The squad and the guys walked past us. Emily made a point of not looking at me, while Savannah stepped around Lena like she was infected with some kind of airborne virus. I could just imagine what they would tell their mothers when they got home.
I grabbed Lena’s hand. A current ran through my body, but this time, it wasn’t the shock I had felt that night in the rain. It was more like a confusion of the senses. Like being hit by a wave at the beach and climbing under an electric blanket on a rainy night, all at the same time. I let it wash over me.
Savannah noticed and elbowed Emily.
You don’t have to do this.
I squeezed her hand.
Do what?
“Hey, kids. Did you see the guys?” Link tapped me on the shoulder, carrying a monster-size buttered popcorn and a giant blue slush.
The Cineplex was showing some kind of murder mystery, which Amma would have liked, given her penchant for mysteries and dead bodies. Link had gone to sit up front with the guys, scoping the aisles for college girls on his way. Not because he didn’t want to sit with Lena, but because he assumed we wanted to be alone. We did—at least, I did.
“Where do you want to sit? Up close, in the middle?” I waited for her to decide.
“Back here.” I followed her down the aisle of the last row.
Hooking up was the main reason kids from Gatlin went to the Cineplex, considering any movie showing there was already on DVD. But it was the only reason you sat in the last three rows. The Cineplex, the water tower, and in the summer, the lake. Aside from that, there were a few bathrooms and basements, but not many other options. I knew we wouldn’t be doing any hooking up, but even if it was like that between us I wouldn’t have brought her here to do it. Lena wasn’t just some girl you took to the last three rows of the Cineplex. She was more than that.
Still, it was her choice, and I knew why she chose it. You couldn’t get farther away from Emily Asher than the last row.
Maybe I should have warned her. Before the opening credits, people were already starting to go at it.
We both stared at the popcorn, since there was nowhere else safe to look.
Why didn’t you say anything?
I didn’t know.
Liar.
I’ll be a perfect gentleman. Honest.
I pushed it all to the back of my mind, thinking about anything, the weather, basketball, and reached into the popcorn tub. Lena reached in at the same time, and our hands touched for a second, sending a chill up my arm, hot and cold all mixed up together. Pick ’n’ Roll. Picket Fences. Down the Lane.
There were only so many plays in the Jackson basketball playbook. This was going to be harder than I thought.
The movie was terrible. Ten minutes in, I already knew the ending.
“He did it,” I whispered.
“What?”
“That guy. He’s the murderer. I don’t know who he kills, but he did it.” That was the other reason Link didn’t want to sit by me: I always knew the ending at the beginning and I couldn’t keep it to myself. It was my version of doing the crossword. It was the reason I was so good at video games, carnival games, checkers with my dad. I could figure things out, right from the first move.
“How do you know?”
“I just do.”
How does this end?
I knew what she meant. But for the first time, I just didn’t know the answer.
Happy. Very, very happy.
Liar. Now hand over the Milk Duds.
She pushed her hand into the pocket of my sweatshirt, looking for them. Only it was the wrong side, and instead she found the last thing she was expecting. There it was, the little pouch, the hard lump that we both knew was the locket. Lena sat up with a start, pulling it out and holding it up like it was some kind of dead mouse. “Why are you still carrying that around in your pocket?”
“Shh.” We were annoying the people around us, which was funny considering they weren’t even watching the movie.
“I can’t leave it in the house. Amma thinks I buried it.”
“Maybe you should have.”
“It doesn’t matter, the thing has a mind of its own. It almost never works. You’ve seen it every time it has.”
“Can you shut up?” The couple in front of us came up for air. Lena jumped, dropping the locket. We both grabbed for it. I saw the handkerchief falling off, as if it were in slow motion. I could barely see the white square in the dark. The big screen twisted into an inconsequential spark of light, and we could already smell the smoke— Burning a house with women in it.
It couldn’t be true. Mamma. Evangeline. Genevieve’s mind was racing. Maybe it wasn’t too late. She broke into a run, ignoring the ragged claws of the bushes urging her to go back and Ethan and Ivy’s voices calling after her. The bushes opened up, and there were two Federals in front of what was left of the house Genevieve’s grandfather had built. Two Federals pouring a tray full of silver into a government-issue rucksack. Genevieve was a rush of black billowing fabric catching the gusts kicked up by the fire.
“What the—”