I’m pretty sure my emotions were clearly visible on my face, because he stiffened and muttered something in Farsi under his breath; I don’t think it was complimentary. “We should go find Heather,” he suggested.
I nodded and was about to leave, but it was too late.
“Mia,” Michael said, approaching us. When he smiled at me, his entire face lit up. You’d never know we’d had an almost argument earlier that morning, or that I’d disappointed him by not breaking off my date with Damiel.
“You know Farouk,” I said, afraid my sadness over his being there with his girlfriend might show.
Michael gave him a nod. “I do. Hi.”
Farouk held up the bags of popcorn he was carrying and said flatly, “I’d shake your hand, but…”
“Quite a lot of popcorn,” he said. If he noticed Farouk’s snub, he was ignoring it.
“We’re here with the rest of the gang,” I said, raising my drinks awkwardly.
The girl Michael was with gave me a beautiful, warm smile, and I realized where I’d seen her before. She was the girl I’d talked to at the café that day I’d gone there with Bill.
“That’s a pretty necklace,” she said.
“Thanks.” I touched it self-consciously, not wanting her calling too much attention to it. The fact it probably came from Damiel would only cause another argument between Michael and me.
“Yeah.” Michael leaned in to take a closer look. “It looks Turkish.”
“It’s Persian,” Farouk said, edging closer, until he practically stood between us. “My sister Fatima gave it to her.”
“Fatima?” I asked. When he nodded, I tried to hide my sudden relief.
“Well, it’s very nice,” the girl said, then turned to Michael. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”
I wasn’t sure if I should say anything about how we’d sort of met before when she spoke to me in the café. Obviously she didn’t recognize me. Why should she? She was the one who looked like a Victoria’s Secret model. People probably noticed her all the time.
“Of course,” Michael said. A flattering shade of pink touched his cheeks as he turned to me. “Mia, this is Arielle, and Arielle, this is Mia and Farouk.”
We exchanged polite hellos. Then Arielle said to me, “Michael’s told me about you.”
I instantly tensed, almost spilling the drinks I was carrying. Surely he hadn’t told her about the ridiculous crush I had on him, or that I was going on a date with his arch-enemy. Michael kept his relaxed smile, his face unreadable.
“Oh,” I said.
“Yeah, he mentioned you’d had a nasty fall in the woods, I guess it was a few weeks ago now,” she said. “How are you healing up?”
“Quickly,” I replied, relieved he hadn’t mentioned anything else, then added as if I was his PR person, “Michael was really helpful. I don’t know how I would have gotten out of that creek without him.”
She smiled sweetly at him. “That’s our Michael.”
Was it me, or was he uncomfortable receiving the praise? He crossed his arms over his chest, looking positively gorgeous. “You would have done the same thing,” he said to her.
“We should probably get inside,” I suggested to Farouk, “before the movie starts.”
We exchanged polite goodbyes and went off to find our seats. Heather waved when she saw us, happy that her night out was going so well—considering. Even Dean, playing a pre-movie trivia game with Jesse, seemed cheerful. As for me, I had a 400-pound sumo wrestler sitting on my chest. It wasn’t until after the opening credits, when we were well into the movie’s first scene, that I let myself cry. Fortunately, the movie grabbed everyone’s attention and whisked them away, so I had time to pull myself together before they noticed.
On the ride home, Farouk played the movie highlights over in conversation, and I was grateful for the recap. I hadn’t been paying attention. Neither of us mentioned Michael, or Fiona for that matter.
When we pulled up in front of my house, Farouk said, “I’m glad you wore the necklace. It suits you.”
“It’s beautiful! I love it,” I exclaimed. “It’s really sweet that she thought of me.”
“It’s a Hamsa—a ward against the evil eye.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s a type of protection from people sending you bad thoughts. You know, when people are jealous or wish you harm.”
“I could sure use that,” I said, thinking first of Elaine, then Fiona. Had someone been sending her bad vibes?
“We sell them at my father’s store. They’ve even been blessed by an imam—a Muslim priest.” He gave me a shy grin. “I guess that must sound odd to you.”
I shook my head. Who was I to judge his beliefs?
“You know how I told you about her gift the other day?”
“Yeah,” I said, remembering how he thought I was seeing things. I still didn’t want to talk about it.
“She thinks that someone means to harm you, and that wearing the necklace will protect you.”
Invisible, icy cold fingers danced up my spine. “Oh.”
“I hope it brings you luck.”
Chapter Eleven
In my dream, Michael and I walked hand in hand up an arid, grassy hill. Sheep grazed in the meadows, and gardens stretched out like patchwork blankets below. Heat waves shimmered in the air around us, and the sky shone a crystalline shade of blue. Halfway up the hill, Michael stopped. Wrapping his arms around me, he pulled me close until our bodies grazed each other’s—not quite touching. I pressed myself into him. At first his kiss was gentle. Then those kisses became hungry, intense.
A voice in my dream said: Open your eyes.
When I did, I was surrounded by darkness, and I wasn’t with Michael anymore. I was with Damiel. Startled, I tried to back away, but he was so strong I couldn’t move. His smile sharpened, the corners of his mouth pulling fiendishly tight, and his brown eyes glowed red. I got the sense his hunger had nothing to do with kissing. He put his hand over my heart and it lurched, as though it would rip out of my chest. I gasped, pushing away from him with all my strength, but I was starting to weaken…
***
As she pulled her mom’s minivan into Fiona’s driveway, Heather cleared her throat so loud it made me jump. I’d spaced out.
Fiona lived with her mom and dad in a big, modern house with huge windows overlooking Puget Sound, and the view from their living room was incredible, especially today. The sun peeked through the clouds and beamed rays of light onto the water below like something from an inspirational greeting card. Fiona sat on her bed, fully dressed, reading a horror novel. A large gauze bandage was taped to her left wrist; she must have gotten stitches.
When she saw us, she sprang off the bed, her arms outstretched to hug both of us at once.
“So good to see you guys!” Fiona said.
“You too.” I hugged her.
Heather backed away first. “I’m so sorry,” she said. I wondered where she was going with this. “You’re my friend. I should have—”
Fiona cut her off. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn’t mean to put everyone through this. I don’t know what I was thinking. I just…” She sat back down on the bed. When she looked up at us, her eyes were shining and wet. “Don’t know what happened. I really don’t.”
Heather sat on the bed and put an arm around Fiona. I grabbed the chair near the vanity table. “It’s okay,” she said. “We’re going to get through this together.”
Fiona shook her off. “You don’t get it. I’ve been sad in my life, sure, but I’ve never been depressed. Over the last few days, I’ve been examined by doctors, psychiatrists, psycho-everything and all they could say is I didn’t fit the profile for a suicide attempt. My mom was ready to think I did it for attention.” She choked out a sob. “But I didn’t.”
I’d never seen Fiona so emotional before, and it worried me. Was she denying what happened? “Hey,” I said. “It’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it. We can just hang out.”