By the time we’re both breathless and exhausted, the sky has gone darker, and a wet fog has settled over the park. “Which way do you think the house is?” I ask when we come to a place where a couple of paths intersect.
Olivia considers the options. “I don’t know. I’m all turned around,” she says, just as we hear the soft rumble of thunder off in the distance. “But if we don’t hurry, we’re going to get caught in that. Come on.” She loops her arm through mine, and we pick a direction.
Her steps are brisk, and my tired legs struggle to keep up with her long strides. We haven’t gone very far when she stops. “I think I see someone,” she says. “I’ll go ask.”
“Olivia, wait—” I start to call, but she’s already off, jogging toward the person she thinks she’s seen.
There’s not much else I can do but follow her. But when I see who she’s found, I slow my steps.
With her long tangle of white-blond hair and the jewelry cluttering her wrists and fingers, the girl Olivia’s found reminds me of a very pale gypsy. She’s wearing a long skirt and a purple velvet turtleneck that seems strange for June, even on such a cool day. And I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something off about her. Maybe it’s her eyes—it looks like she’s wearing deep, glossy black contacts that give her an almost alien appearance. Or maybe it’s that the way she’s looking at Olivia seems too intense—it reminds me of the way a hungry animal would watch its dinner.
I barely catch myself as I stumble at the abruptness of that thought. That’s exactly the crazy sort of thing my mom would think. The girl’s kind of odd-looking, sure. But she doesn’t really look dangerous.
Taking a deep breath, I force myself to catch up with Olivia, but when I’m only a couple of feet away, I stop short again. It’s such a small thing—the flick of dark eyes as the girl glances at me, and then the flash of teeth as she smiles knowingly. Certain.
It’s not the obvious fakeness of her brittle excuse for a smile that stops me from taking another step. No, that would be understandable. Explainable. What stops me cold and makes the skin on the back of my neck prickle in warning is that the gleaming white teeth peeking from behind the girl’s lips look like they’ve been filed down to jagged points.
I force myself to blink the image away. I have to be seeing things. It must be a trick of the light or the fog, because it’s not possible for a beautiful girl to have a grin as sharp and wicked as a shark’s. But if I’m starting to see things . . .
I open my eyes, and the girl’s teeth are once again hidden behind her plump lips. She looks normal . . . mostly. Strangely dressed, but normal. I must have imagined it.
Just like your mom, a small voice deep inside me whispers.
No, I think, silencing that voice. I am not like my mom. I wouldn’t be like my mom. I would get help. I would get better. And, besides, this is all perfectly explainable. What I saw is just the effects of too little sleep. Or maybe I’m just keyed up from a good run.
But I can’t shake the feeling that the air suddenly feels more dangerous than it did a few minutes ago. Real or imagined, I feel so uneasy that I don’t want to stay anywhere near the girl. Even though my legs feel like jelly, I want to turn around and run, and I want to keep on running until I’ve put days between us. The feeling is so strong, so sure, it takes everything I have to force myself to walk the final few steps to where Olivia is standing, still talking to the blonde.
But Olivia’s not acting like there’s anything at all strange about the girl. She’s not staring at the girl’s teeth or backing away from those predatory eyes. And she doesn’t seem to notice that the air around us feels suddenly alive with dangerous electricity.
You are overreacting, I tell myself. Not that it helps.
I can’t make myself pretend that everything is fine. I want to get away from the girl. I need to get away from her. Now.
“Come on, Liv,” I say, tugging at her sleeve. “We need to go.”
Even as I speak, I can feel the eyes of the blonde on me, sharp as needles digging into my skin.
Olivia pulls away. “But she was just telling me—”
“We’ll figure it out on our own,” I say, tugging at Liv again. The prickling across my skin is suddenly sharper, more painful, and when I look up, the blond girl is staring at me openly now. Her eyes are such an unnatural black that panic spikes in me, and my heart feels like a winged thing trapped in my chest. It’s enough to spur me on, and with another sure tug, I finally get Olivia to follow me toward the main path.
“What’s gotten into you?” Olivia asks, pulling her arm away.
Now that I’m away from the blonde, the panic I’d felt in the girl’s presence has eased some. “I don’t know,” I say honestly, glancing back to make sure we haven’t been followed. “I just had a feeling about her.” I know it’s weak as explanations go.