Siren's Song Page 9

  She laughs and looks relieved. “I’ll ask him tomorrow night at the bonfire. You going?”

  I glance in Luke’s direction, but Mrs. Rozinski is reminding him not to be tardy since he keeps cutting it close in the mornings. “Yeah, I think Carly said something about it. We’re going together.” Will Luke be there? Probably flanked by his two bodyguards. “Speaking of birthdays, do you know when Matt Kenzie’s birthday is?”

  Madison shrugs and gathers her books as the tone sounds. “No idea. I don’t hang with the jocks. Drama freak, remember? See you at lunch.”

  Luke’s at his locker when I get out there. I walk to mine and spin the combination. He’s unloading his book bag, head bent behind his door. I wait. When he doesn’t move, I peek around. He’s reading a note. His hair hangs so I can’t see his face, but his hand crumples the small piece of paper.

  “I got one of those today, too,” I say casually. His head snaps toward me so fast I almost step back.

  “What?”

  I point to the small ball of paper in his hand. “A note, in my locker. Does yours warn you to stay away from me?” I sound calm, cheerful, even. It’s a total mask.

  “Is that what yours said?”

  I grab the note, handing it to him. He reads it quickly and his frown turns murderous. I take a small instinctive step back, giving him some room as his fist crumples my note to match his own. They drop on the floor. Maybe this is a bad time to rip into him about handing out my locker combination. “I figure it’s from Taylin. I’m not going to ask how she knows my combination.” Okay, so I had to mention it. No ripping, though.

  “I’ll take care of it,” he grinds out. He lifts his hand, the back of his finger touching my cheek in a gentle caress. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.” I can only nod. Luke drops his hand, shuts his locker and strides off in the opposite direction from chemistry.

  I watch him turn the corner and my gaze drops to the floor where the twin notes sit. I grab them and start walking. The first one I open is mine. I open the next. It’s the same handwriting. I stop in the middle of a wave of students hurrying to class as I read the words.

  Stay strong, Lucas. She’s a Siren, your Siren. Stay away from her. One way or another, brother, we’re helping you.

  When I slide into my seat by Kiara, I notice that neither Luke nor Taylin is in the back. “Hey, girl,” Kiara says, and I twitch. “Relax,” she smiles. She glances behind us. “No glares and stares today?” She sighs sarcastically. “It just won’t be the same.” Luke and Taylin don’t show up. I can barely focus on the Krebs cycle.

  Luke makes it to English and actually sits next to me. I turn to him immediately. “What did you do to Taylin?”

  “Worried about her?”

  “Well…yeah, I guess. I don’t need her more pissed at me.”

  “I just talked to her.” He smiles, but his face is tense, eyes hard. “I let her know she is never to send notes to you again and never to enter your locker.”

  “I’m getting the combination changed.”

  “Don’t bother. If she wants to get in, she will.” His hand skims mine where it rests against my lap. The heat from his palm sizzles up my arm to flush my cheeks. “But she won’t.”

  “She doesn’t seem the type to be easily controlled,” I whisper as the teacher passes out a chart listing the basic elements of a story.

  “Tay doesn’t have a choice. Neither does Matt.” He gives me a grim smile. “I’m in charge.”

  “In charge? What are you? Some sort of weird Halloween pack?”

  Laughter sits along the lines of his face even though it doesn’t erupt. His fingers trail down one of my waves of hair. He catches it to rub between his thumb and finger.

  “Like silk, warm, the color of rich earth with the smell of lilacs,” he whispers so that only I can hear. I hang on his words like they are a caress. Like a spell, they distract me from my question. I open my mouth to say something—not sure what, but something.

  “I swear, Jule, I won’t let anyone hurt you.” He lets my hair go and turns forward so that his last words are barely audible at all. “Not even me.”

  * * *

  “So, what are you two?” Carly asks at our table in the cafeteria. “Lindsey said he was fondling your hair in English and that you two were whispering.”

