Pretty Dark Nothing Page 10

“All right,” she sang as she scooted on her knees, following the wall around until she felt the corner of the lockers.

  “Gotta get this party started. Oh, yeah.”

  The monsters continued their hideous chorus, and she smelled their fetid breath each time one came near.

  “Gonna party all night.”

  She opened her eyes.

  “Gonna party just right.”

  She blinked as the fog pulsated around her. There, to her right, was the purple door. Tears of happiness momentarily replaced her tears of fear. She got to her feet and ran.

  Quinn tore through the wall of fog. Eyes closed, she grabbed for the handle and pulled hard. A force greater than her own held it shut. She yanked until she thought her arms would rip apart. Then she tried pushing, ramming her shoulder against the metal in desperation. Buzzing around her head, the demons laughed as she kicked and screamed at the unmovable door. Another solid click, and it finally gave way, momentum crashing it against the outside wall and bouncing it back, clipping her shoulder as she bolted through it. The dissonant choir stopped.

  A wave of cool air enveloped her. She pulled in a deep breath to clear her lungs of the rancid, sulfurous air. Her heart pounded in her ears. She didn’t want to open her eyes, afraid of what she might—or might not—see, afraid the demons might be playing with her, so she kept them closed. They were silent, but that didn’t mean they were gone.

  Hands splayed in front of her, she moved until the concrete blocks brushed against her fingers. Exhausted, she leaned her back against it, and sank to the floor. She listened for any movement, voices, anything, but all she heard was the frantic beating of her own heart. Nothing touched her, the hall smelled of dust and sweat, completely normal. Quinn sobbed hysterically, wiping at the river that poured down her cheeks. The salt stung the scratches on her hand where the beasts had clawed her. She examined her palm—a piece of glass had lodged in her skin. Scratches from the shards of broken mirror she’d been crawling over. Nothing more. Either she was crazy and they weren’t real, or she wasn’t and they were. She wasn’t sure which was worse.

  ***

  Aaron sprinted to the double doors that led to the locker rooms and shoved them open with an eerie, hollow squeak. Sunlight from the lobby cut through the gray gloom of the hallway, illuminating Quinn in a halo of gold. She sat against the wall, head resting on the arms around her knees, muffling her quiet, erratic sobs.

  The heavy, metal door slammed shut, shrouding the hallway in dusk. He winced as its echo reverberated off the concrete walls, traveling down the corridor and into oblivion. Quinn flinched, but didn’t look up. She looked as if she’d been in a fight. Red, angry scratches adorned her skin, her disheveled hair escaped the clips that held it from her face, and her legs were streaked with dirt. Had Jeff done this to her? Kerstin? Aaron swallowed his anger. She’d probably clam up if he interrogated now. If she wanted to talk about it, she would; he shouldn’t force it.

  He tried not to make noise as he slid down the wall. The fluorescent lights cast their otherworldly, green tint on her silky hair. A few inches separated them. He breathed in the intoxicating strawberry scent that surrounded her and listened to her sob, waiting for her to break the silence.

  She grabbed his hand and squeezed so tight he thought his bones would break. “Aaron?” she asked, her voice laced with uncertainty.

  “Yeah. It’s me. No one else.” She flinched as he moved a strand of loose hair behind her ear. “What happened?”

  Quinn snatched her hand away and tucked it under her arm before he could get a psychic reading on her real emotions.

  “Have you ever felt like you were going crazy?” Quinn stared out into nothingness, her tear-stained face transfixed on whatever puzzle troubled her mind.

  Aaron stared at his hands. He thought of the first time he’d touched Josh after the accident, the secret blame buried in Josh’s mind—that it had been Aaron’s fault. Then came the onslaught of emotions and thoughts from every nurse, ever doctor, every person he came in contact with. Images he didn’t want to see, knowledge he shouldn’t have as he violated their privacy. It had taken suicide to wake him up, to help him see it didn’t have to be a curse. He could learn control, and it could help him remember who he had been. Now he could sneak in and out of the minds of others without them even knowing. “Yeah.” He finally answered. She nodded but didn’t add an explanation.

