Chapter Three
I was nervous as I sat in the waiting room of Manchester General Hospital, waiting for news – any news – on Andrea’s condition. After she’d fallen, everything seemed to happen in a blur. I grabbed my cell phone and ran out of the school, trying to get reception. But by the time I got on the phone with a 9-1-1 operator, the police had already been called. Soon, the school was swarmed with cop cars, ambulances, even a fire truck with the siren blaring.
Monica had refused to come with me to the hospital. “I have to get home and start writing this,” she’d said, sniffing and holding her chin high in the air. “I missed a lot of work when I wasn’t in school, and it’s not like I can let my grades slip.”
Her reaction hadn’t exactly surprised me, but I couldn’t help feeling a little sad. It was strange. I didn’t really like Andrea, especially not after how I’d seen her act around Steven, but I felt like all people deserved a basic level of compassion after getting hurt so badly. Especially, because I still wasn’t sure how it had all happened. When I thought about it, everything seemed like a blur. I could close my eyes and try to envision Andrea flying through the air, but it seemed impossible – like my mind was playing tricks on me. I knew it was impossible: people didn’t fly.
But then what the hell had happened?
Mr. and Mrs. D’Amico were in the waiting room, too, with Steven and a handful of relatives I’d never met. I was surprised that more kids from school hadn’t shown up. A couple of years before, I’d been in a minor car accident with my mom and I’d needed four stiches. I’d been shocked that practically everyone from school had shown up to see me, even though I’d never been popular. I remember thinking at the time that everything was about to change. Surely, when I went back to school, I’d have loads of new friends.
But nothing changed. People forgot, and time went on, and I stayed as unpopular as ever.
So, it shocked me then that no one was there to see Andrea, especially considering the mysterious circumstances of her accident. After the ambulance had taken her away, the principal had called Monica and me into his office and asked us questions. But Monica hadn’t been much help, and obviously, I wasn’t either. It was weird. Why had Andrea fallen like that? She landed at least ten feet away from where we’d all been standing.
It was all very strange to consider.
After an hour of waiting, a doctor poked his head into the waiting room and called for Andrea’s parents. They went in to see her, white-faced and tight-lipped, without even acknowledging me.
An older woman wearing a crocheted sweater and a large, wooden crucifix scooted close to me and smiled benignly.
“Are you one of Andrea’s little friends from school?”
I nodded. “Yeah,” I said. “We’re in the same grade.”
“How sweet that you came to see her,” the woman said, beaming. “I’m her Aunt Claire.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said warily.
“What’s your name?”
A flash of panic went through me. Obviously, this woman had no idea who I was, but she was nosy enough to keep prying. I felt embarrassed to admit it, but I didn’t want her to know that I’d been in the room when Andrea had gotten hurt.
Thankfully, at that moment, Mrs. D’Amico called for me.
“Sorry,” I lied, jumping up from the uncomfortably hard, plastic bucket seat and racing into the hall.
“She’s very heavily sedated,” Mrs. D’Amico told me. Her forehead was creased with worry. “I think you can go in, but just for a few minutes.”
“Thanks,” I said nervously. As quietly as I could, I slipped into the hospital room and shut the door behind me. I could hear Mr. and Mrs. D’Amico whispering in the hall, and I prayed under my breath that Andrea would stay calm.
Andrea looked terrible. Her leg was up in traction and there was a bulky, pink cast stretching from her hip to her foot. Her face was pale, and her hair clung to her forehead in greasy strands. When she saw me, she narrowed her eyes.
“Andrea, I just wanted to say that I’m really sorry,” I said quickly. “I won’t stay long, but I wanted you to know that I feel really bad.”
Andrea sniffed. Under the florescent lighting of the hospital, she looked almost green.
“Get out, Elizabeth,” Andrea said quietly. “I don’t want to see you right now.”
“Just hear me out,” I begged. “Andrea, Monica’s really, really sorry. She never wanted anything like this to happen, and it’s not like she caused it–”
“Get out!” Andrea shrieked. Her voice was so loud that it pierced my eardrums. She glared at me, narrowing her eyes and crying out. “Get out! Get out!” Andrea’s rage dissolved into a fit of sobs, and after just a second, she was crying so hard that I could tell she was having trouble breathing. My heart was beating a rapid staccato in my chest, and my hand was shaking as I reached for the box of tissues at her bedside table.
“Andrea, please,” I begged. “You have to know sorry we are, both of us–”
“Shut up!” Andrea screeched. “Get out!”
The door opened, and Mrs. D’Amico gazed at her daughter and then at me with clear alarm. She grabbed my shoulder and yanked me into the hall.
“What did you say to her?” Mrs. D’Amico demanded. “What the H is going on, Elizabeth?”
Angrily, I pulled free of her grip and ran down the hall until my lungs ached. I couldn’t concentrate, I couldn’t think. My mind was spinning, and I had absolutely no idea what to do. Fear and anger welled up inside of me, and I stood for a moment, panting and resting with my hand against the hospital doors.
