Luminosity (Gravity Series #3) (The Gravity Series) Read online

  Frustration made me feel instantly tired and winded. I leaned my forehead against the bookshelves, shutting my eyes and breathing in the scent of books. “Why didn’t you just text me and cancel?” I wanted to be angry at someone, and he was the only one in front of me.

  “I had no idea she was going to be here until I got here,” he said pleadingly. “I’m sorry, I only arrived five minutes before you. If it was just her, I wouldn’t be as leery, but it’s Roger, too. He has a hundred eyes and I know he spies on me every chance he gets.”

  So, my feelings of paranoia were justified. The thought made me shiver, thinking about Roger’s hollow eyes and tall, slender frame. He reminded me of an impeccable, modern Grim Reaper.

  “So, this is it?” I knew that, of course, but I stubbornly wanted him to confirm the bad news.

  He bit his lip, clasped his hand to my jaw and kissed me firmly. He pulled me close, the kiss full of longing, and turned me so that he could push my back up against the bookshelves. I couldn’t breathe, dizzy with him.

  In a split second he stepped away, leaving me floating, my skin humming again. My irritation had dissipated for the time being.

  “Feel free to answer all of my questions that way,” I said.

  A grin tugged at one corner of his mouth and he shook his head. “It’s not a good idea for us to stay here. She could send Roger around to snoop at any moment; I know they saw my car parked out front. We’ll figure something out.” He stroked my cheek gently with his thumb, his voice thick. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  He touched his lips to mine, then squeezed my hand and we parted.

  Seeing him only made my yearning worse. It was like one hit of a drug when all I wanted was to go on a binge. I watched him walk around the bookshelves and disappear, my heart falling with every step.

  I was already pissed off at Cheryl Rhodes, but I was also curious about the items she was going to put on show. I slowly went back through the glass tunnel towards the front, and positioned myself by the magazine racks so I could see what was going on.

  Three tall, cherry wood display cases stood in front of Cheryl and her two assistants. A stack of wooden crates were beside that, overflowing with packing peanuts.

  Cheryl was admonishing her meek new assistant, who looked maybe a year or two older than me. Her big glasses reminded me of Theo when I’d first met her, although otherwise they looked nothing alike.

  “The ceremonial objects should be front and center,” Cheryl instructed.

  “Should we group everything by size or color?” the meek assistant asked. A little spiral notebook supported her chin.

  “We’re not talking about crayons,” Cheryl growled. “I need coffee.”

  She looked pleadingly towards Roger, whose spindly form was totally still. Now that I had a chance to study him, he looked more like Ichabod Crane after a nose job.

  All three of them marched away, the assistant scampering to keep up. When they rushed out the front door, I dropped the magazine in my hand and sidled over to the display.

  The cases were lined with plush, royal blue velvet. Nothing had been put inside yet. Curious, I moved around the peanuts in one of the wooden crates.

  A long object wrapped in a silky, scarlet cloth lay just beneath the top. I pulled the bundle out and delicately unfolded the red cloth. As it felt away, I gulped. A large, serrated knife with animals carved into the ivory handle sat in my palm. I could make out a pig, a dog, and a horse, among others. The knife creeped me out; the size and shape reminded me of Warwick’s hunting knife.

  I felt movement on my neck, like someone breathing. Before I could turn, a woman whispered in my ear. “Pay attention,” she said.

  I gasped, my heart pounding. I spun around, but no one was even near me. The few patrons of the library in the room were engrossed in the nearby DVD collection. I tossed the knife and the scarlet cloth back into the crate and hightailed it to the street, running past Roger with a tray of coffee cups in his hand.

  ###

  I finally got the chance—and worked up the courage—to call Madison and confront her with what I’d found in the planner. I almost hung the phone up as it rang, second-guessing myself. I tapped my fingers nervously on my knee.

  “Who is this?” Madison barked.

  “Aren’t you polite?” I muttered, rolling my eyes. “It’s Ariel Donovan.”

  “Oh.” A pause. “How did you get my number?”

  “I asked around for it.” I didn’t want her to discover that I’d been snooping yet.

