Unchanged Page 4

  We took our usual booth in the corner by the window. I occupied the innermost seat and leaned against the glass, letting the cold seep inside me. No one had commented on the lavender sweeps beneath my eyes. They probably figured I was putting in extra hours studying or something. As if I'd ever lost any sleep over schoolwork.

  Austin sat beside me, close but not touching. We barely looked at each other. It was almost as if his invitation to the dance hadn't happened. I guessed he was still coming over to my house tonight before the dance, since I hadn't heard anything different. I tried to think of something to say to him.

  "Thanks for waiting," I offered lamely.

  "Yeah," he returned, his eyes darting to me and away.

  I slumped in my seat. He didn't seem interested in me at all. Which was okay, since I didn't think of him romantically. Still, I couldn't think why he had asked me to the dance in the first place.

  As we perused our greasy plastic menus, Chris and Joy started talking about their college applications, a subject which held no importance for me. Or Brandt, for that matter. Neither of us did well enough in school to earn scholarships, like Austin with his athletics, and there was no way my mom could pay for both of us. But I didn't care. I just didn't know what I wanted to do instead.

  "What'll ya have?" the red-haired server asked as she approached our table. She stared at her pad, pen at the ready. The Blue Shrimp wasn't known for its prompt or friendly service, which was probably why nobody we knew ever came here.

  "The sundae, please," Chris ordered. "No nuts."

  "There's only one kind of nuts Chris likes," Brandt announced slyly.

  "Almonds?"

  Brandt and Austin laughed, Chris looking back and forth between them in confusion. Joy just rolled her eyes and ordered coffee.

  "Hot tea," I muttered. I had a couple of dollars to cover that, at least.

  "Grilled cheese," Austin said. My brother decided to have the same, barely getting in his order before the server slunk away.

  My gaze strayed outside and I thought longingly of my bed. I stirred my tea when it arrived, letting the mug warm my bloodless hands. I inhaled the steam and pretended I was alone. In a stylish café in some distant city. Waiting. Waiting for . . .

  A figure in black across the street caught my eye. I squinted, focusing my gaze, until I recognized, with some surprise, Ahaziel. He just stood there in front of an antiques store, staring in the windows of the Blue Shrimp, watching me. Oh god. Was he stalking me? No, he was probably looking at something else. He was just out for a stroll through town . . . But why wasn't he moving? I could feel the dark weight of his eyes upon me even from across the street, even through glass. Was he angry I hadn't gone to meet him yesterday as I'd said I would?

  The food arrived, distracting me for only a moment. Brandt handed me half of his grilled cheese. I held it poised awkwardly in front of my mouth, not able to bring myself to take a bite, knowing Ahaziel was watching me. I couldn't put it down, either, because then I would have to find something else to do with my hands. I tried concentrating on the conversation, but I couldn't help obsessing over the way I looked in profile to Ahaziel. Like Lee Miller, Miss Bell had once told me. I'd looked at the portrait she'd indicated in one of her art books, studying the woman's long nose, pretty mouth, serene eyes, and dainty chin. But my face wasn't like hers because mine was wary, resentful, and paranoid, my expressions mirroring my feelings no matter how hard I tried to hide them. My face had two sides, one plain and honey-pale, the other stained with that gigantic splash of pale berry-red.

  I let my gaze slide cautiously back in Ahaziel's direction. He hadn't moved. Not one inch.

  Doesn't anyone else see him? I wondered. Does he even exist?

  I willed myself to act natural even if it was the last thing I felt. I turned back to the group and summoned a weak smile. "Any plans after the dance?"

  "That's when we're going to Austin's to celebrate your birthday," Joy said. "Haven't you been listening?"

  "Um, not really."

  "Typical."

  I glared at her as Brandt and Austin began discussing pranks they might perform at the dance, but Joy didn't notice. I bit into my grilled cheese half and chewed determinedly.

  I couldn't help but glance out the window again. Ahaziel had gone.

  ~

  I dreaded the Winter Ball, which was strange since I'd been dreaming forever of a cute boy asking me to a school dance. Now one had but all I felt was disappointment and foreboding curdling in my stomach.

