Luminosity (Gravity Series #3) (The Gravity Series) Page 2

  “Don’t worry,” Mr. Golem said to the class. “I know that together you guys have the collective attention span of a goldfish. I won’t waste too much of your time; that’s your job.”

  He held up this morning’s local paper. On the front page was a huge, grotesque picture of a dead blackbird with its ebony wings spread out stiffly. BIRD DEATHS SOLVED, screamed the headline.

  Golem gave the paper to a student in the front row to pass back. “As a refresher, hundreds of crows and blackbirds died during a cold snap several months ago. The CDC retrieved the bodies for testing, and now the results of those tests have been reported.”

  The birds had multiplied like crazy last summer, and then one morning in October, their lifeless corpses littered the ground. I’d thought about them often. Sometimes the dark birds flew soundlessly through my dreams, dropping feathers that floated in the still air.

  “Anybody want to take an educated guess at what the scientists found?” Golem scanned the room for raised hands.

  “Zombie DNA?” Alex proposed. The class snickered, none louder than Alex himself.

  “Radioactive blood?” cracked another boy.

  “Nothing that movie-worthy,” Golem said. He scrawled quickly across the board with squeaky chalk. “They found crush injuries. The theory is that a strong antagonist, possibly the changing winds or the intense cold front, either hit the birds with debris or caused them to hit each other because their natural sense of direction was off.

  “They’ve settled on the temperature change as a suitable answer, despite the fact that not all the evidence points to it. The front was severe, of course—from the low seventies to below freezing. But when you put the pieces together, it’s still an incomplete picture.”

  “Okay, kind of interesting,” Alex relented. “Is class over yet?”

  “Patience, dude. Don’t be a hater,” Golem said in a tragic attempt to be cool ten years too late. “The tests were thorough—air, water, soil. No abnormalities were found. But I’m still not buying it. I think there’s more to the story. I want you guys to think of this as extra credit. Let’s drum up some theories on what killed the birds. Break up the monotony. Since this is chemistry, we’ll start by looking at the chemicals involved.”

  “Isn’t the cold snap a good scientific reason?” asked a melodious, unfamiliar voice from the back row.

  I turned, interest piqued, along with the rest of the class. It was rare to have new students at Hawthorne, especially in the middle of the school year. Theo and Henry had been the last that I could recall.

  “Sure,” Golem said, addressing her. “But there’s a lot you missed. For those of who haven’t met her yet, this is your new classmate, Harlow Briggs.”

  A round of murmurs cycled through the room. Harlow’s stunning face was calm, not even acknowledging that she was now the center of attention. Her smooth, dark brown skin was complimented by a beautiful leather jacket on top of a royal blue shirt. Her black hair was styled effortlessly around her face. An expensive pair of slouchy leather boots stuck out from beneath her desk.

  Golem continued speaking. “Only blackbirds died—none of the robins or sparrows. Why did they multiply so quickly in the first place? What caused all of the them to die at the same time?”

  “It just seems like a waste of time,” Harlow said evenly. “But I didn’t witness it. I’m glad; I wouldn’t have wanted to scrape bird guts off of my Mercedes.”

  Golem smiled tightly. “What I’m striving to teach here is the ability to think critically and not just accept an answer that is handed to you, if it’s not satisfactory.”

  Harlow shrugged, seeming satisfied or bored. The birds were forgotten by the rest of the class as they continued to peek at her, a diamond among the rest of us plain old rocks.

  CHAPTER 2

  THEO, ALEX AND I were clustered by Alex’s jeep in the parking lot after school, planning what we were going to do that night. Hell had limited options to kill time outside of ghost sightings and playing cards.

  “We could always break out the Monopoly board,” Theo suggested half-heartedly, making her fists dance up and down.

  “Only if we’re playing for cash,” Alex said, mimicking Theo’s motions. He was nearly a foot taller than her and built like a linebacker, so he looked much goofier.“You don’t even have all the pieces, and you never let me play as the hat.”

  “Well, I think I’m officially out of ideas,” Theo said, throwing her hands up. “You two figure out something brilliant. This brain is tapped out.”

