Chapter Four

THE CURSE

“Push!” the nurse said encouragingly. The child’s father looked down approvingly, squeezing his wife’s hand. He had hated seeing the pain on his wife’s face, but the end result would make them happier than he’d ever been, even on the day he had met his wife.With an almighty groan, the newborn’s head landed heavily in the nurse’s waiting hands. “It’s a girl!” the nurse cried to a small round of applause from the gathered audience. They waited for the baby’s first breath. She whimpered and everyone gasped with pleasure. The newborn’s parents looked at the baby crying and wriggling in front of them. The mother held their new daughter lovingly in her arms, cradling the child carefully. The parents smiled at each other.

“Emilette.” The child’s mother said, smiling. The nurse nodded, writing down all the necessary information. Emilette’s father squeezed his wife’s hand. Various family members surrounded them. They all ooh-ed and ahh-ed over the new addition to their family.  They were all smiling and looking at the baby.

“Emilette,” they echoed appreciatively.

“Ten fingers, ten toes; dark hair, dark eyes-perfect,” Emilette’s mother grinned. “She looks just like her father. She is perfect.”

Indeed, the baby was perfect. She fit well into her mother’s arms, her dark hair curly and framing delicate features. Her eyes, bright as stars and dark as chocolate, met her mother’s for the first time. They seemed to speak the wisdom of the world.

“That’s all we wanted,” her father added. The nurses were cleaning up the mess and taking the baby’s measurements.

An old woman came forth from behind the crowd. She started to chant. It was old language. The parents watched, unsure what to say or do; wondering what exactly the old woman was doing. The baby’s mother assumed the woman was one of her husband’s crazy relatives, and the baby’s father expected that the mother knew theunusual chanting woman. The old woman looked at the couple, noticing their forced smiles, wondering, she knew, who this crazy old lady was.

“This baby is too lovely to see the rottenness of the world she has been brought into. She will get to see the world for a while, but I will not allow her to be an adult who will have to suffer the injustices. She will not survive to be seventeen. She will not grow past adulthood. You will not wish her to suffer. She will be better off without seeing such pain,” the old woman explained.

The mother started to cry. She was sobbing, the child shaking in her arms. She distantly felt the baby’s father drop her hand as it fell limply to her lap. The watchers were all quiet as they watched Emilette’s father walk out the door, not allowing his wife to see him cry. Everyone wept quietly along with the newborn’s mother.

“Mija,” she murmured, holding her daughter close. “I will protect you to the ends of the earth. I will not let this come true. Te amo mucho.”

The baby soon became a beautiful Spanish child, her dark hair and dancer’s body giving Emilette an Amazon quality. She wasraised carefully her whole life. Her mother sheltered her. She didn’t hide from the child what had happened. The child knew by the time she was eight that she was different.

The child was kept home from field trips, and everything she wanted to try was forbidden. She never rode a bike or roller bladed. She was given a pass from gym class, and when she was six and begged her mother to let her go to the beach with her best friend’sfamily, she was stricken to be denied. Her family generally never took vacation, and the whole house was padded to a level of safety that was never relaxed. Her life was like walking on eggshells. Her mother brought her to the doctor all the time, not that Emilette was ever ill. Emilette hated being different.

“It’s not important that you’re different,” Emilette remembered her mother snapping in a particularly bad mood, “it’s important that your safe.”

So Emilette lived on with all the questions until she was thirteen and was finally given the answer to all her questions.

“I’ve carried it around since I met you. But I didn’t want to tell you. I couldn’t, no, I wouldn’t do that to you. I couldn’t make you carry my pain. But you wanted to know, so that’s my story.” Emilette finished.

“And I'm so scared. You’re right, I’m weak and a coward,” Emilette conceded, her tears still streaming down her face.

Genevieve wanted to ask more, her natural curiosity getting the better of her, but she bit her tongue, telling herself that now, with Emilette as upset as she was, was not the time.

“No you’re brave to live with that, everyday. That’s being strong!” Genevieve comforted her friend.

Emilette sniffled. “I'm sorry, Em,” Genevieve ventured.

“Me too, Gen,” responded Emilette.

The bell rang for next period, but Genevieve had more to say to her friend. “I don’t want to fight, but you can’t keep it bottled up. No wonder you’re hurting.” Emilette nodded, still sniffling sadly. “But the curse should urge you on to live every day to the fullest. You need to go after…”

“No!” Emilette interrupted frantically. “After I shut him out like that, he won’t be interested.”

“If you want I can…Do you want me to ask Nick? Or I can talk to Kyle, or have Nick ask…” Genevieve offered, hoping this would make her friend smile. She hated seeing her friend so upset.

