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And she looked up at the sky. The sun was fading away. It was getting dark earlier, fall enveloping us in her cool embrace.
“Going for a swim,” Sorina said, looking me in the eye. “And you’re going to join me.”
I walked to the edge of the pool, crouching down. My eyes roved over Sorina as she took her boots off and shimmied down her shorts. I watched her unapologetically because I thought maybe she wanted that. To distract me. But I was already distracted. The pool was much cleaner than the dirty pond, and I was curious to know if I would feel that strange pull again when we entered the water. When I blinked, I saw the glowing red circle in the woods by the school.
I removed my shoes, then my jeans, before ripping my shirt over my head. I stood in my boxers, eyeing the water, then staring off into the distance, to the trees.
When I looked up at Sorina, she had her own shirt off, and she hadn’t been wearing a bra. I saw a glimpse of her nipples before she dove into the water, red hair moving like blood.
I joined her, diving in, remembering hot days on the ranch, the derelict pool on the back half.
When I surfaced, Sorina was on the opposite side of the pool, at the shallow end, walking around in slow circles. Her breasts were just above the surface, the light from the building beside us shining on her pale skin as the sun left us.
“I’m going to Moonies tonight. I want to talk to Diana about the house. Maybe I’ll get more out of her than you,” I said, swimming to the end of the pool, grabbing the ledge. Sorina walked closer, eventually reaching a spot her feet couldn’t touch, swimming out.
“A Priest, Father Scott, built it after the Civil War, in 1880. Ten years before Steele Mansion was built. Did you see the building that looked like a church across the street?” she asked.
“Yes.” There were churches everywhere.
“It’s not a church. Not anymore. It’s now a … they call them a Veteran’s Hall. But it used to be the lone Catholic church in town. Then ten years later Captain O.R. Steele, a Civil War soldier for the Union, moved to Hart Hollow and built Steele Mansion on the hill. The Captain attended the Catholic church across the street from the Archer house and grew close to Father Scott. It didn’t take long for the Captain to decide—after everything he’d seen in the war—that he wanted to become a Deacon.”
My heart stopped at her words, but she continued.
“The new Deacon studied under Father Scott, grew closer to the Lord, grew closer with the community. And when Father Scott died, and Deacon Steele took his place, he moved the small Catholic congregation to a new church adjoining his home. The old church within city limits was sold. The house across the street, without Father Scott to attend to it, fell into disarray. It was willed to an unknown man, a man who never visited Hart Hollow, Missouri. It was planned that way. It was built on a crack, a fault line.”
“Are there earthquakes here? I thought that was just in California.”
“They happen here, few and far between. Most people don’t feel them. But certain kinds of people do. If there was one right now, I’d feel it. So would you.”
I closed my eyes, trying to digest the information she had given me. I gave up, coming back to her comment. “Because I’m … not a normal teenager,” I said, making air quotes.
“Yes.”
“How do you know so much about a town you just moved to?”
“My family has always come here … for the exchange.” Her words sounded fake, lies she barely concealed.
“Your mother, from Romania, she came here too?”
“Yes,” Sorina said, swimming closer. I felt like prey, like a lamb, and she was the wolf.
“Why did you kiss me?” I asked, reaching for her in the water, grazing her leg. “Why are we—whatare we doing?”
She ducked under the water, and I felt her close. Hand on my hips, mouth at the hem of my boxers. She kissed me, then swam away, breaking the surface behind me.
I was hard. Angry. Confused.
I turned in the water, splashing some on her face. She looked incredibly young when she smiled, wiping the water away. It was her mouth, the sharp canines, the slant of her jaw. But when I looked into her eyes, she didn’t look young. The black was taking over, pushing away her blue. “Do it again. And this time, don’t make me leave,” I said, almost begging.
“I will if you leave that house alone. If you leave all of it alone,” she said, swimming closer.
I grinned, and it felt wicked. She invaded my space; her legs going around my waist as her hands gripped shoulders. I grabbed her hip with one hand under the surface, the other arm keeping us afloat. She was so small, dainty, almost gaunt. She looked like a ghost, and I wanted her to touch me; I tried to touch her, but I didn’t know how to do it without feeling the way I felt on the stage, full of heat and rage. I never agreed to her terms, couldn’t allow myself to.
Sorina pushed her wet hair from her face, eyes close to me, breath on me. It was cool. “I want you to pretend I’m someone else,” she said, hand gripping my neck.
I furrowed my brow.
“Jessica,” she said. “If you will not leave, live a normal life here. Pretend you don’t hear the whispers; pretend you can’t feel the dread. Date and fuck, go to prom, and play on the basketball team, Nicholas. Do all the stuff that was robbed from you before. You have a chance to start over here. Don’t get caught up in the omens.”