  “Gotcha. Sorry about the snappy greeting. I’ve been harassed with calls the last couple weeks. I don’t recognize any of the numbers, but they leave all kinds of nasty messages.”

  “Do you think it’s Lainey?”

  “I know it’s Lainey,” she said firmly. “No question. My friends—ex-friends now that they’ve chosen sides—told me so. Plus it just stinks of her kind of dirty trick.”

  I neglected to point out that she had pulled some pretty dirty tricks herself. Cradling the phone with my chin, I dug around in my backpack and retrieved a notebook and a pen in case she spilled anything of interest. It wouldn’t be solid evidence but it would be a start.

  “Why did you call me in the first place?” Madison asked.

  “I was really thrown by what you told me,” I said carefully. “About Thornhill pulling you two apart. It was like deja vu; the same thing happened to Jenna and me.”

  “Yeah, I remember,” Madison said, her voice muffled like her mouth was pressed up against her phone. I didn’t know girls of her kind were capable of showing emotion; she surprised me.

  “I’m suspicious too, about a lot of things,” I said. “Jenna had to have been—“a hard lump rose in my throat, a sudden wave of sadness taking me by surprise”—put in the lake at Lainey’s dock, but wouldn’t that mean that she knew about it?”

  “Awfully solid line of questioning.”

  I took a deep breath and played my Ace. “I found your planner.”

  Another pause, this one so long that I peeked at my phone to see if she’d hung up.

  “I left it in the bathroom, didn’t I?” she asked, her voice tight.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m glad you found it and not someone else. You aren’t going to blackmail me, are you?”

  The thought hadn’t even occurred to me. “Why would I do that? Like I said, I’m suspicious, too. Lainey would never trust me, anyway. I figured we could compare notes.”

  “I thought maybe Lainey had something to do with it, yes,” Madison said, hesitation making her words stilted. “But then I did the math, and we were gone the whole weekend that Jenna was kidnapped.”

  “Yet, you’re still questioning it?”

  “I know, Ariel. I know how it sounds. But I don’t want to push it. Please tell me you won’t say anything.” I heard panic and regret in her voice. She wished she hadn’t answered the phone or opened her mouth.

  “What? Why?” I jumped up off of the couch, even though she couldn’t see me, and started pacing.

  “Because I’m just being paranoid. I don’t want to get involved.”

  “You’re not….”

  But this time she actually disconnected the call, leaving me in stunned silence.

  Hugh called me upstairs to help him cook dinner. I immersed myself in the task, keeping silent as he ranted about the price of the ingredients. I should have known not to reveal so much over the phone. Now I’d blown my chance and odds were I wouldn’t get another one.

  As I was setting silverware out on the table, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket.

  Meeet up w me after basketball practice, tues in locker. Maddie.

  Relieved, my initial worry washed away. I didn’t know what had changed her mind, but I knew it was my only chance at finding out what she knew.

  CHAPTER 8

  “HOW ABOUT LOOKING at what caused the severe temperature changes in the first place?” asked a girl in chemistry.

 
“Global warming?” Alex asked.

  “The most likely hypothesis,” Golem agreed, standing up against his desk with his arms crossed.

  “Then why was it contained to Hell?” the determined girl pressed. “There was three feet of snow here during that last storm and in Brighton there was less than a foot.”

  Even though we’d figured out what killed the birds, Mr. Golem had continued our Friday chats in class. Probably because he still wanted to be proven wrong. As time passed, however, the talks about the birds had strayed from their original subject. Now we spoke about the weird eccentricities of our town, the unusually high reports of ghost sightings and electrical disruptions. The debates got so heated one would think we were doing it for a contest.

  On that day, there was a knock on the door and Golem went to answer it. Principal McPherson barged into the room. Looking frazzled instead of his usual emotionless self, he whispered a quick word to Mr. Golem, whose face instantly fell.

  McPherson left with renewed smugness on his ugly mug. His leg was still dragging, but not any worse than before. I peered at Alex pointedly, but he just raised his blond eyebrow at me.

