From Bad to Cursed

He stood there, open-mouthed, as I spun on my heel and sauntered toward the Sunshine Club. He was upset, but I’d deal with it later. At the moment, I had somewhere to be.

I passed by a car and glanced down to catch a glimpse of my reflection in the windows. The words floated into my head:

Hello, beautiful.

By the time we got home after the Sunshine Club meeting, I was sliding headlong into a bad mood.

Mom was standing in the kitchen next to the answering machine.

“Alexis!” she said. “Listen to this!”

She hit the PLAY button. “Friday, two p.m.,” the machine said. “Hello, this is Farrin McAllister, representing the Young Visionaries program. I’m pleased to let you know that Alexis has made the final five and is invited to the mocktail reception Saturday night.”

Mom stopped the playback. “One step closer!” she said. “You’re going to win this. I can feel it.”

“Great,” I said. I knew I should try to be more chipper, but my heart wasn’t in it. I was tired and confused and felt weirdly left out. Aralt was there for everyone except me, it seemed—even when I’d put my relationship on the line to look good for him.

A nagging, worrisome thought had been born in my head during the meeting—what if Aralt didn’t want me and Carter to be together? What if he felt my having a boyfriend was too much of a distraction?

Mom came closer and pulled me into a hug. “Maybe this change is the right thing for you. You’re going to knock their socks off when you walk in there.”

“You think so?” I asked. I felt vaguely disappointed. I almost wished Mom hadn’t come around so easily. I wanted Carter to fall all over himself, but there was a degree of comfort in having your mother insist you’re perfect the way you were.

* * *

All through the celebratory di

When we got home, I decided enough was enough. It was time to take action. I waited until Kasey went into the bathroom for her shower, then I sneaked into her bedroom and dug around under the piles of dirty clothes in her closet, pulling out the small, flat box with the Ouija board inside it.

My pulse throbbing through my body, I locked my bedroom door and set up the board on the bed. I turned my stereo up loud and then took a few deep, trembling breaths, looking down at the array of letters and numbers in front of me. I didn’t really know where to start.

“Hello?” I asked. “Elspeth?”

No movement. Had the black goo scared her away for good?

Then, just as I was heaving a hopeless sigh, the planchette jerked and began to move. Unlike the last time, when it tottered around the board, this time it practically skidded from letter to letter.

It got as far as D-O-N-O-T-T-R when the board started to emit a sizzling noise. I tried to keep an eye on the black ooze that was bubbling up like tar from the seams, while trying not to miss what Elspeth had to say.

U-S-T

“Who?” I asked, urging her on. “Do not trust who?”

The whole board was now covered in a thin layer of streaky blackness, like the first layer of black paint on a white wall. The little wooden triangle rocked and wobbled as it moved across the uneven surface to the m.

Then it hobbled left to the e.

Just teasing. Do not trust me.

I was begi

Again, the black substance converged on the pointer, stopping it in its tracks. This time, though, it didn’t converge and disappear. It grew up around the planchette like a second skin.

Then it began to move again, more smoothly than before. The letters were still barely visible.

A-L-E-X

It was spelling my name.

It knows my name.

Before I could stop myself, I slammed my hands down on top of the pointer, blackness and all.

A massive charge of energy moved through my body like a shock wave. It was like when you see a dog thrash a toy by shaking its head—I was like the toy in that equation, even though my body hadn’t actually moved.

Under my fingers, the pointer continued on its way.

I-S-I-A-M-H-E-R-E-F-O-R-Y-O-U

And then it stopped.

“Who are you?” I asked, my voice as thin as a strand of thread.

Even though I knew.

A-R-A-L-T

I should have knocked it off the bed. I should have snatched my hands away.

I shouldn’t have let it spell that word. And I definitely shouldn’t have let it spell more words.

But I did.

I-W-I-L-L-H-E-L-P-Y-O-U-B-U-T-Y-O-U-M-U-S-T

“Stop!” I didn’t mean to say it. And I didn’t expect Aralt to do it.

But he did. He stopped. Just like that, because I asked, the pointer stopped moving.

I studied it, thinking that maybe…

Maybe Aralt did care what I wanted.

I mean, he listened. How many evil ghosts are good listeners?

“Aralt…?” I lowered my voice and let my fingertips brush against the surface of the board. “What? What do you want me to do?”

L-E-T-G-O

Megan and I spent the better part of Saturday at the mall, where everything I wanted miraculously came up on sale. We struggled through the town house under the weight of the bags, and Megan helped me get dressed for the party. I put on one of my new dresses, cornflower blue and flowing from a gathered neckline. At the waist was a simple band of black velvet. I put on a pair of three-inch velvety black heels while Megan looked on, like an artist studying a painting.

“Smoky eyes,” she said. “Pale lips. Hair up—but deconstructed.”

“Um…I don’t know what that means,” I said.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll handle it.”

Somehow she got my hair up, hiding about a hundred bobby pins in the process. I covered my face and she doused me with hairspray from all 360 degrees.

“See?” she said, like a sales pitch. “Looks natural, feels secure.”

“Feels like chicken wire,” I said. But it did look totally natural. “It’s impressive. I just can’t let anyone touch it.”

She laughed, and then went quiet. “You look gorgeous.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m so proud of you,” she said. “You’re really going to do great things. Isn’t it exciting to think you’re going to have this amazing career?”

I looked up at her. “What do you mean?”

“With Aralt,” she said, sorting through the box of jewelry she’d brought with her. “You can do whatever you want.”

“Why do you say that?” I asked.

She laughed. “Because Aralt cares. He looks out for us.”

“I know he does,” I said. “It’s just…I don’t mean to sound disrespectful, but…do you ever wonder what he gets out of it?”

Megan had found one earring, a big black pearl, and was looking for the match. “What do you get out of taking pictures?”

I thought about it. “I’m creating something.”

She looked at me, an expression of utter peace and trust in her eyes. “Maybe that’s what Aralt’s doing.”

“But he’s just making us pretty.”

She cocked her head. “What are you talking about, Lex? It’s so much more than that. Haven’t you noticed?”

More than that? I thought back over the week.

I’d aced the Young Visionaries interview. I’d gotten nothing less than a hundred percent on every quiz I took, including a chemistry quiz with material I wasn’t really familiar with. I’d quadrupled my speed in the library.

And the dress code thing. And Lydia’s lack of concern for parking rules.

Not to mention that when I got on the scale that morning, I found I’d actually lost three pounds.

“But he wouldn’t give something for nothing. You said so yourself,” I said. “That’s not supposed to be how it works.”

“But I was wrong, Alexis.” She leaned down and took my hands in hers. “I know you’re unsure. But you have to trust. You have to let him help you.”

“I’m trying!” I said.

“You’re not, though,” she said. “You may not even know you’re fighting it, but you are. I know you, Lex. I can see that you’re holding on to something. To fear.”