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She yanked her fingers back, feeling her breath quicken. Her heart was already racing in her chest. “What just happened?”
“You see why I’m not buying the ‘we just talked’ crap.”
“Chris saved me,” she said, talking quickly because the words wanted to escape her lips. “Some guys—they were—they were—”
“I get it.” His voice was even. “There’s blood here.”
“There was a fight. Just boys from school. Chris—we ran them off. But something happened. Lightning started chasing us across the field or—I don’t know.” Again, she didn’t have the right words. “But when it started, he gave me his cell phone and told me to get his brothers.”
“Jesus, Becca.” Michael set his jaw and looked off across the field, then back at her. “I’m his brother, too.”
She flushed as guilt smacked her in the face. “I know. I’m sorry.”
Michael punched the ground, and the field between them cracked and split like a windshield hit by a rock. She scrambled back a few feet, but he was looking out at the trees now. “I could have helped them. I could have—” He punched the ground again. “Where are they?”
“I should have called you last night,” she said, hearing pain behind the fury in his voice. “I just—he told me to text the twins, and they were able to chase off the Guide at the bridge, so I thought—”
“Stop.” His eyes locked on hers. “Run that by me again.”
“Last Monday, when the Guide destroyed the bridge—” She stared at him for a long minute. “They never told you.”
“No,” he said, his tone resigned. “But you can.”
So she talked, going back to the morning she’d found the first pentagram on her door. She gave him every detail about the Guide she could remember, right up to the bolts of lightning last night, to the way the rain had turned to daggers on her cheeks. Then she had to back up and tell him about the night at the party, the way Chris had dragged her into the water, the way Tyler came after them with a gun.
o;We’ll see what those look like when they’re cleaned up,” her mother said. “Then we’ll talk about wrestling. Becca, can you help me get a few things from the powder room?”
Becca frowned and followed her into the hallway. Her mom kept some of her medical stuff under the sink in the front bathroom, but it was just bandage tape and squares of gauze, nothing that required “help.” Becca probably could have gotten everything in one hand.
But her mom pointed at the commode. “Sit.”
Her voice was terse. Becca sat. “Mom, what’s—”
“I knew something was going on with you, Becca, and I thought you would tell me eventually.” Her mom flung open the cabinet below the sink.
How could she ever explain this? Becca swallowed. “Look, it’s complicated—”
“Oh, I know it’s complicated.” Her mom shoved a box of gauze into her hands, followed by a tube of Neosporin. “I didn’t think you’d hide things from me. Not something like this.”
Becca swallowed. “Mom, I just—I’m still figuring it out, and—”
“Well, I’ve figured it out,” her mother said. “That boy is way too old for you, Becca. Do you understand me?”
Wait a minute.
“Mom!” Becca stared at her. “You think—you think I’m dating Michael?”
Her mom stared back at her, obviously thrown. “You’re not?”
This would be hilarious if her mom didn’t look so serious.
“Oh my god,” cried Becca. “Are you kidding? Michael is the last person I would ever—oh my god. I wouldn’t go out with him if someone paid me. Ugh, that’s just—”
“You know I can hear you, right?” called Michael.
Becca flushed. “I’m friends with his younger brother,” she whispered. “His much younger brother. Chris Merrick. He’s in my class.” She hesitated, wondering how much to tell her mother. “Chris and his brothers didn’t come home from the dance last night. Michael’s trying to find out where they went.”
Her mother pulled the last of her supplies out of the cabinet. “Where are his parents?”