  “What was that about?” Alex asked me.

  I shrugged, frowning. “No idea. But it seems like McPherson’s got something wrong with him.”

  “What’s new about that?” Alex joked.

  “Bad news, guys,” Golem said as he turned to address us. “The Principal just informed me that we’re no longer allowed to have our Friday discussions.”

  “Why?” I asked out loud.

  “McPherson said I was supposed to be teaching chemistry, not biology or theory.” Golem had an obvious look of distaste of his face, like McPherson had flavored the air. He sat and pulled at the knees of his wrinkled khakis. “He’s under the impression that teaching students to think for themselves is a waste of time. So, that’s all there is to it. What the principal says goes, unfortunately.”

  The class erupted in disappointed groans, all except for Harlow Briggs. She sat smirking like a pleased cat in her seat in the back corner. I had the immediate feeling that she had tattled on Golem. She caught me looking at her and the smirk dropped off of her pretty features, replaced by a cruel scowl.

  Alex grumbled, thumping his textbook open. “They never let us have any fun around here.”

  ###

  Accompanying Claire to Thornhill’s bake sale was the perfect cover for meeting up with Madison. From our table in the corner of the gymnasium, I watched the Thornhill moms flitting from station to station. They were easily identifiable by their unofficial uniforms of low-cut blouses, flowered skirts and pearls.

  The commons was full of students and parents milling around tables piled with baked goods. Lainey’s mother, Deana, sidled over a few minutes after we arrived. She had the same bleached-out hair as her daughter, piled in a high, pageant hairdo. A mirthless smile was frozen on her red bow lips, and she wore a fur vest and skintight jeans.

  “Cupcakes? How cute,” Deana said. “Messy, though, with that frosting.”

  “We have napkins,” Claire said through her teeth. “What did you bring, Deana?”

  “Caramel corn,” Deana said. “It’s always a hit. But I’m sure you’ll do just fine.”

  Her face said anything but as she went back to her table. It was hard to imagine them being friends, especially close friends. I wondered if there had been a boy involved in their split, but then I thought about the utter unattractiveness of Cliff Ford, with his orange spray-on tan and his chest hair, and I vetoed that speculation.

  A few other women wandered past, each looking to take a chip out of Claire. She handled it impressively well, unfazed by their borderline rude comments. I got the feeling I was witnessing part of her initiation.

  As soon as people discovered how good Claire’s red velvet cupcakes were, however, our table was mobbed. A little smile of satisfaction glued itself to her lips as the cupcakes flew off the plates. I kept checking my phone out of habit, nerves making my crossed knee bounce up and down.

  “Do you have somewhere you need to be?” Claire asked suspiciously. I shook my head and stowed the phone back in my pocket.

  Deana sidled back over to Claire, having realized that she was doing really well. “Claire, the ladies and I were talking. We’d love for you to help us out at the end of season mittens and coats drive in a few weeks.”

  “Let me check my schedule and I’ll get back to you,” Claire said. “Managing a household along with a career gets busy, as I’m sure you remember back from when you had a job.”

  I had to crush my arms to my ribs to stop from laughing.

  Deana smiled that unsettling, emotion-free grin again. “You really should look into hiring some help.” She waved her manicured hands dramatically. “It has saved me a ton of headaches.”

  “I’ll be sure to check into that,” Claire bluffed. She was too anal retentive to let anyone else clean her house. Even when I cleaned, she re-cleaned after I was done.

  “Why didn’t you just tell her you’ll do it?” I asked after Deana had gone.

  “Because I thought I would let her at least think I’m busy. Of course I’ll do it. I have to seem like I have some kind of life.”

  I regarded her briefly. Since she’d been attending Thornhill’s meetings, she’d grown colder than ever. I could understand a little, considering how nasty they were to her. But then why attend at all? Was what they preached really that alluring?

  Madison’s mother, Joan Taylor, came over to our table. She was one of the most casually dressed women there, in jeans with ripped knees and a Hawthorne Hellcat sweatshirt. It still shocked me how down to earth she was in comparison to her daughter.

