Of the Trees(27)

Of course it wasn’t. It couldn’t be anyway. Still, the confirmation left her feeling relieved.

“Where’d you meet?” Cassie asked. Laney blushed again, taking her focus off the road for a fraction of a second and peeking over at her friend.

“You’re gonna laugh at me,” she admitted. Cassie shook her head, denying it. “Oh, fine! At the cemetery.”

Cassie choked back a laugh, but only just. “Gray Lady?” she asked instead, hastily taking a bite of her bagel. Laney nodded. “When? Yesterday? But you’re already what, going out?”

Laney shrugged, her head tilting in that nervous way she had when she was uncomfortable admitting something. “It was earlier in the week. It’s new,” she said. “Okay, fine, really new. We talked for hours when we first met, and then again yesterday afternoon and something just … we clicked. I really like him. He likes me, too. We’re going to go to homecoming together, and he’ll probably come with us afterward, to the cemetery, I mean. He’s into all of that too, ghosts and things.”

“Okay,” Cassie said, a little overwhelmed by her friend’s rambling. “And you’re happy? This is good?”

Something shifted in Laney’s face, something sacred. She was glowing suddenly, fiercely alert and radiating happiness. “This is good,” she whispered, her tone reverent. “Very good.”

Cassie nodded, sipping her coffee again, carefully to avoid being burned before she replied. “Then, I’m happy for you.”

Laney beamed.

They drove in silence, each finishing their breakfast. Cassie considered telling Laney about yesterday with Ryan, but she balked. She didn’t know how to phrase it, didn’t even really know what it meant. It felt silly, obsessing over one innocent kiss when Laney was so involved last night that she couldn’t even hear her phone ring. She’d see Ryan first, gauge his reaction, and then figure out what she would tell Laney.

They pulled into the parking lot to find a crowd gathered around the outside of the building. Cassie craned her neck to see what they were staring at, but couldn’t see a thing. A couple stragglers wandered in front of Laney’s car, and she honked the horn, gesturing for them to move. One of the guys made a rude gesture with his middle finger that left Laney cursing through the windshield. They pulled into one of the available spaces and grabbed their bags, Laney tossing a pack of gum at Cassie before she pulled her door shut. Cassie popped one of the minty pieces in her mouth and followed Laney across the parking lot.

“Clear out everyone!” Mr. McLean, their assistant principal, shouted. Tall and thin, he resembled a living scarecrow, waving his spindly arms toward the front door. The crowd didn’t shift though, a low murmur pulsing through. Cassie saw the twins, Sara and Stephanie, ahead and she pushed past a group of underclassmen to stand next to them.

“What’s up guys?” she said, looping her arm casually around Sara’s shoulder.

“Oh, hey Captain,” Sara returned brightly. “Not much, admiring the artwork.” Cassie’s attention was drawn to the side of their school before she could correct the younger girl for calling her Captain. In dark red, a large set of eyes had been painted with surprising skill for graffiti. The brows were heavy and oppressive over the eyelids, the irises shaded and multi-faceted in separate tones of red. They stared in a way that caught your attention, forced you to look, and get drawn closer. Under the leering orbs was a hastily scrawled message. The paint was still drying, looked tacky in places, and a large red glop dripped down from the exclamation point.

Join us!

“Join who?” Cassie asked, getting knocked forward as Laney finally fought her way through the crowd to stand behind Cassie. She could feel the grasp of Laney’s fingers on her arm as Laney stood on tiptoe to look over her shoulder. Cassie winced as her friend’s fingers found the fading bruises Ryan had marked her with at the carnival. The spots were yellowing now under her sleeve. Stephanie shrugged.

“No one seems to know,” she said before lowering her voice to a whisper. “We think it’s freaking out Mr. McLean. Like he thinks it’s a gang thing or something.”

Sara snorted. “Yeah, a gang. What should we call ourselves? The back-woods, one-stoplight, dirt-road thugs?”

“I vote for the Hicks,” Stephanie said with a grin. “Simple, direct, really gets to the heart of who we are around here.”

“True, but it doesn’t pay homage to our stop light,” Sara argued. “Do we get to pick a color, too? I vote for teal.”

“Oh, yeah, teal!” Stephanie scoffed. “The color that strikes fear into the fuzziest of caterpillars!”

“The eyes are pretty,” Cassie interrupted, turning for the first time to look at Laney. She was staring up at the graffiti, frowning. “Don’t you think?”

“They’re creepy,” Stephanie said. “It looks like they’re watching me.”

Cassie tilted her head, squinting up at the eyes. She tilted her head the opposite way. They did seem to follow her. Even painted, they looked deep, shadowed in dimension. They reminded her of the eyes she found carved into the tree on her hike with Ryan and a sensation like cold fingers skittered down her spine.

“What do you think it’s painted with?” Laney said in a slow, small voice.