Chapter 5
"It's so retarded," Victoria said, gesturing with joint in hand. She wanted Ativan but wheedling Nathan when he said he didn't have any wasn't a good idea right now. He was even touchier lately, more and more subjects off-limits lest she wanted to trigger a meltdown that he'd apologize for in the morning with a billion sad texts. She didn't have time for that right now, guilty as she felt for viewing Nathan as another obligation when she swore to him before he wasn't her burden. He was her friend.
"Have they asked you to say stuff like ' I'm experiencing the emotion of...' yet?" Nathan snorted. "I hate that one, it only made me want them to experience the feeling of my foot in their teeth."
"Worse -- meditation."
"Oh my God." He reached for her joint and she held it out of his reach, nudging him with her stocking feet. He slugged her in the thigh and shoved her backwards onto her bed, claiming his prize.
"Jerk!"
"I bought it!"
"It was your turn!" But she was laughing. "This is the only way I won't blow my brains out this semester." She put her feet in his lap. "I'll pass on anything good."
"You better." His tone worried her. She raised her head, watched his tense profile in the dark.
"Hey. Be careful with Caulfield. Letting you into her room was a one-time deal." And texting her that shit after the fact -- Victoria shouldn't have taken that risk even for Nathan.
"Why not? She's a fucking snitch, look what she did because she was pissed about some trashed selfies." Victoria bit her tongue from saying it was more than that. She thought Nathan might mess with her a little, not destroy her place so bad it would make her hate them more.
"She's a headcase, but she didn't rat me out to the counselor."
"Then who?"
"Don't worry about it yet. I'm still deciding what to do with them." And true, Taylor crossed her, but Victoria wasn't, like, a monster. Icing her out of the club for a month or two was a proportionate response; not whatever Nathan would do to her.
‘I'm worried about you,’ her ass. Everyone knew Taylor was drooling over the chance to take credit for planning the next official Vortex Club party -- something Victoria couldn't do now since she was stuck listening to freaks after school.
Taylor overreacted. It was Adderall, they both took it to cram for finals and kill their appetites before bikini season every year. Victoria just fucked up and passed out on her once. Not an emergency.
And "bitter spurned lesbian" wasn't a good look for her. Some part of Victoria feared this was her petty revenge for ghosting her after their hookup and subsequent drama-filled rejection. There was making out at parties on a dare and then there was that night they'd been tipsy and Victoria wound up with her hand down Taylor's panties, the other laughing "Not with those nails." No point in dwelling on what she could've said differently.
"Ooh, feel like something bad?"
"Don't you fucking know it."
*
Alice snuggled against Kate's chest, and Kate pet her silky ears, knowing she had the sweetest bunny in the world. She'd let her run free since she got back from that meeting, comforted by her presence. At least somebody wanted to be with her.
Max wasn't returning her texts. She should've expected that.
I didn't tell Mr. Jefferson about the roof, just that I was worried about you.
I'm still here for you.
Silence.
"Time for bed, Allywag," she said gently, stooping down to put her in her cage. It shocked her when she pulled away -- hard enough she was scared it must've travelled through Alice but the bunny twitched her nose oblivious. It hurt like this all the time now -- she hated doorknobs, her keys, the lockers, and so much as brushing by one of the pierced crowd who could always be found under the bleachers during gym.
The worst time was still the first, six months ago. One moment she stepped forward to receive the Eucharist, her lips closed around the rim of the chalice, and then pain cleaved her head. She felt herself fall and fall, although she’d merely slumped over and twitched and seized on the floor as images she’d since forgotten flooded her brain. Next thing she knew she was on a stretcher being wheeled outside and Lynn was crying.
“Dad?” she’d whispered as she lay in the hospital bed, and he squeezed her hand tighter between his own, pressed it to his cheek and gave thanks that God had returned his light safely. Kate just wanted a bucket to throw up in.
Since then, the memories of what she’d seen had faded but that was only because so many new sights flooded her every time she touched someone’s things. She picked up a dropped pencil and saw its owner trying to peek at their classmate’s test. An abandoned paperback and a memory of hiding in the library until closing because the reader was afraid to go home. She’d probably stolen a dozen kisses off of lost chapsticks, water bottles, and forgotten cups of coffee.
