The Wrong Path

Chapter Fifteen





“Let’s go on this one!” Claire cried loudly, looking up at the Topsy-Turvy.

Annabelle echoed the squeals of excitement around her, dashing with the others to get in line for the ride. Claire looped her arm through Annabelle’s as they waited impatiently at the gate, Claire’s cold eyes triumphant.

“This looks like so much fun!” Annabelle declared, her voice sounding light and hollow in her own ears. She briefly entertained the idea the others would notice, then realized they wouldn’t—it sounded just like her to them.

Claire grinned. “After this, we should check out the haunted house,” she suggested, but there was no question in her voice.

“Oh, definitely!” Annabelle gushed. “I love those!” Actually, she hated haunted houses with a passion, because they usually scared her, but Claire just laughed and nodded enthusiastically. The attendant opened the gate and Claire darted in, finally releasing Annabelle’s arm. Annabelle relaxed, feeling strangely as if she had been sprung from a trap.

It was a tradition for the group to go to the Parkway Fair every year, and this year was no exception. Actually, Annabelle didn’t know anyone within a fifty mile radius who didn’t make it to the Parkway Fair. It was the biggest event in the state every year, full of rides, good food, live music, shopping, art exhibits, and more. Everyone went to the fair.

Trevor’s hand gripped Annabelle’s as the ride started, lifting them up in the air to the left. They went swinging over the platform to the right, and then back and forth again and again until they were hanging upside down in the air. She screamed right along with the rest of the girls as she clung to the seat, wishing that it would just be over soon so she could go home. Beside her, she could hear Trevor laughing as he squeezed her hand in a comforting gesture. When the ride was over and they were back on stable ground, Trevor wrapped an arm around her and she had to admit she was grateful for the support, feeling unsteady on her feet.

They headed straight for the haunted house, Claire leading the way. Annabelle clung to Trevor’s arm as tightly as she could as they walked in, afraid of getting lost in the crowd.

Dark lights surrounded them as they went through, and things popped out at them occasionally, but it wasn’t half as terrifying as she had expected. She relaxed her grip on Trevor’s arm, relieved. Still, she screamed at all the appropriate places, drawing as much attention to her and her friends as she could, and tried not to think about all the other people who were probably irritated about how obnoxious they were.

Trevor bought her cotton candy, which she happily carried around despite the look on Claire’s face. She loved cotton candy, and she wasn’t going to let Claire take that away from her. She liked it too much.

“Oh my god,” Claudia gasped in delight, coming to a dead stop at the front of the group with Claire. Erin barely missed smacking into her. “It’s a fortune teller!”

Annabelle added her delighted squeals to her friend’s, trying not to roll her eyes. She hated fortune tellers. They were such a waste of money. But she dutifully joined the others in line at the purple tent, covered with cheesy moons and stars. Claire went in first, and she came out snickering. Next was Zach, and then Claudia, who came out rolling her eyes. Annabelle internalized a sigh as she ducked under the golden tassels hanging from the purple cloth covering the door, stepping into the tent.

It was about as cliché as she expected, complete with an old gypsy-looking woman sitting in the center of the circular tent at a dark blue, velvet-covered table. Weird knickknacks that looked like they were from a joke shop surrounded her, hanging on the walls and up on pedestals. She was holding a deck of cards and eyeing Annabelle so seriously that she laughed nervously.

“Have a seat,” the woman told her, nodding at the wooden chair across from her.

Annabelle slowly sat down.

“Is there a question you would like to know the answer to?” the woman asked. “Or would you just like a general reading?”

On the very slim chance that this stuff could work, she didn’t want to know the answer to anything. She was afraid of what she would hear. “Just a general reading,” she requested, smiling hesitantly.

The woman studied her for a moment longer, then shuffled the cards. She held the stack out for Annabelle. “Cut them into three piles. They don’t have to be even. Just wherever you feel they should be cut.”