  “Red velvet? My favorite,” she said. “My weakness is your financial opportunity.”

  She started digging through her wallet.

  “Are you selling anything today?” I asked.

  “No, I’m just sampling,” Madison’s mom said. “Thornhill kind of blacklisted me, unfortunately.”

  Claire turned to me. “Ariel, can you get my purse out of the car? I need my wallet to make change.”

  I sighed and lifted myself up. I only had a little bit of time until I was supposed to meet Madison. I didn’t want to give her extra seconds to change her mind and scurry off.

  Out in the parking lot, I retrieved Claire’s purse. Movement from across the street caught my eye, and I squinted to look closer.

  Alyssa Chapman was playing hopscotch by herself on the sidewalk. As always, she wore her blue raincoat. She couldn’t take it off now that she was dead. I hadn’t seen her in a long time. I crossed the street and went up to her.

  I knew I was running on a tight schedule, but this was an important detour. I promised myself I would hurry.

  Alyssa paid no attention to me, hopping on one foot down the squares of the sidewalk. She was singing off-key to herself, and I recognized the song from a Disney movie.

  “Hi, Alyssa,” I said softly.

  She turned, her young face stricken with surprise. “You can see me?”

  “Yes. Don’t you remember me?”

  She regarded me for a moment, tilting her head from side to side. “Nope.”

  Not much of a surprise. Jenna didn’t remember her time in Dark, either, and that’s where Alyssa had been up until Warwick destroyed the symbol keeping her there. I’d never spoken to her ghost in Limbo before. Dark and Limbo were two undead worlds close to ours—Limbo was sort of like Purgatory and Dark was like hell on earth.

  Alyssa kicked an imaginary pebble on the ground. I squatted down to her level, hands on my knees. A little buzz of electricity emanated from her, the same as I felt from Jenna when I got too close.

  “What are you doing out at night?” I asked her gently, hairs prickling along the back of my neck. It was still and quiet out in the gloom, without any wind to stir the trees.

  “Mommy was talking about baking cookies.” Her front tooth was missing, leaving a wide gap. “She
wouldn’t let me have one. Wherever she goes, I go with her, but she ignores me. She’s been giving me the silent treatment.”

  My heart dropped in my chest for her. At least she had one person who could see her. It wasn’t much comfort, but it was better than her being completely invisible.

  “Why won’t she talk to me?” Alyssa asked, her eyes wide and questioning. My throat started to close up and I swallowed hard as she spoke. “What did I do?”

  “You didn’t do anything, honey. Adults just get very busy sometimes and they don’t always have time for their kids. It doesn’t mean they don’t care.” I knew that from my own personal experience. “If she’s in the school, though, why didn’t you go with her? Why are you waiting out here?”

  Her eyes flicked to Hawthorne and back to me, and I saw unmistakable fear inside them. She pulled the collar of her coat towards her chin, then twirled a strand of her hair.

  “I can’t go inside. It’s not my school. Do I look like a turtle?”

  I smiled a little at the random question. “Very turtle-esque.”

  “I want to be a Ninja Turtle for Halloween. Do you think Mommy will say its okay? She thinks its boyish.”

  “I’m sure your mom will think it’s fine. You just have to convince her how much cooler Ninja Turtles are than princesses. I’ll tell you what—Hawthorne is my school. There are a lot of kids there who aren’t students today. I don’t think anyone would mind.”

  She shook her head vehemently, playing with the strand of her hair, twisting it tightly around one finger.

  “No, I mean I really can’t go inside,” she insisted. “When I tried to get closer, I couldn’t move. There was like a big wall.” She mimed pressing against an invisible wall with her hands. “And I heard the spooky kids inside.”

  “Spooky kids?”

  “Yeah—yes.” She leaned closer to me, beckoning for me to lean forward as well. She cupped both hands around her mouth and whispered. “They keep calling me to play with them. They know my name, but I don’t know them. I don’t want to go; they’re so close now. They didn’t used to come here.”

  “Don’t go with them if they scare you,” I said. “What are the spooky kids saying to you?”