Cursed (7 page)

The strange encounter in the alley had to be some horrible coincidence. Maybe the guy got his car repaired by her father, and somehow, her daddy told him where he lived. Maybe five years ago, he was a neighbor who met Therese before she disappeared.

But the more she thought, the more she realized that there was simply no way the stranger in the alley knew her sister or where her daddy lived.

“Where have you been?”
her dad called, jarring her out of her thoughts.

“The chute was overflowing. I took care of it,” she replied quickly. “I’m fixin’ to go to bed, Daddy. Kinda nervous about tomorrow.”

“Okay. Sleep well.”

“You, too.” She glanced into the living room once more as she walked down the hallway.

Her father was a zombie, starring glassy-eyed at the television. Adrienne saddened at the sight of him. The man she recalled from her youth used to smile and laugh. In the two weeks she’d been in Atlanta, he hadn’t smiled once. Had he been this sad since Therese’s death?

Adrienne returned to her room and maneuvered the door closed. She flopped onto her bed and pulled the journal free again, opening it. Would she find the mysterious man from the alley in there somewhere?

She flipped through the entire journal, pausing only at the drawings. She reached the end without finding the hooded man. Disappointed, she closed it.

“You’re so lame, Addy,” she told herself, rolling her eyes. “Even he said it was a mistake.”

She stretched for the pocket sized French dictionary in her book bag and rolled onto her back. She looked up a few of the French words in the journal. They made no more sense than the English words. Frustrated, Adrienne turned to the last page of the journal.

The entire left hand page was of a robed man in red with the strange symbol doodled almost absently into all the white space around the figure. On the right hand page was a short sentence in French.

Adrienne looked up one word then spoke them all aloud.

“He is coming.”

Beneath them was a cross with a skull and crossbones at its center surrounded on all sides by veves of the gods.

The journal ended there.

Adrienne closed it, pensive. She stretched to reach her sticky notes and read through them again in the order she received them.

I’m glad you’re here.

Be careful. He is coming.

Keep the journal safe.

Free us. Find the key.

All were written in different handwriting, but bore the same protection symbol in the same corner, the only unifying factor. They appeared in her room randomly, placed there by someone, maybe the same person who dropped off the journal.

Whoever left them wasn’t trying to scare or hurt her, though. If anything, the opposite was true. Whoever it was, wanted her there. Wanted her help.

“You should totally leave better instructions,” she said to whatever spirits might be listening. “This is kinda creepy. Just leave me like, one long letter instead of all them sticky notes.”

She tucked the notes into the back of the journal and replaced the dictionary in her backpack. She didn’t think her father would search her room the way her mother did, but she wasn’t taking any chances.

Whatever was going on, it was important. She just didn’t understand why.

What is your name, sister of Therese?

The stranger in the alley scared her. Had she just run into the serial killer lurking in the alleys of the Lower Ninth or was he just some creepy guy who knew too much about her?

She opened the top drawer of her nightstand and pulled out the deck of oversized tarot cards she kept with her at all times. Her gaze went to Therese’s shrine. The deck had been hers and was sent back to New Orleans with the rest of her things after her disappearance.

With little money to spend on such things, Adrienne adopted the cards as her own. They were unusual, the backs of each one featuring a coiled snake, a sacred symbol in voodoo representing Papa Legba, the protector and head of the gods who communicated with the one true god. She suspected they were custom made for Therese, because she’d never seen any printed in such a high level of quality, certainly not at Madame Estelle’s.

The cards always reminded her of Therese and of the darker side of Therese no one else had known about. Only Adrienne had seen her sister kill animals outside the need for sacrifice. Therese had done it while learning black magic spells, which she once claimed was merely curiosity. As much as she loved and missed her sister, Adrienne also suspected Therese got involved in something she shouldn’t have.

The journal seemed to support her hunch. Therese was clearly influenced by magic when she wrote the nonsense.

Adrienne shook away her dark thoughts. She preferred to think of her sister as looking over her rather than dwelling on Therese’s interest in black magic.

“Will my first day of school be good?” she asked the spirits.

As she did every night, she drew one card to see what the next day had in store for her. She placed it before her then took a deep breath and flipped it over.

“The Star.” She smiled. “This is awesome.” The Star card normally meant a bright day filled with opportunity of some kind. She didn’t try to guess what, but she hoped it had to do with her singing.

Satisfied, she shuffled the cards and tucked them into a pocket of her backpack.

Devil. Death. Six of Cups.
The cards from her reading earlier still haunted her, particularly because she didn’t understand why.

Bright and early the next morning, Coach Higgins ran them until two guys threw up. Relieved they were able to stop, Jayden doubled over. A full head smaller than his six-four frame, Mickey barely looked winded as he stopped beside him.

Right about now, I wish Grandmama was right about someone putting me out of my misery,
Jayden thought, panting.

“Grace wanted me to ask you if you’re over Kimmie enough to date,” Mickey said.