  “God, Carly, I don’t know.” I run down the events of the morning.

  “No shit,” Carly says and shakes her head.

  “Do you know when Matt’s birthday is? Because I’m pretty sure Taylin and Luke both have Halloween birthdays.”

  Carly stares, open-mouthed. I can see bits of chewed-up pizza in there. Eeww! She swallows. “October thirty-first.” She lowers her voice. “What do you think that means? They all have the same birthday.”

  “I don’t know, but it’s frickin’ weird. And they act so protective around Luke, even though I don’t think Luke needs any protecting.”

  “From the notes, it sounds like they think they need to protect him from hurting you.” She sips her soda, eyebrows raised.

  “But why would he hurt me? I think…well, he seems to like me. Sometimes, anyway.”

  “His bad temper?”

  “The boy leaves me lasagna and feeds my dog.”

  “He breaks into your house when you’re all alone and has befriended your only protector.”

  “Mica? Some protector. He could just lock her in a closet.”

  Carly shrugs. “I don’t know. Granted, the boy is hot with those biceps and his rough cover-model perfection, but if he’s dangerous, you should stay away from him. Call the cops the next time he breaks in.”

  “God, Carly, you flip opinions so fast I can’t keep up. If I call the cops, he’ll think I’m as paranoid as my mom. And I can just see the faces of the police when I tell them he broke in and left me dinner.”

  She shrugs and chews. She tips her head meaningfully toward the double doors.

  Luke walks into the cafeteria. Taylin follows him silently, tray in hand. She doesn’t even glance in my direction. His gaze dances across me and he smiles softly, almost intimately as he walks toward the jocks sitting with Matt against the far side of the room. Matt makes room for them, and amazingly it seems the jocks have no qualms about letting them sit at their table.

  “Hey, Madison is flapping her hand at us. She must have Derek’s cake,” Carly says and stands. “Let’s go.”

  I head over with Carly to Madison where she lights a large number one and seven on top of a cake with the drama masks iced on top. “Think the candles will make the alarm go off?” I wonder out loud.

  “We’ll be quick about it,” Madison whispers with a giggle. “He’s over there.” She picks the cake up and the three of us march across the cafeteria to where Derek sits with a few other people from drama. Apparently they are in on it, too, because as soon as they see us, one girl starts singing the Happy Birthday song.

  I join in, singing softly, but my voice still carries. All eyes turn toward me, but it feels too good to stop. The magic bubbles out on my breath, a sweet ribbon of sound. It’s just a short, simple song. Not enough to entrance anyone, I think.

  A roar fills the cafeteria and interrupts the song. I turn, my words splintered by the ferocity in that sound. Luke stares straight into my eyes as he breathes hard. His hands are solid fists at his sides, as if he’s fighting back some mutant force that threatens to change him into the Incredible Hulk right before my eyes. His face pinches taut, fierce. His black eyes reflect an unnatural sheen and narrow with what looks like demonic fury.

  “Luke?” I whisper.

  He charges.

  7

  “Curiosity will conquer fear even more than bravery will.”

  ~James Stephens

  Matt tackles Luke from behind, his thick, football-player arms encircling Luke’s hips. Black, swirling tattoos, half-hidden by the sleeves of Luke’s shirt, entwine his arms.

  “Stop!” Taylin yells. She jumps on the table and throws her arms wi
de as if casting some sort of spell. She’s also staring at me, so I assume I’m the one who should stop, even though I already have. Maybe she means Luke. I’m frozen in horror. As if on cue, the rest of the small group around Derek continues the end of the birthday song, their weak voices jumbled together.

  “Shit!” someone yells, and the group spins to witness Luke lifting Matt over his head like some professional wrestler about to end his opponent’s career by breaking his spine. Shrieks blend into yells as the rest of the football team wake up and race toward their cursing captain.

  “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 t
he 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.