  Something is going to happen tonight, I thought morosely. Something . . . awful.

  As Joy and Chris chattered about makeup in front of my dresser mirror, I changed into a dusk blue velvet dress I'd had in my closet for months. I'd found it in a thrift store some weeks ago and had to have it, despite my paltry funds. It was short and tight, the velvet stretching perfectly over the curves of my body. It had spaghetti straps, so I wore a long black sweater over it to ward off the chill. I combed my fingers through my hair, checking the mirror to make sure it covered my birthmark acceptably.

  Chris wore a fashionable, newly purchased dress in palest yellow. Despite the cold weather her long dark hair was glossy and smooth, her skin dewy. When we walked out into the living room, my brother's eyes wouldn't leave her. I looked sideways at Austin.

  "You look—nice," he said. He blushed and lowered his eyes.

  "Thanks."

  "Your dress looks like a t-shirt," Brandt said to Joy.

  "Thanks a lot."

  "I think you look great," I offered. Joy didn't seem to have heard me.

  We made our way to the dance in Austin's BMW. I sat up front with him, the others squeezed into the back. The town was still and dark. The windows were rolled down halfway, the cold night air rushing in around me. It blew through the tight ridges of my hair, loosening it, making it wild and full.

  I will think only of the dance, I told myself, concentrating on breathing evenly. I will not think of nightmares or my birthmark or a strange man who might be stalking me.

  The school gym was a darkened, frilly confection of paper snowflakes. I left my sweater by the door and my shoulders gleamed under the twinkling silver lights. Austin and Brandt immediately helped themselves to the bubbly punch, spiking their cups with something Austin carried in a flask. The music was louder than I would have expected, people shouting over it to their friends. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, though few were dancing. Most were clustered in groups, talking, laughing, holding hands, sending people back and forth as messengers. I hung out in Austin's shadow, watching the goings-on without speaking.

  "This is so lame," Joy commented.

  "Aren't you the one who planned it?" Brandt said.

  "Uh, yeah, along with the rest of the student council. Nobody wanted to use my ideas." She attempted to fluff her hair nervously.

  "Well, I think it's fun," Chris chirped.

  I stood there dumbly as conversation progressed into school gossip, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. I was as good as alone there in the paper-winter gym. A wallflower. I felt restless. Tonight, tonight.

  A popular song began playing. Brandt led Chris out into the center of the gym to dance, if the jerky movements my brother made could be called dancing. More like an impersonation of someone being electrocuted. It was funny and people were laughing, but in a good-natured way. Nobody ever laughed meanly at my brother.

  I sucked in a deep breath and tapped Austin on the shoulder. I nodded to the dance floor, smiling hesitantly. He stared at me in confusion and for a moment I thought I'd embarrassed myself, but then he smiled and took my hand. My heart pounded heavily as we joined the other dancers.

  The song was upbeat and rhythmic. I swallowed my anxieties, telling myself people had better things to do than laugh at me, especially since Brandt now seemed to be putting on a show for everyone. I began to move awkwardly and Austin looked just as uncomfortable, sort of bouncing up and down while rocking from side
to side. His gaze kept straying to various points in the room and it was clear he didn't want to be anywhere near the dance floor.

  Beams of white light passed over us, circling among the dancing bodies. I started to feel more relaxed, realizing Austin wasn't going to look directly at me if he could help it. If only it could always be this way, I thought. Just me and music and light bouncing off me. Me and a soft darkness, where no one could see my face.

  I let my eyes travel around the room. Beyond Austin's shoulder I spotted a shadowed figure that looked vaguely familiar. He stood at the very edge of the gym, just beyond the reach of the swirling beams of light. My heart lurched. It was Ahaziel, of course. Stalking me, again.

  I blinked and he disappeared. Had I imagined him?

  Feeling uneasy, I mumbled an incoherent excuse to Austin and brushed past him. I wandered to the bathroom, thinking a splash of water to my face might help clear my mind. It seemed I was going crazy.