  “Oh, we could—” Alex began, but Theo cut him off.

  “Nothing illegal,” Theo clarified. Alex’s face fell instantly.

  Theo was an artist and always dresses the part. Her wardrobe mostly consisted of clothes she had designed and sewed herself. She’d recently traded her glasses for contacts, and her unusually vivid green eyes stood out even more without lenses to dull them. The rainbow of glitter she always wore on her eyelids brightened her look even more.

  Theo had been very shy when we first met, but as she gained some validation and experience, she’d changed. She’d found a lot of acceptance and praise for her art, which was the most important thing to her, and that made her a lot more comfortable and open.

  Alex and I filled her in on Golem’s extra credit project; like everyone else in Hell, she showed interest in what killed the birds. We didn’t have to bring up Harlow—her shiny silver Mercedes skimmed past us, sparing Theo by a hazardous inch.

  Alex whistled at the Mercedes and Theo glared up at him. A wind gust caused her ruby red hair to fly up around her face, making her look like an irate sorceress.

  He shrugged, looking embarrassed, and pulled the brim of his worn baseball cap over his eyes. “What? It’s a nice car. I appreciate the finer things in life.”

  Henry briskly marched up beside Alex and pulled him aside. I tried not to look at him directly, to pretend it was just any other boy there, and to not think about what we had been doing mere hours ago.

  “Can I talk to you for a minute?” Henry asked him. His voice sent little sparks to my nerves, sabotaging my effort. My body hummed with vibration, making my hands tremble.

  “Sure, man,” Alex said. They had remained friends the entire time, throughout the drama of Henry’s and my rollercoaster relationship.

  Alex mouthed an apology at Theo and me as he followed Henry to his BMW. Theo scowled at the pair; she hadn’t forgiven Henry for the things he’d put me through, no matter what the excuse.

  Theo caught my unsteady reaction and mistook the reason for it, patting me on the back. “Give it time, Ari. You really cared about him. That doesn’t just go away no matter how big of a pile of dirt the guy is.”

  “I just want to keep myself busy, that’s all,” I deflected.

  “You can tag along with me to my father’s, if you want,” Theo suggested. “Not an exciting event, but he said he had something to give me. Maybe my long forgotten aunt died and left me a million dollars.”

  “Sure. I can’t believe I’ve never met him after all this time.”

  She shrugged. “He’s not a people person—kind of socially awkward. That’s part of why he and my mother live apart.”

  Alex came jogging back over and we slid into the Creep, the name that Theo had tagged his Jeep with.

  “What did jerkface want?” Theo asked, fiddling with Alex’s radio as usual.

  “He was reminding me about a game tournament this weekend. I gotta bring both of my headsets.”

  Theo scoffed, leaning back in her seat and shaking her head. “Children. Both of you.”

  Alex scowled at her, forgoing his seat belt. “When did you suddenly get so mature? It was getting rid of the glasses, wasn’t it? They were keeping you young. Now you’re gonna get all wrinkly and eat prunes.”

  He tried to play it off as a joke, poking her shoulder, but I sensed some hidden tension between them. Theo’s smile seemed forced and instead of replying, she busied herself digging th
rough her bag. I wondered if they’d had an argument, or if Theo’s cold reaction was just because Alex and Henry were spending time together.

  I wished we could be the four musketeers again. I wished Henry and I didn’t have to hide, and that the tension disrupting our friendships would go away.

  As the Creep pulled away, I gazed out of my window. Behind the wheel of his car, Henry looked up and stared at me. Our eyes met, and the longing I felt was reflected in his gaze.

  ###

  The stink of old cigarette smoke permeated the air as Theo and I took a seat on her father’s living room couch. My eyes watered but I tried to act polite. Not as easy as I had expected.

  “Not a people person” wasn’t the half of it when it came to Richard Weaver.

  “You girls haven’t been getting into trouble, have you?” he asked gruffly, sitting across from us in a wife beater and boxer shorts. His fingernails were caked with dirt and putty and a five o’clock shadow darkened his already haggard face.

