Little Spark

42 - Crumbling Foundations

By Wednesday, the news of Luca's "disappearance" has spread to the masses. Which means sitting next to Candis in class is the equivalent of sitting next to a porcupine ice sculpture; her revulsion is so intense, just stepping into the same room feels like impaling myself on her frozen quills.

Luca—who I spent the last two afternoons with down in Corndog Mumson—tells me Candis thinks Luca's being tortured somewhere and blames me because of my affiliation with Reign. As I sit here next to Candis feeling like a bad case of toenail fungus, I really just want to grab her by the shoulders and shake her and tell her how wrong she is about everything.

But I can't. Not yet at least.

Luca hasn't been able to sense anything with regard to Oskur's psycho room of death, so we've come to the conclusion that they best way for me to thwart his murderous scheme is to finish the Little Spark before the December 6thdeadline (which is like a month and a week from now). I've spent a good chunk of my time with her deliberately napping, searching the house in my dreams for the next clue. Nothing so far.

The sound of the bell startles me, and my chemistry book goes crashing to the floor. I glance over at Candis, and feel an ache in the part of my heart Reign hasn't usurped yet. I still really need to talk to her about everything but Luca. There's not a whole lot we could discuss right now—school isn't the place to tell her what I've learned since Friday morning—but I need her to agree to meet me. I squat to retrieve my book as I wrack my brain for what to say.

A pair of gnarly feet appears in front of me. I marvel at the sandals—an odd footwear choice considering the nippy autumn temperatures—whose straps are so tight, foot-meat bulges through every open space. The unfortunate looking toes not only overlap the edge of the shoe by at least a quarter inch, but also appear to be turning blue from a lack of circulation.

Cringing, I look up and frown as Lylah's crossed arms, pudgy face and poufy, lie-filled hair come into focus. I inhale a cloud of the retch-inducing perfume she bathed in this morning, and my breakfast churns in my stomach.

"Umm, hi?" I say, both surprised and concerned by her sudden willingness to approach me. She's been avoiding me since the Crypt incident.

"I saw you in the woods with Reign on Friday." She smirks. My heart omits a beat. I peek over my shoulder and find Candis glaring at the table.

But wait... If Lylah saw us in the woods, she must have also skipped school on Friday. When I shift my focus back to her bright blue eyes, dramatically accentuated by heavy black eyeliner and fake lashes, I get slammed with a flood of memories: a dream of a blue-eyed someone following Reign and me to the house and breaking the vase while we were upstairs; that same blue-eyed someone appearing in the dream of two Reigns, watching things unfold; waking up to a weight on my chest and a set of blue eyes staring at me... They're the same color blue as the eyes of the unfortunate looking girl snidely looming over me in too small shoes.

Lylah is the one who's been trailing me. And now she's throwing a wrench in my plan to get Candis to talk to me.

I have to beat her at her own game.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Lylah," I say, grabbing my book.

"Oh, don't play dumb with me, Bam. It's beneath you."

I stand. Even with her five-inch, foot-death sandals, she barely reaches my chin.

"Now you're beneath me, Lie-a-lot."

"Whatever," she snarls. "I just wanted to tell you, you should really think twice about hanging out with him. He's always had a taste for forbidden fruit." She looks me over lasciviously and, for a moment, it seems like Duff has disguised himself as a short, ugly, gossipmonger-y girl. "He usually gets what he wants, and it never ends well for girls like you." She eyes the white pendant dangling from my neck. I wonder if she knows he gave it to me. If I didn't know better, I'd think she was a little jealous.