She Walks in Shadows(32)

Asenath laughed in her face. “That’s all it takes to ruin your life?”

“What happened to you, Asenath? You used to be so nice. You used to care about important things, like school and cheering — and what people thought about you.” Veronica shook her head. “Now … it’s like … you just can’t be bothered.”

“What happened to me?” Asenath grinned mirthlessly. “Life happened. The real world intruded on the fantastical dream-lie that is high school. Sorry if that’s inconveniencing you, Veronica. Me? I’m having a great time.”

Veronica rolled her eyes. “So, what — you’re Laura Palmer now?”

“Maybe Bobby Briggs.” Asenath lowered her voice. “I wasn’t the one who went looking for darkness. Somebody … showed it to me.” The taller girl leaned in closer, planting her hand on the lockers behind Veronica, bracing herself on them, looming over her cousin. She smelled like cigarette smoke and peppermint gum. “You don’t know what’s out there, Veronica — the sad thing is, you don’t even know what’s here, in Arkham. You went to Bible Camp, just like your daddy wanted you to … sang your little songs, prayed your little prayers. Well, baby-girl, sing and pray all you want, because it doesn’t f*cking matter.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll tell you what I did on my summer vacation.” Her cousin’s intensity was startling. Her prominent brown eyes were shining like stars as her lips pulled back from her white teeth. Veronica couldn’t help but compare her to the mild-mannered, sweet-tempered girl she had once been. “I looked into a well of absolute darkness, a well without a bottom, full to the brim with writhing whispers blacker than the darkness. I looked — and I listened.”

“What … what was in the well?”

“Laughter. It laughed at me. The darkness, I mean. A hole full of nothing, absolute nothing, and it laughed at me.”

“What did you do?”

Asenath stood up, looking around as if to see if anyone had witnessed her losing her cool. “Doesn’t matter. But I tell you what … after that, I decided to live every day like it was my last, and I advise you to do the same. There’s no heaven. There’s no hell. There’s only you, me and this.” She gestured to the hallway. “The things beyond this world don’t give a shit what you do — if you pray, if you’re good, or if you’re bad, according to some outdated notions of propriety.”

“You don’t sound like yourself,” said Veronica.

Asenath shook her head. “I’ve always been this way. The only thing that’s changed is that I know it’s not worth hiding it.”

The bell rang, and students poured out of the cafeteria. Veronica flinched away from Asenath, instinctively, which made the other girl laugh.

“See you around, Veronica,” she said.



Veronica barely paid attention to her classes the rest of the day. Asenath’s speech had shaken her. What she really needed was a good, hard practice to drive everything from her mind, but of course, Asenath showed up, to everyone’s delight but hers.

Asenath seemed full of a savage fury that day. Her jumps were high, her kicks, higher. The term, ‘flyer,’ had never been so apropos. She seemed to hover above everyone when she was lifted and hang in the air for an unnaturally long time on the dismounts. Ms. Van Helder was so enthusiastic about her prospects toward the end of practice, she suggested Asenath try a scorpion instead of a full liberty after being popped up.

As Asenath executed the move perfectly, Veronica turned away, reminding herself that jealousy was a sin. Uncle Ephraim was sitting on the lowest bleacher. He was always in attendance when Asenath came to practice, gaunt and horrible in his big weird coat, a Miskatonic pennant clutched in his clawlike hands.

After his outburst the first day, he had remained largely silent, hunched into himself and watching them all with unwavering attention, but today, he seemed agitated. He shifted on his seat, twitching. The sight of Asenath in a scorpion further perturbed him. When she fell into the basketed hands of her fellow cheerleaders, he uttered a grotesque, bubbling cry.

Veronica was the only one who heard him, so she was the only one unsurprised when he began to holler and snort as Asenath tried the move a second time. Asenath wobbled and fell; her cohorts caught her, but there was no saving her from the old man’s wrath.

“Thief!” he cried, staggering toward her. “Mine! It’s mine!”

“Asenath,” said Ms. Van Helder, as Asenath stood unsteadily, “are you — is he —”

“It’s fine,” said Asenath, through gritted teeth.

“Thief! Wolf in sheep’s clothing!” The old man drew nearer, but Asenath wasn’t waiting around — she began to advance on him. “Give it back — it’s mine!”

“Shut up!” she snapped, grabbing his arm.

“Mine!” he cried, running his crabbed hand down her smooth arm.

“Maybe it was, but not anymore!” she shouted in his face.

“Asenath, your father’s not well,” said Ms. Van Helder, putting her hand on the girl’s other arm. “You should —”

“Don’t touch me!” cried Asenath, wrenching herself free of both their grasps. Her father, unsteady on his feet, fell to the ground with a heart-wrenching yelp.