The Summoning

Twenty-nine

BY "WORK," HE MEANT cleanup. As in, reburying the bodies. All I'll say about that is that I was glad even with the door open it was still too dark to see those corpses very well.

The graves were shallow, barely more than a few inches of dirt over the bodies, enough for them to claw through when their spirits were slammed back into their corpses. But I didn't want to think about that.

I could tell the bodies had been buried quite a while, probably before Lyle House had become a group home. And they were adults. For now, that was all I needed to know.

As we worked, I asked Derek how he'd found me. He said that when he realized Tori had stayed behind, he knew she was up to something, so he went to check on me. How exactly he found me, he didn't say, only shrugged and mum bled something about checking "the obvious places" when I seemed to be missing.

The question now was: What to do about Tori?

"Nothing," I said, wiping my trembling hands after smoothing over the second grave.

"Huh?"

Nice to hear him say that for a change.

"I'm going to act like nothing happened."

He considered it, then nodded. "Yeah. If you blame her, things will only escalate. Better to ignore her and hope she gives up."

"Pray she gives up," I muttered as I crawled for the door.

"Is there still clean clothing down here?" Derek asked.

"One load in the dryer. That's it. Why —? Oh, right. Better not to go upstairs covered in dirt." I climbed down the ladder. "Most of what's in the dryer was yours so—"

"Chloe? Derek?" Mrs. Talbot stood in the laundry room. "What are you two doing together? Derek, you know you're not supposed to —" Her gaze traveled over my filthy clothing. "Dear Lord, what happened to you?"

There was no sense denying we'd been in the crawl space, since she caught us stepping from the closet, me caked in dirt. I moved my legs together, hoping it hid the wet mark. The blow to the back of my skull throbbed and I struggled to speak, praying Derek would jump in. He didn't. One rescue a day must have been his limit.

"I was doing laundry, and D-Derek came down, looking for —"

Dr. Gill stepped into the room. My gaze shot to her. "Go on, Chloe."

"H-he wanted his shirt. I —I asked about stain stud, because I couldn't find any and I opened the closet to look, and Derek said it was usually l-locked. We f-found the ladder and the crawl sp-space and we were curious."

"Oh, I bet you were curious," Dr. Gill said, crossing her arms. "Kids your age are very curious, aren't they?"

"I —I guess so. We were exploring—"

"I bet you were," Dr. Gill cut in.

I realized what she thought Derek and I had been doing.

Even as I denied it, 1 saw she'd given us the perfect out. If I just dropped my gaze sheepishly and said "Yep, you caught us," they'd have their explanation, with no reason to go into the crawl space and discover those hastily reburied corpses.

If it had been Simon, I'd have done it in a second. But Derek? I wasn't that good a liar.

It didn't matter. The more I denied it, the more certain they were that we'd been fooling around. Dr. Gill had already made up her mind. If you find a teenage boy and girl in a dark, private place, was there really any question what they'd been up to?

Even Mrs. Talbot seemed convinced, her mouth tight with disapproval as I blathered.

And Derek? He didn't say a word.

Once we were released, I hurried upstairs to change my jeans before anyone noticed the pee mark. When I checked my head, I had two goose eggs, one from Tori and one from hitting that pillar.

Back downstairs, I showed the smaller one to Dr. Gill, hoping it would support my story that we'd been exploring —see, I even bopped my head. She just took a cursory look, handed me Tylenol, and told me to lie down in the media room. Aunt Lauren was on the way.

"I don't know what to say, Chloe."

Aunt Lauren's voice was barely above a whisper. These were the first words she'd said to me since arriving at Lyle House. I'd heard her arguing with Dr. Gill and the nurses earlier, demanding to know why they weren't making sure Derek stayed away from me, as she'd been promised. But now, with me, that anger had disappeared.

We were alone in Dr. Gill's office. Just like Tori and her mother had been. While I knew this meeting wouldn't end in threats and bruises, I imagined I'd leave feeling no better than Tori had.

Aunt Lauren sat ramrod straight, her hands cupped in her lap, fingers twisting her emerald ring.

I know you're fifteen. Even if you haven't really dated yet, you're curious. In a place like this, isolated from your friends and family, living with boys, the temptation to experiment —"

"It wasn't like that. It wasn't anything like that." I twisted to face her. "We found the crawl space and Derek wanted to check it out and I thought that'd be cool."