“Don’t bring me into you’re relationship,” Emilette said kindly.

“Friends first,” responded Genevieve. “I’ll ask him, OK?” Emilette nodded appreciatively. The girls hugged. They didn’t care that they were going to be late for their next period class. They were happy enough not to be fighting. Neither wanted to admit that it’d been a long weekend. They didn’t need to. They were close enough, that, without words, everything was said.

Chapter Five

If This Is A Dream

Genevieve found Nick that afternoon after swim practice. Sitting on the bleachers with a book, she squealed with laughter as Nick shook his full head of wet hair out all over her. Nick smiled his crooked grin at her, his boyish features lighting up.

“I thought you were mad at me, today in the lunchroom.”

Genevieve looked up with an apologetic smile. Nick turned serious when he saw Genevieve’s face. He threw a t-shirt on and sat next to her, looking carefully at her features, memorizing them as if he might be tested.

“I found out.” Genevieve said carefully. Nick leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her. She hardly minded, although the boy was soaked, and still wearing his swim trunks. She felt like she could really use a hug. She cried as she told him the whole story. “I don’t want to fight with her.” Genevieve sobbed. Nick smiled sympathetically.

“Tell that to Emilette.” Nick said. “Here’s a piece of advice:I’ve known Emilette since I was little and I swear this is true. She needs to trust her own judgment. If you tell her Kyle likes her, she’llrely on you her whole life. Don’t worry about Kyle and Emilette. Emilette needs to trust herself. Kyle likes her, but Emilette needs to figure that out herself.” Nicholas stroked Genny’s hair gently.

“That won’t help,” sniffed Genevieve. “She needs to know.”

“But, what she needs more, is to know when she’s ready to. She needs to trust her own judgment. It will help. Trust me. She needs to go when she’s ready, no matter what we want to see.”

Genevieve, nodded, her tear-stained face buried in Nick’s chest. Nick seemed to suddenly realize that he needed to get dressed and went to the locker room. Genevieve was left standing, alone, on the empty pool deck.

Nick left the locker room with Kyle, thinking quietly to himself, trying to wrap his mind around the great girl he had found. “Man, Kyle…”

Kyle put his hand on Nick’s shoulder. “I know, you’re solovesick.”

“And lucky, Kyle, really lucky,” Nick laughed. That was the truth.

“I think Emilette’s falling for you too.”

Nick was pleased to see Kyle smiling at this bit of news. “Justdon’t change, ya know? Not a thing, man. Not a thing.”

Kyle nodded agreeably. For a jock, Nick had to admit to himself, Kyle wasn’t quite that bad, certainly not as bad as they came. Kyle and Nick got on the bus, sitting beside each other companionably, but each lost in their own worlds of happiness. For them, each to have a girl, was their wish come true. They never did anything without the other, and dating was no exception.

Nick got off the bus two miles from the school, and left Kyle on the bus for the last four blocks.

Nick was happy, and that’s all Kyle wanted to know. He could thrive on that, even if Nick was wrong, and Emilette didn’t like him. But truly, he secretly hoped Nick was right.

As per usual, Genevieve’s phone rang as she walked through the door to her house, after walking three miles home. She had sat on the pool deck, stunned by the feeling she got from being around Nicholas, and, as a result, had missed the bus. Genevieve whipped her phone out. She didn’t want to tell her friend that she and Nick had been talking about her, but Genevieve refused to lie to Emilette. She flipped her phone open. “I waited for Nick after swim practice. Go bears!” Genevieve said, before her friend could ask. This much, at least, was not a lie. Genevieve laughed half-heartedly.  It made her smile to hear Emilette’s cheerful hello, she was glad they weren’t fighting.

“I was wondering why you hadn’t called.” Emilette responded, but sounded more happy than upset.

“I think you should trust you’re judgment.” Genevieve blurted. “You know how you think Kyle feels about you. You know how youfeel, how you think. Trust yourself. Not me, not Nicholas. Trustyour judgment.” Emilette was silent.

“Gen, I don’t know.”

Genevieve sighed, in the same way, she couldn’t help thinking,that she had gotten mad at Emilette for doing.

“Yes, you do.”

Emilette groaned. “I need to think about it,” she mumbled.

“You should.” Genevieve said abruptly, then hung up.

*​*​*

The next day passed without incident, Genevieve giving her friend the space she needed to think. Emilette wandered around in a trance, agonizing over everything, Genevieve had said, everything she thought she’d known before she started questioning herself, and everything she thought she knew about Kyle. Genevieve watched Emilette anxiously, hoping Emilette would come to her senses.