At first, distance was the only cure. She isolated herself and clung to her things, her memories, until one day their Media Literacy professor made everyone switch up seating arrangements and Max sat beside her and Kate felt...nothing. Her head was clear for the first time in a week, a month. Max wasn’t free of sensations, but she held them much closer to herself -- until the other day on the roof.
Her camera betrayed her. In an instant, Kate felt her body tugged along on invisible strings as someone ordered to walk right onto the ledge and look over campus, contemplating her own death. She was frightened, yes, but above all nothing in her power would let her move. Someone had taken away every last bit of agency from her, until the door opened and -- Then Kate dropped the bits of the camera she picked up, and the vision left.
And then there was what she saw last night after glimpsing the double moons: the memories were gone, except for black smoke and the sharp staccato of gunfire echoing off the walls. A group screaming, Kate’s voice among them. Combined with what she felt in the room earlier, a part of a strong circle of energy that almost took her under, it made Kate realize something she’d been denying since that first time: there was something happening to her, and at Blackwell.
Maybe Max knew. When Kate reached for her, she felt a thread snap and something else tether them together for a moment, and she felt something tearing at Max give way. And she’d pulled her down to safety. How to get Max to talk to her, now that she was angry and closed off?
Kate went to her desk and touched the photo of her sisters, trying something she’d been too afraid to do until recently: she tried to draw up the memory it contained. Her head started to throb from effort, until she heard Lynn laugh suddenly and her middle sister call “Katie! Keep up!” They were hiking and the girls dared her to race them to the top of a hill, and laughing at her as she struggled to in her skirt. The sun was so warm on her face and Kate was smiling even though she was losing…
Kate came back down, her body buzzing with that static she feared growing to love too much. Her head didn’t hurt anymore, and her breathing slowed down like she’d taught herself when this happened. The wind rattled her window, making her jump, and looking outside she saw a sliver of the moon. She put her hands over her stomach, which always surged when she saw it now, and her breathing stayed even even as her vision swam…
The last thing she saw clearly was her bedroom door, and then her own hand reaching out to open it, swinging inward with the finality of a guillotine.
*
Warren knew that there wasn’t supposed to be another supermoon for three years. He knew the moon overhead wasn’t even in the right phase, and that there was no windstorm forecasted tonight. He knew that the low temperature for the night was in the mid-40s, and his feet were going to freeze off if he kept going across the courtyard.
He just didn’t know why he couldn’t stop walking, and why he’d left his dorm in his pajamas, barefoot, into the night toward the school building. The wind picked up and he shook uncontrollably, but he went on toward the group of figures huddled by the lowlights of the garden’s edge. Right in front of Rachel Amber’s memorial.
He was probably going to lose his extremities to hypothermia, but at least his migraine had cleared up. He’d been lying facedown in bed, his room pitch-dark with a towel stuffed under the door and the curtains drawn in a futile effort to stem the pain. It’d kicked in right after group, when he got that familiar tension and swell of feelings, and by the time he was in his dorm he had to go straight to the bathroom to puke.
Speaking of group -- there they were, plus another girl standing by Max, slouched and arms crossed, looking at the remaining tokens left in honor of Rachel. When he entered the circle they’d gathered in around Kate, the wind picked up furiously before dying down, and warmth enfolded him. “Max?” he said, but she didn’t notice him.
She was too focused on Kate, standing eerily still, unmoved by the wind and not answering Max. He rubbed his eyes, but nope -- the gentle aura around her wasn’t a side-effect of his faded migraine. A silvery substance oozed from the corner of her mouth when she spoke: “God, you guys are slow. It only took you six months to listen to me.”
“And I’m already gone,” Victoria said, but when she tried to step back, she snapped forward by some invisible force. “Let go of me you psycho!” She struggled, but she couldn’t get further than the edge of the sidewalk, and looked like she was shadowboxing a ghost, or a seizing puppet. Experimentally, Warren took a few steps backward and jerked forward just as hard as if he was on a roller coaster that came to a dead stop mid-fall.
