Siren's Song (12 page)

“Set him down, Luke,” I say, my words lost in the blend of voices. Luke's eyes lock with mine and I witness the crazed look melting away. He lets the other guys pull Matt down.

“Leave him alone!” Matt yells at his pissed-off team. “Just give him some room.”

Matt's gaze finds me. Regret, fury, concern, and finally resignation spin across his face. He shakes his head and guilt throbs in my stomach, like somehow I'm responsible for this mess. Luke dashes toward the doors, people parting to let him through, as teachers run into the room. Matt laughs out loud. “Just a friendly stunt,” he assures the teachers and the other players. His eyes are still locked on me. “No harm done.”

* * *

“So, he roared? Like a crazed lion?” Carly asks again as we dodge volleyballs in the gymnasium.

“Yes,” I hiss and check to make sure Luke hasn't shown up. He's going to get into trouble with all this ditching. I serve the ball back across the net. “I can't believe you didn't hear it. And you didn't see Matt tackle Luke?”

Carly punches the incoming ball away from her with the heel of her hand. “Nada. The first thing I saw was Luke twirling two-hundred-pound Matt like a baton over his head.”

“And no one else saw the stuff before, either,” I say more to myself than to Carly as she serves the ball back over and shakes her hand at the pain.

“Nope. I swear, Jule, your singing makes everyone zone out. It's like a drug or something.”

“But I've always had this voice, like my mom.”

Carly shakes her head and dodges the ball meant for me. “Sorry,” I call over to Lindsey on the other side of the net. I run after the ball and serve it back.

“Yeah, but you seem more potent now,” Carly says. “Ever since mysterious Luke showed up when you were humming on your roof. It about put me to sleep. I thought I was just having a weird day, but then in the car… And Madison told me–”

“Watch out!” I yell, and Carly swats the ball away from her head in a total self-preservation move.

“Madison told me she doesn't even remember your audition for
Phantom
. Like, she was so under your spell she was like…asleep, or in a trance. She just said it was beautiful.”

When I sang with my mom at the hospital, the residents did seem stunned, but I figured that was partly their medication. “I don't know.” I hit the ball back one more time, and Carly's dad blows the whistle for us to stop.

“By the time you do the opera for the school, your voice will be so powerful it will just knock the whole auditorium out,” Carly says with a nod.

“Taylin and Matt didn't seem affected.”

“Like you said, they're just plain weird.”

“You're pretty weird, too,” I elbow her as we enter the locker room, “and my voice seems to affect you.”

“Hardy har har!”

* * *

“Not too much. I don't want to look like I'm
trying
to look good,” I tell Carly as she attacks my long hair with a thick-barrel curling iron. “It should look like I only spent five minutes getting ready, but look naturally sensational.” I sit cross-legged on my bed. It's Saturday afternoon, a couple hours before the bonfire. After being up half the night trying to figure out how to get out of drama so I don't hypnotize the cast and the entire audience, I'm trying to think about mundane teenager things like what I'm going to wear. But Carly's not making it easy.

“Wow, what a start to your senior year, huh? First Luke shows up, then Taylin, the loner goth-girl, latches onto him and is suddenly friends with Matt. I mean, I know they knew each other, but cousins, with the same birthdays? Then Matt fighting with Luke.” She shakes her flat-ironed hair so it glides like a curtain of auburn silk at her shoulders. “Then your mega-voice kicks into freaky overdrive, causing everyone around you to fall into trances, except for Luke who looks like he wants to—”

“I know,” I cut her off. I don't want to hear another warning about Luke. The more I hear or read in anonymous notes, the closer I get to actually being…well, a little bit scared of him. The part of me that longs for him to feather another set of kisses down my neck rolls her eyes, but that paranoid, self-preservation downer part of me wants to lock all the doors and never sing again. Although Luke apparently has no problem getting around locks. I sigh.

“I know, Carly, things are beyond weird. And with my mom still gone and Dad away from home all the time, it's enough to make me freak out.”

“Mom says you are always welcome to stay with us,” Carly adds, but then holds up a hand when I open my mouth. “I know. Eric's freaking you out, too.” She shakes her head. “It's weird how he always shows up at home when you stop by.”