Kyle watched Emilette, unable to help but wonder what she was thinking. He waited until the end of the day, then came up beside her as she walked to the bus. He put a hand on her arm, trying to keep her from walking on, before she walked away, and he never again had the courage to tell her what he needed to say. He smiled as Genevieve picked up her pace and left them. Emilette rolled her chocolate-colored eyes. Kyle loved those deep pools of beauty. “Emilette.” He stuttered, seeing her dark eyes turn toward him. She tucked a strand of long black hair behind her ear. He traced it with his finger. Emilette blushed, a shiver running down her back. Genevieve watched with a satisfied smile, tuning and heading toward the bus. “I like you. Like like.” He emphasized. Emilette was nervous, but she smiled and leaned forward to feel Kyle’s warm embrace around her shoulders as the busses hissed away.

Genevieve watched out the window as her bus passed by her friend and Kyle. She sat silently on the bus, bored, until her stop. She jumped off, not unhappy with her lot for once. She had seen Nick plenty, and that made her more then thrilled, and to see her best friend happy made Genevieve feel even better. She listened to the bus hiss away, spewing black smoke in its wake. Her phone buzzed in her palm. The caller ID read “EMMY” in big letters. Genevieve flipped open her phone. Her friend squealed in her ear. “Ow! Em! What?”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she cried happily.

“What?”

“I spent the whole day thinking, and so when Kyle came over, I risked it. He said he does like me. And he drove me home, right before I got out, he grabbed me by the shoulder, and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and it was amazing. It made me feel like my skin was on fire.” Genevieve sighed happily. She knew how Emilette felt, and was happy to know that Emilette was feeling it.

Genevieve had seen Nicholas a few times and was pleased to have found him waiting for her at her spot at lunch, and outside a few of her classrooms. He made her feel like a princess. He was relaxed, and best of all, made her smile, and it was surprisingly easy going between them. Genevieve loved that when they hugged it felt like sparks were flying, and the few times they’d kissed, she felt as if her lips were on fire. Like Emilette had said about when Kyle kissed her on the cheek, wherever Nick’s lips explored felt as if they were engulfed in flame. They’d been dating for almost two weeks, but it felt as if they’d known each other infinitely. Genevieve distantly heard her friend asking about Nick, but didn’t want to let anyone in on her magical fantasy. “We saw each other at lunch,” she said vaguely, not mentioning that they’d sat in a companionable silence, the air around them filled with a million words they didn’t have to say. She left out how he had held her hand, rubbing it with his thumb like he had no idea that her skin was on fire.

Genevieve wanted to be alone with her dreams. “Listen, Em, I’ve got homework. Can I talk to you later?” Emilette agreed readily. She understood what it was like to want to just be alone with a fantasy when you were in love. She was beginning to feel the same. The girls hung up, at both ends happy as they’d ever imagined.

*​*​*

The following day found Nick, Genevieve, Kyle, and Emilette sitting easily together in the back hallway, all of them laughing and enjoying themselves. It wasn’t awkward, as all four had secretly feared. Genevieve felt a shiver go down her back. She was jealous of Emilette, who seemed to take it in stride so easily. Genevieve caught Nick smiling, with his chin resting on her bed of cherry-wood hair. Genevieve looked up at Nicholas, returning his smile. He leaned down and kissed her gently, lightly, but his lightest touch made her blush all the way to her toes. She felt the rush that never seemed to end, sighing heavily as the bell rang. She laid her head on Nick’s shoulder, his arm snaking around her. Genevieve closed the space between them, enjoying his warmth and closeness. Kyle sat on Genevieve’s other side, between her and her best friend. Emilette was leaning on his arm, Nick’s smile reflected on Kyle’s face. Nick stood up and offered Genny his hand. Kyle did the same for Emilette, both girls leaning happily on the boys’ arms, and both boys, with the most perfect girls beside them, felt as if they were floating on cloud nine.

Genevieve was almost unhappy that the school day ended. She and Emilette sat together on the bus, reviewing their day. Emilette was clearly happy to have found Kyle waiting for her outside “nearly every class!” She cried, causing half the bus to and turn and stare. The girls that had heard either rolled their eyes or gaveEmilette and Genevieve knowing smiles. Some might even call it sly, thought Genevieve suspiciously. Two of the smiling girls, Genevieve noted, were dating someone on the swim team. Melissa was dating Ian Rathorn. Melissa had dark curly locks and cat-like eyes that always made her look like she was up to trouble. Neither Genevieve nor Emilette trusted her, but Genevieve didn’t hate her either. As far as she was concerned Melissa existed, nothing special. Kind of like Genevieve herself, Genevieve admitted honestly. Elissa Jennings had been nice to Genevieve since Genevieve had joined the Swim Team Dating Pool, as Genevieve had secretly dubbed it. Elissa was dating Dylan Carson, and her glance, while mostly kind, made both Emilette and Genevieve squirm a bit uncomfortably. She caught Emilette’s eye and nodded, as if they were sharing some unspoken secret, her carrot-top ponytail bouncing. Emilette turned away.

