Page 17

CHAPTER

ELEVEN

ERIN

Holding a fundraiser for the Holt family is ironic, considering they have millions of dollars in the bank, but it perfectly captures the spirit of Pasturesville.

The entire community has rallied around the Holts in the wake of the tragedy.

The Stonybridge rumor mill has informed me that Nate’s living with Oliver, while his parents have temporarily moved into their summer house.

Once the school year ends, Nate will join them in the Hamptons, but he can’t abandon football mid-season.

“How long do we have to stay?” I grumble, letting Mom steer me through the school gardens by our linked arms.

Despite my objections, Mom insisted I attend the fundraiser. I’m dressed like we’re attending a funeral. A bland black dress with a demure pearl necklace. It’s perfect. Plain. An outfit that won’t attract attention.

The sun beams over the stalls erected in the academy’s grounds.

Local businesses are selling their wares and donating the proceeds directly to the Holts.

Circular tables decorated with extravagant floral arrangements are spread over the lawn.

Sparkling wine circulates on silver trays for parents, while their kids sneak glugs of champagne from behind the trees.

“We’ll stay as long as we need to,” Mom hisses through gritted teeth. She smiles, waving at another parent she recognizes, before dropping her voice. “Be nice, Erin. We’re representing our family today. Think about your father’s reputation.”

For once, Dad isn’t attending. Apparently, he has too much work. He’s been exceptionally busy lately. When he’s not at Sunnycrest, he’s locked in his office and only comes out to eat. Not that I’m complaining.

It’s easy to pick Mrs. Holt out in the crowd. She sits, dabbing her crocodile tears with a handkerchief, surrounded by other fussing mothers. Her sly smile hints she’s enjoying all the extra attention.

“I’m going to find Mia,” I say. At least she’ll make the afternoon bearable.

“Oh, Nate!” I hear Lindsay before I see her. She and other students perch around the giant water fountain. “It’s just terrible. I can’t even imagine what you’re going through.”

Lindsay hangs off Nate’s arm, pawing his leg like she’s a supervillain stroking a cat.

“It hasn’t been easy,” Nate says. “But Dad’s already started the reconstruction. He wanted to remodel anyway, so it almost saved him a job.”

“I heard you almost died,” Lindsay says. “Didn’t the fire start right outside your room?”

My ears prick up.

“Yeah, it’s lucky I noticed the smoke coming up under the door,” he mumbles. Maybe he’s more shaken up than he makes out. He catches me staring and jumps up. “Excuse me for a second.”

I pace away in the opposite direction, cursing myself for sticking around to satisfy my own morbid curiosity.

“Erin!” Nate calls. “Wait!”

Shit. I can’t exactly ignore the guy the fundraiser is in aid of. He jogs to catch up, and I turn to face him. We stand in silence, waiting for the other to talk.

“I’m sorry about your house,” I say, being the first to break it. Thankfully, he doesn’t notice my insincerity. “I’m glad you aren’t hurt.”

“Thanks,” he says. “It’s been crazy.”

“I’ve got to find Mia,” I say, trying to make a polite getaway and avoid causing a scene. “I promised I’d meet her.”

“Before you go…” He grabs my wrist. “There’s something I want to say.”

His touch scorches my skin, and I wrench my hand away. The masked men’s threat screeches through my mind. Touching me once got his house burned down. I don’t want any blood on my hands.

“It’s about what happened at the Harvest Ball,” he says, then sighs.

“Look, I was out of line. I had too much to drink and got carried away…” He looks away shamefully, tucking his hands into his chino pockets.

“I really am sorry. Nothing like that will ever happen again, but… I really do like you. If you give me a second chance, I’ll?—”

“Look, Nate,” I interrupt. “I don’t date, and neither do you. The Harvest Ball was a one-off. I think we’re better off as friends. “

His eyes widen in shock. Did he expect I’d give him a second chance because of his current situation? Lindsay would give him a blowjob for less.

“Okay,” he says after a stagnant pause. “Just friends.”

“Enjoy the rest of your day,” I say, leaving him behind.

I know my worth, and an entitled football player doesn’t cut it.

“There you are!” Mia creeps up behind me, pinching my hips and making me jump out of my skin. “Whoa, sorry!” She frowns. “You’ve gone as white as a ghost. Are you feeling okay? I thought you were better after that bout of food poisoning.”

Since the ball, we haven’t had time to catch up about what happened. The school play is approaching, and she’s been busy rehearsing, which is a relief because it would have been hard to hide that I’m distracted.

