Scary Cool (The Spellspinners) (24 page)

The gym doors were open, spilling colored l
ight on
to the breezeway
running
alongside the building
. We could hear the thump of bass all the way from the admin building.
Tres
took my hand and together we walked toward the action.

Again, I felt odd and uncomfortable about holding his hand—and again, I didn’t know what to do about it. Short of hurting his feelings, there didn’t seem to be much I
could
do. So I held his hand, inwardly cursing myself for not being better prepared.
I should have realized what I was in for. I
should have known what
Tres
would expect. I
should have
thought.

Next, of course, I would have to slow-dance with him.
Repeatedly.
It was going to be a long night.

Just as we approached the door, he surprised me by pulling me up against the wall and pinning me there with one hand on either side of my body. There was a light in his eyes that I’d sometimes seen before when he looks at me—a light that makes me feel anxious and guilty. I flattened myself against the brick and tensed, an instinctive defensive posture. But
Tres
laughed and shook his head.

“Zara,” he said. “I can read you like a book. I know you only want to be friends. Relax.”

I smiled warily. “Relax?”

“Yeah.
Sure. Of course.” But the light in his eyes was still there. “Don’t you get it? This is my fantasy, taking you to a dance. I had to ask you. I might never get another chance.
” His smile turned wistful, and I glimpsed sadness behind the light in his eyes. “I’ll live on this the rest of my life.”

And he kissed me.

I couldn’t believe it.

It never would have happened if he hadn’t caught me off guard like that, b
ut he just sneaked it right in. R
ight past my defenses.

First thought: Well, that was weird.

Second thought: Excellent—now I have an excuse not to let him drive me home.

Third thought:
Wait a minute.
My
first kiss
was from
Tres
Palacios?!

It was the third thought that made me angry. I put my hands on his shoulders and pushed him away. “Not cool,” I said.

“Worth it,” he said.

His arms were still braced against the wall, on either side of my head. I ducked underneath one and started to walk a
way.

And that’s when I saw Lance.

My heart seemed
to stutter at the sight of him.

He was wearing a suit, but
not
like
Tres’s
. It was a bad-boy suit
, sleek and well-cut and expensive. It
made him look like a rock god—or maybe a
Mafioso
.
He was lounging against the
breezeway
post across from the open door of the gym, with the
colored light pouring over him and his kryptonite eyes glittering with malice, staring me down.

He wa
s heartbreakingly gorgeous. But his expression was that of a gunslinger at high noon. His eyes met mine as I walked toward him, and they might as well have been leveled at me across a pistol. He looked like he was
ready
to shoot me down in cold blood.

And
I couldn’t read his mind at all. His thoughts were utterly closed to me.

Had he watched
Tres
kiss me? I couldn’t tell.

Did it matter? I couldn’t decide.

And then the door to the girls’ restroom opened and out spun Cheryl
Sivic
in a sky blue satin knockout of a dress. She walked right up to Lance and grabbed his arm, smiling up at him in a way that made me long to claw her eyes out. Lance gave me one last look as he straightened up, then he turned to Cheryl and smiled back at her.

My stomach twisted itself into a cold little knot.

I didn’t realize I had stopped dead in my tracks until
Tres
touched my arm. I blinked at him like I was waking from a nightmare. My personal nightmare—
or it would have been, if it had ever crossed my mind that it was remotely possible.
Lance dating Cheryl, my least favorite person on earth. Cheryl, who had done her best to make my life miserable since I was eight years old. Cruel, snobby, popular Cheryl, who had started ev
eryone calling me “Spook
” and
who
needled me every chance she got.

And Lance knew what she was and what she’d done to me
.
And how it had made me feel.
Because he’d read it in my mind.

So
he’d asked her out deliberately to hurt me
.
He’d chosen
to go to Homecoming with
the girl it
would
hurt me most to see him with.

Okay, scratch that. It might hurt worse to see him with Amber. But he’d probably be here with Amber, if she hadn’t been so obviously older than him.

Rage and humiliation swept through me in waves, turning me hot and cold and shaky.
I felt sick.
I wanted to go off somewhere and cry. I wanted to smash things. I wanted to be anywhere but here, watching Lance
Donovan
escorting Cheryl
Sivic
into the gym with his hand lightly touching the small of her back. But here I was, and the night was just beginning.

Tres
took
my hand again and squeezed it, whispering an apology
for stealing that kiss
, but I couldn’t even respond. I walked numbly beside him as we entered the gym.
A teacher took our tickets at the door
. The first thing I saw was a line of couples waiting to be photographed on a raised, floodlit platform with a glittery backdrop. And
standing atop the platform was
Meg, in a strapless yellow cocktail dress that made the most of what little she had in the boobs department, and
behind her,
Alvin, posed awkwardly with his hands on her waist.

This almost brought a smile to my face.
Mission accomplished.

Meg seemed to be caught up in the moment, but Alvin’s eyes were wandering—and found me. His expression sharpened into a laser-like focus. I wondered briefly what silent message he was sending me. Then I remembered.

“Rats,” I muttered. And carefully looked away, anywhere but at Alvin—to whom I
had promised the impossible.