“You want to come over?” Genevieve asked, turning to her friend. Emilette nodded.

Chapter Six

Find Out Who Your Friends Are…Fighting

Kyle and Nick sat in the cafeteria, waiting for swim practice to start. It was the night before the big school play opened, so there were mostly drama geeks wandering around; ”So how’s that geeky chick doing? Still like her, despite it all?” Nick glared at Kyle.

“Genevieve,” he said pointedly, “is fine.” Nicholas couldn’t help taking a dig back at Kyle; “How’s that Spanish girl?”

“Emilette,” Kyle responded, his tone matching Nick’s perfectly, “is everything, and more, than I was hoping.” Kyle refused to let it go at that. “I'm sure whoever you’re really interested in is being drawn closer by the day.” Nick pushed his chair back violently, standing over Kyle. Kyle stood up and the boys faced off, fists up. A crowd of drama kids surrounded them, cheering on their fight. In the back of his mind, Nick knew it was dumb to fight, and that the drama geeks were only cheering because nothing ever happened after school at South Bay, but Nick still felt the draw of their energy. Kyle thought how many people in the school would be enjoying the story. The co-captains of the swim team, fighting it out in the cafeteria, supposed best friends. But they both were too proud to back down and too angry at hearing their girlfriends insulted to consider their actions rationally.

In the back of the crowd, Lauren, standing stock-still, watched with stunned and horrified fascination as the action unfolded.Genevieve wouldn’t want this. She thought, but knew there was no chance of her stopping it on her own. She stood for a moment, watching the two circle each other, looking angrily across the gap that separated them. Lauren didn’t understand what they were fighting over, but she knew she had to stop it. Tucking a strand of short blonde hair behind her ear, Lauren ran off toward Drama Wing, where she knew she could find her friends. Any one of them would help, and stop the fight before things happened that would crush Genevieve, who was friends with almost everyone in Drama Wing. They wouldn’t want the fight to go on if it would hurt Gen.

Lauren ran, literally, into Antoine in the back hallway of Drama Wing. Antoine caught her easily and swung her around, Lauren smiling widely at him. Everyone was running around preparing for the show, in ridiculous costumes that gave the whole wing a comic air. That makes sense, considering the show’s acomedy, Lauren thought. The set managers were yelling into their walkie-talkies, and there were many kids practicing their lines, fixing their makeup, or studying the script. Kids were running around, actors and actresses were on stage in the auditorium, trying to perfect their scenes. Costume managers were fitting their actors into the outfits they’d wear on stage, and, in Lauren’s opinion, there was general mayhem, and she had serious doubts about ever finding Tyler and Vivian. Antoine led Lauren to where Vivian and Tyler, who had the leads in the play, were practicing. Vivian was leaning on Tyler Night, tracing the lines of his face. Lauren tried to explain to them what was happening, but she was talking so quickly Antoine covered her mouth with his briefly, lightly. Lauren lost everything in her head, and managed to squeak out instructions for them to follow her.

Lauren returned to the scene, Antoine, Vivian, and Tyler following her blonde head faithfully. Antoine assessed the situation quickly, and rushed into the middle of the cheering crowd. Tyler hung back, Vivian holding his hand understandingly. Tyler looked like a lost puppy amidst all the cheering drama kids. Vivian wasn’t saying, nor doing anything. Lauren couldn’t believe her friends wouldn’t do anything to help Genevieve. It’s up to me to stop it.Lauren thought. Before someone gets hurt. Lauren wasn’t feeling as understanding as her best friend. She pushed Tyler to the side, disgusted, muttering “coward,” and elbowed her way through the crowd behind Antoine’s shaggy brown head. The crowd partedrespectfully. Lauren laughed. She knew she was someone to be respected and feared for her acting talent and her attitude, not to mention how she handled conflict. And she knew that was why the crowd parted the way they did. But it didn’t stop her feeling quite superior as she waltzed to the center of the action,

