My Name Is Evil (8 page)

“Did she lose her balance?” Deena asked, shaking her head. “Did she just spin out of control?”

Holding one hand over my mouth, I stared down at my friend in silence. A heavy feeling of dread rolled over me. My stomach lurched.

“Is—is she breathing?” The question escaped my lips without my realizing it.

Ms. Masters was down on the floor, bending over Jilly. “Yes, she's breathing,” she answered. “Open your eyes, Jilly. Can you open your eyes?”

My eyes moved to Jilly's feet. Her right foot was swelling like a balloon.

My stomach lurched again. I felt really sick.

I swallowed hard several times, forcing my dinner back down.

“Somebody call for an ambulance,” Ms. Masters instructed.

“I have a cell phone,” Marci said. She ran to get her bag.

“Jilly? Can you hear me?” Ms. Masters asked softly. “Can you open your eyes?”

Jilly finally stirred.

A dry, hacking sound burst from her lips. A gob of saliva ran out of her open mouth, down her cheek.

“Jilly?” Ms. Masters called. “Jilly? Can you hear me?”

Jilly groaned. She blinked several times. “It … hurts,” she whispered. She moved a hand to her rib cage—then quickly jerked it away. “Ohhhh.”

“Lie still,” Ms. Masters said. “You might have broken a rib when you crashed into the wall.”

Jilly sighed. “Wall?”

“You were spinning so hard,” Ms. Masters said. “You lost control and—”

Jilly groaned again. “My foot. I … I can't move it.”

“Don't try to move anything,” the teacher said. “We'll get you to the hospital. You're going to be okay.”

“What … happened?” Jilly asked groggily. And then suddenly her expression changed. She uttered a sharp gasp as she saw me. Saw me standing there so tensely, my hand still clapped over my mouth.

“Maggie!” she cried hoarsely.

I started toward her, but her cold, angry eyes made me stop.

“Maggie.” As she repeated my name, her face twisted in disgust. “You did this!”

“N-no—!” I stammered.

Jilly pointed an accusing finger at me. “I don't know how, but you did this.”

Marci and Deena were staring at me.

“Jilly, lie still.” Ms. Masters patted Jilly's hand. “I think you've had a concussion. You're confused. No one did anything to you, dear.”

“Just like Glen and the lawn mower,” Jilly whispered, her finger trembling in the air. “Jackie told me what happened with Glen's lawn mower. The fortune-teller was right. You're evil! You're EVIL!”

“Don't say that!” I screamed. “Jilly—don't! It's not true! You know it's not true! It can't be true! Don't say that!”

Jilly shut her eyes and uttered a moan of pain. “You did this to me! You did it, Maggie!” she whispered.

Her words made everyone turn to me. They were staring at me.

Staring at me as if Jilly had told the truth. As if I really had caused horrible things to happen.

As if I really was evil.

And then, I couldn't hold back. I couldn't hold my hurt, my anger in.

I began screaming at the top of my lungs. Shrieking like an insane person. Screaming at them all:

“I'm not evil! I'm not! I'm not! I'm not!”

A few minutes later the paramedics arrived to take Jilly to the hospital. Ms. Masters hurried out to the hall to phone the Mullens.

Marci and Deena got changed quickly, whispering to themselves. They would have to audition some other time. They kept glancing over at me, but they didn't talk to me.

I changed into my shoes and pulled a jacket over my leotard and tights. I just wanted to get out of there. To get away from their whispers and suspicious looks.

How could Jilly say such a thing about me? How could she blame me like that?

We've been friends since fourth grade. She knows me so well.

She knows I wouldn't hurt her.

I stared at my hands. They didn't burn anymore.

Why did that happen again? I wondered.

Every time my hands start to burn, something terrible happens. Every time. But that doesn't mean I'm causing these things to happen—does it?

I shoved my hands into my pockets. I didn't want to think about that. I jumped down from the stage and ran up the auditorium aisle to the exit. I couldn't wait to get home, to the safety of my room.

But Ms. Masters stopped me in the hall. She put a hand on my shoulder. “Jilly was just upset,” she said softly. “She didn't mean the crazy things she said.”

“I … I know,” I whispered.

“She must have been in shock,” Ms. Masters said. “That's the only explanation.”

I nodded.

“Try to put it out of your mind, Maggie. Jilly probably won't even remember she said those things later.”

“Probably,” I repeated. I grabbed her arm. “But what did happen out there, Ms. Masters? Why did Jilly spin out of control like that?”

My voice shook. “It … it was so horrible … so frightening. It really looked as if … as if some force was controlling her!”

Ms. Masters shook her head. “I'm not sure what happened, Maggie. I think I'm still in shock, too.”

She patted my shoulder. “I guess this means you'll be in the dance company. Deena and Marci will have their auditions. But they're not at your level. I'd say congratulations. But I know you're upset about your friend.”

“Yes.” I nodded again.

A thin smile crossed the teacher's face. “Well, congratulations anyway. We'll celebrate some other time, okay?”

“Thanks, Ms. Masters.” I turned and jogged away.

“Try not to think about what Jilly said,” she called after me. “She was in shock. I'm sure she'll apologize when she's better.”

“Sure,” I muttered.

And then I was out of the building. Into the cold, fresh night air. Pale silver moonlight washed over the school grounds. Dead leaves danced across the grass.

I felt like tossing back my head and screaming. I felt like crying.