  Aaron bit his tongue to keep the millions of questions dancing in his mind from spilling across his lips. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

  She nodded then quickly changed it into a shake.

  “Did someone hurt you?” Aaron said patiently.

  A nod, and then another shake.

  “Which is it, Quinn?” Aaron couldn’t stop himself. “Where did the scratches and bruises come from? Did Jeff do this to you? Kerstin? Tell me, and I’ll make sure they don’t hurt you again.” Anger welled inside him—red, hot, unflinching—and he balled his hands into fists.

  Quinn shook her head. “Jeff would never hurt me.”

  “Really?” Aaron winced at his own sarcastic tone. After everything she still defended Jeff. Where was Jeff when she needed him? Kissing Kerstin, that’s where. He took a deep breath and willed himself to calm down. “Sorry. It’s just, look at you.”

  Quinn sighed and stared at her feet. “It wasn’t anything sinister. I promise.” She twisted the fabric of her cheerleading skirt in one hand. “I slipped on a puddle of water and fell against the sink. The force must have knocked the mirror from the wall. It shattered and some of the shards scratched me. Freaked me out a little, that’s all.”

  “You seem more than a little freaked out.” Aaron wanted to touch her, to search her mind for the truth, but he wanted her to tell him because she trusted him, not by using his ability.

  “What are you doing here, anyway?” Quinn asked. “Why are you always there when I need someone?” Aaron didn’t know what to say. Telling her the truth, that they had some sort of psychic connection sounded crazy, even to him.

  Aaron memorized Quinn’s profile, her small nose and full, pink, kissable lips. The last thing he wanted was for her to think he was a freak, to be frightened of him the way Josh and his dad were.

  “Coincidence, I guess,” he lied. “I was looking for the bathroom.”

  “The closest bathroom is at the top of the bleachers. How do you always know when I’m in trouble?” she said, turning to look him right in the eyes.

  Aaron was caught off guard. His tongue felt like stone as he tried to answer, but he couldn’t find the words. He was lost in those soulful eyes.

  He fell, sinking fast though the dark, violet-blue as the connection grabbed hold of him, and he sensed her desire and need for him. Frightened and exhilarated, afraid of losing himself again, he tried to pull back, afraid the connection might work both ways. What if she could see into the darkness of his soul? What if she guessed his secret? He wasn’t ready for that.

  She was all around him now, her emotions pulsing through him like a soft electric current, warm, excited, making him forget all about finding the truth about what happened in the locker room. All he wanted was to run his fingers through her hair and press his lips against hers. Quinn’s heart pounded, and his sped to match hers, beat for beat. She wanted him to kiss her. He felt the longing emanating off her like a magnetic pulse. He tried once more to focus and break the connection before he gave in, but their minds were too tightly joined. She reached for him, and he responded, pulling her closer. The touch released a fire bolt though him that erased every reason he could think of to stay away from her. As their lips collided, so did their souls, and the world between them melted away.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  One minute Quinn had been gazing, searching through Aaron’s two pools of golden-green as something brushed against her thoughts, a soft kiss in her mind. It made her hungry for the real thing, and she leaned closer, inhaling the very essence of him, the ocean breeze, pine
, and a hint of sunshine. Intoxicated by a burning brightness in the windows of his soul, she wanted to drown herself in his light, in his lips. The next thing she knew, her hands were in his hair, his hands were on her waist, her lips pressed against his, and it felt so good, so right.

  “Quinn?”

  She pulled away from Aaron, panting. Dazed and confused, she turned an angry glare toward the voice that dared interrupt a perfect moment.

  Jeff loomed over them, shooting Aaron a look that could kill. The sight of him brought her back to earth, and she jumped to her feet and straightened her top.

  “Coach White sent me to look for you.” Jeff took in her slight mussed hair, bruised knees, and scratched hands. “What the hell?” He glared at Aaron again before turning back to Quinn. “Are you okay?” He brushed a blond strand from her cheek and encircled her in familiar arms, hugging her tight.

  Quinn stiffened. She didn’t know what to do. A day, even an hour ago this is exactly where she would have wanted to be. But now?