Lauren reached the center of the group, where, Lauren was slightly happy to see, it appeared no punches had been thrown. Both boys circled each other wearily. Antoine stepped between them, a head shorter than the two boys and looking significantly smaller than the two opponents who faced each other off. Kyle and Nick glared at each other over the smaller boy’s head. Lauren was even shorter than Antoine, and a year younger, being only a junior, where Antoine was a senior, like Tyler. Kyle and Nick were juniors, but lacked respect for drama geeks regardless. Antoine’s seniority wasn’t helped by the shaggy brown hair which gave him a boyish quality, covering his ocean-blue eyes. Despite being shorter than Antoine, Lauren’s height was compensated by her attitude. Her short blonde hair and blue eyes had an effect that demanded respect, and for more than just her acting talent. Lauren kept all this in mind as she stepped beside Antoine between the two feuding boys. Lauren stepped sideways, putting a hand on Nick’s shoulder.“Genevieve wouldn’t want this.” She whispered. “She hates when people fight! Back down, now Nick. Someone’s gonna be hurt.” When this didn’t work, she added, “Genevieve’s gonna be hurt, Nick.” Lauren was happy to see Nick back a little way’s from Kyle, his fists up, but more relaxed. Kyle followed, lowering his hands to his side carefully. Lauren backed away. Kyle and Nick looked at each other, shaking hands.

“No harm no foul?” Kyle asked, grasping Nick’s hand. Nick nodded. Antoine smiled at Lauren, raising her pulse just a little. She took his hand and led him from the circle, as some of the drama kids dispersed, to be followed by a few others.

Vivian hugged her friend fiercely, her strawberry-blonde ponytail bouncing against her neck. “You were so brave!” Vivian squealed.

“But here’s the thing,” Lauren said, voice low and serious, “We don’t need to hell Gen. It will only worry her, and make her start hurting and worrying. None of us want that.” Lauren veered angrily on Tyler. “Or, at least, I don’t. You won’t raise a hand to help a friend. You are the worst kind of coward. You won’t even stand up for your friends. It’s such a shame.” Lauren marched off, followed by Antoine, who tried, in vain, to calm Lauren’s mood.

*​*​*

Unknown to everyone, Genevieve had seen everything. She’d had to go back to school for her history book. Since she was falling behind in class, it had been deemed “necessary” by her father. Genevieve had hated the whole scene. She’d watched with fascinated horror that resembled Lauren’s. She was angry and hurt. Worse, she was scared. What if Nicholas had gotten hurt? What would Nick have told her? Another question nagged Genevieve, and that was what to tell Emilette. Genevieve had been pleased, however, watching Lauren step into the middle of the fray to stand up for Genevieve. Genevieve’s mom had always said that’s how you knew who you’re friends were. Genevieve watched as Kyle and Nick headed toward the natatorium, and then, clutching her History book, scampered to the door of the school.

“Everything OK?” Genevieve’s dad asked over dinner. Genevieve had a weekend at her father’s once a month, and this was it. Genevieve loved staying over at her father. Because they so rarely saw each other, she highly prized their time together. She didn’t harbor fantasies of her father suddenly deciding to move back, like some divorced kids. Genevieve had been living with the divorce her whole life. It didn’t bother her. But she did wonder, but times like this, she was glad she had just her dad, not both parents, because this was one thing she could not discuss with her mother.

They had ordered Chinese food, Genevieve’s favorite. “Gen? What happened?” Genevieve rolled her eyes. Her dad knew her too well.

“Yesterday, Nick and Kyle got in a fight. They had both insulted the other’s girlfriend.” The word still sent chills down Genevieve’s back. “Me and Emilette.” She explained to her confused father. Genevieve’s dad looked uncomfortable, but he nodded, so Genevieve continued. “Lauren saw it and tried to stop it. It was great. But I heard them after. They aren’t planning on telling me. I don’t know how to tell anyone I saw anything.”

“Don’t,” Genevieve’s dad said around a mouthful of Chow Mein. Genevieve nodded.

“That’s what I was thinking too. Thanks dad.”

“He fought for you, so obviously he likes you, Genny-girl.” Genevieve nodded. “But I can’t say I like it.”

“Dad, you said he was standing up for me!”

“I meant you dating.”

“Dad!”

“And I haven’t met the boy.” Genevieve’s father finished.

Genevieve laid in her room that night and found that she wasn’t even surprised that she hadn’t heard from Nick. He no doubt couldn’t face Genevieve, couldn’t lie to her, but didn’t want to tell her what happened, so he wouldn’t say anything. Genevieve’s father checked in on her and saw her staring at the ceiling. “Baby girl, he just doesn’t know how to face you, I'm sure it’ll be OK. Go to sleep.I love having you here You’re going back to your Mom’s tomorrow.Sleep is necessary, it’ll give you the strength you need to give that boy a piece of your mind tomorrow. Just don’t break his neck. I want to at least meat him first.” Genevieve laughed and rolled over. This was why she loved her father. Even in a dark situation, he could make her feel so much better. She closed her eyes, grateful for the merciful escape of sleep.