"So you followed him in there? After what he'd done to you?" She'd gone still, the disappointment in her eyes changing to horror. "Oh, Chloe, I can't believe — Did you think harassing and hurting you the other day meant he liked you?"

"What? No, of course not. Derek isn't — He made a mistake. He didn't really hurt me and he didn't mean to do it. It was a misunderstanding."

She reached forward and gripped my hand. "Oh, Chloe. Sweetheart, no. You can't fall for that. You can't make excuses for him."

"Excuses?"

"Maybe this is the first boy who's ever said 'I like you,' and I know that feels good, but this will not be the only boy who likes you, Chloe. He's just the first with the nerve to say so. He's older. He took advantage of the situation. At school, I imagine girls won't look at him twice and here he is, with a pretty girl, young, impressionable, trapped —"

"Aunt Lauren!" I yanked from her grasp. "God, it's not —"

"You can do better, Chloe. Much better."

From the distaste on her face, I knew she wasn't talking about how Derek treated me. I felt an odd surge of outrage. Sure, I couldn't bring myself to pretend that I'd been fooling around with him. But I'd felt bad about thinking that way.

How Derek looked wasn't his fault. He was obviously aware of it —and how others reacted to it—and it certainly wasn't like he tried to be repulsive. An adult should know better. Aunt Lauren should be the one giving me the you-can't-judge-a-book-by-its-cover speech.

Any notion I'd had of confessing the truth to Aunt Lauren evaporated. She looked at Derek and she saw a creep who'd attacked her niece. Nothing 1 could say would convince her otherwise, because he seemed like a creep. And nothing I could say would convince her I was really seeing ghosts, because I seemed like a schizophrenic.

"Aren't you going to say anything, Chloe?"

"Why?" I heard the chill in my voice. "I've tried. You've already made up your mind."

She shifted in her seat, inching to the edge, closing the gap between us. "I'd like to hear your side."

"Just because I'm in this place, just because I'm 'sick,' doesn't mean I'm any different than I was a week ago. Back then, you'd know something was wrong with this story. You'd have asked for my explanation before accusing me of anything. But now?" I stood. "Now I'm just the crazy girl."

"Chloe, I don't think —"

"I know exactly what you think," I said, and walked out.

Aunt Lauren tried to follow, but I wouldn't listen. I was too angry. Too hurt. To think I'd fool around in a basement crawl space with the first boy who showed an interest in me? That really stung.

God only knew what she thought we'd been doing. I was pretty sure her imagination had taken her way past the sweet first-kiss stage. To think I'd go from "never been on a date" to "rolling around in the dirt with a stranger"? That was insulting. No, more than insulting. It made me furious.

Did Aunt Lauren know the first thing about me? And if she didn't, who did?

When it was clear I wasn't going to "calm down" and talk to my aunt, it was time for the next phase. The trial. I was summoned back into the office, with Derek as my codefendant and Dr. Gill and Dr. Davidoff as judge and jury. It was a closed court. Even Aunt Lauren wasn't allowed in.

I didn't bother to argue about why we'd been in the crawl space. I'd moved well past the "Oh, my God, I don't want anyone to think I'm that kind of girl" stage. If they thought Derek and I had been grappling in the dirt, then at least it meant they wouldn't go into the crawl space and see the signs of disturbance . . . or, if they did, they'd figure they knew what caused it.

Despite what Aunt Lauren believed, I was sure Derek was as horrified by the thought as I was. When Dr. Gill tried to get a confession from him, he only shrugged, and muttered "whatever," arms crossed, big frame slumped in his seat, defiance in the set of his chin. Like me, he'd realized there was no use arguing, but he wasn't about to confess either.

"This isn't the first time you two have . . . tangled," Dr. Gill said finally. "And I have a feeling it won't be the last. We need to nip this in the bud, and the only way we're going to do that is with a transfer. One of you will have to go."

"I will." I heard the words and it took a moment to realize they'd come from me.

Was I crazy? Volunteering to be transferred when I was already worried about what such a transfer meant?

But I didn't take it back. If one of us had to leave, it should be me. As frightened as I was of being shipped out, I wouldn't separate Simon and Derek.

Still, I expected Derek to jump in. I don't know why — certainly not chivalry. But, it seemed only right to at least raise a token protest. The polite thing to do . . . which I supposed should explain why he didn't say a word.

"No one's going anywhere," Dr. Davidoff said softly. "For now, I'm putting you both on notice. But don't give me any reason to revisit this discussion. Is that understood?"

It was.