  He cupped her chin, lifting it until her eyes found his. Genuine concern etched in the furrow of his brow. “I was worried about you.”

  He still cared. She closed her eyes, relaxing into his hug, and she could almost pretend the last painful two months never happened. Like they never broke up.

  “I’m fine. Aaron and I were … ”

  “Talking,” Aaron said.

  “Yes, talking. That’s all,” Quinn said.

  Awkward silence bore down on the three of them. She couldn’t bear to look at Aaron, to see the hurt on his face. But she couldn’t look at Jeff, either. Part of her heart still clung to the possibility of getting back together with Jeff. The other part pined for Aaron, his touch, the electricity between them. The tug-of-war confused and exhausted her, and she buried her head into Jeff’s arms to avoid both their gazes.

  Jeff stroked her back and whispered in her ear, “The pep rally is almost over. Coach White’s on the rampage. You better not go anywhere; she wants to talk to you.” He kissed her cheek, letting it linger a little too long, glared at Aaron, and then went back into the gym.

  “I better get back before I get detention.” Aaron clenched his jaw and turned on his heel. “Good luck with Coach White,” he called over his shoulder, his tone an arctic chill to her heart.

  “Wait!” Quinn ran the few feet to catch up with him. “Thanks.” She wanted to hug him, but his arms were folded across his chest. “I mean it.” She wasn’t sure what she wanted from him.

  Aaron shrugged. “Sure.” His curt tone stung as he slammed the door behind him.

  Quinn leaned against the wall and waited for the pep rally to end and Coach White’s lecture to begin. The second hand on the hall clock dragged: tick tick, a monotone metronome. If the fog reappeared, she could dart into the gym without hesitation, even if it meant certain embarrassment. If the fog was even real in the first place. She didn’t know what to think anymore.

  Her skin still tingled, the revenant of Aaron’s touch—or Jeff’s? She tasted salt as a tear dripped onto her lips. She pursed them, wondering if she would ever feel Jeff’s lips on hers again—or Aaron’s. She wiped her eyes with a sleeve, blinking back tears. Everything in her life was spinning out of control, and she didn’t know who to turn to. She no longer trusted her own emotions, judgment, or sanity. And if she couldn’t trust herself, how could she trust anyone else?

  She startled as the gym doors squeaked open. Kerstin and Spring headed the pack, grinning like deranged hyenas.

  “Changing the middle basket toss to a Kewpie was brilliant. Let’s keep the routine like that. You’re much better at choreography than Quinn,” Spring said.

  “Thanks, Spring, that’s a great idea. And your dismount was perfect.”

  Jeff, silent, walked alongside Kerstin like a dog on a leash. When they reached the locker room doors, Kerstin put her arm around his waist and kissed him.

  “I’ll see you at the game, baby. Love you,” she said loud enough for the whole universe to hear.

  “Yeah.” Jeff glanced at Quinn, gave Kerstin a peck on the cheek, and then followed the others into the locker room.

  With Jeff gone, Kerstin turned her attention to Quinn. “Where you been, loser?” She smirked and elbowed Spring as she took in the sight of Quinn’s disheveled hair and bruised legs. “Oh. My. God. Looks like someone’s spent the last hour on their knees.” She doubled over with laughter. “Who’s the lucky guy? Hope he paid you well for your services.” She opened the locker room door and pushed Spring inside. “Later, freak.”

  Quinn licked her fingertips and frantically rubbed at the dirty streaks covering her pale skin. Of course she looked like a freak; she’d had a major freak out in the locker room.

  “Are you okay?” Teresa pulled Quinn into a corner. “What happened? I thought you were right behind me.”

  No. I’m not okay. I’m scared, Reese. I think I’m crazy. Do you think demons are real? Of course you sound crazy, Quinn.

  “Earth to Quinn. What the hell happened? I mean, look at you.”

  “I went to pee, and when I came out of the stall, I slipped and fell on a puddle of water or something. I knocked the mirror off the wall. It came crashing down, and I freaked out a little.”

  “God, Quinn. Are you hurt?”

  “No. Well, a little bruised, but I’m fine, really.” Quinn looked away and crossed her arms.

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  “You know what.” Reese tapped her foot.

