If the task was so easily accomplished, why had Duvall asked for help? And why had she wasted her time in awkward silence with Alex?
“Can I show you something cool?”
When Jonas asked, Alex had hesitated, and he didn’t blame her. Her mind probably conjured the image of a childhood Jonas asking her that very same question right before beheading her favorite doll and holding up the head like a trophy. No wonder she seemed wary of what “something cool” might be.
He held out his hand and she eyed it like it was a bear trap. Would he ever release her if she gave him that much? She smiled, of course. Alex was always too polite to reject him completely. She reached out and cupped her hand around his bicep, barely grazing his arm, accepting the invite but not the gesture. That was good enough for Jonas. He took what he could get.
He debated whether or not to share this place with her. At first, he’d adamantly thought no, but Alex made things difficult. He’d never known how to handle himself around her. Alex was like a sunset on the horizon, beautifully unreal like the fingertips of the world grazing the edges of heaven, and yet painfully unattainable. Something he knew he could never reach, although that didn’t stop him from wanting it.
Since he could remember, he’d searched for hiding places. His brothers took up so much space that he couldn’t always breathe around them. This place he’d found by accident while attempting a detour during one of Van Hanlin’s scripted chasing routes. Among the trees that stretched so high they could, quite possibly, be gateways to eternity, one tree was different from all the others. It had thick leaves like a giant’s teardrops and branches that swayed without wind. Short and stout, it was blatantly out of place, overshadowed by its surroundings, kind of like Jonas.
Alex followed him beneath the protection of the tree and sat down. “What did you want to show me?”
“You’ll hear it before you see it.”
She cocked her head, listening for something. “Hear what?”
“Wait a few minutes.”
Alex folded her tiny hands in her lap.
He shifted his eyes as far as he could to look at her without turning his head. He wanted so badly to reach out and grab her hand.
“Where do you go when your brothers are around?” she asked out of the blue.
“What do you mean?”
“You aren’t you.”
Perhaps she sniffed out his vulnerability here. Jonas knew very well that the sullen person he became in the presence of his brothers was the type of person Alex became without them. “Where do you go when they’re not around?”
“Point taken,” she said.
He held her gaze longer than he was allowed. Her oversized eyes matched the dusk, whatever shade of blue was left to survive alone without the light from the sun. It was a bittersweet color. Like the ending of something good.
“In all seriousness,” Alex pressed him. “You sneak off a lot. I think maybe I’m the only one who notices.”
She noticed when he wasn’t around? Something inside of him fluttered. He’d missed that feeling. Optimism. “You aren’t the only one, believe me. My brothers have never really trusted me. Without Chase to babysit, they’ve been watching me like a hawk.”
“Why?”
Who would they ridicule without him? They couldn’t possibly turn on each other. “Who knows? Boredom?”
“Do they have a reason to be concerned?”
Jonas wondered if he should tell her about his little secret. He always seemed to get himself into messy situations. It wasn’t a reason for concern but rather something he was proud of, an opportunity, but it was also something he was supposed to keep to himself. Alex made him weak. He would tell her everything if it meant he could keep her.
Kaleb was the leader; Gabe was the genius; Chase was the heartthrob. He’d never voice it aloud, but he was dreading Chase’s return. Charm filled the air when just Kaleb and Gabe were around, but when Chase returned, it would spill over, and he’d be forced to wade through the weight at his ankles. It was tiring to keep up with them. And who was he if he didn’t maintain his own role?
“No,” he finally replied. “They don’t have a reason for concern. But if they didn’t assume I was up to no good, something would be wrong.”
“What do they think you’re up to?”
He grinned mischievously. “You.”
“Ah,” Alex sighed. “You’re using me to get under their skin.”
Of course she wouldn’t take it seriously. He began to respond, but stopped when the air around them began to ripple. “Here they come.”
“Who?”
He lifted a finger to his lips, and within seconds, there came a palpitation so intense the world seemed to tremble. “This is what I’ve been waiting to show you.”
Hundreds of butterflies swarmed the tree. “Why are they here?”
“Maybe they just like the tree, but I’ve been here three times now when it’s happened.” Jonas liked to think they flocked to this tree in particular because it was different. It was proof that bigger wasn’t always better.
“It’s like magic.”
He was pleased to find her so in awe. He’d known she’d appreciate this. The butterflies were all different sizes, all different colors, a Monet painting blotching the world. With a whispering whoosh, the tree shifted its branches in a ticklish shudder. He watched Alex reach out her arm. The first butterfly to land on her was black and blue, proving a bruise could be beautiful, as though it knew how her life had been.
“Ever heard of the butterfly effect?” he asked. “If the wings of one butterfly can alter the path of a storm … ” He waved at the scene around them. “Imagine what this could do.”
He liked the idea that something so trivial, so small, could have such a big effect. It gave him hope that with even the slightest imbalance, the weight of the world, and maybe even the fate of the world, could be shifted.
Then maybe he’d stand a chance.
17
On October first, the last-minute preparations for the Moribund Mansion of Morgues had turned into such frenzy that the manor itself had actually begun to hum like the steady buzz of a beehive. That evening, Duvall partnered Alex with Skye and gave them a bucket the size of a baby pool filled with giant spools of what seemed like thick white yarn. She ordered them to decorate every nook and cranny of the house with fake “spider webs,” a task that proved to be extremely tricky because Duvall had invented the substance, and when the threads broke, they regenerated.
Skye ended up in the doorway of the billiard room, swaddled by the adhesive. Duvall drifted past and paused to commend Skye for being so creative. “Next year,” she cackled, “we should assign spirits to be stuck in the webs, screaming for help!”
There seemed to be a competition among the teachers to outdo one another with fresh ideas for the mansion. Strobe lights, mirrors, and fake murders would only get you so far, Van Hanlin had said.
“Alex Ash!” Duvall snapped her fingers. “Remove your friend before the webs go down her throat. That would be extremely uncomfortable for her.”
“Technically, her throat doesn’t exist anymore, right?” Madison asked from across the room.
“No, it doesn’t exist, but she hasn’t been dead long enough to believe that. She’d feel the pain of it.”
It took Alex nearly an hour to extract Skye from the heart of the web without breaking any of the threads. “Thanks,” Skye chirped once her face was freed. “I bet this is the stuff we diagrammed in Duvall’s ABC class the other day.”