Okay. This was weird. Annabelle felt along the deck, and though she knew it was just in her mind, she did feel like there were certain places that she should cut the deck. She split the cards into three piles and leaned back, looking up at the woman.

“Tap the piles in the order you feel most appropriate,” the woman told her. “One, two, three.”

This was really, really weird. Still, she felt a pull toward the far left deck, then the right, and finally the middle.

Almost instantly the woman gathered the piles in that order, placing the middle deck in her palm, the right on top of it, and then the left on the very top of the pile. She flipped the cards into two large fans on the table, until all the cards were out of her hands. Then she leaned forward and studied them. After a moment, she frowned and looked up at Annabelle.

“You’re not going down the right path,” the woman told her bluntly. Stunned, Annabelle stared at her with wide, disbelieving eyes. “The pain in your eyes will continue if you don’t figure out where to turn.” She tapped a few of the cards, walking her fingers down them. “You do know, though. You just don’t want to allow yourself to do it.” She looked up at Annabelle curiously. “You’re afraid of being alone, but you’re not alone. You just won’t accept it.”

Annabelle gaped at her, then stood and hastily drew a twenty out of her pocket. “Look, lady… Some people are really susceptible to stuff like this. You shouldn’t go around throwing out crap like this. You could seriously damage someone’s life.”

As she tossed the twenty on the table, the woman’s hand grasped her wrist. Annabelle gasped and looked down at her, terror running through her veins. She had a vaguely hysterical mental image of a crazy old lady in a gypsy outfit running down the walkway yelling at her. “That’s it,” the woman insisted, her voice low and strong. “That’s the strength that burns inside of you. Use it. There’s nothing to fear. You have others waiting to hold you up.”

A hundred emotions went through her. But before she could formulate any questions, the woman sat back and released her wrist, nodding her toward the door. “You may not believe,” she said, “but the advice is still true.”

Annabelle backed out of tent as quickly as she could.

When her friends saw her, they burst out laughing. “You okay?” Trevor asked, laughing as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “You look like you saw a ghost!”

She forced a weak smile. “I’m fine,” she assured them. “Just a crazy old lady.” Still, she couldn’t resist looking back at the tent, trying to control her shaking.

Apparently no one else had gotten the type of fortune Annabelle had, because they all came out rolling their eyes and laughing. They finished out the day riding on rides and taking pictures, and then they parted, Annabelle hopping into Trevor’s passenger seat as he slid into the driver’s seat.

“Did you have fun?” he asked, looking over at her with a grin as they drove.

She forced herself to smile. “Yeah. Thanks for taking me. Did you?”

“Of course. I was with you.” She smiled weakly and gazed out the front window, suddenly uncomfortable. There was a moment of silence, and then Trevor went on. “Annabelle… I want to tell you something.”

She knew enough about relationships to know that was an ominous sentence. Her heart beat quickened as she looked back at him. “Yes?”

He shifted uncomfortably, keeping his eyes fastened on the road. “Lately… I’ve been thinking we were headed for a breakup. You just… You haven’t been yourself recently.” He looked over at her quickly, his next words rushed. “But I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. I know it wasn’t like you. Today showed that. You’re totally back to normal. And I just wanted to say how glad I am you’re my girlfriend.”

She mechanically turned away from him and stared out the front window, unable to grasp onto all of the thoughts flying around in her head. At a time when she had felt the most like herself—the happiest she had ever really been—Trevor had thought she wasn’t herself? Trevor thought she was back to normal today?

Trevor had wanted to break up with her?

And then, from somewhere in the recesses of her mind, she thought, I wish he had.

Even as she tried to push the thoughts away, the memories of her time with Will suddenly surged up around her. ATV’ing. Riding in his car with the top down. Will holding her as she cried. Will climbing in her window late at night. Saving her at the party that weekend so long ago.

Her real self?

What did Trevor know about her real self?

“Stop the car,” she whispered.

“What?” Trevor asked, leaning toward her.

