lifting my face once again to stare into the mirror, bracing myself for what I was about to see.

  But my eyes were back to the same old nickel gray. Something my dad used to say needled its way into my thoughts. Little silver bells. When they ring, we’ll know. It came out of nowhere. I hadn’t thought about it since he’d died.

  Pushing the memory aside, I took a deep breath and stood straighter, appraising the rest of me. My skin looked even paler than usual. My jeans and periwinkle sweater, which before had felt just right for a cozy night with friends, now felt frumpy. I took my sweater off. The tight T-shirt underneath was marginally better. My black waves were plastered to my neck from the dancing, and I scooped them up into a ponytail.

  I glanced down at my watch. It was almost midnight. I wondered if everyone would give me a hard time for going home this early. Cassie would be disappointed. She’d been gloating all week that she’d convinced Aunt Jo to forfeit my curfew just this one night. I hated to waste it, but I’d suddenly lost all enthusiasm for partying. Why did this keep happening? Was I sick?

  The bathroom door squeaked on its hinges again as I pushed my way back into the hall, reminding myself to tell Ian that he should probably get that fixed.

  The light in the hall was dim, and it took my eyes a little while to adjust to the difference.

  But then I saw them.

  Two guys were standing with their backs to me. I could barely make out that one was blond, while the other’s close-cropped hair blended into the dark background. They spoke in hushed tones. Every now and then their voices rose and then fell again, as if the conversation was heated but they were afraid of being overheard. I couldn’t see their faces from where I stood, but I definitely didn’t recognize them.

  I could hear only a snippet of the conversation: “Not . . . yet!” The blond guy stood straight, his arms stiff by his sides and his hands balled into fists. “You are not supposed to interfere.”

  “Do you think I care?” the dark-haired guy whispered loudly. “Your rules mean nothing to me, Devin.”

  In a blur, he pushed the blond guy, sending him toppling back into a stack of wooden chairs that went crashing to the ground. At least, he must have pushed him—he moved too fast for me to see exactly what had happened. Everyone turned around to look. Someone cut the music. Devin looked stunned as he lay tangled on the floor amid a nest of chairs.

  “I can see that, Asher.”

  Devin shoved himself to his feet. Asher came back at him, and the two locked together, head to head. Some people in the crowd shouted. I tried to suppress the panic rising in my throat.

  “You would have done the same thing.” Asher’s voice was a growl, deep and menacing.

  “You know I wouldn’t have.”

  As the crowd gathered in closer, I found myself right at the front, inside the circle. People jostled against me, striving to get a better view. I was trapped.

  “Well, whose fault is that?”

  Devin twisted around in Asher’s grip, and Asher went flying backward—toward me. I couldn’t move; the crowd was packed in too tight. Closing my eyes, I held my arms out to catch him as he hurtled into me, sending us both to the hardwood floor. Pain jolted through me as the impact knocked the wind out of my lungs, and I gasped.

  “Skye!” I heard Cassie’s voice rise above the ringing in my ears.

  I couldn’t call out to her; I could barely move. Asher weighed a ton, and I was pinned beneath him. He turned around to right himself, pressing his arms into the floor on either side of my head for balance. His face was right above mine. His eyes widened.

  It was the guy I’d met on the street just a few minutes ago. The one who’d asked me what I’d wished for on my birthday. His eyes, even in all this chaos, were deep and dizzying. Looking into them was like trying to follow a penny as it falls down a well.

  I caught my breath, and feeling slowly returned to my limbs.

  “Get off of me!” I shoved as hard as I could, catching Asher off guard. He tumbled to the side, and I scrambled up. “Jerk.”

  I noticed the other guy, Devin, staring at me, too.

  Then a loud popping noise startled me, and something began hissing loudly. I fought to push my way through the crowd toward where Cassie’s voice had last emerged. Suddenly, the ground rumbled; I lost my balance and fell to my knees. Shouts grew louder, panicked screams echoed around me, and someone’s hands gripped my arms from behind.

  “Skye!”

  I turned around to face Cassie and clutched her arm in relief. “What’s going on?”

  Cassie shook her head, her eyes huge. “I don’t have an effing clue.”

  “Earthquake!” someone yelled.

  Chaos erupted as though a switch had been thrown. I heard glass shattering, mugs and plates falling off shelves.

  Cassie tightened her grip on my arm. “Let’s get out of here!” She pulled me toward the door. “Hurry!”

  The ground was quaking beneath us. As I turned toward the door, I noticed Dan and Ian running up alongside us. Dan took hold of Cassie’s free arm. As Ian grabbed my other arm, he gave me a strange look.

