From Bad to Cursed

Her tone was silky, hypnotic. I drifted to the bookshelves and looked at the picture of Aralt’s girls again. This time, my eyes had leisure to wander across each of the faces, ending up on the angelic face of a pretty, ta

She could have been sixteen or twenty-five—it was so hard to tell in old pictures.

But I knew the face.

It was Tashi.

“Are you ready?” Farrin asked, hanging up the phone.

“Actually,” I said, “I…”

She came over to me and, in a gesture that felt almost maternal, tucked my hair behind my ear. “Of course you’re ready, Alexis.”

I felt myself smiling. “Yes,” I said. Of course I was ready.

WE WENT THROUGH my film from the football game and printed two pictures for the final interview. I wondered what Jared would say if he knew I had Farrin’s help.

But then, Farrin was really the least of my advantages, wasn’t she?

Carter called a few times. I let the calls go to voice-mail. When I got home, I found that he’d left two messages at the house, but they were lighthearted “call if you get a chance” messages, so I wasn’t worried.

I lay in bed that night, staring at the clock for a while before drifting into a light sleep. I’d always been a solid-eight-hours kind of girl, but that wasn’t the case anymore. Now I basically had to force myself to stay in bed if I’d gotten more than five. In the begi

I awoke suddenly at the sound of a light click. My feet hit the floor, and my eyes hit the numbers on the clock—2:17—and I was on my way to the hall when I ran into something:

A box.

It was the size of a shoe box, but taller, wrapped in silver paper with a silky pink ribbon tied around it.

I froze and looked around my room—suddenly realizing how many pockets of darkness were hidden amid the furniture.

“Hello?” I whispered.

No one answered.

Lightly pushing the box out of the way with my foot, I reached for my bedroom door and pulled it open.

My breath felt as shallow as a bird’s as I walked down the hall. From the end of the hallway, the main room seemed vast and empty. I switched on the lights and looked around.

Finally, I went back toward my room, stepping inside and reaching down to move the box.

It was gone.

I straightened up. And someone grabbed my shoulder.

A yelp almost escaped my mouth when I heard a familiar voice in my ear.

“Don’t be frightened…it’s just me.”

“Carter?” I whispered, spi

“I came to drop this off,” he said, passing the gift to me. His wide blue eyes seemed to track even my tiniest movements. “I didn’t think you’d wake up.”

“How did you get inside?” I asked, plunking the package gracelessly on the bed.

“I have a spare key, remember?” he asked.

“That’s for emergencies!”

“This is an emergency,” he said, giving me a mischievous smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “A happy emergency.”

I couldn’t think of anything to say.

“Aren’t you going to unwrap it?” he asked.

My mouth open in disbelief, I sank onto the bed and helplessly reached for the box. I knew what it was as soon as I peeled the paper off: a digital camera. A really nice one. More megapixels even than Daffodil/Delilah’s.

For about thirty seconds I couldn’t speak. All I could do was stare.

“What is this?” I asked.

“It’s a blender,” he said. “What does it look like?”

“No, but I mean…where did you get it?” Based on the miniscule research I’d done when I signed up for photography class, I estimated this camera’s cost in the twelve- to fifteen-hundred-dollar range.

“Jeff’s Cameras, out on Langford Street,” he said. His expression was alert but oddly unchanging, like a mask or a ma

His straightforward answers set sirens wailing in my head. “Carter,” I said. “Why did you bring this here?”

Finally I’d stumped him. “Because…it’s…for you.”

“You bought this?” I asked. He nodded. “With what money?”

“I have a savings account,” he said. “Don’t worry. I still have plenty of money. I can buy you whatever you want, Lex.”

Oh my God.

Oh my God oh my God oh my God.

“I can’t accept this,” I said, shoving the box into his hands. “This is not okay. You have to take it back. And you have to leave right now, before my parents wake up.”

He took the box and gave me a quirky smile. “I watched you sleep for a couple of minutes. You’re really pretty when you sleep.”

The air between us seemed to waver.

“You can’t do this,” I said, my voice hardly more than a breath. “Please. You have to go. You can’t come here. You can’t”—I could hardly say it—“watch me sleep.”

For the first time, he seemed bothered by what I was saying. His forehead wrinkled.

“I brought you a very nice gift,” he said, an impatient, childish edge creeping into his voice. “And you didn’t even say thank you.”

“Thank you,” I said. “Now you have to go.”

His lip curled in a

“Thank you,” I said, to stem the rising volume of his voice. “Thank you, Carter, it was very sweet.”

It worked well enough—barely. He was still agitated as I steered him down the hallway and opened the front door.

“You have to go,” I said. “Please take the camera with you.”

He gazed down at it, expressionless.

“And you have to give me the key back, Carter,” I said. “You can’t do stuff like this.”

His face fell, but he reached into his pocket and pulled out his key chain. He unhooked the key from it and handed it to me.

“Never again,” I said. “I mean it.”

“Do you want a ride to school in the morning?” he asked. “I can drive you.”

“Megan takes me to school,” I said. “You know that.”

“But I’m your boyfriend,” he said. “You always see Megan. And you’re too busy for me.”

“Fine,” I said. “Whatever. I don’t care.”

He smiled, finally happy again. Then he held out the box. “But this is for you.”

“No,” I said. “I don’t want it. Take it back. Please.”

“Fine,” he said, heading toward his car, which he’d parked in the driveway. But he didn’t stop at the driver’s door. He went around the back and set the box on the ground behind one of the tires.

“What are you doing?” I followed him down the driveway.

“I don’t need a camera,” he said, climbing into the car and turning it on. “And now you won’t have to worry about it.”

He was going to destroy it?

“Come on, don’t,” I said, looking through his open window. “This is crazy!”

He shifted into reverse.

“Stop it, Carter!” I cried.

He paused, then spoke to me as if I were a kid who needed to be taught a lesson. “Then go pick it up, Lex. I told you—it doesn’t make a difference to me.”

I hesitated, then ran to the back of the car and swiped the box to safety. I held it, panting, as Carter backed smoothly out onto the road.

He watched me walk to the front door, then blew me a kiss and drove away.

I lay in bed, fully dressed, staring at the ceiling. I’d tucked the camera between the bed and the wall and tried to go back to sleep, but my ability to do so had apparently left the building with Carter. Not that I was tired.

Except for all the obvious reasons why I knew I shouldn’t feel fine, I felt fine.

Dad came to the door. “Are you all right?”

“Fine,” I said.

“Do you have a meeting this morning or something?”