Earthshine

“Clear your schedule! This might take a while,” Lydia entered Allison’s room shaking large shopping bags excitedly. Rowan smiled sheepishly behind the strawberry blond.

“How many outfits did you get? How many do you plane on wearing tonight?” Allison walked to the bed where Lydia had begun laying out the dresses.

“It’s my birthday.” She began pulling outfits to her front. “I’m thinking host dress. Evening… then erm after hours casual.” She waved her hand. Rowan sat at Allison’s desk chair, not in the mood for dress talk. She’d woken up the morning after the rave with a blaring headache and no recollection of how she’d returned home. Lydia had been downstairs speaking with her aunt about various things and neither seemed bothered when Rowan appeared late to breakfast. When asked how they’d gotten home, Lydia described them driving home, even with several conversations that had been included.

“What do you care about Jackson?” Lydia’s voice broke her from her trance. Allison was looking back at the girl with an almost shocked expression. Lydia stood there with an accusing glare.

Does she know? Rowan thought.

“Do you know if he’s coming?” Allison pushed. Rowan didn’t understand the hidden context that was passing between the two.

“Over course he’s coming,” she stood from her seat and stepped around to the bed. It was the first time both girls had given her a glance. “Everyone’s coming. It’s Lydia’s birthday party.” She insisted, casting a slide glance to Allison. “I’ve heard it’s the biggest social event of the year.” Lydia smiled in victory, turning back to her pile of clothes. Allison gave Rowan worried smile.

“This is American Rag,” she held it up. “For me, not you two.” She reached for another small dress. “This is Material Girl, for you,” she handed Allison. “And you, Rowan... Manila!” she exclaimed the brand she’d never heard pulling out a turquoise dress.

“Lydia-“ A knock at the door caused all three girls to turn. Allison’s mother stood stern as always, a tight smile forced onto her face.

“Mrs. Argent!” Lydia greeted twirling with a blue dress. “What do you think of this one?” she beamed.

“It’s lovely.” She responded. Her attention particularly on Allison, only one hesitant gaze shot toward Rowan. “Allison, can I um grab you for a moment… to talk.” She prompted. This caused Rowan to look closer at the woman. She was much different than the other few times she’d seen her. Her skin was lightly glistening with a sheer coat of sweat. Her eyes were rimmed with an irritated pink color, and her posture was failing. “Just the two of us.” She added, another side glance to Rowan.

“Um, can we do it later?” she asked. Lydia pulled Rowan off the bed and held the short and very sheer dress up to her, pulling it tightly at her sides to show the fit of the dress. Lydia was babbling about how to do her hair and her makeup. But Rowan was too intrigued with the tension in the room.

“Wear a good bra with this.” Lydia said tutting her tongue against her front teeth. “And by good I mean black. And lace.” He smiled. “Just in case Isaac shows up.” She raised her brow reaching for a pair of shoes.

“What?” Rowan asked completely shocked.

“Please. Before, you might’ve gotten away with it; but I saw you two last night, and that was not just dancing.” She gave an all-knowing look when Rowan struggled for words in protest. “That’s what I thought. We’re going to get you laid.” She whispered with her back turned to Mrs. Argent. Allison stood her ground to her mother refusing to go and talk to her.

The look that crossed the magenta haired woman was one Rowan never could’ve imagined on her. It was hurt. It was a mask of lost hope. The woman gripped her shoulder lightly before ultimately backing down the hallway. Lydia continued holding up clothing like it was a fashion show, Allison not skipping a beat.

Rowan thought hard about the situation at hand, but was forced to move the thoughts deep into her mind when she was pulled back into the fiasco.



“And your sure you don’t need help?” Rowan asked again as they moved their way up to the front door.

“This is a man’s world, Rowan. To love, we must conquer.” He recited confidently unable to see in front of the large pink an yellow birthday box her carried.

“Uh huh.” She smirked ringing the doorbell. Lydia opened the door, her usual unamused face present, as she held the tray of glasses.

“Happy birthday!” Stiles sang shaking the box back and forth rapidly. “Coming in!” he rammed the sides of the box against the frame trying to get by, but it seemed it was almost out of luck.

“Here,” Rowan sidestepped the large package pulling it from the other side.

“Yeah, grab that side maybe?” he called over the edge.

“Don’t forget to try the punch!” Lydia called. Eventually the box made it once adjusted on its side. By that point Lydia had made her way back into the house and away from the scene.

“Wow!” Stiles gasped setting the box down and breathing heavily. His hands were gripping his knees with his back hunched. He went to look up but instead came face to face with Rowan’s lace-clad thigh. “You know, you look really nice.” He then straightened up quickly.

“Thanks, but I’m starting to think it was for nothing…” her whispers trailed off as she gestured to the view as they made their way through the house. She could see Allison standing by the pool, Scott was making his way over to them, and then some random boy and girl they passed in the hallway.

“Stiles,” Scott greeted. It was then silent for a minute. Stiles gave a dubious expression before Scott peeked the small brunette. “Uh, Rowan.” he added. “Where is everyone?”

“That’s what we were wondering.”

“Jackson’s not here.” Allison chimed joining their trio.

“No one’s here.”

“Maybe it’s just early,” Scott thought aloud.

“Or maybe nobody’s coming because Lydia’s turned into the town whackjob.” Stiles so cheerfully added.

“We’ve got to do something, we’ve been completely ignoring her the past couple of weeks.”

“That and it’s her birthday.” Rowan added.

“She’s ignored Stiles the last ten years.” Scott added. Rowan couldn’t help release a small giggle.

“I prefer to think of it as me not having been on her radar.” Stiles explained animatedly.

“Point is, we don’t owe her a party.”

