“What the fuck is that?” he whispers, and we all squint in the growing dusk at the small bird body in the center of the circle.
“Is that … blood?” I whisper, eyes widening.
“That bird is missing its head,” Church says, crossing his arms over his chest. Ranger kneels down next to the circle of candles and blows the wick out, using the long thick red length of it to poke the bird's body.
“It's not missing its head per se,” he says, wrinkling his nose. “It's just not attached.” He points at a small, feathered lump nearby, and my stomach turns over.
“Why would someone leave a dead bird here during Eugene's memorial?” I ask, and then it hits me as I'm saying it. “Because they're the ones that killed him.” The words come out in a whisper, and I swear, it's like nature's conspiring against us. The wind ruffles the trees, the cool breeze bringing goose bumps up on my arms as I cross them over my chest. And then one of those goddamn fucking owls starts hooting.
“This is so beyond creepy,” the twins murmur, and then they snap a photo with their phones, blinding us all with the flash.
“Shit, this is getting weird,” Ranger murmurs, standing up and tossing the candle onto the heap. “We should report this to the headmaster.”
“Yeah, and then he'll ban me from going to the party tonight. Let's just get out of here for now, and we'll tell him in the morning. Either that, or someone else is bound to stumble on this and report it for us.” I pause, and frown. Actually … I can't decide if Dad would blow this off as nothing, or if he'd take it too seriously. It's impossible to tell with him. Honestly, it feels like whatever reaction would be least beneficial to me is the one he always takes.
“What I don't get is what killing a bird has to do with, well, like, anything?” Spencer says, but I don't have any answers. Doesn't seem like anybody else does either.
“You know, that same night you guys surprised me with the spiders, I went to the girls' dorm and found red wax all over the coffee table. I figured you guys had set up in their first, but then moved to the kitchen …”
“We were never in there,” the twins say, and then Tobias sighs.
“The only person who goes to the girls' dorm regularly besides you is Ranger. And we didn't tell anyone else that that was your place.”
“So the red wax … could feasibly be from these same psychos?” I continue, pointing at the ring of candles with the dead bird. I feel physically sick to my stomach. Whoever it is that's plaguing this school, they're clearly insane. I mean, not that that wasn't obvious before with the whole 'murdering people thing', but really, animal sacrifice? It's so nineties crime scene cliché.
Instead of scaring me, all the morbid display does is piss me off.
“I wouldn't say could be,” Church continues, his voice low and even. “I'd go so far as to say probably is.”
“Well, fuck these assholes,” I say, feeling my body heat up with anger. “I mean, really? Does killing a small, helpless bird make you feel tough?” I hold my arms up and turn toward the woods. “Does it? Well screw you! I'm not afraid of your notes, or your candles, or anything else. Let's go.” I turn and take off down the path, the Student Council following after me.
I hope the bastards heard me. Because I was serious. I'm not afraid of them.
And I refuse to run.When I come down the stairs, dressed in a short, navy blue cocktail dress, the boys turn as one unit, and I swear, they all gawk at me. Well, maybe except for Church. He just doesn't seem like the type to gawk.
“Looking good, Chuck,” the twins say together, flashing matching grins.
“Holy shit, you're hot,” Spencer chokes out as Ranger flushes slightly. He's seen me dressed up before, but I guess there was a little too much going on that night to properly process things.
I blush and do a little twirl on the landing, so they can take it all in. I've got on sexy red heels that Monica insisted I blow every cent of my sweet sixteen birthday money on, as well as more makeup than I've worn since I moved here. I even put the falsies on, and threw a super quick coat of red on my nails that I know I'll probably take off before school on Monday. Not that boys can't wear nail polish—Ranger does sometimes—but I just don't want to draw that sort of attention just yet. I'm happy keeping my secret to this group right here.
“You look beautiful,” Church says, smiling at me and tapping a single finger against his lips. He closes his eyes briefly, like he's taking in the moment, before slowly opening that amber gaze again.
