Em threw her a small smile. “I think part of me has always known,” she said. “Way down somewhere. But . . . I also think I lost my chance. I don’t think he trusts me anymore. We kind of . . . we had a falling-out. And now he’s more into fixing cars than hanging out with me.”
“I can’t believe you haven’t told me about this,” Gabby said. Em was relieved that Gabby sounded more exasperated than angry. Gabby swung her legs over the side of the bed, and in typical Gabby fashion, barked an order. “Come here, then. Is he going to be at the party tonight? If you want to make up with JD, you have to do something with your hair.”
Em smiled sheepishly. “I was late for school this morning. I didn’t have a chance . . .” She wondered if JD would be there tonight, and if so, whether the woods would be a good place to corner him and at least talk—about something, anything. Find some neutral territory. Some way to start things over between them. If she couldn’t explain herself to him, explain what had happened that night at the Behemoth, well, at least she could apologize. Try to make him remember their chemistry. All the fun they used to have. Maybe she could at least get him to crack a small smile again like he had in the driveway the other day. . . .
Gabby grabbed a comb from the dresser and motioned for Em to sit down on the bed. As she started working the knots out of Em’s hair, it dawned on Em that JD really only went to parties with her—when she needed a ride. It was pretty doubtful that he’d make an appearance tonight.
Truth be told, as much as she was dying to talk to him, it was probably safer that things between them were so strained. She was having a hard enough time not telling him all the secrets the Furies had insisted she keep.
“There,” Gabby said with satisfaction after a few moments. “Your hair is so dark these days, Em. It looks good with your coloring. I swear, you could be a Lanc?me model or something.”
Gabby grabbed some eye shadow from the dresser.
“I don’t want—” Em started to protest.
Gabby cut her off. “Don’t argue. I’m going to put some of this on your eyelids. That’s it. You clearly don’t need any other makeup.”
Em felt a rush of gratitude. “Do you think I should wear my hair up or down?” she asked, smiling for what felt like the first time in months as she caught Gabby’s eyes in the mirror.
? ? ?
The bonfire was blazing by the time they got to the Haunted Woods, and between the hot flames and the balmy night, spring fever had definitely struck early. People who had already arrived were running around in jeans and sweaters. Under the shimmering half-moon and against the flickering fire, the partygoers looked like they were moving in leaps and jumps—like characters in a flip book or dancers under a disco ball. The wood smoke was thick and smelled of pine needles. Em saw Skylar at the far side of the fire, struggling with a shiny metal keg. Had she set this up all by herself?
“Want help with that?” Andy Barton and a group of other jocks barreled past them, heading toward Skylar. Em noticed that Pierce was part of the group—he tried to say hi to Gabby, but she was distracted by Fiona and Jenna, who had just arrived with a portable iPod dock.
“Music!” Fiona shouted.
“Did you hear that Lauren is totally coming with Nick?” Jenna huddled into Gabby and Em. “I bet they’re going to hook up again.”
Gabby shrieked and Em smiled. The saga of Lauren and Nick was reaching legendary proportions.
“Let’s go get something to drink,” Gabby said. “There’s spiked cider and beer. I think Skylar was planning on getting some mulled wine, too.”
“Get me whatever, okay? I’ll keep watch for Lauren,” Em said, not quite ready to enter the group. There was raucous laughter coming from a group of sophomore and junior boys by the kegs.
“Remember freshman year? The Haunted Woods party? When Zach and Chase were doing keg stands?” Gabby laughed and Em realized, with a start, that she and Gabby had barely said Zach’s name out loud since . . . the incident. She reached out and squeezed Gabby’s hand.
“I remember. That was fun.” She found herself, strangely, missing Chase—his party antics and his shameless flirting and his brusque chivalry. How many times had he refilled her drink?
“Okay, brb!”
As Gabby leaped off toward the drinks, Em stood back and observed the scene. She tried to imagine this as the setting for a fire that killed three presumed witches. Turning them into ghosts . . . or into Furies? These woods, with their darkly majestic pines and cacophony of foreboding creaks and hisses, made the supernatural seem closer than ever.
But so far tonight there were no signs of ghosts, just lots of drunk Ascension students. A bunch of seniors had commandeered some logs by the fire; they were sitting, roasting marshmallows and passing around a flask of whiskey. One of them, a band guy Em thought Crow might have been friends with before he dropped out, had a guitar with him. Several sophomore girls stood in a cluster nearby, singing a song they wanted him to play.