  “No, Dad,” Theo said. Her voice had gone shy and meek, like a wounded bird chirping for help. She sat with her knees together and her hands clasped demurely.

  “Good. I know teenagers can get into all kinds of ruckus when they’re not kept occupied. Your mother was always too busy with her teaching to pay attention.”

  I wanted to make a smart-mouthed comment, but didn’t want to disrespect Theo.

  “It’s good to have an opportunity to meet you, Mr. Weaver,” I said, trying to lay on the honey instead of the vinegar.

  He sniffed loudly, taking another puff of his cigarette like he hadn’t heard me speak. I could see why I hadn’t met him before. I bit my tongue hard so I didn’t say anything else.

  “You still trying to sell those scribbles?” Richard asked his daughter.

  His dismissive tone heated the marrow in my bones, and my untamed words rush out of my lips. “They’re hardly scribbles. Theo is insanely talented. My dad has featured her at his gallery several times.”

  Richard raised his eyebrows and sneered at me. “Sure, sure. I just wish you girls were more like those Thornhill people’s kids. They’re doing something real with their lives, working towards their future. Not relying on art projects. What kind of a future is that?”

  I was so indignant I could only open and close my mouth. Theo looked down at the knees of her jeans, scratching the fabric with her nail.

  “Yeah, I get what you’re saying,” she said.

  “I don’t get what you’re saying,” I countered firmly.

  Richard leaned back and lit another cigarette. He blew the smoke cloud in our direction. I tried to restrain my cough without much success, and he squinted at me in irritation.

  “You allergic?” he questioned with a raised eyebrow.

  “To something in this room.”

  “Isn’t that a shame?” He blew another puff of smoke at me.

  “You know what, I forgot that we needed to be going,” I said. The openly nasty look he shot me indicated that he didn’t give a hoot about my opinion. I couldn’t believe that Theo’s kind mother, Lucy, was still married to this psycho. The wood-paneled walls of the house had dirt in the cracks, and there were ripped posters of Miller Light babes stapled crookedly on top.

  Theo made no move to get up, remaining in her semi-fetal position on the couch, trying to escape into her knees. “You said you wanted to give me something, isn’t that why you asked me over? What was it?”

  He arose and lumbered out of the room to go get whatever it was.

  “I’m so, so sorry, Ariel,” Theo said immediately, turning towards me. “I didn’t know he was going to be like this. I never would have asked you to come. He’s just having a bad spell right now.”

  She looked embarrassed. I felt a fresh wave of protectiveness for her.

  “Please don’t apologize. It’s not you’re fault,” I said, gently taking Theo’s hands and trying to get her to stand up. “Let’s leave, quick, before he comes back. He’s not socially awkward; he’s a full-on jerk.”

  “Ari, I’m used to it. It doesn’t bug me anymore,” Theo said. She was watching the floor, still using that soft, little voice. Finally, she stood and started picking up the overflowing glass ashtrays in the room—there was one on each table—and dumping them into a little wicker garbage can.

  “He wasn’t always this bad; he’s just been under a lot of stress these past few years. His business is rough, money is tight. He doesn’t get out much anymore, and he injured his back so he can’t take care of the house.”

  “That’s got to be a world record for number of excuses crammed into a sentence,” I told her as gently as I could.

  She tapped out another ashtray, hitting it gently against the can. “He told me he was going to quit the cigarettes, though. He keeps promising me every year. When I was five, he promised me he was positively going to quit on October 32. Imagine my naive surprise when Halloween passed and I realized he’d been tricking me.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “He’s been in a good mood recently. I don’t know what set him off this time.”

  Richard came back into the room and Theo clammed back up, setting the garbage can down. He handed her an old shoebox with a grease stain on the bottom.

  “What’s in here?” Theo asked, perplexed, as she fiddled with the lid.

  “Those drawings you wanted me to find. They were in the garage, beneath my fishing lures. I think I spilled antifreeze or something on the box, though.”