“Kate, stop it,” Max said, hugging herself, and Kate shook her head.
“I’m not Kate, and I can’t let you guys go.” Victoria shrieked as she dropped to the ground. “I can’t leave here. It’s where I fucking died.” Hearing any swear coming from Kate felt like he’d crossed into the Mirror Universe. “This is the only place I can reach you.”
“This isn’t fucking funny!” The stranger said, a line of blood under her nose. She rubbed at her upper lip before continuing, “It’s where Rachel died, and you --”
“Chloe,” Kate said gently, stepping toward her and reaching out, cupping her cheek while she froze. “It’s Rachel.” Firm tendrils of visible energy extended from her and snared the other girl -- Chloe -- even as Chloe slapped her hand away.
“Don’t,” she said lowly. “Rachel is…” She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut, the anguish so palpable Warren’s eyes watered involuntarily. “You aren’t Rachel.”
“How now, spirit?” Kate said gently, and stroked Chloe’s hair behind her ear. “Do you remember that night? How I…” She kissed the fingertips of her left hand and pressed them to Chloe’s mouth despite her effort to jerk her head away. “How can I know that if I’m Kate?” She leaned in and put her hands on Chloe’s shoulders, looking up into her face. “Chloe, I’ve missed you so much. I came back for you.”
Looking at the two of them, he wanted to scream and pass out and cry until his throat tore up, and Chloe beat him to it when she threw her arms around Kate and started to cry so hard he thought she’d run out of breath. Max put a hand on her back, but she didn’t even notice her. Warren wiped at his face until it felt raw, but the tears wouldn’t stop. He was invisible to Rachel Amber, but now he felt like he’d loved her more than anyone and would rather die than let go of her again.
Kate finally extricated herself from a still-sniffling Chloe, gently wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. “Shh, shh, there isn’t much time. Kate’s trying to evict me and she’s hella strong.” She stepped back despite Chloe’s attempts to hold onto her, and looked over the group. “If you’re here, that means you’re the only ones who’ve heard me, and have discovered your powers.”
“Powers and ghosts, got it,” Victoria said scornfully. “Kate, give me some of whatever you’re on.”
“I missed you, too, Victoria.” Kate carried herself differently, and the way she looked at Victoria with a knowing smile was so unlike her. “Were you happy when I died and you had a clear shot at winning last year’s art show?” She nodded in the face of Victoria’s eye-widening, embarrassed silence. “Thought so.”
“What did you do to Kate?” Max cut through the noise in his head, thankfully. “Is she okay?”
“She’ll be fine, it’s -- this is her element.” Kate pinched the bridge of her nose. “And she’s kicking my ass, so everyone be quiet for a second. Long story short, this is where I was murdered, okay? That’s why I’m here. And you guys heard me.”
Warren felt like he’d been suckerpunched. “Murdered?” he said quietly.
“Someone forced me into that window,” Kate said darkly, looking up at the last place she’d been alive. “And I wasn’t strong enough to keep from jumping. My power didn’t do shit.”
“Who, Rachel?” Chloe said brokenly. She sounded like a little girl. “Who do I have to kill?”
“...I don’t know. I never saw who.” Kate shook her head. “But I should’ve known -- I felt someone following me, and...saw things, and did things I couldn’t understand.” She held her head. “Goddamn it, stop it! Give me another minute!” She gasped. “You all know you’re not the same people as you were before I died. Maybe one of you is already being followed. Someone’s next.” Her words came faster, edging out their questions: “Wherever I am, I can see one thing: I know if you’re here you’re all a part of this. Someone wants us dead. Figure out who, embrace your powers, and stay in the circle.” She staggered and Chloe grabbed her, holding her as they sank to the ground together and held her in her lap.
“Stay here!”
“I want to.” Kate smiled sadly at her. “Stay in the circle. You’re all the key to what’s going on here.” Her eyes closed, and she relaxed in Chloe’s lap, not responding when she shook her.
“Rachel?” Chloe said, shaking her harder, lifting her head. “You can’t leave,” she pleaded. Kate didn’t glow anymore, and the wind had died down. The night was so still, so quiet, until footsteps behind him made him turn.