  The bathroom was brightly lit in contrast to the darkness of the gym. A few girls crowded the sinks, fixing their hair and makeup. I patiently waited my turn, in no hurry to get back to the dance. I was in no hurry for anything, especially the party we were supposed to have for me after the dance. For some reason I felt nothing good could come of it. I wondered if the others would still celebrate without me if I decided to leave the dance and head home on my own. Probably. I wasn't even sure why I'd accepted Austin's invitation.

  As I stepped up to a sink, seeing my wavy image in the cheap metal mirror, the girl beside me glanced over. I knew her from some of my classes but couldn't remember her name. I tried ignoring her, convinced she was staring at my birthmark. She handed me a wad of paper towels to dry my face.

  "Thanks," I mumbled.

  "Do you want to borrow some makeup?" she asked pleasantly.

  I felt my expression harden with suspicion. "Why?"

  She shrugged. "Just thought you might want to put on some lipstick or something. I have a lot of stuff in my bag. Mascara and all that."

  "Oh," I said, feeling instantly ashamed. "All right." I wasn't used to people acting friendly for no reason. I always expected the worst of them. Like with Joy, who never had anything nice to say to me.

  I didn't wear much makeup since nothing ever fully covered my birthmark, but I rummaged through the girl's bag anyway. I pulled out a tube of silver lipstick and slicked it on. Next I found a pot of glitter and dabbed some on my cheekbones and eyelids. I smiled into the mirror, liking the effect.

  "I'm Mirain."

  I stared, momentarily confused. The girl was introducing herself to me? Did she want to be friends? I managed a smile as I struggled to regain my composure. "Oh, yeah. From Drawing." She was the girl who had called my self-portrait sophisticated. "I'm Lilly. Um . . . thanks for the makeup."

  "No problem."

  "Are you . . . Who did you come with? To the dance."

  "A couple of friends," Mirain replied nonchalantly. "You're here with Austin?"

  "Yeah," I said, blushing. "I don't even know why he asked me. He hardly looks at me."

  "Just be yourself."

  I nodded silently, as if this was the best advice I had ever received. How did I begin to be myself around someone who would barely talk to me?

  "See you later," I said, smiling at Mirain as I left the bathroom. I hoped I would see her. Ever since Chris had started dating Brandt, I'd felt lonely and betrayed. It was time for me to start hanging out with other people—past time. And I wouldn't just sit there in silence the next time Joy made a rude remark.

  I wandered along the edge of the gym, looking for my group. Not seeing them anywhere, I felt a flash of fear that they'd abandoned me. I shouldn't have left them, I should have thought . . . Then I spotted them clustered near the folded bleachers, socializing with some other friends. A perky blonde cheerleader was flirting with Austin, tugging him towards the dance floor. I felt no jealousy as I began making my way towards them, determined to smile and have a good time. I wouldn't let my self-consciousness get the best of me.

  Nearing the bleachers, I slowed when I spotted that familiar shadowed figure lurking in a corner. Ahaziel stepped forward and his features came into focus. So I hadn't imagined him. He was here. He had come looking for me. I felt the breath leave my body and my feet steered me in his direction. Why was I drawn to him even as I feared him? He was so different from the boys at school. But he wasn't a boy, I reminded myself. He was a man.

  An image flashed in my mind: Ahaziel and I in some sort of enclosed space. Outside, but not. The crashing of the ocean. Cold air prickling my skin . . . I felt a surge of attraction so strong it frightened and embarrassed me. I struggled to withstand the weight of his eyes. His gaze was so intense and inscrutable.

  "I'm sorry," I blurted, stopping a few feet from him. Mentally I smacked myself. Why had I felt the need to apologize? He was the creepy one. "What are you doing here?" I demanded. The music didn't seem as loud over here and I didn't have to raise my voice to be heard, but he didn't answer. He just kept staring, his eyes unfathomable. "What are you doing here?" I repeated, more shrilly this time. "Who are you?"

  "I need you to remember," he said urgently.

  "Remember what?"

  "Lilly!"

  I turned and saw Chris standing behind me. "Who are you talking to?"