  Theo pressed her lips together so tightly that they disappeared. Her hands settled protectively on the shoebox. “Thanks, Dad.”

  We only stayed for five more uncomfortable minutes, but it felt like forever. I still had to tug Theo out as Richard gave her a laundry list of chores for the next week that he needed help with. As soon as we were walking down the street, I started quizzing her.

  “What was that? Seriously Theo, I don’t think that you should go back over there. I had no idea your dad was so harsh.”

  She carried the shoebox full of pictures under her arm. “I don’t have any choice. I’m the only one who will put up with his crap. If I don’t take care of him, his house will fall apart and so will he and I can’t live with that kind of guilt.”

  “That shouldn’t be your responsibility; you’re seventeen. What about your mom?” I couldn’t think that Lucy would be happy with this, even if the two were still married.

  “My mom doesn’t know how bad it gets,” Theo said softly. She stared down at her sneakers as they hit the sidewalk. “She hasn’t gone over there much, considering he’s half the reason we moved back to Hell.”

  “Is that why you’re so hard on yourself all the time?” I asked gently. “Because of him?”

  Theo worried her bottom lip. “Probably. I think that’s why I have such a perfectionist streak. He’s right to be cautious, though; he didn’t get to follow his dreams of being in a band because he messed up his voice smoking. I understand where he’s coming from. It’s his weird way of loving me.”

  I didn’t understand it, at all. And I didn’t like how quickly she rushed to his defense, even if he was her dad. I couldn’t believe anyone wouldn’t see how brilliant she was.

  Being around Theo’s father had exhausted and enraged me. Combined with my poor sleep from the night before, I was ready to crash when I parted with Theo and went back to my house.

  I stomped around the edge of the garden, still muttering to myself about what a jerk Richard was, and stopped. Raised voices were coming from inside my house.

  I slid open the back door and took two steps inside. My parents were tensely positioned on opposite sides of the living room. The furniture stood in between them like a blockade.

  “You don’t get to veto the decisions I make,” Claire yelled, punctuating her words by chopping one hand.

  “I do when it’s a matter that would affect the entire family,” Hugh shot back.

  “It’s not going to affect anything, other th
an making us a little less like underdogs,” Claire insisted defiantly. “It’s just an offer, not a promise. I can at least see what they have to say.”

  “Stop making it sound like they’re innocent. There’s nothing innocent about Thornhill,” Hugh pleaded. Neither of them had noticed me step into the room, and I watched them, spellbound. “You keep saying they’ve changed—”

  “The prayer group was a long time ago. They aren’t the same people anymore.”

  “A girl almost died, Claire—not to mention what happened recently.”

  “They’re not connected to those little girls,” Claire said with obvious stubbornness. “I don’t care what faulty lines you draw between them.”

  The floorboards creaked as I shifted my weight, and I groaned as my feuding parents turned towards me. I wanted to hear more of their argument.

  “Ariel! How was school?” Claire asked with false cheer. Her attempt at making things better only doused me with discomfort. The smile on her thin face was a lie.

  “What’s going on?” I asked warily, stepping farther into the living room so I didn’t have to raise my voice. “What were you guys arguing about?”

  “Your mother has decided she’s going to try to join the Thornhill Society,” Hugh said, his voice edged with bitterness. His boyish face was red from exertion.

  “What?” I asked, turning back to Claire. “Why? How?”

  Claire looked me up and down. “Deana Ford and Mary Slaughter invited me personally to go to their next meeting, that’s all. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. I know you two don’t approve, but I think it would be a good fit. I could make a name for myself again. There is a lot of success and accolades to be had with Thornhill.”

  “But you’d have to sell your soul to get them,” Hugh said. “Isn’t that a high price to pay?”

  I could tell Claire was bristling and on edge by the set of her shoulders. She looked back and forth between Hugh and me.

  “I don’t have to explain myself to anyone, let alone my husband and daughter,” she said. “I’m an adult; I’ll do as I see fit. If that means joining Thornhill, then that’s what will happen. I’m sorry if you don’t like it, but it has nothing to do with either of you.”