“Curfew exists for a reason,” Mr. Jefferson said sternly, looking all of them over. “But based on what I just saw… I’m going to let this one slide.”
*
Saturday morning dawned and Max hadn’t slept a bit. Her head was spinning after last night, and Mr. Jefferson finding them all and bidding they all come to his classroom tomorrow morning before dismissing them. She and Chloe helped Kate back to her room and after Chloe finally got the hint that Kate couldn’t summon spirits on command, they holed up in Max’s room. Neither had a lot to say, and finally without a word Chloe simply leaned back on the couch and shut her eyes, dozing off. She’d given herself a pretty serious headache earlier trying to push back against Rachel’s hold on them, and at least her nose wasn’t bleeding anymore.
She didn’t wake up in any better mood. Her head was between her knees as she curled in on herself. “Last night can suck my dick.” That dreamy moment they’d had in the park last night was definitely over. Max sat beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. “I don’t know why she even came if she was just gonna bail again.”
“She told you -- she came back for you. She wants you to be safe.” Max cheated a bit and let her power seep through her palm, focusing on easing the tension in Chloe’s body. Slowly, she uncurled and laid back in her seat, sighing. “Just like I do.”
“Well she didn’t care enough to tell me what was going on before she died.” The rainy weather outside made Chloe look positively gray, and her eyes seemed faraway. “Like that would’ve done any good.”
“Then it’s a good thing you told me.”
“And dragged you into the shitshow that is my life?”
Max scooted closer to her and rested her head on Chloe’s shoulder. She focused on Chloe's steady breathing, shut her eyes, and felt sleep creeping into her brain. When they were kids William would shove the coffee table against the sliding glass door, help them build a blanket fort, and let them stay up watching cartoons and movies until they passed out. She woke up once in the middle of the night, scared of every object and sound, and cuddled closer to Chloe and listened to her breathe until she felt safe again.
"I guess we should get ready," Chloe said with resignation. She gently shifted Max off her and got up, stretching her arms above her head and getting on the balls of her feet. "Got anything cool to wear? My stank is making even me sick."
"Maybe not cool enough for you, but help yourself."
Max checked her phone while Chloe rifled through her things. Warren blew up her phone all night, and he'd sent her another three since she spoke with Chloe.
wtf was last night??
I looked into it and you know mass hysteria's a documented thing? Maybe we all shared a hallucination or something.
Max?
She debated not replying, but she tapped something out anyway: I guess we'll find out soon. See you in class. TTYL.
why don't we get coffee before? I'll buy.
sorry, busy. Rain check?
sure thing. You're busy a lot huh.
Max set her phone to charge instead of engaging. Warren could be so fun when he wasn't...doing this. He acted fine when she turned him down for the drive-in -- he even took Brooke, he told her later -- but then it was back to this.
"You know, if you shredded some of this and got some new kicks, you'd have potential." Chloe checked herself out in the mirror, mussing her hair and trying to adjust Max's gray pants so the cuffs didn't stop above her ankles. She snatched some safety pins off Max's bedside table and rolled her red t-shirt sleeves up, pinning them in place to make a sleeveless top, stole Max's wristband and paired it with her own boots, belts, beanie, and bootstraps. She turned toward Max and spread her arms. "Ta-dah! See how much better you could look?"
Max smiled; she did look cute, and even Max's plain old clothes couldn't make her look too goofy. "You can't tempt me to the Thrash Side just yet."
"There is cool in you, I sense it," Chloe said gravely, approaching her and trying to grab her, and Max ducked out of her reach, laughing. Chloe took off her bullet necklace and dangled it in front of Max. "At least take this. Baby steps." She lifted up and put it over Max's head, lifting her hair so she could secure it around her neck, brushing her skin.
"Thanks." Max touched the bullets; they hit the center of her breastbone.
"Take good care of this, okay?" Chloe sobered. "Rachel gave it to me, but..." She lifted her shoulder. "It's kinda heavy to hold onto right now." She rubbed the back of her neck, the motion lifting the hem of Max's shirt above her hipbone. "And if you keep them you gotta promise something."
"What?"