Instead, I lowered my head into the wind and started running. I didn't go far. I was almost to the corner when I ran right into someone.

“Hey—!” He uttered a startled cry and leaped to the side. “Slow down.”

“Glen!” I cried. “What are you doing here?”

He pushed back his wild mop of hair and smiled at me. “Wow. You should try out for track, Maggie.”

“Sorry. I didn't see you. I—I wasn't watching. I mean … what are you doing here?” I repeated breathlessly.

“Following you,” he said.

I gaped at him. “Huh?”

He laughed. “No. I'm kidding. I was down the block, collecting money from people. For mowing their lawns. And I remembered you had that dance thing tonight. So I thought—”

“Don't ask me about it,” I said, shuddering. “It was horrible.” I started to walk, heading toward home.

He hurried to keep up with me. “You didn't get in?”

“I did get in,” I replied. “But—but—” And then I blurted it out. “Jilly got hurt, and she blamed me.”

He jumped in front of me to block my path. “Whoa. What happened? You tripped her or something?”

“No. I didn't push her,” I said. My voice trembled. I felt about to cry again. “I didn't push her. But she broke her ankle, and she blamed me. Just like this morning at school. She fell down the stairs and blamed me for that. I didn't push her. Really!”

Glen knotted up his face, trying to sort out what I was saying. “Twice in one day?” he said. “She got hurt twice today? Twice before the dance tryout? And you were there both times?”

“Y-yes,” I said. “But I never touched her. That's the truth.”

He stared hard at me.

“You believe me—don't you?” I demanded. “Don't you?”

He lowered his eyes. “Of course,” he said. “I believe you.”

But something in his voice had changed. He wasn't looking at me. He suddenly seemed nervous.

He doesn't believe me, I realized.

He thinks that Jilly getting hurt twice in one day is too big a coincidence.

But it was a coincidence. I know it was.

A cold blast of wind made the trees shift and creak. Leaves showered down all around us. I shivered, suddenly feeling cold, so cold all over.

“Jilly is my good friend,” I said. “I would never hurt her. No way.”

“Of course not,” Glen said. But he still avoided my eyes.

“I—I've got to get home,” I said. I took off, running hard. “Later.”

“Later,” he called after me.

I ran about half a block and stopped at the corner. When I turned around, I saw that Glen hadn't moved. He was still standing there in front of the school, hands shoved in his pockets, watching me, staring hard at me.

And even from so far away, I could see the unhappy, troubled look on his face.

I didn't go home. I went to Jilly's house instead.

I knew that Jilly's parents were probably on their way to the hospital. But I wanted to tell Jackie and Judy what had happened.

Judy opened the door. Her eyes were red-rimmed. She looked as if she'd been crying. “What a horrible night. Mom, Dad, and Jackie are on their way to Cedar Bay General,” she said in a rush. “Maggie—what happened? Is Jilly going to be okay?”

“Yes,” I said, stepping past her into the house. The house smelled of fried onions. I heard the dishwasher chugging away in the kitchen. Judy had her homework spread out all over the living room floor. “Her ankle was really swollen. It's probably broken. But she should be okay.”

Judy started pacing the living room tensely. “But what happened? Did she slip or something?”

I sighed. I still felt so cold. I decided to keep my coat on. “It's hard to explain. It was totally weird, Judy. She just started spinning. It wasn't part of the dance or anything. She was spinning and … I guess she lost control.”

Judy shook her head. “Poor Jilly. She worked so hard for this.”

I dropped down heavily into an armchair. “She might have cracked some ribs, too,” I added softly.

Judy grabbed her side, as if feeling Jilly's pain. “Wow. I—I should have gone to the hospital. I didn't know it was so bad.”

I nodded. I didn't know what else to say.

Should I tell Judy that her sister blamed me for the whole thing? That she accused me of using my evil powers on her?

No, I decided.

Ms. Masters was right. Jilly was in shock. She didn't know what she was saying.

Judy suddenly stopped pacing. Her expression changed. She crossed the room and sat down on the arm of my chair. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah. Sure,” I said.

Judy's dark eyes locked on mine. “Remember when you were over here yesterday and you were petting Plumper?”

“Of course,” I replied. “How could I forget it? I was so shocked. First the cat goes psycho. Then he decides he likes me.”

Judy swallowed. She continued to stare at me. “Well, were you wearing any weird kind of lotion or cream or anything on your hands?”

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You know. You're always trying new cosmetics, right? So did you have anything on your hands yesterday? Some kind of hand cream?”

“No. No way,” I said. I gazed up at Judy, bewildered. “Why?”

Judy frowned. “I'll show you,” she said. She slid off the chair arm and disappeared from the room.

A few seconds later she returned carrying Plumper in both arms like a baby. The big cat lay limply in her arms.

I climbed to my feet. I could tell instantly that something was weird. He never let Judy carry him around.

“Did you wash your hands in some new kind of soap?” Judy asked. “Think hard. Did you touch anything strange in chemistry lab yesterday?”

I shook my head. “No way. What is the problem?”

“Look at him,” Judy replied, setting Plumper down on the floor.

I let out a gasp when I saw the cat's back. It took me a while to realize that the wide stripe I stared at was yellow-pink-splotched skin. Bare cat skin. Skin where the thick, orange fur had been.

“Look at that,” Judy said sadly. “All the fur on his back. It all fell out after you left, Maggie. In big clumps. It just all fell out. Only where you touched him …”