Beastly (The Ever After Collection) (12 page)

CHAPTER NINE

“Please. Please, please,
please
.””

Emma tore her eyes away from the book she was reading and shot Collette an exasperated look over her shoulder. “For the
thousandth
time, Collette, no.”

“But, Emma!”

“Collette, I’m
trying
to read.” She buried her head back into her book, searching for the paragraph she’d been on before she’d been so rudely interrupted.

She heard Collette huff and pictured the girl throwing her hands up into the air in frustration. “Why’d you even invite me over to your house if you were just going to lie there and read?”

“That’s the thing, Collette. I
didn’t
invite you over. You invited yourself.” Emma didn’t bother to look up from her book to see her friend’s reaction.

But then the book was abruptly ripped from her hands. “Hey!”

Emma sat up from where she’d been lounging on her bed, making a grab for it, but Collette quickly sprung up from her own spot on the bed.

“What is this anyway?” the redhead demanded. “
Chief Soaring Eagle’s Desires
?” She laughed, genuine amusement bursting forth from her gut. “Oh God, this is some drivel about 'quivering thighs' and 'pulsating members', isn’t it?”

“Really, Collette?
Pulsating members?
”

Collette ignored her. “Seriously, why are you reading this?” she asked. “Are you that desperate for a distraction from Heath?”

Emma glared.

“What? You’ve been either moping or reading this crap all holiday. Frankly, I don’t know which of the two is unhealthier.”

“That’s not true,” Emma protested. “I’ve just been spending a lot of time with my dad.”

She wasn’t lying either. Not really.

Christmas was the one holiday that Miles always ensured he got off from work, and they’d performed their usual traditions as a family. They’d picked out and decorated a tree, attempted to bake sugar cookies (the cookies hadn’t turned out edible, but at least she and her father hadn’t nearly burned down the house like they had that one year – the fire department had been called and all), ate their usual Christmas dinner delivered from a deli the town over, and on Christmas morning, they’d exchanged gifts. Emma had gotten her father a new wallet (he’d been complaining for months that his was falling apart), and her dad had surprised her with a new laptop since her old one was terribly slow and had more than one key missing.

But Christmas had come and gone nearly a week ago, and today, in fact, was New Year’s Eve. Hence, Collette’s begging.

“Come on, Emma, you can’t just abandon me in enemy territory. Besides, going to Lulu’s party will be good for you.”

Emma crossed her arms over her chest. “Firstly, Lulu is hardly your enemy.”

Collette rolled her eyes. “Fine, arch nemesis then.”

Emma ignored her. “Secondly, I fail to see how going to a loud party packed full of drunken idiots will be good for me.”

Collette pursed her lips, a determined gleam suddenly present in her eyes. “Look, you want to get over Heath, don’t you?”

“There’s nothing to get over,” Emma replied, but she couldn't quite hold Collette’s gaze and wound up staring into her lap, picking at a hole in the ratty pair of sweats she was wearing.

“You won’t even tell me what you guys fought about,” Collette reminded her.

What was she supposed to tell her?
That angry, red scars covered nearly every inch of Heath’s back? That he’d completely freaked when she’d saw them? That she didn’t think he ever wanted to see her again?

“It’ll help you forget,” Collette said, interrupting her inner monologue. “Way better than these books ever will.” She tossed
Chief Soaring Eagle’s Desires
down onto the bed beside her.

Emma had to admit that when Collette put it that way, going to the party was just a little bit tempting.

“Please, Emma. Please, please,
please
.”

“Alright, fine!” Emma exclaimed in defeat. “I’ll go, just please stop torturing me with that word.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Collette said instead, her mouth instantly transforming into a beaming smile as she threw her arms around Emma’s neck. “Have I told you lately that you’re the best friend ever?” She pulled away. “Now get your cute butt in the shower. The party starts in less than two hours and this,” she waved a hand in Emma’s general direction, “isn’t exactly a flattering look. Even on you.”

Glancing down at the oversized t-shirt and holey pair of sweatpants she was currently wearing, Emma had to agree. She hadn’t exactly dressed up in order to read, after all, and any hope of Heath surprising her at her house had diminished after the first week of Christmas break had passed.

“Fine,” Emma said, standing and grabbing her bathrobe from where it lay slung over her desk chair. She shot Collette an unimpressed look when her friend began thumbing through her supposed “trashy” book before heading to the bathroom.

Twenty minutes of standing under the warm spray later, Emma had finished her shower. Grabbing one of the towels she’d laid out before hopping under the water, she quickly dried herself off before twisting her hair up atop her head. She grabbed the other towel and wiped off the condensation that had formed on the mirror. Emma frowned at the reflection that greeted her.

She didn't know why Collette always insisted she was so pretty. Objectively, Emma knew that she wasn’t ugly. But no matter how she inspected her face, she could never find any quality that screamed beauty either. She had a pale complexion that contrasted starkly with her dark hair. Indiscriminate pink lips. A small, slightly upturned nose. And huge brown eyes, the color of which, in Emma’s expert opinion, greatly resembled mud.

Emma’s brow crinkled in consternation when she spotted the shadows that had slowly started to develop under her eyes over Christmas break. They made the brown orbs seem even bigger than they were. She knew, of course, why the shadows were forming.

Heath.

She felt like her body had frozen into a constant state of distress since she’d walked in on him half-naked and saw the scars. The burst of adrenaline she’d experienced – the sense of horror at what she was seeing – had sent a shock wave straight through her. And although the shock had long since faded, the helplessness she’d experienced upon seeing the angry marks remained.

Logically, Emma knew that the scars on Heath’s body were far from new. That physically, he was no longer hurting. She knew also that the Potters were wonderful people who undoubtedly loved Heath as their own and took great care of him.

But logic didn’t always work on the heart.