“What? Oh god, it begins again,” Jayden said. He straightened and accepted the water bottle Mickey held out. The early September humidity was made worse by the sunrise, a giant peach perched on the horizon. Jayden was soaked from shirt to socks with sweat. They’d been running for half an hour.

“Drills!” Higgins shouted. “Break up in teams. Washington, with the running backs. You’re too tall to be agile.”

Jayden rolled his eyes, but jogged over to the obstacle course set up for the small, nimble members of the football team like Mickey.

“Let’s dance!” Mickey said, darting and ducking invisible opponents. He pretended to score a touchdown and did his infamous Mickey shuffle.

Jayden watched, envious of his friend’s flawless footwork. Mickey’s feet didn’t seem to touch the ground when he moved. Jayden had superhuman reflexes but not speed, a combination he found frustrating.

“How tall’d you grow this summer?” one of the other players asked, looking up at Jayden.

“Four inches. Think I’m done,” Jayden said.

“Too tall to move like he should,” Coach Higgins complained. “You gotta be more active in the pocket, Washington. The defense can see your eyes now. They’ll predict you better, if you don’t learn to move faster.” He pulled out a stopwatch.

“I told you. Move faster,” Mickey echoed with a wink.

“Coach –” Jayden started to object.

“Go,” the coach ordered, holding up the watch.

Jayden jolted forward, not expecting the sudden command. He tripped through the first set of tires, eliciting a laugh from the more agile runners.

“Lift your clown feet, Washington!” the coach snapped.

Furious at himself, Jayden focused hard on conquering the rest of the obstacle course. He was panting again by the time he reached the end.

“Seventy-three seconds,” the coach called. “My grandmother can do it in half that. Again, Washington!”

Mickey was grinning as Jayden trotted past him. “Pretend like you’re running from Kimmie,” he whispered.

Jayden laughed and took his position at the head of the course. This time, he was ready for the coach. He shot off the line, concentrating on placing his feet and trying to emulate the easy dance that Mickey perfected.

“Eighty-one seconds!” Higgins said as he reached the end.

“What? Coach, there’s no way!” Jayden objected. “I was - ”

“Ready? Go!”

He bolted to the head of the course and started again.

“Sixty-eight.”

“Jesus, Coach, I think I need - ”

“Ready?”

Groaning, Jayden pushed himself through it three more times before the coach relented. He threw himself on his back, struggling to catch his breath. He sat up after a minute to watch the running and corner backs tackle the obstacle course. Each finished in under sixty seconds and made it look effortless.

“That’s how it’s done, Washington,” the coach told him. “Go throw the ball.”

Jayden climbed to his feet and trotted to the offensive line coach, who’d been a quarterback in five Super Bowls.

“You’re not that slow,” he said, smiling. “Higgins worries too much.”

“He’s … good at what he does, I guess,” Jayden said.

“You will be too, when I’m done with you,” his coach said. “You got a lot of expectations to live up to this year.”

Tell me about it.
Jayden almost sighed.

“Forty push-ups, sixty seconds. Go.”

Jayden dropped. He pumped out fifty before the stopwatch sounded then sprang to his feet.

“Sprint, stop, whirl, throw!”

Jayden obeyed the commands, centered and focused with the drills in a way he never felt outside of practice. After twenty minutes, they started throwing the ball. His precision was flawless and had earned him the reputation of never missing a target. His increase in height gave him more torque, and he was pleased to find he could throw farther this year than last. Coach Higgins was right; his weakness was moving around in the pocket, staying on his toes and avoiding the attempts to sack him long enough for one of his RBs to make it into the open.

Mickey was his go-to on the team. The little guy didn’t miss a catch and could out dance any defender up against him.

They scrimmaged for the last half an hour, until Coach Higgins called for them to stop.

As they retreated towards the locker rooms, someone called out to him.

“Jayden, Mickey!”

They both turned to see the editor for the high school newspaper headed their way.

“Oh, god,” Mickey muttered. “You better do the talking. We know how these things go.”

“Hey guys,” the girl said, smiling. “We’ve been snapping pics for this week’s ezine. Any cool quote about what it takes to be the dynamic duo of football?”

“Sounds like we’re gay,” Mickey said.

She wrote it down.

“No, don’t …” Jayden gave Mickey a harried look. “Here’s a better one: it takes teamwork in all aspects of life to be successful.”

“Oh, that’s a good one,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “You both headed to LSU next year?”

“We’ll let you know as soon as we decide,” Mickey said. “I’m partial to southern girls.”

“Partial to southern girls,” the editor repeated as she wrote. “How about you, Jayden?”

“I guess I like southern girls,” he said with a shrug.

“No, I mean, are you signing with LSU?”

“I haven’t decided,” he replied, flashing his famous smile. It had the effect he hoped for. She blushed and looked down at her notepad. “You’ll be the first to know, okay?”

