Skylar’s skin crawled where Meg touched, and she jerked away. “Shouldn’t we . . . call the police?” Skylar choked out, trying to keep her eyes on Meg but finding them pulled toward the dead body.
“Why don’t you do it when we get home?” Meg said, shepherding Skylar to a path on the other side of the pond. “There isn’t any cell service around here. Come on,” she repeated. “We’ll drive you.”
They walked a short distance in silence until they reached the Lincoln. Skylar’s mind was spinning with questions, but each time she took a breath and opened her mouth—Who was he? What happened to him? Why were you just . . . standing there, as though you’d been looking for me, or for him?—she found herself too shocked and revolted to speak. Her nose was running; her eyes burned. More even than the sight of the body, she couldn’t forget its feeling. How her boot had felt against human flesh and bone. She tried to stay focused. One foot in front of the other.
“I don’t need a ride,” she reminded them when they reached the car. “Like you guys saw, I already have my aunt’s bike.” Truth was, she really didn’t want to get in the car with the girls. They were freaking her out.
“Don’t be silly,” Meg said, all sugary sweet. “You’re in shock. We’ll come back for your bike tomorrow.”
Skylar didn’t feel like she could argue back. She relented. Still, once all four of them were in the car, with Ali at the wheel, Ty in the front, and Meg and Skylar in the backseat, she tried again to speak. How did you know I was in the woods? she wanted to say. But just as she was about to voice a question, Ty turned around. Even with her dark hair and pale skin, she seemed to glow.
“Oh, here,” she said, bringing her hand over the divider between the front and back seats. Clutched in her slender fingers was the orchid. The bloodred flower that had drawn Skylar to the edge of the pond.
Skylar drew back as though it was on fire. “Why—why are you giving me that?” She caught Ali’s eyes in the rearview mirror; her mouth, as usual, was painted into a perfect bloodred grin.
She looked at Meg uncertainly, hoping to find some reassurance, and some answers. Instead, she saw only the tilted birdlike look that was becoming Meg’s trademark.
Ty leaned over and used the flower petals to tap Skylar’s knee. It was the lightest of touches, but it felt like a slice from a knife. “You dropped it in the woods!” Ty said, pouting. “I thought you wanted it!”
“I don’t want it,” Skylar insisted.
They were getting closer to Aunt Nora’s house. Thank god. Skylar couldn’t wait to get out of the car. How could the girls be acting so casual? They’d just found a dead body, for god’s sake! And what was with that stupid orchid?
Skylar knew nothing about Meg or her cousins. But she still knew that something about them was decidedly off.
Skylar already had her hand on the door handle, ready to leap out of the car, when they pulled up in front of Nora’s house. She thanked them hurriedly and moved toward the walkway. As she did Ty rolled down her window.
“à bient?t, escargot,” Ty said with a wave.
A sheet of cold blew through Skylar’s body. In her whole life, she had heard only one person use that expression before: Em Winters.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Ohmygod. JD wanted to talk. To her. To Em. To his lovelorn former best friend, who he had been shunning for months. On Thursday afternoon he texted: We should meet. Em’s heart nearly exploded.
That’s all it took, she thought wryly. Boy sees girl attempting sacrifice in graveyard, boy falls back in love. Why didn’t I think of that before?
So around eight o’clock on Thursday night, after a strained dinner with her parents, Em threw her hair into a messy bun, put her Sorel boots over her sweatpants, and marched over to the Founts’ front door.
One thing was clear: If she wanted to save her relationship with JD, it was time to talk. She might not be able to tell him the whole truth, but Em was determined to make him understand . . . something. Whether it took burying the past or explaining part of the present or fibbing around the truth, Em was going to make amends.
She knocked. As soon as she did, though, she lost some of her certainty. The last time she’d stood here, she’d been screaming at Drea. And the last time she’d seen JD, she’d been practicing witchcraft in a cemetery. But he hadn’t said anything to anyone, at least as far as Em knew, and now he was reaching out to her. He was still on her side.
She heard JD yell, “I’ll get it!” from inside, and his voice gave her a surge of renewed hopefulness, enough to make her crack a small smile.
She was still wearing the stupid grin when he opened the door; the sight of him in his slightly baggy jeans, white T-shirt, and favorite ratty cardigan—the one with the holes in both elbows and the coffee stain on the right cuff—was enough to make her smile even more broadly. His eyes were the color of autumn. She’d nearly forgotten how absolutely adorable he was.