  Rolling my eyes, I glanced over my shoulder. Ahaziel had vanished, much to my surprise. Had I imagined him after all? What was happening to me?

  "Er, no one," I answered awkwardly. "I was just . . . waiting for you guys."

  "Oh. Well, we're leaving now. Are you coming? You have to come! This is going to be your birthday celebration!"

  I nodded, still feeling uncertain as I grabbed my sweater and followed her out of the gym. The others waited by the car.

  Austin's house was huge, much too big for a family of three, but it proved ideal for parties and hanging out, especially since his parents were never home. The basement was fully finished, furnished, and equipped with its own small kitchen. This was where we hung out whenever we went to Austin's house. Even when his parents were home, they never popped in to see what we were up to.

  Only after we'd been driving a few minutes did I realize Austin's house was in the opposite direction from which we were headed.

  "Where are we going?" I asked.

  "To Havelock Point," Joy said, leaning forward from the back seat. "You gave me the idea yesterday, actually. Were you listening at all when we discussed this at the Blue Shrimp?"

  Obviously not.

  "I thought we were going to Austin's house," I said.

  "We changed our minds."

  "Why?" I demanded. I probably sounded unreasonably panicked, but to me, my panic felt perfectly rational.

  "We're just going to have some drinks, cause a little trouble," Brandt assured me. "No big deal."

  "We got some cupcakes earlier," Chris said. "They're in the trunk."

  I had no idea when she'd had time to go to the store and get cupcakes without me knowing about it, but the thought of a sugary treat was strangely comforting to me. I relaxed in my seat and told myself I had nothing to worry about. My panic was unreasonable.

  Havelock Point was fifteen miles outside of town by way of the snaking highway—it was actually a much shorter walk through the woods from most places in town, as I'd found out firsthand the other day. Two dark walls of trees loomed tall on either side of us as we sped toward it, curves in the road hiding whatever lay ahead. Soon we slowed and turned onto a long, tree-choked drive that took us up a steep, rough hill. The BMW's headlights provided the only illumination for miles. I shuddered, imagining horrors waiting within the surrounding forest. Imagining ghosts floating behind the windows of the house, beneath the roof.

  Nothing to worry about, remember?

  Austin turned down the music and parked, gravel crunching satisfyingly beneath the tires. When he killed the engine, all was silent except the brief slamming of car doors. The lightkeeper's house
was just a dark, hulking silhouette against the sky until Brandt and Austin pointed flashlights at it, the feeble circles revealing only small portions of the house's facade.

  "Oh, this isn't good," Chris mumbled.

  "It'll be all right," I assured her optimistically. But I gave another involuntary shudder as the guys led us through the broken picket fence, flashlight beams dancing erratically. It would have to be all right if I was the one giving assurance.

  The porch creaked beneath the weight of five people. We all held our breath as we went inside, straining to see through the thick gloom of the foyer. I huddled close behind Austin, fear causing me nearly to trip over my own feet.

  "Go straight ahead," I advised him. "The living room is there."

  It was an empty, open space, just as I'd remembered. Vague moonlight shone quietly through the windows onto the floorboards. I was starting to feel better about having come. The house was so dark and still, so silent, yet being there with my friends made my fears seem silly. The house wasn't ominous at all. It was just a house, albeit old and abandoned and drafty, after all.

  "How did you know where the living room was?" Joy asked, tossing a duffel bag to the floor. I hadn't noticed her carrying it.

  "Um, I don't know," I said. "I just sort of guessed." I was glad she didn't press me further.

  "This is spooky," Chris said dourly.

  Joy rummaged through the duffel bag, producing some blankets for us to ward off the chill. I doubted we'd need them, though. Austin had his own bag of warmth, filled with bottles pilfered from his parents' well-stocked cabinet of expensive liquor.

  "Here, this will help," Austin said. He pulled out a bottle and handed it to Chris. She accepted, taking a reluctant sip, and passed it on. I only pretended to drink when it was my turn. I was beginning to feel uneasy again and wondered why I'd decided it was a good idea to come here after all. My fear of the house was coming back, much too strongly for my liking.