  Then he and Dan were propelling us through the door.

  “Get to your cars!” Dan yelled. “Ian’s on duty. I’ll stay with him while he calls the police.”

/>   The two of them raced back toward the building.

  Outside, people were scurrying down the street in both directions. I could feel the tremors diminishing as Cassie and I sprinted through the freezing air to where our cars were parked on the other end of the street. We stopped at her old hunter green Volvo wagon. I couldn’t draw in air. It was like my lungs had locked up.

  “Well, for better or for worse, everyone will be talking about your birthday on Monday,” Cassie muttered as she fumbled for her keys.

  I tried to stay upright, but my knees were shaking too hard. They buckled under me, and I slid to the ground. I gasped for breath again and again.

  “Skye?” Cassie crouched next to me, snow seeping into her tights. “Are you okay?”

  She pushed back my hair as I leaned my head against the passenger door and closed my eyes, battling to keep breathing.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I said, my chest tightening. The street was spinning, even though the rumbling had stopped. “I feel weird. I probably had too much to drink.”

  “You can’t drive home like this. You’re shaking.” She took my mittened hands in hers and squeezed.

  “Just . . .” I didn’t know how to explain what was wrong with me. I didn’t understand what was going on. It wasn’t panic. It wasn’t even fear. It was like total and complete exhaustion. Like I’d pushed myself to the limit and was crashing.

  “Come on, get in.” She helped me up and into the passenger seat. Leaning over, she buckled me in. “I’ll drive you home. We’ll get your car in the morning.”

  As she climbed in and revved the engine, her radio played the single that had been popular all winter. Cassie began to sing along softly, automatically. She turned the wheel and glided out from the curb, down the street.

  I took a deep breath, trying to steady my hands. As the music and Cassie’s voice washed over me, I happened to glance in the side-view mirror. On the street, a lone figure stood in the shadows, getting smaller and smaller as the car pulled away.

  Chapter 3

  The next morning was gray and heavy with the promise of more snow. When I opened my eyes, the weak light filtered into my room through the bay window. As it washed over my pale blue walls, I felt almost like I was outside, just floating in the sky. I buried myself deeper under my cream-colored jersey comforter, letting the soft cotton surround me. I pulled it tight to me like a cocoon, blocking out the world. I had a slamming headache.

  I didn’t feel any older on the day after my birthday than I had on the day before it.

  I wanted to stay under the covers all morning, but my cell phone rang, forcing me to get out of bed and walk all the way across my room to where it was charging on my dresser.

  “Hey, Ian,” I said after I saw who was calling. Shivering in my boxers and T-shirt, I ran to get into bed with the phone. I closed the window on my way back. I didn’t remember leaving it open, and now the room was freezing. I glanced outside before pulling the curtain closed. The sky looked dark, like the storm headed our way was about to blow down some serious power lines.

  “Hey,” he said. “How are you feeling this morning?”

  I laughed. “I’m fine. I got up, answered the phone, and now I’m back in bed.”

  “Don’t tempt a guy, Skye; I’m only human. Are you wearing pajamas?”

  “Ian!”

  “Kidding! Kidding.” Only I had a feeling he wasn’t. He made jokes like that a lot, but he was a good friend and I’d never thought of him as more. “I really did call to see how you’re doing. It was kind of scary there toward the end.”

  Absently, I pulled the covers over my head, watching for cracks where the light shone through. “Yeah, you guys really put the ‘surprise’ in surprise party.” I yawned. “I’ve never heard of an earthquake hitting this area before.”

  “Is that what you heard?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It wasn’t an earthquake. The boiler in the basement exploded.”

  I chewed on the inside of my cheek. “Wasn’t that thing brand-new?” I remembered last year when Ian was going on and on about how the installation was messing up his whole shift schedule. Ian’s job at the Bean included all kinds of odd fix-it jobs, and he’d been there before school some mornings to help oversee the installation.

  “Yup. Apparently it just overheated. It got so hot it even melted in places—that’s what caused the explosion.”

  “Whoa,” I said, bringing the blanket down from over my head. The cool air hit my face. “Weird.”

  “I know.”

  “Was anyone hurt?”

  “Not that I’ve heard. We were really lucky.”

  “Skye?” Aunt Jo knocked on my open bedroom door. “Babe, if I’m gonna drive you into town to get your car, we’d better do it now. It looks like snow; I don’t want it to get stuck.”

  I nodded at her. “Ian?” I said into the phone.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I heard her. Stop by the Bean if you get a sec when you’re in town. I’m here cleaning up the mess.”