"That you won't leave like she did."
"Chloe..." No pressure, just 'Never die.' "After you."
Chloe shook her head. "Worth a shot." Max wanted to press why she didn't say the same, but Chloe waved her off as if anticipating the question. "Let's get this shit over with."
*
Victoria needed four different products to cover her undereye circles this morning. She just had nightmares when she tried to sleep where no matter how hard she tried she could barely move in the windstorm, and whatever chased her tried to strangle her when it caught her. Still, no matter who the audience was, she had to look her best no matter how shitty she felt. Her skill for raging all night and showing up to class perfectly put together the next morning was legendary. And seeing Max and Chloe -- oh Jesus, she was wearing Max's dorky clothes, nauseating...
Taylor circled around for inspection, displaying the new jacket Victoria gave her. "How do I look?"
"Flawless, like your stylist." She folded down and straightened the bomber jacket's lapels. "Wear this to the next party and Zachary will be all 'Juliet, who?'"
"Who needs him?" She plucked lint off Victoria's shoulder. "Let's go doe and make everyone jealous they can't look as good as we do together." She looked at Victoria expectantly, and faltered when she didn't respond. "Uh, kidding. Thanks for lending me this."
"Keep it." Victoria felt herself standing between two choices, neither risk-free. "You really pull it off." Not 'You look really hot.' A month ago that wouldn't have a deeper meaning.
“Oh hey, it’s the Wicked Bitch of the West. Got any water, Max?”
“Don’t you have anything better to do than skulk around here? You were expelled like three years ago.”
Price put her hands up and smirked at her. “And I’m back as a VIP.”
“This isn’t ‘Future Parolees of America,’ so how about you --”
“No one’s making you stay, Victoria,” Max cut in, leaning in front of Chloe so she was between them. Behind her back, Chloe stuck both middle fingers up and pulled the corners of her mouth up with them to mock her.
“Let your Attack Dyke do the trash-talking for you, Max. She’s less embarrassing.”
"It's not hard when you give everyone material."
"You--"
"Both of you, enough," Max said tiredly. "Nobody wants to be here, there's no point in making it worse."
"And a good point, Max," Mark said as he came up behind them, holding a carryout tray of coffee. "Though I expect an attitude improvement once we're inside." He nodded to Chloe. "Chloe Price, right?"
"Uh, yeah."
"I thought I recognized you -- you were the model for Rachel's final project." He got a regretful yet tender expression. "It was a beautiful shot. Good job."
Chloe didn't seem to be complimented by that, looking down and away and playing with her fingers. Ungrateful bitch. Victoria would kill for that kind of praise; she'd gotten "well-framed," "great technique," and "potential." And here Chloe was getting called beautiful by proxy.
Mark unlocked the door with one hand and nudged it open with his foot, keeping it open with his back. "After you all." Victoria nearly body-checked Max out of her way, but her foot caught and she stumbled forward as her feet were yanked out from under her. She landed on her elbows and knees, humiliation worse than pain. Nobody moved to help her, and she could've snarled as she stood.
Mark shut the door before saying quietly, "Chloe, don't pull that stunt in my classroom again."
"I didn't touch her --"
"I know magic when I see it." He raised an eyebrow when she didn't respond. "And I know what Max and Victoria's energies feel like."
"...Magic," Victoria said flatly. Now she knew: she'd fallen asleep after Nathan left and she was still dreaming now. That's why her real life had fused with The Craft. "You're joking right, Ma -- Mr. Jefferson?"
"Far from it, but let's wait for Warren and Kate." He offered up the tray. "Coffee?"
*
Max felt like a hot spotlight honed in on her as she sat in the circle of chairs. The static feeling wasn't in her head -- she was on magic benders. Beside her, Chloe bounced her leg and energy flared off her like she was a match head. Warren crept closer to her other side, Victoria sat across from them staring Chloe down, and Kate sat equidistant from them all, hands folded in her lap and looking exhaustedly into space.
"That was a hell of a show last night." Mr. Jefferson leaned back on his desk. "I could feel you from across campus." He nodded toward Kate. "A bit dramatic, but Kate you've shown you're a hell of a Metal witch."