Chapter seven

Not Just One Funeral…

Emilette was waiting on the couch when Genevieve walked in. She was crying. Genevieve ran in and hugged her. “Tomorrow’s my birthday. I'm so scared!” She sobbed. “I'm jumping at every corner, and…” Genevieve nodded sympathetically.

“Stay here.” Genevieve said automatically.

“No.” Emilette shook her head. “I’ll slip on a stair, or start coughing up blood, or something.” Genevieve cried as loudly as her friend. “I just came to hope for some luck. That maybe it’s all a fairytale or a dream. And tomorrow I’ll wake up.” Genevieve nodded, even though she knew something was going to go wrong. She could feel it in her soul, somewhere deep inside her, she knewsomething was about to go wrong

“It’ll be OK,” she promised her friend, but was trying so hard to console Emilette, hoping that Emilette might believe her, but Genevieve knew there was no fighting a curse. Something in the back of her mind told her it was no use. Genevieve waited until Emilette’s tears subsided. The look of hope on her friend’s face sent spasms of pain through Genevieve’s mind.

*​*​*

Emilette left Genevieve’s house, still feeling doubtful, no matter the face she put on for Genevieve. Her mind cleared, however, the second she came within sight of her house, when she saw Kyle’s car waiting outside of her house. She quickened her pace. Kyle’s face lit up when she knocked on his window. He unlocked the doors, and Emilette climbed into the passenger seat.

They rode in silence. Emilette hadn’t told Kyle about the curse, so she tried to keep her face from betraying her feelings.

“So where are we going?” Emilette asked.

“The park,” Kyle answered. He pulled next to the curb, opened his door, and came around to Emilette’s side. He opened her door grandly, and Emilette found herself in a park decorated with twinkling white Christmas lights that gave the whole thing an air of romance. He leaned into the car, and soft romantic music played from the speakers. Kyle pulled a blanket out of the trunk and laid it out. Emilette sat down. Kyle sat beside her, setting down the picnic basket he had pulled out after the blanket between them.

Kyle leaned over and kissed Emilette gently on the cheek. Emilette blushed. Her first kiss…it was amazing. Emilette nuzzled Kyle’s neck playfully. He leaned over and pulled out the food he had packed. A ham-and cheese and sandwich with mayonnaise for himself, a roast beef and turkey sub for Emilette, and a bag of potato chips, and another of pretzels. He followed this with a bottle of cranberry juice. “Sorry, no wine,” he laughed, and poured two glasses, handing one to Emilette as they clinked their glasses. Emilette smiled, forgetting the curse for one moment, drinking the sweet juice as it ran down her throat. She took a small bite out of her sandwich, then, reaching over Kyle, took a handful of the crunchy chips, and, laughing, poked a pretzel through Kyle’s open mouth. “Not what I was hoping for,” he joked, “but it’s delicious.”

Emilette rewarded his humor with a brief kiss. Soon Kyle was leaning over; their meals forgotten, as Kyle’s lips found hers again and it lasted longer, as if it were only the two of them under the stars. He grabbed her around the waist, and Emilette moved closer to him. She knew she loved him, and that this was the only boy she ever wanted. She felt deliriously happy as Kyle covered her mouth with his, and she enjoyed the lasting kiss. He tasted sweet, and smelled of the cologne she loved on him. It was like dark chocolate, his breath. Sweet, with an air of something forbidden to her.Someone so much higher socially than her, and yet, here they were, under the stars, in the most romantic way in the world to her. Kyle finally pulled away and looked at Emilette’s face for clues. “I love you.” He said. “I love you so much it hurts.” Emilette responded, leaning her head on Kyle’s shoulder. Kyle kissed her, his light touch a reminder of how much Emilette wanted to kiss him again. “Your eyes sparkle like the stars above us. Dark pools of chocolate.” Kyle said, whispering.

Emilette looked at Kyle. “And you, there’s nothing I would change. These lights, everything is beautiful.” Emilette said.

“I'm distracted by more lovely sights.” Kyle responded, looking into her eyes, wanting to get lost again in her sweet heart shaped lips, as if her face wanted to betray to the world that she was open to love.

“I wish I could drive, so that I could take you on trips like this.” Emilette sighed. Kyle took out his keys.

“Take it out for a spin. No one’s around.” Emilette sighed and got up. Still in a trance, she started the ignition. She couldn't believe it. She was in love. She turned the car onto the street. Kyle watched as she turned the corner. That was the last time he saw her alive.