A shiver runs across my scalp at her words.

“As far as singing in the musical goes, you should fake some totally serious laryngitis on Monday.”

I exhale, my shoulders drooping. “Ms. Bishop would know that I'm faking. And Dad would be suspicious. I've been singing with my mom. It seems to be helping her.”

Carly yanks the curling-iron cord out of the plug and runs her fingers through my hair, crunching the soft curls into a natural cascade down to the middle of my back and around my shoulders. “There!” She smiles with satisfaction before grabbing the hair spray. “Like you just rolled out of bed.” She laughs.

I suck in fresh air a second before she releases a cloud of extra hold around my head. I flap my hand in front of my face.

Three outfit changes later, I leave my room wearing the perfect casual denim skirt and a mildly clingy turquoise top that sits low but still high enough to cover the birthmark on my chest. My brown sandals have turquoise beads which add some flair without looking paired with the outfit. My plaid button-down shirt is slung over my arm, ready to act as a jacket when the sun goes down.

Carly looks similar, but decides to go with the more “I really don't care” look with a zippered sweatshirt if she gets cold. We slide into her car. Even though Dad says I can use Mom's car while she's away, it doesn't feel right. I like it sitting in the driveway as if she's inside the house, humming or trilling her scales.

“You forgot to leave the porch light on,” Carly says and slows for me to jump out.

“I know,” I say and smile wryly. She knows the whole story and rolls her eyes.

“Maybe there will be a four-course meal waiting for you and Mica when you get home.”

I nod, but part of me really hopes Luke will be at the fire. I haven't seen him since yesterday at bizarro-lunch. I sat outside on my dark porch last night, hoping the lights would flicker on, but nothing happened, although I had the feeling I was being watched. But not knowing who was watching sent me inside. I contemplated humming a bit, but I didn't dare after the twirling Matt incident. I didn't even listen to my iPod in case I started to sing along.

* * *

Smoke jerks upward on a breeze and flames snap along the dry wood piled in a pyre-type fashion. Little groups stand around laughing or whispering. Paranoia tempts me to think their whispers are all about me. Between my mom in Crazytown and the fiasco in the cafeteria, there's no doubt I'm the topic of at least a few gossip circles.

The bonfire isn't sponsored by the school, but Winston Jefferson's parents have enlisted the help of several local volunteer firefighters to supervise, since it's on their wooded property. The Jeffersons own a couple of wild acres that run the length of the eighteenth hole at the new country club.

Between the trees and the dark clouds beginning to roll in, night arrives early. Flasks and cans emerge from jackets and bags as shadows grow.

“Here.” Winston hands Carly and me marshmallows. “There are sticks everywhere.” He winks and points to a table set up on the opposite side. “Makings for s'mores over there if you're interested.”

“Thanks.” Carly pops the raw marshmallow in her mouth and puts her hand out for another.

Winston fills her palm with four marshmallows and glances at me. “If you're more interested in liquid dessert, there's a van over there with some twenty-one-year-old alumni selling beer. Although be warned, they're charging double.” He shakes his head as if the practice of upping the price far outweighs the sin of selling beer to minors.

“Um…thanks,” I say as my gaze hits on the back of Matt's head where he stands with some of the football team and a few ridiculously peppy cheerleaders near the haphazard parking lot.

“Matt's here,” Carly says, sounding both happy and sullen at the same time. I don't know how she pulls that off. “Maybe if his flock moves off we can ask him if he knows anything about your voice.”

The sun totally disappears as the wind bends the branches overhead, the leaves flipping and shuddering against one another. Distant thunder echoes. “Good thing this isn't a pool party,” Carly quips and takes a step toward Matt, her hand around my wrist.

Matt turns and we pause, but he's not looking at us. His line of sight seems focused on the weedy lot of blocked-in cars and shadows. Taylin. She walks…well,
walks
is not quite the right word. She staggers, stumbles, and drapes herself over the cars and trucks. A liquor bottle slips from her fingers and she curses loud enough for most heads to turn.

“God,” Carly whispers, “she's trashed.”

