“Sure, fine. Whatever.” Rachel leads him into the living room.
“Do ye wanna skip school today?” he asks, stuffing his breakfast into his backpack.
“Can’t,” Rachel says. “Fridays are Mr. Davenport’s weekly test days, because clearly he has nothing better to do with his time.”
She opens the front door and exits the house with Dougal following close behind. They don’t speak on their way to her car, but he does raise an eyebrow as he peers across the roof of her Hyundai i10.
“I had a nightmare last night,” she says, opening the driver’s door.
“About?”
“Orion.” Rachel climbs into the car and Dougal slips into the passenger seat. She continues with a vague retelling of the nightmare, telling him about how real it felt. “I think he’s in trouble.”
Dougal sighs heavily.
She glances at him from underneath her eyelashes and clicks her seatbelt into place. “What?”
“Rach, he explicitly told ye not to go after him. Remember?”
“I remember.” Rachel turns the key in the ignition, and the engine whirrs to life.
“I can’t go with ye. At least, not while Nan’s in the hospital,” he says.
She reverses out of the driveway. “I know,” she says.
“And ye still wanna go into the Fae Realm? By yerself?” Dougal’s frustration leeches into his voice. When she doesn’t contradict him, he says, “Yer a damn fool, Rachel Cleary.”
Rachel bites back a cutting remark of her own. “Are you done mothering me yet?”
“No. I have a few choice words left on the matter,” he retorts.
“Have at it then. Get it all off your chest now, because once I get out of this car, we’re not getting into this again,” she says. When Dougal doesn’t respond, she shifts her gaze away from the road to look at him. “Well? I’m waiting.”
Dougal crosses his arms and shakes his head. “What’s the point? Ye have already made up yer mind.”
Rachel turns her attention back to the road. “Actually, I never said I’m going. You just assumed I am.”
When they near the Eerie Creek Bridge, Dougal rolls his eyes. “Do ye even know where Orion is?”
“I’m sure Ziggy will figure it out if we were to go, which I haven’t decided on yet.”
“Yer gonna get yerself killed because of that oversized lightbulb, and I will become the Sheriff’s prime suspect.” Dougal pushes his hand through his hair, his usually pale complexion already reddening as his blood pressure spikes.
“If I go, which I doubt I’ll be doing, I’m already coming up with a way to explain my disappearance in case I don’t return. Stop worrying,” Rachel says.
“I don’t like this one bit.” Dougal continues grumbling in Gaelic, much to Rachel’s dismay.
When he’s let off enough steam, he sulks for the remainder of the journey to Ridge Crest High, situated on the other side of the moderately sized New England town. She takes the backroads today, driving through the suburban areas in order to avoid the traffic on Main Road, but the scenic route doesn’t improve his sour mood. Even his takeout breakfast isn’t enough to turn him amicable.
Rachel expects him to jump out of the car as soon as she pulls into a parking space in front of the school, but Dougal surprises her by staying put.
He calmly gets out after she’s pulled the key from the ignition, waits until she’s retrieved her bag and locked the doors with the fob key, and walks her up to the entrance. Still, his annoyance doesn’t dissipate. It rolls off him in waves, crashing into her—and anyone else who dares to get close to the Scotsman—with a tsunami’s strength.
“Can you, like, relax or something? You’re scaring the freshmen worse than usual,” she hisses as they walk through the crowded hallway.
“No,” he grumbles, pulling his backpack higher up on his shoulders.
“Dougal, my man,” Vinesh calls his greeting as he and a few other footballers approach from the other end of the hallway.
Dougal scoffs, murmurs something unintelligible, and gives Vinesh a halfhearted high-five.
“I heard about your grandmother,” Joe Jr. says. “Is she okay?”
“I s’pose. It could’ve been worse,” Dougal answers.
Rachel heads to her locker, just a few feet away from the gathering of teenage boys, and listens as the football jocks bestow platitudes and sympathies on Dougal. They mean well, of course, but Dougal is clearly not in the right mind for this. She unlocks her locker, exchanges the textbooks in her bag for her purple ledger, and checks her hair in the mirror affixed inside the door.
“They’re rowdier than usual,” Cam says beside her. “Reason?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but Dougal’s grandmother took a bad fall yesterday.”
“Is she all right?” Cam asks.
“The better question is whether the doctors and nurses are okay.” Rachel closes her locker.
Cam snickers.
“You’re earlier than usual.”
“English test,” he says. “Thought I’d try and study for it in between my extracurricular activities.”
“Which includes?” Rachel leans her shoulder against the locker, giving him a once-over, unable to keep her suspicion at bay.
Cam shrugs. “A little of this, a bit of that. Obviously it’s nothing good.”
“Obviously,” she says. “So, what’s your deal, Cameron Mayer? According to Holland Keith, you’re a gay drifter who skins cats beneath the full moon.” Rachel earns herself an incredulous look. “Nobody believes a word that comes out of her mouth, though. Don’t worry.”
“Jeez, remind me not to get on her bad side,” Cam mumbles.
Rachel flashes him a smile. “The worst thing that’ll happen to you if you get on her bad side is you’ll end up like me.”
“Breathtakingly beautiful?” he says.
She feels her cheeks warm. “You’re a smooth talker, but no. I was thinking more along the lines of becoming a pariah.”
“What’s that?” Dougal’s voice reaches her ears.
“Oh, this? I dunno, man. I found it in my locker this morning. Vinesh got one too,” Brandon answers.
“Can I see?” Dougal asks.
Curious, Rachel looks over as Dougal inspects something in his large hands. She can’t make out exactly what it is, but when the blood drains from Dougal’s face, her concern intensifies.
“Vin, can I see yers?” He glances up to meet Rachel’s gaze. The