The squeal of the tires was loud. Emilette felt herself lose control. She suddenly was looking down at a ravine. The ravine was deep. It seemed like forever until the car stopped turning over and over. Time seemed to stretch into infinity. Everything was in slow-motion, as if swimming under water, or in a dream, as if everything was blocked by a heavy cloud. Emilette struggled against the seatbelt, against the crushing weight of the car. She finally sat back, giving in. She waited until the air ran out, until she was numb.Finally, she thought, peace. She let the darkness take over her, Kyle’s face the last thing she saw. She distantly heard Kyle’s voice. “Don’t die! They’re coming! I love you, Em! Don’t….” The rest was lost to the fog in her mind, the red seeping into her vision.

“Love…you….Ky…” She murmured.

*​*​*

Genevieve was doing her Psychology homework when her phone rang. It was Nicholas. Genevieve laughed as she answered the phone; “hello?”

“It’s Emilette. She’s dead.” Nicholas said. Genevieve stopped laughing abruptly, feeling involuntary tears prickling behind her eyes. She clicked the phone shut, praying it wasn’t true. The house phone rang soon after. Emilette’s parents had called to ask Genevieve to come to the hospital, shattering any hope Genevieve had of it being a nightmare. Without bothering with telling her mother, Genevieve hurriedly put on her coat and walked the six blocks by herself in the cold winter air, wondering how, on such a beautiful night, how her friend, as lovely as the night under which she was walking, could have died on a night like this. The curse was real. Genevieve had hoped it wouldn’t be. Em had been so close to home, and yet, the curse had been there, waiting to come true, right on schedule. Genevieve let a fresh batch of tears overwhelm her as she walked into the emergency room. Emilette’s parents, as close to Gen as Genevieve’s own, rushed forward and hugged her. Behind them was Kyle, who had arrived with the ambulance. He told Genevieve what happened.

“How?” She asked.

“I don’t know,” Kyle said, looking close to tears. “I heard the tires squeal as she went around the corner, then I heard a crash. I ran over, and the car was at the bottom of the ravine. I called the ambulance, her parents, then I called Nick. Told him to call you.” A police officer came over to where they were all standing in a tearful huddle.

“The car turned over six times. She would have died from head trauma, we believe.”

“Her face was so covered in blood,” Kyle murmured, “out of her mouth and eyes…” Kyle looked like he wanted to cry again.

“Not your fault son. She took the keys.” The police officer said soothingly. “The air bags deployed. All the physical abuse by the car, and eventually the crushing weight of it turned over on her, caused her death.” It didn't escape the tearful groups' notice that the officer neglected to mention whether she died instantly. The thought that she was in pain when she died brought Genevieve to tears again.

A doctor came and joined their sad little group. “I'm sorry. There was nothing we could do. But you’re welcome to go see her.” Kyle and Genevieve led the mad rush through the doors of Emilette’s room, where Emilette was lying still, as if she was just asleep.

Genevieve kneeled by her friend’s bed. “No!” she cried. “You’re NOT dead, Em! Come back, now. Wake UP!” Genevieve yelled, as a hand landed heavily on her shoulder.

“She’s gone, Gen.” Nick’s deep voice came from behind her. Genevieve turned around, and leaned against his leg, sobbing as the tears came out willingly, like a dam being opened.

“She can’t be gone.” She said softly. Emilette’s father, who, to Genevieve, had always been so strong about everything, broke down when he laid eyes on his daughter.

“Sweetie, it’s ok.” He said to Genevieve, or maybe to his daughter, no one could tell.

“She’s gone, Gen.” Emilette’s father said quietly, turning toward the girl he had always considered his other daughter, unable to say anything that hadn't been said before.

Emilette’s mother laid a hand on her daughter’s pale, cold hands. She was weeping quietly as Genevieve’s parents walked through the door. Genevieve’s mother couldn’t stand Genevieve’s father, but they both came over and stiffly hugged their daughter. “I'm sorry sweetheart. I know you were close to her.” Genevieve’s father said.

“She never should of left our house!” cried Genevieve. “I shouldn’t of let her leave!”

Emilette’s father laid a hand on Genevieve’s shoulder. “Gen, you were like our daughter. Anything you want, or need…from Emilette, or us…” Gen nodded appreciatively. Genevieve’s mother was comforting Emilette’s.

Kyle was by the window, murmuring about how if he had never shown up that things wouldn’t have happened. He walked over and stood over Emilette’s pale form. “I'm sorry, Emmy.” He said. “It’s my fault. You shouldn’t have died tonight. If not for me, you’d still be alive.” He broke down crying then, and Nick comforted his best friend, leaving Genevieve to her father.

*​*​*

Genevieve finally allowed herself to be led out by Nicholas. He hugged her goodbye and left her at the bank of elevators. Her parents, Emilette’s father, and, to Genevieve's disgust, Kyle, had left hours ago. Genevieve and Emilette’s mother sat and consoled each other. They were taking Em down to the morgue in the morning, so Emilette’s mother was staying by her daughter, an all night vigil. “Mija,” she said, grabbing Genevieve’s wrist.