She turned toward him, feeling hot anger and betrayal built up inside of her, ready to burst forth. “St—“ she started.

“Hang on, Annabelle, just a sec,” he said, sounding flustered as he dug into the pocket of his jeans. She watched as he emerged with a ringing cell phone, something she hadn’t even heard through the blood rushing in her ears. He glanced at the number, looked startled, and said, “Hello?”

Annabelle’s fury faded instantly as Trevor’s foot lifted off the gas. He paled, his eyes taking on a glassy appearance. For a moment, she worried he might crash the car. “What?” she heard him ask hoarsely. “Where?” Annabelle felt her heart catch in her throat. “I’ll be right there.”

Trevor tossed the phone onto the SUV’s console, gripping the wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white. “My mom,” he said quietly. “She collapsed. She’s in the hospital. Can your parents come pick you up there?”

She felt tears form in her eyes. “Yes,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry, Trevor.”

He said nothing, but he drove almost twenty miles over the speed limit. He seemed to know the way to the hospital from memory, which she guessed wasn’t really surprising since he had been there with his mother so many times.

God… Mrs. Scarlett… It couldn’t be.

Annabelle closed her eyes, clasping her hands in her lap, and prayed for her to be okay.

She followed Trevor into the hospital, almost running to keep up with his rapid pace. He went straight down corridor after corridor, until they finally arrived in a waiting room lined with chairs. Magazines littered the tables, and against a wall, a television was on the news station. Trevor looked around, then walked up to the woman behind the desk, leaving Annabelle there by herself.

She looked around herself for Will, but he was nowhere to be seen in the nearly deserted room. Slowly, she joined Trevor’s side, just as the nurse at the desk was saying, “…talking to the doctors now.”

Trevor’s shoulders slumped. Annabelle lightly touched his arm as he thanked the woman, then moved to sit in one of the chairs in the middle of the room. He leaned forward, burying his head in his hands.

“Dad’s talking to Mom’s doctor,” Trevor said, his voice muffled. “She said Will was here but she hasn’t seen him for a while.”

Annabelle squeezed his arm. “Why don’t you call him?” she suggested quietly.

Trevor sat up, his expression cold. “Why? He obviously doesn’t care enough about Mom to wait around to hear how she is. Why should I care where he is? It’s his fault she’s here anyway.”

Annabelle felt her hands clench into fists. “I’ll go get you some coffee,” she told him, trying to keep her voice even. If he heard her, he didn’t acknowledge it. She watched as he slumped back down in his chair, his head in his hands.

She stood and walked down the hallway, rounding the corner before pausing to lean back against it and catch her breath. She knew Trevor was just upset about his mother and lashing out, but he didn’t know the first thing about his younger brother. He didn’t even try to understand him. He just attacked him without waiting for an explanation.

Just like Annabelle had done.

She felt tears spring to her eyes. She slid down against the wall, her knees curling up to her chest. She didn’t have Will’s number to call him and find out if he was okay. She didn’t have a car to go looking for him. She had nothing. Nothing that she could offer him.

He probably wouldn’t even want to see her. Trevor had already made it pretty clear she should just go home, and she was dating him. Seeing her would probably be the last thing Will would want, especially after their fight. Especially after the way she had treated him.

“Ma’am?”

She looked up to see a young, pretty nurse standing in front of her, a tender, concerned look on her face. “Are you okay?” the nurse asked gently, crouching down to her level.

Annabelle nodded, wiping the tears away from her cheeks. “Sorry,” she apologized, her voice thick with tears.

“It’s okay. Can I call your parents for you?”

She shook her head. “I’m okay. Thank you.”

The nurse hesitated, but she nodded slowly and stood, walking away. Annabelle sighed and drew herself to her feet, trying to calm her tears. Crying wouldn’t do Trevor any good, and despite how he was acting at the moment, he needed someone to be strong.