  “And I ran into Aaron, all right?” Quinn shrugged.

  Reese looked amused. “Ran into his lips more like it.”

  “I never said that.” Quinn smoothed her hair back into place.

  “You didn’t have to. Your smeared lipstick said it for you.”

  “Crap.” Quinn wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

  “I know I told you to use Aaron to get over Jeff, but making out with him during the pep rally? Bad idea. Kerstin made a big deal about you not being a team player. Coach White’s on the warpath.” Reese ran a hand through her hair and cocked her head. “Was it worth it? At least tell me his lips were so hot they could melt ice.”

  Coach White shoved open the double doors, and Quinn cringed. She’d never seen her so angry and dreaded what would come next.

  “Ms. Taylor, my office, now.” She didn’t even look at Quinn. “Ms. Moon, the locker room, pronto.”

  ***

  Mrs. White’s cramped office smelled like sweat and stale coffee. Pictures of previous Westland High cheerleading squads hung in black frames on one side of the beige walls. On the other side were pictures of the girls’ basketball teams. The gray-framed desk stood stark except for an empty jar of peanut butter and a can of diet soda.

  “Have a seat, Quinn.” She pointed to a faded, red vinyl chair—a startling splash of color in the otherwise bland room.

  Quinn sat. The vinyl squeaked beneath her bare legs.

  “What happened?” Coach White leaned back in the chair.

  “I—” Quinn started, her mind racing, searching for an answer that would sound more truthful than the truth.

  “You missed the entire pep rally,” Coach White said.

  “Yes, and—”

  “First, your grades, now skipping out on your team. I picked you as head cheerleader because I thought you were responsible.” Coach White leaned forward in her chair, slamming her hand on the edge of the desk. “Even though you’re on probation, you still have a responsibility to this school and to your teammates. We had a deal. Attend all practices, help me coach, and get your grades up. Are you tired of being a cheerleader?” She stared at Quinn, waiting for an answer.

  “No, ma’am. Cheerleading means everything to me.” Quinn sat up straight and looked Coach White in the eye.

  “You’re not acting like it.” Coach White leaned back in the office chair and studied Quinn. “Actions speak louder than words. I’ve spoken to your teachers. You’re still failing.�
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  “I still have two weeks to bring my grades up.”

  “One week. Grades are out next Friday, or have you forgotten? And from what I’ve seen, that would take a miracle. What am I supposed to do?” Coach White sighed.

  Quinn’s stomach rolled. She shifted in the big red chair, the temperature rising in the stuffy little room as sweat gathered on the back of her legs, the heat fusing her skin with the vinyl.

  “You’re a better captain than Kerstin, but my hands are tied. If you’re still failing when report cards come out next week, and I know for a fact you will be, I’m suspending you for the rest of the semester.”

  “What? You can’t!”

  “Quinn, you’ve given me no other choice. As of today, Kerstin will permanently be captain. I have to have someone reliable in that position. You understand. As of next Friday, you will be suspended, and we’ll reassess at the end of the semester.”

  Quinn had expected a lecture, but suspended? She almost choked on the bitter pill being forced down her throat.

  “I can’t suspend you until I see your report card, so think of this as your last game. You will ride the bus to the game with the rest of us as usual, but you won’t be allowed on the field, you won’t participate in warm ups, and you won’t wear your uniform. That deal is over. I want the squad to get used to Kerstin’s leadership, and I can’t have them divided. You’ll sit in the stands and watch, take mental notes, and help Kerstin with the transition during practice next week. We leave at six o’clock sharp.”

  Of course she’d been suspended. Stupid Quinn, what did she think would happen? Shadow voices lurked in the back of her mind, urging her thoughts into a downward spiral.

  “Failure.”

  “Irresponsible.”

  “Untrustworthy.”

  Their whispers melded with what she feared to be true. She couldn’t argue. They were right: she was a failure. Tears threatened to fall, but she refused to let Coach White see her hurting. Then the whispers dissolved into nothingness, leaving the faintest echo imprinted in her mind. Her insides had been carved away, leaving an empty shell of herself. One more blow, and she would crumble into a pile of dust.