  “That sucks.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “They couldn’t get anyone else to help?”

  “Rub it in, please?”

  I laughed. “See you in a bit.” I heard the sound of shattered glass being kicked, then Ian sighed into the phone.

  “I’ll be here.”

  I hung up, but the phone immediately started ringing again. Cassie.

  “We’re going to get a blizzard!” she sang. “How are you feeling?”

  “Head. Car. Snow. Town,” I moaned.

  “Got it. Call me when you get back and are feeling better.”

  The line clicked dead.

  We drove in silence for most of the way there. I just didn’t feel much like talking. When I’d gotten home the night before, Aunt Jo had been waiting up for me, so Cassie and I had to tell her all about the un-surprise party and what I’d thought was an earthquake. Cassie had explained that I’d been so shaken up that she’d had to drive me home. I didn’t want Aunt Jo to worry, but how could I explain what had really happened to me when even I wasn’t sure?

  Aunt Jo’s eyes kept shifting nervously from the road to look at me. I had filled her in on what Ian had just told me about the boiler exploding. It was scary to think that the night before could have been a way bigger mess than just a bunch of shattered glass.

  I let my head fall against the headrest and watched the trees flash by.

  Aunt Jo stopped in front of my black Subaru. I hopped out of the passenger side of her car, my boots crunching loudly in the snow. She got out, too, and came around to the curb. She slapped her left hand uneasily against the side of the SUV, and some grayish blond wisps swung loose from her ponytail. Her cheeks were just shy of burned, the result of last week’s mountaineering trek with Into the Woods Outdoor Company, the outdoor sporting goods and adventure company she owned and managed.

  She’d always been happy running the show from behind the scenes, until two weeks ago when her head trip leader, Jenn Spratt, had taken a terrible fall. Her carabiner hadn’t been secured during an ice-climbing trip. Jenn had broken her left leg and dislocated a shoulder. Aunt Jo had her office staff working on finding a temporary replacement, but until then, she was the only one qualified enough to take groups out into the backcountry. Lucky for me, growing up with Aunt Jo had taught me to be pretty self-sufficient. The past couple of weeks, she’d been away for long stretches of time, coming home sunburned, windburned, scratched, and bruised. But all of it just made her look pretty—outdoorsy and alive and younger than she was. It was weird to think that my mother’s best friend was the same age my mom would have been if she were still alive. I couldn’t imagine my mom doing the active and strenuous things Aunt Jo did. I imagined her as fragile, ethereal. Perfect.

  “Listen, before I head home, I’m going to pop into the Bean to see Ian,” I told her.

  “Don’t stay out too long.” She frowned upward at the heavy clouds
. “We’re in for some major weather.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I said. “Seriously. See?” I knocked on one of the tires. “Snow tires. It’s all good.”

  She looked at me a moment longer. “Okay,” she said, entirely unconvinced. You’d think for someone who spent 99.9 percent of her time trekking through the mountains avoiding bears and rattlesnakes, she’d put more faith in things like snow tires. “Be careful.” She mussed her hand through my dark, wavy hair.

  “It’s just a little snow,” I insisted. “We get it, oh, twice a week?”

  She gave me a warning look. “I’m serious, Skye.”

  “I’ll be fine. What’s with the gloom and doom?”

  “Oh, this whole explosion thing just has me shaken up, that’s all. Thank god I was home and not out on a trip. I hate my new schedule; I wish I didn’t have to be away from you for so long. What if you’d been hurt and I wasn’t here?”

  I didn’t want to admit that, secretly, I was kind of thinking the same thing. She had enough to worry over with all the extra work she’d taken on after Jenn’s fall. I gave her a reassuring smile. “But I wasn’t hurt and you were here.”

  “Promise me you’ll be home soon, and I’ll make you dinner tonight or something.”

  “A real home-cooked meal—from scratch?” I widened my eyes in mock surprise and batted my eyelashes. Aunt Jo had become the queen of stocking our freezer with frozen dinners. The “healthy” kind that had ingredients like wild brown rice, organic kale, and quinoa—this totally bizarre little grain that Aunt Jo had instructed me was pronounced “keen-wha.” The meals couldn’t possibly be as healthy as the manufacturers claimed. Anything that came in a little plastic dish you had to heat in the microwave couldn’t be that good for you. When Aunt Jo was home, though, she cooked real meals good enough to dream about the whole time she was away. “I want lasagna!”

  “Don’t push your luck,” she said dryly. “But if you hurry home, I’ll bake you some cookies.”

  “I’m glad to see you’re not above bribery.”

  “You can’t be above anything when raising a teenager.”