Kate shook her head. "I had a bad dream. I don't know what you're talking about." Her aura was so magnetic Max felt like she'd float over to her any moment.
"Confusion's natural, but you're not alone. Look around you -- everyone in this room is a witch like you." Kate soured at that word; it probably held extra weight considering the whole...religion thing. "It's true. Chloe's element is probably Fire, based on what I saw."
"Nice." Chloe sounded pleased.
"And like senses like," he gestured to Warren. "I see a fellow Water witch here."
"There's not, like, a better word for --"
"Don't get hung up on semantics, Warren." He turned toward Max and she wanted to curl inward. She wanted answers until right now. "Max showed off the other day, and I feel comfortable guessing her element is Wood." Wood. Wood? She had an acid touch so she was one with the forest or something? "If you're not feeling too modest, you should show us later."
"And then there's the puzzle of Victoria Chase. Shot in the dark, Victoria?"
Seeing Victoria stuck for an answer and clearly put out about it was so gratifying. "Um...Water. Like you." She gave that nauseating sycophant look. "Like senses like, after all."
"Nice try, but I say Air." He cut Victoria off before she could argue. "It's not a bad choice -- some of them can fly."
"How are you so sure?"
"Because unfortunately it can't be Earth -- that was Rachel, and she's no longer part of your circle." Fortunately, nothing in the room exploded or flew around, so Chloe kept herself in check.
"So it was really Rachel?" she said fervently. "She possessed Kate? She was a witch?"
"I was not possessed," Kate said firmly. "And I am not a witch." She stood up, head bowed but fists clenched at her sides. "This is nonsense!"
"Kate, I know this is sudden, but please --"
"No! I won't listen to any more of this!"
Mr. Jefferson got between her and the door. "You don't get to make that choice." He looked hard at her until Kate wavered. "Rachel called all of you because you've been chosen. You five are still a circle; you have a purpose. She wanted to save you."
"...I have been saved," Kate finally said. "And I'm leaving now."
"Then I'm forced to report you walked out on a support group meeting. I don't want to do that, Kate. So sit." Pure blackmail, but Kate went. She put her head in her hands. He didn't miss a beat: "To answer your question, Chloe: yes. Metal witches like Kate are sensitive to spirits and Rachel was able to communicate through her last night. I'd noticed Rachel possessed some magic, but never got to ask her before it was too late. Classic Earth signs -- strength she couldn't control. Sound familiar?"
"Y-Yeah."
"It's a shame. But you're still here. She wants to make sure of that." He looked over them. "Throughout history, groups of witches have gravitated toward each other, of every element, in the face of imminent danger. Natural disasters, turning of magical epochs, and..." He cracked his neck. "Demons. Demons creeping into our world."
He waved off objections. "Hear me out. Arcadia Bay is a powerful point for magic -- woven right into the history. Raise your hand if you were born here." Four, including his own. "See? And natural witches -- those who don't need extensive training to use magic -- are rare, but not impossible. Rachel sounds like she was forced. Of course she couldn't see it -- sounds demonic to me."
"So we're above the Hellmouth?"
"Not quite. But something's invaded the bay. Did everyone see the double blood moon recently?" Answers ranged. "Points to the two people telling the truth. Victoria, Kate, Warren -- you all know what you saw." He crossed his arms. "Water rules the mind. I happen to be a human lie detector."
Max hoped that wasn't universal. She couldn't imagine a Warren who could read her mind. "But what do we do?"
He pulled something off his desk -- a book and a loupe. "The Book of Patterns is a start. This is my copy, but you all can have it. My eye's more for photography." The silence seemed to bother him. "Let's regroup. Get some rest and I'll see most of you tomorrow. Kate?" He offered her the book, and set it at her feet when she wouldn't take it. She walked past it when she left; Max retrieved it and held it close for a moment, trying to feel some potent, purposeful aura about it, but it was just a book.
Before she could consult him, Chloe grabbed her by the arm and dragged her out of the room and partway down the hall before she freed herself. "Chloe!
She leaned in and whispered in her ear: "Come on -- I need your help with something. I know where we can find more info about what happened to Rachel."