Desires of the Dead
Page 42
She sipped her tea; it was perfect, hot and sweet. Just the jolt of caffeine Violet needed to ward away the exhaustion for a bit longer.
“So are you and Jay coming to the cabin?” Chelsea asked.
The question was unexpected, and from so far out of left field that Violet thought she’d finally succumbed to the lack of sleep. “What are you talking about, Chels?”
“Oh yeah, that’s right, you took off during lunch today. Hey, where’d you go, anyway?”
Violet wasn’t about to tell Chelsea that she’d been chasing invisible lights through the school. “I had to take care of something before class started. So, what cabin?”
Chelsea didn’t question Violet’s nonexplanation; instead she answered, “Mike’s family has a hunting cabin up in the mountains. Some of us were thinking of taking an overnight trip up there in a couple of weeks to play in the snow and hang out. You know, snuggle up by the fire and all that good stuff.” Chelsea’s eyes glittered enthusiastically.
Violet hated to let her down. “I really doubt my parents are going to let me stay the night in a remote cabin with a bunch of boys.”
“Oh, please, Snow White, Mike’s dad’ll be there. He’s actually kinda funny . . . you know, in a weird dad kind of way. Don’t worry, your purity will remain intact. Scout’s honor.” She made some sort of gesture with her fingers that Violet assumed was supposed to be an oath, but since Chelsea had never actually been a Girl Scout, it ended up looking more like a peace sign. Or something. Violet maintained her dubious expression.
But Chelsea wasn’t about to be discouraged, and she tried to be the voice of reason. “Come on, I think Jay’s checking to see if he can get the time off work. The least you can do is ask your parents. If they say no, then no harm, no foul, right? If they say yes, then we’ll have a kick-ass time. We’ll go hiking in the snow and hang out in front of the fireplace in the evening. We’ll sleep in sleeping bags and maybe even roast some marshmallows. It’ll be like we’re camping.” She beamed a superfake smile at Violet and clasped her hands together like she was begging. “Do it for me. Ple-eease.”
Jules came back with their milk shake. It was strawberry, and Chelsea flashed Violet an I-told-you-so grin.
Violet finished her tea, mulling over the idea of spending the weekend in a snowy cabin with Jay and Chelsea. Away from town. Away from whoever was leaving her dead animals and creepy notes.
It did sound fun, and Violet did love the snow. And the woods. And Jay.
She could at least ask.
Like Chelsea said, No harm, no foul.
Chapter 18
The exhaustion had finally caught up with her, and that night Violet slept like the dead. For the first time in weeks, she felt completely and totally rested. And by morning, she felt sane again. Clear.
It was a great feeling.
She got up early. Well, maybe not early, but not late either, and in time to actually eat something before she had to leave for school. Not bad.
In the rush of the morning, she easily ignored the first hang-up call she received, chalking it up to mistaken dialing. The call log had simply read: Unknown Caller.
She shoved her cell phone into the pocket of her hoodie, and crammed her math book, and the homework assignment she’d been working on over her bowl of cereal, into her backpack.
Inside her jacket, she felt the phone vibrating. She pulled it out to check it.
Unknown Caller again.
“Hello?” She glanced out the window to make sure Jay wasn’t there to pick her up yet.
There was a moment in which she thought that the person on the other end might say something, a long, empty pause, but nothing happened. Finally, Violet pulled the phone away from her ear.
The call had ended.
She tucked it away for a second time. Jay would be there any minute.
Violet cleaned up her mess at the table and rinsed her bowl in the sink. She was listening for the sounds of his car when she felt the vibrations in her pocket. Again.
Now she was getting annoyed. She dried her hands on a towel and pulled the phone back out. It was the same thing: Unknown Caller.
“What?” she answered irritably.
On the other end, there was silence.
She sighed softly. “Hello?” she tried again, this time trying not to sound so sharp. She checked the phone to make sure the call was still connected. It was.
Nothing.
“Is anyone there?”
And then, something. What was it? A breath? A whisper? Violet heard something from the other end.
“Hello? Who is this?” she asked expectantly, hopefully.
She waited for a moment and then checked the phone. The call was gone, disconnected.
She chewed her lip as she stared at the screen on her cell phone, waiting for it to buzz again. She wondered who it could have been and reassessed her initial assumption that it had been a wrong number . . . who would call and then hang up when she answered three separate times? She could think of only one person.
She looked down at her backpack, lying on the floor by the kitchen table. Inside there was a pretty pink note with a disturbing message written in scrawling purple script.
She heard Jay’s car outside in the driveway just as the phone in her pocket vibrated once more. She hesitated, taking the phone out and staring at it. She thought about answering it, about telling whoever was on the other end to go screw themselves and to stop harassing her, but she doubted it would do any good. So she took another approach.
