Imaginary Girls(87)

“That place east on the highway will be,” Ruby said. “Phoenicia Wines. It’s open twenty-four hours.”

“All the way out there?”

“Yes,” Ruby said. “It’s not far. Fifteen minutes to get there, tops, if you speed.”

I expected Owen to argue, but he only nodded, put his arm on London’s shoulder. “Yeah, whatever. Let’s just go.”

“I’m driving,” London insisted as they walked toward the trees.

At first, I thought Ruby wanted Owen out of my face so it would be less painful. But then why didn’t she just tell him to leave, and take London with him?

It wasn’t until Owen and London were in the trees and couldn’t be seen anymore that it hit me. Maybe Ruby didn’t know what she’d done, how dangerous it could be to have London in the driver’s seat if they were headed outside town.

Ruby must have not realized.

I turned to tell her. I turned and saw she knew already. I was sure she did, by the air around her, the heat of it, the energy crackling in it. By the way she stood beside the fire, watched it grow. I knew in the way I knew all things about my sister—without her having to use words to say. She knew exactly what would happen when London drove across the town line into Phoenicia. Hadn’t I told her I’d seen it with my own eyes?

I grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the crowd, toward the water. The reservoir beside us sucked in a breath, listening. “Why’d you do that?” I hissed. “Owen could—The car could—You could kill him.”

“I couldn’t kill him,” she said, palms up in innocence, “I’m not the one driving.”

There was glee in her answer, undisguised delight.

“But—”

“He did something he shouldn’t have, Chlo. He should have known better. He hurt you. No one hurts you. Did you think I’d just let something like that be? Just walk away tonight and do nothing? If you think that, you don’t know me at all.”

“You shouldn’t have let him go.”

She looked at me as if she could see me quite clearly in the dark. “If you’re so worried about him, then why didn’t you stop them, huh?”

“Because . . . because you said.”

“You don’t always do what I say,” she pointed out. “You didn’t wait for me by the car, did you?”

I shook my head.

“And if I told you to swim across the reservoir right now, and bring us back a souvenir while you’re at it—would you?”

We both looked out for the other shore across the way. It was too dark to find it, and the moon had dimmed to nothing and wasn’t helping, but it was out there, we knew. If I swam a straight line from here to the void of blackness ahead, if I stayed down, and kept kicking, I’d make it there sometime. If they didn’t swim up and catch me first.

“No,” I said. “Because you wouldn’t ask me to. Not again. It’s too dangerous.”

She didn’t respond. I took the flashlight from her hands and turned it on toward her face. I saw how she watched the water, warily, as if expecting a serpent thing to come coil a tentacle around her leg. Yet her eyes sparkled at the same time, and her bare leg was out and waiting, as if daring it to grab her, taunting it to try.

She gave me a nudge. “Move back, Chlo. You could fall in.”

I climbed off the rock to the one next to it, farther away from the water.

After a while, she called for me.

“Chlo?” She was only one rock away, but she sounded distant. “What time is it? How long have they been gone?”

I pulled out my cell phone to check the time. Maybe a half hour had passed since Owen and London had left, I wasn’t sure. I told her the time.

She concentrated for a moment on this, and then her eyes shot closed. She sunk down on the hard, cold rock, spent.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I don’t feel so good,” she said. “I’m very, very tired.”

I knew she’d been trying to do something right then, a psychic burst of energy to warp the world her way. But it looked like the strain of it would kill her first.

“Ruby, stop. Sit up.”

She pulled herself up slowly, as if it took great effort.

“Look at my eyes, Chlo. I think I’m getting lines. Can you get wrinkles when you’re only twenty-one? Have you ever heard of such a thing?”