Matt whips out his cell and heads Taylin's way, passing Carly and me. His eyes stray briefly to us, but he zeros back in on Taylin as he talks on his phone. “I might need help with Tay,” he says into the phone. “She looks bad.” He stuffs the phone back into his jeans pocket and jogs toward Taylin, who has fallen down in the grass, frantically rooting around the tires for her lost bottle.

Matt helps her up. “Leave me alone, Mathias,” Taylin slurs. He speaks softly, patiently, but I can't hear what he says. “I don't care. This is all bullshit, just like every time.” I can't hear his response, but it doesn't look gentle. “I can't. This daddy dear won't let me drink myself into a stupor at home.” She yanks away and stomps in a random path toward the fire. When she finally reaches it she spreads her arms out, like she wants to jump off a cliff…or into the fire.

“She so needs therapy,” Carly says as we jog toward Taylin, arriving just a second after Matt.

“Step back,” he commands.

“What? If I die now, you two will die soon and then we can all start over, without…” Taylin glances sideways and sees me. “Without her!” She jabs her finger in my direction. “Bloody, fucking Siren!”

“Wow,” Carly whispers next to me.

Yeah, wow. Everyone's looking at me now. Talk about drama. Maybe I should start singing and make my escape. I open my mouth, but Matt shakes his head at me. “He's almost here. Don't. It'll make things…worse.”

I shut my mouth, wondering what could be “worse.” Carly and I stare as the hot fire snaps and dances in the wind. Matt grabs Taylin around the waist and carries her toward the woods away from everyone else. I follow.

Carly grabs my arm. “You're following them?”

“I want to hear what Taylin knows about all this. She seems in the mood to talk.”

“Good point,” Carly says with a tilt of her head, eyebrows raised. We stride after them to the edge of the woods, where Matt is trying to reason with her.

“Ephesians 5:33, Mathias!” Taylin yells what sounds like a Bible reference. “You and Lucas need respect to survive.” She throws her hands wide. “Respect leading a battalion against Napoleon. Respect saving Catholics from a sexually frustrated, bitchy queen.” She flaps her fingers toward the fire. “Respect being quarterback, playing hockey, whatever.” She jams her thumb into her chest. “But I'm a woman!” Tears well out of her eyeliner-smeared eyes. Matt glances back at Carly and me.

“Hush, Tay. It's going to be okay.”

“Like hell it's okay! I
need love
to survive! Even God orders it. That's why I'm always the one to die first. I'm cursed more than the rest of you.”

“
Tais toi
, Tay!” Luke's order in French makes Carly and me jump together. I spin to see Luke striding toward us. The flames, crackling in the background, seem to surround him, frame him. I stifle a shiver at the vision of Luke walking right out of the flames of hell.

Taylin ignores his order. “If you kill her, we lose you forever, Lucas! I'll kill her myself before I let that happen.”

Luke stalks past us. Carly's mouth hangs open.
Kill?
She definitely said kill. I know she's talking about me. Everything in me is frozen. My stomach can't twist, my lungs lie open waiting for air that doesn't come. Only my heart continues pounding for a long moment, until I suck in a breath. I feel Carly lean into me, either needing support or giving it. I lean back in the same way.

Luke grabs Taylin's shoulders and gives her a small shake. Matt looks like he wants to break in between them but holds back. His gaze flits across me and lands on Carly.

Luke switches from French, which he knows I understand, to something more ancient-sounding. Maybe Latin. He grinds out a string of words while Taylin twists against his grasp and shakes her head. More tears gush out of her blackened eyes.

A gurgling sound comes up with a burp from Taylin. “Ugh…” she moans as she heaves. Luke steps back and lets her coat the leaves with upchucked tequila. No one moves to help her. Taylin's hands are on wobbly knees and she bends down almost into her own puke.

“Wait!” I yell and rush forward to guide her knees to a cleaner spot. In her weakened state she lets me. I hold her chin-length hair back from her face. I glance over my shoulder at the three non-moving people. “Carly, what should I do?”

Matt produces a bottle of water from his jacket. Carly blinks and kicks into pre-med gear like I hoped she would. “Don't make her drink yet; it will just come back up.” Taylin groans and rounds her back upwards like the cat-stretch in yoga.