Emma didn’t even care that Heath had yelled at her. She just wanted to talk to him. She longed to make sure that he was okay – as okay as he possibly could be, considering the circumstances anyway. But she couldn't quite bring herself to force her company on him when it was so obviously unwanted either. And so Emma fretted quietly, her heart feeling heavier each day that passed and she didn’t see him.

Knock. Knock.

Emma nearly jumped out of her skin at the sudden pounding on the door.

“Are you done yet?” Collette demanded from outside the bathroom. “We only have an hour until we have to leave and your hair takes forever to blow dry.”

“Yeah, just give me a minute,” Emma called back, grabbing her bathrobe and tying its sash around her waist before exiting the bathroom.

Her eyes widened in surprised when she realized that Collette had already changed and gotten ready to go to the party while she’d been in the shower. Her shapely friend was no longer wearing a casual sweater, but rather a skin-tight black dress that ended at the knee. The lace accents of the dress gave it just the right touch of sophistication and the cut showed off her toned legs and her, well…
ample
bosom very nicely.

Emma realized she was staring when Collette fidgeted nervously in a rare show of insecurity. “It’s too much, isn’t it? I’ll change. I brought other clothes-”

“No!” Emma interrupted her friend mid-sentence. “No,” she reiterated more calmly. “Collette, you look amazing. Trust me, Luca won’t be able to keep his eyes
or
hands off you.”

Red blossomed across Collette’s cheeks. “Emma,” she hissed, “you know very well that
that
is not why I’m wearing…” she trailed off, probably realizing that denying such a claim was futile when Emma crossed her arms over her chest and raised a pointed eyebrow. Collette rolled her eyes. “Whatever, just let me do your hair so we can pick something out for you.”

“Fine,” Emma agreed. “As long as we’re both willing to acknowledge the fact that the entire reason we’re going to this party is so that
you
can cause a 'pulsation' in a certain boy’s 'member'.”

“I’m going to pretend for both of our sakes that you did not just say that,” Collette denied, grabbing Emma by the sleeve of her robe and dragging her back to the bedroom where she deposited her on the desk chair and began blow drying her damp hair.

Emma sat patiently as Collette also pulled out the curling iron she’d brought along and arranged her brown locks into soft curls around her face. After the redhead proclaimed her work to be “a masterpiece”, Emma was cajoled into giving Collette permission to look through her closet and pick out an outfit for her to wear.

“You have absolutely nothing scandalous in here, do you?” Collette asked a few minutes later, staring in disgust at an oversized fleece jacket she’d just pulled out of the closet.

Emma shrugged. “Not really.”

Collette sighed. “Well, then it’s a good thing I came prepared.” She began digging through the rucksack she’d brought with to Emma’s house. “Ah ha!” She pulled out what looked like a scrap of jean fabric. “I brought this skirt along just in case I didn’t like the dress,” Collette explained, throwing said skirt at Emma.

She deftly caught it and carefully examined the piece of clothing. “Piece” was exactly right. Emma doubted that it would cover more than two or three inches of her thigh.

“No way,” Emma said, throwing the skirt back at Collette. “If I so much as bend over in that thing, I’ll give everyone a show!”

“That’s the whole point,” Collette argued, throwing it back at her. “Just make sure you wear some cute panties.”

What followed was an intense game of hot potato. In the end, Collette threatened to wrestle the skirt onto Emma herself if she didn’t oblige. Sulking, Emma finally agreed to wear it. “Fine, but I’m picking out my top.”

“Sure,” Collette allowed, a victorious smile on full display.

A few minutes later, Emma settled on a plain pink three-quarter sleeved shirt. She unbuttoned two of the clasps of its V-neck at Collette’s insistence, and after she left a brief note for her father on the kitchen table, the two girls grabbed their coats and were out the door and on their way to Lulu’s party in Collette’s silver sedan.

And then, in no time at all, they were at the party.

Much like the Davenports, the Jennings lived a few miles out of town, their house one of a number of dwellings that surrounded a small lake. While Lulu’s parents’ rambler wasn’t nearly as grand as the Davenport’s three story home, it was still large enough and far enough out of Maple Valley to house a party.

It was a little past eight and well after dark when they found a place to park. Emma sighed at the clichéd sight that greeted her when she stepped out of Collette’s car. Despite the snow on the ground, a half dozen or so people loitered on the front lawn, most of whom were holding tightly onto red plastic cups. Emma hazarded to guess that they were filled with either cheap beer or some sort of alcoholic punch. All the lights in Lulu’s house were on and the front door was wide open, out of which blasted some sort of rap music that Emma had never heard before.

Collette looked about as enthused by the sight as Emma. Unlike Emma, however, she had a determined glint in her eye. “Let’s do this.”

Without further ado, Collette all but dragged Emma towards Lulu’s house. Being as they were both sane
and
sober, they bypassed the people content to hang out in subfreezing temperatures and waltzed through the front door. They abandoned their coats in a pile of others before taking a moment to observe their surroundings.

There were definitely more people in the house than outside of it. Close to fifty people had crammed themselves into Lulu’s living room and kitchen. Emma imagined that even more people were downstairs in the live-in basement. Glancing around, she spotted Luca nearly immediately… and tried not to wince at the sight.

Luca was in the middle of the living room where some sort of spontaneous dance floor had formed. While close to two dozen people were waving their arms and shaking their booties, his mop of blond hair was visible well over the crowd. Unfortunately, he was dancing with Lulu.

Well, more accurately, Lulu was dancing
on
him, but Emma wasn’t sure if Collette would appreciate the difference. She turned to her friend, hoping to distract her before she spotted him, but Emma should have known better. Collette’s eyes had always been drawn to Luca, and tonight was no different. The redhead stared, her shoulders hunched in obvious tension.