“He’s a good boy. I don’t blame him. Tell Kyle.” Genevieve nodded, walking out of the room with tears stinging the back of her eyes. She hadn’t stopped crying all day.

*​*​*

The funeral was short in coming. Nick, Genevieve, Kyle, and Emilette’s parents were there. Genevieve’s parents came, as did Kyle's and Nick’s.

Everyone in black, it was raining, as if even the heavens wept the end of Emilette's wonderful life. and there seemed to be a shadow from more than the clouds. The priest said a few words, and Emilette was laid to rest, as everyone bawled. Genevieve thought of following the coffin, rather than live without her best friend. But she knew Emilette would never approve. She’d want Gen to be strong. So Genevieve stood rigidly by, feeling the tears stream down her face as her best friend was buried under the earth. “She’ll like it, sleeping under the stars.” Emilette’s father said.

“Her eyes were always at their most lovely then,” Kyle added. Nick nodded, and Genevieve broke down, crying loudly. Emilette’sfather led her from the service.

“She was my best friend. That’s all anyone should know,” Genevieve cried insistently to Emilette's father. The man, seeming aged by years in just a few days, nodded.

"No one will ever negate that, sweetheart. You saw her that night. You were there for her." Everyone followed Genevieve from the graveyard, leaving the diggers to their work. But life wouldn’t be the same, and they all knew it. Something would always be missing.

“Emilette was something special,” Nick said, summing up everyone’s

feelings as he stood in front of the group, the first to speak. Everyone made some form of non-committal sound, but no one could say anything. "she wouldn't want us to weep." He continued, looking at Genevieve. "She would want us to live. To smile, to celebrate her life." Nick said, stepping over to Genevieve and taking her hand. Emilette’s mother broke down openly, and Emilette’s father sped away. Genevieve watched as her mother comforted Emilette’s. Genevieve got quietly into the car, and let the car take her away from the only person she’d ever known as a best friend, the person who cared and changed Gen’s whole life. Genevieve wished she had words she could say, but her tears spoke volumes. Even Emilette, watching somewhere, knew that.

*​*​*

The next day Genevieve awoke to sirens. Nick had left three messages on Genevieve’s phone. Kyle’s body had been found at the ravine. Covered by the trees, he had sat in the exact same spot, where the wreckage hadn’t yet been cleaned from Emilette’s fatal crash, and cut his wrists with his dad’s hunting knife. Nick sounded broken, like he was crying. According to the police, his body had been badly damaged, his veins cut deep. He’d been grasping a photo of Emilette and on the back had written “I won’t live without you.”The pool of blood stained the brightly lit fall leaves in a dark ruby liquid that had drained from Kyle and ended his life. Nick said that they had already taken him to the morgue, that he was dead on arrival at the hospital. His parents had asked to have him laid next to Emilette. Emilette’s parents had agreed.

The days seem to pass slowly, even slower than the days thathad passed between Emilette's death and burial. This time, at least, they had confirmation that he died the way he wanted to, and that the pain was short. The funeral was three days after his death, and Genevieve, as Nick had done for her, was there for Nick every day of his grief.

Doing her due duty, Genevieve went to the graveside with Nicholas, as Nick had done for her. It hurt her to picture Kyle so destroyed, and to be back at her friend’s grave so soon brought forth a fresh batch of tears. Genevieve and Nick sat together and cried.

At the graveside, everyone cried. There were fewer people, smaller than Emilette’s. Emilette's parents found themselves too upset to go. "I can't go back to her grave. Not so soon." Emilette's father had said. Genevieve's parents had to work, and, they said, wanted to support her, but couldn't bring themselves to deal with another death. “What if the next one,” Genevieve’s mother had asked, “Is you?”

“Too much young blood shed,” Kyle’s father said, at the end of the service. This time there was no brave speech, just unspoken pain. Nick broke down sobbing, and Genevieve held him.

“At least,” she consoled him, “you didn’t have to see his body.” 

Nick nodded and left his friend’s side, but he was hurting. He tried to show no tears, because, Kyle always said, “that’s not how real men do it.”

Remembering these words gave Nicholas strength. He put his head up. He couldn’t believe that Kyle had died exactly where Emilette had just a few days before. Genevieve had told him Emilette didn’t believe in self-pity. He knew Emilette would never want Kyle to die for her. And yet, he had. Nick knew he’d do that for Genny, but imagining what it must have looked like, how that must of felt…Nick couldn’t fathom it. Nick was haunted by the fight between him and his friend, all the questions that would never be answered. He was sure to be there when the tombstone was laid a few days later, hoping to somehow find Kyle’s spirit.