Cooper’s room on the second floor.
Like I’ve done a thousand times before, I pick up a tiny pebble from the ground and toss it at his window. If I can get his attention, maybe he’ll answer the door like a normal person and we can talk.
Though my pebble strikes the sill, he doesn’t look out the glass. I toss another and then a third, but still he doesn’t answer. This is getting ridiculous.
I slump back against the magnolia’s sturdy trunk. Normally these ornamentals are thin and spindly, but under my dad’s watchful and very verdant thumb, this tree has flourished.
A crazy idea pops into my head. I can climb up there and ensure I get his attention. It’s super-stalkerish, but considering I’ve given him every opportunity to respond, I don’t think it’s too outrageous. At least that’s what I’m telling myself.
Besides, he can’t get too ticked off at me. I did just destroy the Beaumont ruby, end the curse, and help him reconnect with his mom.
Planting my flip-flop on the lowest branch, I grab hold of a bough at my eye level and begin my ascent. The pink magnolia’s fragrance is faint but delicious, a combination of cinnamon, rose water, and a hint of hyacinth. As I climb in the dim light, my flip-flop slides off the smooth bark, leaving me dangling. Gasping, I clutch tight and fumble to regain my footing. Note to self: flip-flops are not ideal tree-climbing equipment.
Finally, I scale high enough to peek into his window. But I can only just make out the top of Cooper’s golden-brown head across the room. I need to get higher, but the branches are thinner and less sturdy. Biting my bottom lip, I grab hold and yank to test their strength. They’re firm and seem steady, so I scramble another couple feet until I’m high enough to see into the room.
A crow flies into the tree, roosting on a skinny branch several feet above me. Which is totally weird because I didn’t know crows were nocturnal animals. I stare hard at its glassy black eyes, mentally shooing it away before my attention is drawn back to Cooper’s room.
Taneea’s standing in front of Cooper as he sits on the edge of his bed. They’re talking and he’s beaming up at her with those cold, gray-white eyes. He’s wearing a fresh wife-beater T-shirt, a clean pair of long denim shorts, and pristine, lime-green high-tops. Yuck. How many pairs of those hideous things did he buy? My eye is drawn to a thick, silver chain around his neck that I’ve never seen before. It almost looks like one of those metal choke collars for dogs. I guess it’s another one of Taneea’s fashion statements, though I’m not sure what putting a dog collar on your boyfriend is supposed to symbolize.
The crow flits closer, hopping down to a thicker limb just a foot from me. What the heck is with this thing? Aren’t wild birds supposed to be afraid of people? The crow cocks its head as if it’s studying me. Evidently I’m not that scary. Well, that’s about to change because the last thing I need is a nosy bird. Gripping the trunk with my left hand, I swat at the winged creature with my right. With a whoosh, it leaps away, just in time for me to take in the rest of what’s going on in Cooper’s room.
Taneea steps forward and runs her long fingers through Cooper’s soft curls. She must say something hilarious because he throws his head back and howls in laughter. Then he wraps his arms around her midsection and pulls her close, tilting his face up to her. She leans forward and kisses the spot right next to his lips.
Steamy tears well as my stomach somersaults, churning with bile. I want to puke. And cry. And scream. All at the same time. It’s one thing to have wondered what’s been going on between them, and even imagined it, but it’s another to actually see it with my own eyes. And the worst part is that he looks so…happy. Could he smile that wide if he was under a spell?
From the corner of her eye, Taneea glances toward the window.
I freeze, wondering if somehow I shrieked but didn’t hear my own voice. I don’t think so, but at this point, anything’s possible. Holding my breath, I squelch my tears, and swallow the acidic taste that’s working its way up the back of my throat.
Cupping his face in her palms, she leans into his ear and whispers something, then straightens and squares her shoulders. He grabs her hand and smiles, tugging her back toward him. Giggling, she pulls herself free and saunters toward the window, her brow hitched and a wicked grin on her lips. Cooper’s mother’s locket hangs around her neck.
I tell myself there’s a chance she doesn’t realize I’m here. Maybe she just interrupted a make-out session to come look at the moon. It could happen.
Except a second later, we come face-to-face, separated only by a thin sheet of glass and the ten feet between the magnolia and the Big House. Staring me down, she winks, then pulls the cord on the blinds, dropping them the full length of the pane. The slats are still open, providing me a view to the room. But a second later, she yanks the other cord and seals them shut.
Oh yeah, she’s seen me. Perched in a tree, being a giant, creepy, Peeping Tom stalker.
My brain spins as a thousand thoughts converge at once, imagining what’s going on in there behind those blinds. No, I can’t go there. Blocking the torturous images, my mind shifts to an even more painful thought: Maybe Cooper isn’t under a spell. Maybe he truly does care for her. Maybe I lost him fair and square.
A big, wailing sob works its way up my throat. My bottom lip trembles. Just as I’m about to drop my head and give in to my pity party, the persistent crow flies back into the magnolia. This time, rather than keeping its distance, it aims right for me, alighting on a bough just above my head. I jerk back and shoo it with my right hand again. But rather than taking flight, the crazy bird advances and pecks at my fingers. Ducking away, I swing toward my left to avoid its attack. The crow persists, this time striking my left arm with its beak. Frantic, I release my grip in the trunk and try to scamper down the tree, but descending is harder and slower than the initial climb, especially with a rabid bird on the loose and flip-flops on my feet. Weaving to avoid the bird’s sharp bill, I reach for a branch with one hand at the same moment I’ve released the other, just as my flip-flop slips against the smooth bark.
Untethered, I bow to gravity’s command, crashing against hard limbs and fragrant magnolia flowers.
A gust of wind rushes from my lungs as my back slams against the hard ground, followed by the smack of my head.
Everything goes black.
Chapter Twenty-six
My head throbs with pain and my shoulders ache as if they’ve been whacked by a two-by-four. Swallowing hard, I coax my eyes open, then attempt to focus on the pink dots circling above my head. My vision stops spinning long enough to realize the dancing pink spots are magnolia flowers. Attached to branches. The silver moon hangs in the sky overhead. I reach out my fingers and touch hard, cool soil and fuzzy, green moss.
Why am I on the ground?
Oh my gosh. I fell out of the tree. I extend a shaky hand to explore my screaming head. Inching my fingers around my scalp, I don’t sense any cuts or blood. Just a nasty lump on the back of my skull. I’m lucky. I think. Though someone should probably tell my back that.
The strange sound comes from just outside my peripheral view. It kind of reminds me of the time Jack I and walked home in the pouring rain in our drenched sneakers. Each mushy step sounded like a disgusting bodily function that cracked Jack up.
Craning my neck, I squint toward the wet, pulpy sound.
My heart skips and I draw a quick inhale that burns my smarting ribs.
A long, thin, red-skinned creature with lankly limbs is scaling the exterior wall beneath Cooper’s window. It’s headed right for him.
I blink to make sure I’m not imagining things. Nope, it’s real.
The glistening scarlet creature grips the white paneling with the three suction-cup-like fingers on each of its hands, squelching with each step it takes.
Goose bumps rush over my battered body and a scream leaps from my mouth.
The thing whips its face toward me, glaring its bulbous, crimson eyes—if that’s what they are—and hisses. Turning away, it continues its ascent up the brick wall.
