Gregory and she had managed to avoid each other in the halls. So had she and Suzanne, but while Gregory slipped past Ivy, Suzanne dramatically played out each snub. Her anger at Ivy was obvious to everyone.
Ivy was relieved when Beth had told her that Gregory and Suzanne were going to the football game that afternoon. Having slept little in the past two nights, she could finally rest, knowing that Gregory wouldn't walk in on her. Even though she locked her bedroom door now, she never really felt safe.
Ivy slipped the envelope and forms in her stack of schoolbooks and was about to head upstairs when she heard a car pull up behind the house. It sounded like Gregory's BMW. Her first instinct was to rush up to her room, but she didn't want Gregory to think she was afraid of him. Sitting back down, she opened the newspaper and hunched over the table, pretending to read. The kitchen door was pushed open, band instantly Ivy smelled the perfume. 'Suzanne.'
Suzanne responded with a sullen look.
'Hi,' Gregory said. His tone of voice was neither warm nor cold, and his face was expressionless-though ready to flash into a smile if anyone else happened to walk into the kitchen. Suzanne continued to look at Ivy with pouting lips.
'This is a surprise,' Ivy said. 'Beth said you were going to the football game.'
'Suzanne was bored, and I had to pick up something,' Gregory told her. He turned his back to Ivy, reached into the cupboard, and pulled out a tall copper cup. 'Would you get her a drink?' he asked, handing Ivy the cup.
'Sure.' Gregory exited the kitchen quickly.
Ivy checked the refrigerator for sodas. 'Sorry, no cold ones,' she told Suzanne.
Suzanne remained silent.
Except you, Ivy said to herself, then reached under the counter for a bottle. She wondered why Gregory would leave them alone to talk. Perhaps he was standing outside the kitchen door, waiting to hear what she would say. Maybe this was a test to see if she'd tell Suzanne what she knew about him.
'How are you doing?' Ivy asked.
'Fine.'
A one-word answer, but it was a start. Ivy dropped some ice cubes into the soda and handed it to Suzanne. 'At school a lot of kids were talking about your party. Everyone had a good time.'
'Downstairs and upstairs,' Suzanne replied.
Ivy remained silent.
'How bad was your hangover?' Suzanne asked.
'I didn't have one,' Ivy told her.
'Oh, that's right, you got rid of all the booze in you.'
Ivy bit her lip.
'I couldn't sleep in my room Saturday night,' Suzanne said, and walked around the kitchen, swirling the drink in her cup.
'I'm sorry about that, Suzanne. I really am. But the truth is, I didn't have anything to drink,' Ivy said firmly.
'I want to believe you.' Suzanne's lip trembled. 'I want you and Gregory to tell me I dreamed it all.'
'You know he won't. And I won't, either.'
Suzanne nodded and dropped her chin. 'I know everybody cries when they break up with a guy. But I never thought I'd get out the tissues because I was splitting up with you.'
'You've known me longer than any of your guys,' Ivy replied quickly. 'You trusted me for ten years. Then one guy says something, and you don't.'
'I saw you with my own eyes!'
'What did you see?' Ivy almost shouted. 'You saw what he wanted you to see, what he told you to see.
How can I convince you-' 'You can stop fooling around with my boyfriend, that's how! You can keep your hot little hands where they belong!' Suzanne took a large gulp of her drink. 'You're making a fool of yourself, Ivy, and you're doing it at my expense.'
'Suzanne, why can't you admit that it's at least possible that Gregory was coming on to me?'
'Liar,' Suzanne said. 'I'll never trust you again.' She took another angry gulp of soda, leaving a print of her lipstick on the shiny metal.
'I warned you, Ivy. But you didn't listen to me. You didn't care enough to.'
'I care about you more than you realize,' Ivy said, taking a step toward Suzanne.
Suzanne turned on her heel. 'Tell Gregory I'm on the patio,' she said as she walked out the kitchen door.
Ivy let her friend go. It's useless, she thought. He's poisoned Suzanne's mind. Fighting back the tears, Ivy rushed out of the kitchen toward the stairs. She ran headlong into Gregory and pushed past him. She didn't bother telling him where Suzanne had gone. She was sure he had been listening to every word.
Ivy didn't pause to catch her breath until she reached her music room.
She slammed the door closed behind her and leaned against it. Keep cool, keep cool, she said to herself.
But she couldn't stop shaking. She had lost all hope that she could win against Gregory. She needed help, needed someone to assure her that things would get better. She remembered the day Will had driven her back to the train station, how he had believed in her and given her the confidence to believe in herself.
'I'll find Will,' she said aloud, then turned toward the door and was surprised to see the shimmering gold light. 'Tristan!'
His gold light surrounded her. 'Yes, Tristan,' he said, within her now.
'Are you all right? Where have you been?' Ivy asked silently. 'You were gone so long this time. A lot has happened since you fell into the darkness.'
'I know,' Tristan replied. 'Will and Lacey filled me in.'
'Did they tell you about Suzanne? She thinks- she believes whatever Gregory says, and she hates me now, she-' The flood of tears was uncontrollable.
'Shhh. Ivy, shhh. I know about Suzanne,' Tristan told her. 'And I'm sorry, but you have to forget about her right now. There are a lot more import-' 'Forget about her?' The tears became furious ones, and Ivy spoke out loud. 'He wants to hurt me any and every way he can!'
'Ivy, speak silently,' Tristan reminded her quickly. 'I know this is hard for you-' 'You don't know! You don't understand how I feel,' Ivy said, sitting down at the piano. She ran her finger sharply up the keyboard.
'Listen to me, Ivy. I found out something you have to know.'
'I can't keep losing people,' she said.
'There's something I want to tell you about,' Tristan persisted.
'First I lost you, now Suzanne, and-' 'Will,' he said.
'Will?' The tone of Tristan's voice, low and firm, alarmed her. 'What about Will?' she asked, crossing her arms.
'You can't trust him.'
'But I do trust him,' Ivy replied, determined not to be persuaded otherwise.
'I just came from searching his house,' Tristan told her.
'Searching?'
'And I found some pretty interesting things there,' he added.
'Like what?' she demanded.
'Books about angels. A tracing of Caroline's key.'
'Well, what do you expect?' Ivy asked. 'Of course he's read about angels.
He's trying to understand exactly what you are and why you've come back.
And we already knew he was curious enough to look in the envelope that contained the key. I would have done the same thing if I were him,' she added defensively.
'There was also a copy of Beth's story,' Tristan said. 'The one about the woman who committed suicide, the one she recited for your drama club assignment the month before Caroline died. Do you remember it?'
Ivy nodded slowly. 'The woman tore up photographs of her lover and his new sweetheart, leaving them like a suicide note when she shot herself.'
'Just as Caroline supposedly tore up photos of Andrew and your mother,' Tristan said.