Flustered, the girl nodded.

They once again headed towards the locker room.

“Do you think she knows you were quoting the teamwork poster in our locker room?” Mickey whispered.

“Nah. Notice how we’re the only two she ever asks for a quote, and she does it every week?”

“Yeah. Which one of us is she after? Both of us?”

“Maybe. I’m done with girls for now. I’m gonna focus on school and football,” Jayden said.

“I’d ask her out, but she runs the ezine. Can you imagine what she’d print if she got pissed?” Mickey shook his head. “I’d be afraid to break up with her. Then I’d cheat, she’d find out, and the scandal would be on the front page for like, months.”

“Don’t cheat,” Jayden suggested with a chuckle.

“Even better – I won’t ask her out.”

They bantered back and forth as they rushed to shower and make it to the cafeteria before class started. As they passed through the hallway through the arts wing, Jayden registered the husky, rich and warm vocals of what sounded like an angel. She was a cross between Eartha Kitt and Adele, a sexy purr that set his blood on fire. He stopped in place, surprised someone so talented came from the music room here.

“What?” Mickey asked, pausing a few steps away.

“You hear the singing?”

“Yeah. So?”

Jayden rolled his eyes. The door to one of the music rooms was cracked open. He retraced his steps to peer into it, even more surprised to see such an incredible voice come from such a small girl. She even
looked
like an angel: A petite blonde with porcelain skin and eyes so green, he saw the color clearly from across the room. Her features were delicate and defined, her skin tanned from the summer.

He waved Mickey down the hall towards him. Mickey grumbled about being hungry, but approached.

“Whoa,” Mickey said as he spotted her. “She’s gotta be new. I’d definitely remember her.”

Jayden studied her, as struck by her as he was the instinct she didn’t really fit in at a school that cost fifty thousand a year and required an endorsement from someone on the board. She wore the school uniform of skirt, white shirt, and vest, but it was clearly second hand. The clothes were faded and too baggy to fit her. Her nails were a cheerful pink, and her make-up subdued, just enough to give her bow-shaped lips color and her feathery eyelashes definition. Wispy white-blonde hair that appeared soft enough to touch even from the distance was in a ponytail that reached midway down her back.

Chances were, she was there on a scholarship of some sort, and he could easily hear why.

She was exactly what he didn’t need in his life this year.

“You’re looking at her the way I look at your step sis.” Mickey laughed loudly enough that both student and instructor glanced towards the door. The girl flushed, as if she thought they had the nerve to laugh at someone who sang like she did. The heightened color in her cheeks magnified the clear green depths of her eyes.

“Come on. We’ve gotta get breakfast,” Mickey said, slapping his arm.

His stomach rumbling, Jayden trailed him. The elite academy was small enough that he’d run into the singing angel again sometime today for certain.

They wolfed down breakfast burritos on their way to their first class. The adrenaline from the morning wore off too fast, and Jayden struggled to stay awake for the first two periods. He hit the Coffee Corner midmorning and bumped fists with the football players he ran across in the hallway. They all looked like they were dragging.

By lunchtime, he’d forgotten the girl, focusing his tired mind on surviving the day instead. He was out of it enough that he didn’t notice Kimmie until he closed his locker.

“Oh,” he said, trying to soften his surprise. “Hi, Kimmie.”

“Hey.” Three members of her cheer squad were lined up behind her. “You ignored my phone call last night.”

“No, I was dealing with some things with my mom,” he replied through gritted teeth. “You know how that can be.”

“So you couldn’t call me back this morning?”

“I had football practice at five-thirty.”

She crossed her arms, disbelieving. “Well, we need to talk. Homecoming is next weekend, and…”

Drama. The reason he’d dumped her.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw the angel walk by. Jayden’s whole perspective shifted. He no longer felt tired or stressed; he felt invigorated and drawn to her. She was headed towards the cafeteria.

“…talk.” Kimmie finished.

Jayden had no clue what she said. “We’ll talk later,” he replied.

“Promise? After school?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Kimmie appeared appeased, and Jayden suspected he’d somehow agreed to more than he meant to. Her arms uncrossed, and she smiled. She moved away with her gang of cheer friends. Jayden waited until they were down the hallway before starting towards the cafeteria.

When he arrived, he saw the angel was gone again. She wasn’t in line at any of the trendy restaurants or seated in the food court area. If Mickey hadn’t seen her this morning, he might’ve guessed she was a ghost.

Disappointed, he went to his favorite spot and ordered. While he waited, he went to the soda fountains. Jayden turned to leave and smashed straight into the girl he’d been looking for. Her food went flying. She was headed for the ground as well, but he caught her against him with the instinctive agility that made Coach Higgins proud. Her small gasp, the scent of vanilla and French fries, the warmth of her small frame…

She looked up, her eyes even prettier up close than he expected. They were as flawless as the rest of her. For a moment, they were frozen in their own world.