She picked up her backpack, and on her way to the front door scrolled down and hit Ignore on her phone.
“So are you and Jay coming to the cabin?” Chelsea asked.
The question was unexpected, and from so far out of left field that Violet thought she’d finally succumbed to the lack of sleep. “What are you talking about, Chels?”
“Oh yeah, that’s right, you took off during lunch today. Hey, where’d you go, anyway?”
Violet wasn’t about to tell Chelsea that she’d been chasing invisible lights through the school. “I had to take care of something before class started. So, what cabin?”
Chelsea didn’t question Violet’s nonexplanation; instead she answered, “Mike’s family has a hunting cabin up in the mountains. Some of us were thinking of taking an overnight trip up there in a couple of weeks to play in the snow and hang out. You know, snuggle up by the fire and all that good stuff.” Chelsea’s eyes glittered enthusiastically.
Violet hated to let her down. “I really doubt my parents are going to let me stay the night in a remote cabin with a bunch of boys.”
“Oh, please, Snow White, Mike’s dad’ll be there. He’s actually kinda funny . . . you know, in a weird dad kind of way. Don’t worry, your purity will remain intact. Scout’s honor.” She made some sort of gesture with her fingers that Violet assumed was supposed to be an oath, but since Chelsea had never actually been a Girl Scout, it ended up looking more like a peace sign. Or something. Violet maintained her dubious expression.
But Chelsea wasn’t about to be discouraged, and she tried to be the voice of reason. “Come on, I think Jay’s checking to see if he can get the time off work. The least you can do is ask your parents. If they say no, then no harm, no foul, right? If they say yes, then we’ll have a kick-ass time. We’ll go hiking in the snow and hang out in front of the fireplace in the evening. We’ll sleep in sleeping bags and maybe even roast some marshmallows. It’ll be like we’re camping.” She beamed a superfake smile at Violet and clasped her hands together like she was begging. “Do it for me. Ple-eease.”
Jules came back with their milk shake. It was strawberry, and Chelsea flashed Violet an I-told-you-so grin.
Violet finished her tea, mulling over the idea of spending the weekend in a snowy cabin with Jay and Chelsea. Away from town. Away from whoever was leaving her dead animals and creepy notes.
It did sound fun, and Violet did love the snow. And the woods. And Jay.
She could at least ask.
Like Chelsea said, No harm, no foul.
Chapter 18
The exhaustion had finally caught up with her, and that night Violet slept like the dead. For the first time in weeks, she felt completely and totally rested. And by morning, she felt sane again. Clear.
It was a great feeling.
She got up early. Well, maybe not early, but not late either, and in time to actually eat something before she had to leave for school. Not bad.
In the rush of the morning, she easily ignored the first hang-up call she received, chalking it up to mistaken dialing. The call log had simply read: Unknown Caller.
She shoved her cell phone into the pocket of her hoodie, and crammed her math book, and the homework assignment she’d been working on over her bowl of cereal, into her backpack.
Inside her jacket, she felt the phone vibrating. She pulled it out to check it.
Unknown Caller again.
“Hello?” She glanced out the window to make sure Jay wasn’t there to pick her up yet.
There was a moment in which she thought that the person on the other end might say something, a long, empty pause, but nothing happened. Finally, Violet pulled the phone away from her ear.
The call had ended.
She tucked it away for a second time. Jay would be there any minute.
Violet cleaned up her mess at the table and rinsed her bowl in the sink. She was listening for the sounds of his car when she felt the vibrations in her pocket. Again.
Now she was getting annoyed. She dried her hands on a towel and pulled the phone back out. It was the same thing: Unknown Caller.
“What?” she answered irritably.
On the other end, there was silence.
She sighed softly. “Hello?” she tried again, this time trying not to sound so sharp. She checked the phone to make sure the call was still connected. It was.
Nothing.
“Is anyone there?”
And then, something. What was it? A breath? A whisper? Violet heard something from the other end.
“Hello? Who is this?” she asked expectantly, hopefully.
She waited for a moment and then checked the phone. The call was gone, disconnected.
She chewed her lip as she stared at the screen on her cell phone, waiting for it to buzz again. She wondered who it could have been and reassessed her initial assumption that it had been a wrong number . . . who would call and then hang up when she answered three separate times? She could think of only one person.
She looked down at her backpack, lying on the floor by the kitchen table. Inside there was a pretty pink note with a disturbing message written in scrawling purple script.
She heard Jay’s car outside in the driveway just as the phone in her pocket vibrated once more. She hesitated, taking the phone out and staring at it. She thought about answering it, about telling whoever was on the other end to go screw themselves and to stop harassing her, but she doubted it would do any good. So she took another approach.
She picked up her backpack, and on her way to the front door scrolled down and hit Ignore on her phone.
