Wink Poppy Midnight - April Genevieve Tucholke Page 0,54

and were slippery like eels . . . I never told anyone, did you?

And Thomas shook his head and then I got up and went around the circle, I whispered in all their ears, I whispered all their secrets, and they watched and stared and I sashayed around them and let my hips flick side to side, let my long spine arch and my hair swing, I was the Queen, I was the villain, I ruled them all. I let their worship wash right over me like a cool rain, like the rain outside, cooling down the sky, and it felt so good I wanted to scream scream scream with joy, keep staring, you fools, keep staring, soak it up, soak it up, soak me up, like rays of sunshine after a storm, there’ll never be anyone like me again, never ever ever ever.

Midnight was last, I went around the circle and saved him for last, I sat in his lap and gripped his hair in my fingers and he looked horrified, beautifully and genuinely horrified and my red hair fell around his cheeks and I pushed my chest into his and whispered in his ear, I’m sorry I teased you about the magic tricks that one time, I felt bad about it afterward, I really did, I’m sorry I teased you about everything, Midnight, all of this, the letters and the séance, all of it was for you, just so I could say I miss you, god, how I miss you, time goes slower where I am, it feels like years since I last crawled into your bed, years and years, I just wanted to see you one last time, Midnight, I needed to say I’m sorry, I—

He pushed me off of him, right off, like I burned, like I was poison.

And my foot hit a candle and the candle hit the blanket and then . . .

Fire.

WINK MADE US all hold hands. I took hers in my right, Buttercup’s in my left.

Jasmine. That was first.

The smells of the Roman Luck house, the smells of dust and rot and woods and mold . . . gone, all gone.

And the air filled with jasmine.

The Yellows smelled it too. Their eyes went wide. I saw it. They knew what it meant. The smell was thick, sickly, and I wanted to cover my nose with my hand but Wink had warned us not to let go.

Wink.

“Poppy, are you here?” she said. Her voice was calm and clear and soft.

Silence.

I squeezed her hand.

“I’m listening, Poppy. I’m ready.”

Silence.

It started small. Wink’s eyes closed, and her lips drew tight, tight, as if her face was trying to swallow her mouth. Her cheeks sunk in. Hard, dark, hollow bruises.

The Yellows stopped turning their heads and sniffing the air. We all froze.

Wink’s head tilted back, so far her hair touched the floor, and her body went rigid, it snapped, like a rope pulled tight, like the rope that we used to tie up Poppy, snap, her wrists to the piano.

The things that came out of her mouth . . .

Gibberish and swearing and moaning. Guttural groans and sobs. On and on. Wink jerked and strained against my fingers but I didn’t let go, I didn’t let go. Her head whipped sideways and her back arched and tears streamed from her green eyes . . .

What should I do? I wanted to stop it, I had to stop it, but I was scared, so scared, was this what Poppy had wanted? For Wink to come to the Roman Luck house and let the unforgivables in, let them destroy her too? Wink said bad things would happen if we let go, but I wanted to let go of her hand, I wanted to shake her, shake the unforgivables out of her, god, it was horrible, no wonder Poppy had died, left alone with them, how could we have done it?

Wink started screaming and I screamed with her and Zoe and Buttercup screamed too and Briggs shouted and Thomas was silent and . . .

And, suddenly, it stopped.

Wink hushed. Everything, her voice, her arms, her hair, hush.

Her fingers went limp.

She straightened, and opened her eyes.

The thunderstorm hit, right then, right that very second. Rain slapped the broken shards of the bay window, plop, plop, and then faster and faster. Thunder cracked so hard the ground started shaking, or maybe it was just me, shaking and shaking. I couldn’t seem to stop shaking.

Wink yanked her hand away. Her fingers slipped right