I had to find out what was really going on.
I had to go talk to Monica.
On the bus home from Manchester, my mind was swirling and reeling. I tried calling Monica to ask if she was home, but she didn’t answer. For the first time that day, I felt a flash of anger toward my friend. ‘She’s being a coward,’ I thought. ‘She should’ve come with me to the hospital, and she knows it. She knows it!’ And yet, at the same time, I couldn’t explain it. I knew rationally that Monica couldn’t have had anything to do with Andrea breaking her leg. I never saw Monica even lift a finger toward Andrea, and besides, someone as small as Monica couldn’t have even thrown a baseball ten feet, let alone another teenager.
Andrea had broken her leg in two places, and the doctor had mentioned that she was going to be in a cast for months. I shuddered when I thought about her lying helpless and small in that dull hospital room. I hadn’t felt very warm toward Andrea since the séance incident, but I couldn’t help but pity her now. It wasn’t her fault that she was so…devout. And sooner or later, Monica was going to have to apologize.
The confusion was killing me.
By the time I got back to Jaffrey, it was dark and cold. I ran all the way from the bus stop to Monica’s house on the outskirts of town. The lights were on and music was blaring loudly from the living room. I had to knock three times before the door opened.
Jamie was standing there in a casual sweater and jeans. She smiled when she saw me, and I couldn’t help flinching.
“Hi,” I said quickly. “I really need to talk to Monica.”
“Come in, Elizabeth,” Jamie said. She opened the door widely and smiled. “You hungry?”
My stomach felt like a toothpaste tube squeezed empty, but I knew that if I even smelled food, I was likely to throw up. I shook my head.
“No, thanks,” I told her. “Is Monica here?”
Jamie didn’t reply. “Brian and I were in the dining room,” she said. “Come talk to us. We haven’t seen you around in a while.”
I nodded. ‘Yeah,’ I thought as I walked slowly behind Jamie into the bright house, ‘because your daughter vanished, and you didn’t even give a fuck.’
Brian was sitting at the dining room table, papers spread out in front of him. He had that exact same intense look that Monica had worn that afternoon in the library. He didn’t even glance up when he saw me. It wasn’t until I’d sat down across from him that he finally seemed to acknowledge my presence.
“Hey, Elizabeth,” Brian said. He smiled easily. “Haven’t seen you in a while. Thought you might be jealous of that boyfriend, or something.” He laughed.
Jamie joined in, and I forced an awkward smile as Monica’s parents hooted with laughter.
“Uh, yeah,” I said quickly. “I mean, no, I’m not jealous of David.”
“When Jamie and I got together, her sister acted like a real banshee,” Brian said. He smirked. “Remember that, hon?”
“She was jealous,” Jamie said. She nodded. “Probably because she wasn’t used to anyone getting attention but herself,” she added. “Elizabeth, I wouldn’t worry. I know Monica isn’t really serious about that boy.”
I smiled tightly and swallowed. “Right,” I said. “Look, I really need to talk to Monica. Is she home?”
Jamie and Brian glanced at each other and shrugged. “Not that I know of,” Jamie said. “Did you try calling her?”
My heart sank. I didn’t want to think the worst, but I couldn’t help feeling like it was the weekend after the party all over again. Just what exactly was going on here?
“Can I look upstairs?”
Jamie laughed. “Sure,” she said. “But Elizabeth, I really don’t think she’s here. She told me she was going out for a while.”
I slumped. “Do you know if she’s with David?”
Jamie laughed again. “Elizabeth, if I tried keeping up with Monica’s schedule, I’d completely lose my mind. You know her.”
I squinted. “I don’t even know what that means,” I said dumbly.
“I’m sure she’ll be back soon,” Brian said. “She told me she has plans this weekend.”
I sighed. “Did…did she mention anything about today? Like, at school?”
“No,” Jamie said. She looked interested for the first time since I’d gotten there. “Why? What happened?”
I sighed. “I don’t really know,” I said slowly. “We were in the library, and Andrea came in–”
“That D’Amico girl?” Jamie narrowed her eyes. “The one who flipped out last year after that silly little thing?”
I nodded miserably. “Yeah,” I said. “Anyway, she came in to talk to Monica and um, something happened. I don’t really know what, but Andrea got hurt. She’s in the hospital in Manchester. Her leg is broken in two places.”
Jamie’s eyes widened. “You’re not saying Monica had anything to do with that, are you?”
I shook my head quickly. “No,” I said. “I just wanted to talk to her, that’s all. She kind of ran off after we finished talking to the principal.”
“Is Monica in trouble at school, Elizabeth?” Brian glanced up from his work, looking almost exactly like Monica when she eyed me over the rims of her glasses.
“No,” I said quickly. “I mean, at least as far as I know. She’s fine. I just really want to talk to her, that’s all.”
Jamie shrugged. “She probably feels terrible,” she said. “I mean, what a bad accident to happen to that girl,” she added. “But I know Monica didn’t have anything to do with that.”