“We could try. She wouldn’t be the town whackjob if it weren’t for us.”

“I guess I could get my Co-captain status to get the lacrosse team here.” At the words, something in Rowan perked up. She could feel the butterflies in her stomach and the anticipation growing at the thought of one specific player.

“I know some people who can get this thing going.” Stiles sheepishly admitted. He scratched the back of his neck avoiding any wandering glances. “Like, really going.”

“Who?”

“Just some people I met the other night.” He added before simply walking away. Within fifteen minutes various members of the school’s sports team began showing up, yet no sign of a certain lacrosse player.
Stiles and Scott were across the pool talking when Stiles was suddenly enveloped in a large hug. “He invited drag queens.” Allison said. “I can’t believe he invited drag queens.”

“They do know ho to party.” Rowan added. “What Lydia wants, Lydia gets.” As soon as she said he words, the strawberry blonde was floating over to them with her tray of punch in hand. Without saying anything, she slid the two girls new glasses.

“I knew the dress would look fabulous on you. Though, your hair… well, it looks effortless.” She smirked and strutted away, being sure to hand Scott and Stiles their drinks as well. Rowan took a sip of the punch, a bitter floral test flooding her mouth.

“Hibiscus?” she questioned smelling the punch. The after taste was much sweeter and intoxicating.

“Not bad, right?” Allison said over the rim of her glass.

Three glasses of punch later, the party was really underway. Rowan couldn’t help but sway to the music as she searched for his eyes. She closed hers, letting her mind bring her into his arms. She remembered how they danced so close.
Rowan opened her eyes again, completely freezing when she realized there was no music. There were no people either. Everything was silent. The water in the pool was still and motionless. The moon hung bright in the sky.

“Hello?” she called. Nothing. “Lydia?” She looked around from where she stood. “Stiles?” Not a notion of life. “Hell, Scott?” she called. A snarl ripped the air. Chills shot up her spine and she spun around. The space in front of her now was eerily peaceful. She wanted to call out again, but she didn’t know what to say, but the shrill cry of a baby stopped her. She turned to the pool where the crying was coming from. However, instead of finding a baby, she came face-to-face with herself. Her eyes were dark brown, her hair was matted with twigs, and fresh scratches littered her skin. Rowan stood unmoving as she watched herself. The eyes she looked into were cold and fearless; and yet, they looked right.

The brown-eyed Rowan began taking steps back. Her bare feet left bloody prints all the way to the edge of the pool, eyeing her like a predator. Her feet reached the brink, her heels barley balancing above the water.

“Wa-“ she tried to warn her mirror image, but a muddy hand gripped tightly on her arm holding her frozen. The punch glass slipped from her hand. The shards of glass scattered without making a sound. An eerie grin stretched across her pale skin. The water in the pool began to rumble and foam. What started as a snicker, quickly turned into a gut-wrenching laugh. The water faded from it’s crystal blue to a dark murky substance. The muddy ink began dispersing, consuming all light reflected in the water. The darkness bubbled furiously.

The grip on her arm tightened and Rowan struggled furiously against it. “Stop,” she cried. She heard the growl again, this time it sounded into a sharp yelp. The cry of pain pulled her eyes to where the sound came from. Her eyes went wide.

Rowan glanced in horror at the backyard that was now filled with the mutilated corpses of the partygoers. She heard the crying bark and her eyes found Isaac. His face was twisted in pain. The grip on her arm once again constricted against her skin, with the added pressure Isaac’s head fell back as he screamed in pain. “No, stop, you’re hurting him!” she cried. She turned back, frantically trying to removed the elongated fingers that were wrapped tightly around her wrist. She found the cruel, humored face with brown eyes staring at her. “Stop, please,” it voiced with her. Their mouths moved in unison. “No…” Nails locked into her skin and the pressure of the grip was enough to cruncher bones. “NO!” she screamed hearing Isaac writhe in pain before falling silent. On instinct she shoved her hands forward into the abdomen of the other Rowan. The girl smiled falling into the pool.

Her body made a sickening smack against surface. The still blue water sounded like mirrors shattering all around.

Just as the water broke, music began playing again. She whipped her head around, finding the drunken dancing and mindless provocateurs back in their own worlds.

“I can’t swim!” she heard a gurgled voice call at her. She looked down in front of her seeing the camera guy struggling to keep his head above water. His hands were outreached to her. “Help- please!” Her shoulder was shoved hard as Jackson raced past her and to the pool’s edge. Reaching in he pulled the boy out. His breathing was labored and his clothes were drenched. Jackson kept his murderous eyes locked onto Rowan.

Matt looked at Rowan, and she could physically feel his silent threat. “What are you looking at!” he yelled. Jackson stood calmly behind him.

“I’m-I’m sorry, I didn’t-“ Rowan stumbled realizing she had been the once to push him. Sirens wailed in the background.

“Cops are here! Party’s over!” some guy yelled. Immediately chaos broke out. Matt was gone from in front of her as well as Jackson. Her eyes stayed on the water of the pool. She hadn’t meant to push him- but the girl.

The sirens were louder now as the cops turned onto the street. “Lydia,” she thought aloud, “Lydia!” she yelled running quickly away from the pool and into the house. “Lydia!” she called again up the stairs. The redhead was nowhere to be found in the house. She swiftly exited the home. She found Stiles standing in the frenzy outside.

“Stiles, I can’t find her. I can’t find Lydia.” She rushed to his side.

“We can’t either.” She looked amongst the crowd. “It wasn’t you,” he gave her a small smile. “There was something in the punch. Everyone was acting out of their minds.”

“That’s thing.” She spoke staring at the flashing blue lights. "Lydia put it in there."