“Sorry,” I reply. “You just surprised me, that’s all.”

“I saw you speaking to Nate,” she says. “How are things between you?”

“We decided that it’s best we just stay friends,” I say. “Nothing more.”

“Shame.” She sighs dramatically. “I thought you guys could go on a double date with me and Oliver. You seemed to get on well at the ball. Everyone saw you making out in the middle of the dance floor.”

I shrug. “I don’t have time for a relationship right now, and neither does he, especially after everything that’s happened. It’s better this way.”

“Well, Lindsay already hates you,” she says. “If you guys started dating for real, she’d smother you to death with her pom-poms.”

I roll my eyes and change the subject. “How are things with you and Oliver?”

“Great,” she replies, beaming. “I think things might actually work out between us this time. I know he can be a jerk sometimes, but…”

“Mia Jade Moldova!” Ms. Moldova joins us, wielding two empty vases. “Where have you been?”

“I’ve been catching up with Erin,” she says innocently.

“It’s great to see you again, Erin,” Ms. Moldova says, then her eyes narrow at her daughter. “Can you fill these up? People are going crazy because there isn’t enough water for all the flowers. You’re supposed to be helping.”

“But, Mom—” Mia whines.

“Mia!” Principal Wire intervenes, appearing from out of nowhere.

Instead of his signature suit, he’s wearing a golf shirt and pants.

Seeing teachers in their ordinary clothes is like seeing animals out in the wild.

“This must be your mother.” He smiles, a little too widely, and holds his hand out.

“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced, Ms. Moldova.

I hear Mia is doing wonderful things in our school play. ”

“I’ll fill the vases,” I volunteer, seeing an opportunity to escape and grabbing it.

“I’ll help!” Mia offers, miraculously feeling more charitable.

“I’m sure Erin can handle the task on her own,” Principal Wire says. No doubt he’s eager to sidle up to a world-famous pianist. “Don’t you?”

“I’ll be fine,” I say, shuffling away.

As the principal and her mom talk, Mia mimes, Kill me now!

I snicker, vases in hand, and head inside. A line has formed outside the restroom that includes Lindsay and her followers. To avoid any drama, I head to the girls’ locker room. No one will hang out there.

The slow faucet trickle echoes around the emptiness. It takes forever to fill the vases halfway. I put them aside and splash my face with water. I’m not wearing any makeup, despite my mother telling me to apply some blush to make me ‘look more alive’ before we left.

A door slams behind me.

“Hello?” I call, spinning. “Is anyone there?”

A masked figure appears. He’s dressed in black again: a hoodie over a pair of faded jeans, biker boots, and gloves. The Ghostface mask he’s wearing is even more terrifying than the last one.

“I thought we made ourselves clear,” Two says. He’s easily recognizable from the Southern twang in his voice. “No one touches our toy.”

He must have seen me and Nate together.

“We’re always watching,” Two says, reading my mind.

“What’s your name?” I ask.

I’ve been thinking about what to call them since their last visit. I can identify them by their voices, but they’re still abstract figures. Nameless ghosts who want to make my life miserable.

He crosses his arms. “Our names don’t matter.”

“If you’re going to be in my life, then I’d like to know what to call you,” I say, looking into the unreadable white face.

He tilts his head to the side, thinking hard.

“You can call me Eli.”

“Eli?”

The name is ordinary, and he is anything but. Giving him a name instantly humanizes him, making him more than a figment of my imagination. Does that make him any more or less scary?

“And the others?” I prompt. “Are they here too?” I expect them to jump out. “What are their names?”

“It’s just me today. I hope that doesn’t disappoint you,” he says. “If they want to tell you their names, that’s down to them.”

“Why are you here?” I ask.

He takes a step closer, leaving muddy prints on the white tiles.

“To remind you that you’re ours,” he says.

“Are you going to hurt me? Cover me in cum like your friend did?”

Unlike the others, I think I can get Two to talk. He laughs, a deep rumble, and takes something from his pocket. The missing lock of my hair.

“I always have a piece of you with me, Little Ghost,” he says, waving the strand. “But I want to leave you with a lasting memory.”

I step back. My spine presses against the cool sink as he advances, but there’s nowhere to go.

“Turn around,” he commands.

I raise my chin in challenge. “Why should I?”

“You’re getting braver,” he says, almost with admiration, then his tone shifts menacingly. “But you should be scared. A zebra doesn’t laugh in the face of a lion when she’s standing in his jaws. I won’t ask you again.”

“What if I don’t do as you say?”