There was a sign indicating the cafeteria was down the left hallway, so she headed in that direction. She passed by dozens of nurses and doctors and crying people that made her want to cry in sympathy, and she knew without a doubt she could never, ever work in a hospital.

She paused as she caught sight of two double doors under a sign that read, “Chapel,” in big block letters. The cafeteria was just a few doors down, but stopping in for a minute to say a quick prayer couldn’t hurt.

She listened at the door to make sure there wasn’t a service going on, then pulled the door open. There were about eight people scattered throughout the dimly lit room. It was smaller than she expected a hospital chapel to be, barely squeezing ten pews in the entire room. There were candles lit on either side of the empty altar, and against the far right wall, a cluster of votive candle holders, most of which were lit.

She started toward the candles to light one for Mrs. Scarlett, pausing as she started to walk by the boy in the back corner. He was around her age, with long dark brown hair that covered his bowed face. His shoulders were slumped, his hands clasped in front of him in his lap. He was immobile; as still as a statue.

Her heart leapt into her throat, astonished.

Will.

All of her worries at seeing him—at him not wanting to see her—vanished as she stared at him. This was Will. No matter what they said to each other, he would always be there for her. And she would always be there for him.

Slowly, afraid of startling him and disturbing the peace in the room, she walked over behind him and gently placed her hand on his shoulder. She watched as his head lifted up to look at her. His dark eyes were dulled, the pain in them bringing tears to her eyes. His hand came up and held onto hers, and without letting go, she moved around the pew to sit beside him, their fingers interlacing as she rested her head against his shoulder.

She didn’t know how long they sat there, but at some point people came and left until it was just the two of them alone in the small chapel.

“Is it bad?” she asked softly.

He was silent for a moment. “Yeah,” he answered quietly. “It’s bad.”

She didn’t want to make him talk about something that hurt him, but she still needed to ask. “What happened?”

His voice was far away, as though he were watching it unfold before his eyes. “We were eating dinner. She got really pale and started complaining that she didn’t feel well. And then she just… collapsed. The doctor’s say she doesn’t have much time.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Shouldn’t you be with her?” she asked.

“I asked her what she wanted me to do. She said pray. So here I am.”

Tears slid down her cheeks. She squeezed his hand. “You should go see her, Will.”

He shook his head. “You should. I’m sure she’d be happy to see you. And you should go be with Trev—“

“I’m not leaving you.”

The words came out automatically, decisive and final. She knew she should feel bad, or at least feel surprised, but she didn’t. She just wanted to be with Will. And, when a tenseness in his shoulders relaxed and he slumped against the back of the pew, squeezing her hand in response, she knew he was as relieved to hear the words as she was to say them.

There was a vibration between them. Will gave a start, yanking the cell phone out of his pocket. “Dad?” he asked, his voice catching in his throat. His listened for a moment. Annabelle’s heart pounded in her chest as she waited for him to give any indication as to what he was being told. She watched in confusion as he wordlessly ended the call and stared at the phone, his face expressionless.

Then he stood.

“I’ll take you home,” he said quietly.

She let out a sob, glad she was still sitting. It took her several seconds to force her legs to support her weight, as if all the strength had been sucked from her body. Only after she reminded herself that Will needed her to be strong for him—not for him to have to be strong for her—was she able to force herself to stand up and follow him out of the chapel.

They were silent as he drove, except for her occasional sniffle. She was probably cruel not to tell Trevor she had left, but she couldn’t bring herself to call him. She didn’t care if it made her a terrible person or if everyone she knew hated her for it. She wanted to be with Will, and right now, Will needed her.

They climbed out of the car slowly. Annabelle looked up at her empty driveway, then at Will, who stood beside her on the sidewalk with a dull, empty expression on his face, waiting for her to go up to her house.

“Come in,” she requested softly, taking his hand and gently pulling him toward the house.

He looked like he might say no, but he just went, following her up to the house. She unlocked the door and led him up to her room, where together, as though it were the most natural thing in the world, they curled up on her bed, wrapped in each other’s arms.