He was here, with Megan, at Homecoming. Now I had to explain
skatching
to him.

That was
not
going to happen, obviously.
I would find a way out somehow. I had to.
But
what was wrong with me?!
I was losing my edge.
T
his was the second or third situation inside of ten minutes that I totally should have anticipated, and hadn’t.

Tres
started to drag me toward the end of the photo line. “What are you doing?” I asked, vaguely alarmed.

“Getting our picture taken.”

“We don’t need our picture taken.
Nonny
took a bunch, remember?”

Tres
shook his head. “This is different. Don’t you want a professional one?”

“No. Not really.”

“
Come on,
I’m buying. It’ll give us something to remember tonight by.”

I had the distinct impression that this was going to be a night I wouldn’t want to remember. But
while I was trying to figure out how to say that politely, Meg and Alvin stepped off the platform and Meg rushed over to grab my arms
.
We exchanged you-look-greats and introduced the boys, and then she insisted that we find a restroom. I could tell by the look
she gave me
that she had something important to say, and we had to find a safe place where she could say it.

The door to the girls’ bathroom had barely swung shut before Meg seized my elbow in a death grip and dragged me into the corner, away from the chattering mob jockeying for position in front of the mirrors. “Thank you,” she said. “I haven’t thanked you.”

“For what?”

“For making Alvin ask me to Homecoming.”

“Oh.” I laughed and shook her off. “It wasn’t hard.”

Meg’s eyes were huge and serious behind her glasses. “Maybe not, for you. But I owe you. Big time.” She took a deep breath. “And I’m going to owe you more.”

Uh-oh.

“What do you mean?”

She bit her lip. “You know how, um, when you do that thing you do…”

I nodded. She meant use the Power. I appreciated her not saying it out loud in the
crowded
girls’ room.

“… how it, like, doesn’t rea
lly last very long? Remember the Volvo
?”

“Sure, I
remember the Volvo
.”

Nonny
used to have an ancient Volvo. She loved that car, but even a Volvo doesn’t live forever.
It bit the dust a few years ago, just when
Nonny
had finished expanding the nursery—so she was experiencing, I believe the euphemism is, a ‘cash flow crisis.’ In other words, we  were poor. Temporarily, but completely. We were eating a lot of macaroni and cheese, as I recall, and skipping things like movies and new shoes.
T
he car breaking down was a major disaster.
So I fixed it. Only I had to keep re-fixing it, because although I could use the Power to make the car run, broken engine or no, the magic wore off at unpredictable intervals.
Nonny
must have wondered what the heck
was going on, but she never asked…and once our finances improved, I stopped putting the whammy on the Volvo and let it break for good.

“Well…” Meg looked like she was on  the verge of tears. “Zara, I really like Alvin. I mean I
really
like him.”

I nodded, mystified. “And?”

“I just…I just need your help. Because I couldn’t stand it if he stopped liking me. I know you don’t want to
do this
, but if you could just, you know, boost him a little bit. Eve
n just this once. J
ust for tonight. Just to make sure he doesn’t stop liking me in the middle of Homecoming. Because that would be really awful.”

I blinked at her. “I don’t get it. Why on earth would he stop liking you in the middle of Homecoming?”

“Be
cause.
You know.” She shoved her glasses higher on her nose. “Because what you did might stop working. It might wear off. Suddenly.
Like the Volvo kept doing.
”

Okay, now I got it.

I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and sighed. “Oh,
Meggie
.” I shook my head, but I was smiling. “Come here.” I took her firmly by the shoulders and steered her toward the
long
mirror
lining the wall
over the row of sinks.
I shoved her to the front of the line. Her eyes met mine in the mirror, confused. “Look at yourself.”

She obeyed, studying her reflection carefully. “What?”

“You’re adorable. What boy in his right mind is going to stop liking you tonight? Heck, Megan—several more may
start.”

She gave a snort of disbelieving laughter, but I think she was pleased.
I was totally sincere.
The red hair was a definite improvement, and looked smashing with the yellow dress. Plus the strapless top showed off her shoulders and arms, making her look unexpectedly curvy and creamy and
feminine. And she was wearing Bridget’
s makeup, which now looked fabulous on her.

“But what about the you-know-what?” she asked.

I
n the mirror, I
saw my smile turn smug. “I never did it.”

Total shock slackened Meg’s jaw. “What?” she shrieked. She spun around and punched my arm. “Get out! You
must
have.”

I grinned. “Nope. Never did. Didn’t need to.”

Meg was reduced to spluttering incoherence. A tall brunette tapped my shoulder. “Do you mind? You guys are hogging the mirror.”

“Sorry,” I said, and dragged my dazed and blithering friend back to the corner near the door.
By the time we got there Meg was hugging herself with rapture.

“Do you mean he liked me
anyway?
Without your help? That’s what you mean, isn’t it? Isn’t it?”

I nodded. “That’s about the size of it.” Then my grin faltered as I remembered. “Except that I
also
promised I’d tell him all my deep dark secrets, which, excuse me, I’m totally not going to do
.
Once he realizes that, he may not like
me
much. But you? You’re safe.”