“I’m not saying she did,” I replied. “I just think it’s…I don’t know, odd. That’s all.”
Jamie shrugged. “You kids all have so much energy,” she said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if it was some kind of psychic poltergeist thing.”
I narrowed my eyes, but Brian laughed.
“Elizabeth, here you go. That’s some real seventies psychology,” he said. He snickered. “My wife, the counselor.”
I stood up and shifted my weight from one foot to the other. “I’m gonna go,” I said. “Could you tell Monica to call me back when she gets home?”
But Jamie and Brian weren’t even listening; they were sharing some anecdote from their days back in college, about poltergeists and teenagers. I rolled my eyes and slunk out of their dining room, feeling more unsatisfied than ever.
When I left Monica’s, I had no idea where to go. I wandered aimlessly for over an hour before I realized the D’Amicos were likely still at the hospital. ‘I should go to talk to Steven,’ I thought, my stomach churning with anxiety. ‘Maybe he can at least tell me what he said to Andrea.’
I was still winded from running so much earlier, but it felt like the walk over to Steven’s house took no time at all. When I got there, I was almost disappointed when he opened the door. Then I realized that it was just because I was worried that he was angry with me.
But Steven didn’t look angry – just nervous. He leaned down and kissed my cheek, sending a small thrill down my spine. It felt inappropriate at a time like this, but I was glad that he was showing me affection.
“Hey,” I said.
“What’s up?” Steven nodded for me to follow him inside. Together, we sat in the D’Amicos’ living room, and Steven brought us bottles of cherry-flavored sparkling water from the fridge.
“My mom drinks this stuff all the time,” he said, unscrewing the cap and downing nearly the whole bottle in one go. “I used to hate it, but it’s kind of growing on me.”
I could tell he was nervous. Steven usually didn’t like to waste time with small talk.
“I went to see Andrea in the hospital,” I said. I bit my lip and looked down at my lap. “I want to apologize for Monica, but Andrea didn’t really want to see me.”
Steven nodded. “Look, Elizabeth … what exactly happened in the library? My sister isn’t an old woman, it’s not like she’s just randomly going to fall down and break her hip.”
I sighed and recounted the events again. Even though I’d only told a few people what happened, it seemed like I’d been repeating the story for ages.
“That’s crazy,” Steven said.
I nodded. “It really is,” I said quietly. “I have no idea what happened. It was like, something just picked Andrea up and threw her across the room.”
“And you know for sure it wasn’t Monica?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Are you kidding? She weighs like, eighty pounds soaking wet. Andrea’s heavier than she is. There’s no way Monica could have even lifted someone like that, much less threw them across the room.” I sighed. I couldn’t lie. The fact that Steven was accusing me of lying about Monica stung.
“No, that’s not exactly what I mean,” Steven said slowly. An odd look came over his face. “Elizabeth, I know this sounds crazy…but what if Monica was right?”
My stomach twisted into a mess of knots. “About what?” I asked.
Steven sighed. His cheeks burned pink, and he ran a hand through his messy blond hair. “This sounds so dumb,” he said after a long pause. “I can’t even say it out loud.”
“Come on,” I said. “You started it – you have to tell me now. What’s going on?”
Steven looked incredibly uncomfortable. “I mean, about witches,” he said slowly. “Or like, about reincarnation.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”
Steven held his hands up in the air. “Look, I know it sounds totally crazy,” he said. “And I promise, I’m not losing my mind. But I started thinking the other night, like, what if something is controlling Monica?”
“Controlling her and making her do what?” I asked, even though I was worried I already knew the answer. My heart was thudding, and a strange feeling came over me. I couldn’t believe that Steven and I were seriously having a conversation about whether or not my best friend was a witch.
“You know,” Steven said. He gestured in the air, then took a long swig of sparkling water. “Like, making her act out. Making her disappear. Giving her … I don’t know, giving her powers.”
I stared blankly at Steven. “It sounds completely insane,” I said. “And I don’t believe it. There’s no way anything supernatural is going on here, Steven.” I rolled my eyes. “You sound like Monica right before the party. She wouldn’t shut up about that stupid livestock thing.”
Steven looked offended. “Yeah,” he said. “But then right after the party, she disappeared for the first time. And that’s when all this weird shit started going on.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I don’t know, Elizabeth. It just seems too weird to ignore.”
I frowned. “It is weird,” I said. “But there has to be some kind of rational explanation, right?”
“Or not,” Steven said. He leaned against the couch and crossed his arms. “I know you probably think I’m losing my mind. But I’m really starting to believe it,” he said. “What do you think?”
I frowned. I thought a lot of things. One of them was that Steven was probably crazy. But as stupid as it sounds, I was afraid to disagree with him. I was afraid to speak up, afraid that he’d suddenly decide he didn’t want anything to do with me.
“I don’t know,” I said softly. “I don’t know what I think anymore.”