Spellbound (25 page)

“No, I said put the raffle table over
there
,” Kristin commanded from her perch in the middle of the dance floor, and a tiny redhead—Vanessa, I recognized—dragged a large folding table across the room with a bitter look on her face. I was reminded of one thing, at least, that set this dance apart from those at other schools. The raffle prize was season tickets to the Yankees. At Keansburg, the biggest raffle ever was for an iPod Shuffle.

“I've changed my mind, put it back where it was,” Kristin decreed, picking some imaginary lint off her low-cut red dress before turning her back to the girl and us. Poor Vanessa's updo looked like it was falling apart, and I wondered how many times Kristin had forced her to drag this table back and forth.

If Brendan noticed any of that, he didn't let on. He didn't break his stride, keeping a tight hold on my hand as he marched right past Kristin to the deejay's station in the far left corner to set up his equipment. I just stood there awkwardly, counting
down the seconds until Kristin and her legion of lemmings noticed that we had arrived. She left the room shortly after we arrived—to fix her makeup for the billionth time that day, I assumed.

“Emma, do you want me to take that?” I was so preoccupied that I hadn't realized Brendan was standing directly behind me, talking to me.

“I'm sorry, what?” I asked, holding my clutch to my chest.

“Your wrap,” he explained, placing his hands on my shoulders and hooking his fingers inside the velvet collar. “I can put it on a shelf down there.” Brendan gestured to an empty shelf where he'd already stowed his peacoat under the desk the dance committee had fixed up to look like a deejay booth.

“Oh, yeah, thanks,” I mumbled as Brendan slid the soft fabric off my shoulders. I suddenly felt very naked, and looked up. And there it was: Kristin was back—and her lips, freshly painted with a baby-pink gloss, were twisted in a self-satisfied grin as she stared at me. I wanted to look away, but I was kind of amazed. I'd never seen someone look so smug and venomous at the same time before. It was like she'd invented a whole new facial expression to convey just how much she wanted to run me over with a car.
Maybe she was driving that taxi?

She looked me up and down, then turned to Amanda and whispered something in her ear. They both laughed, staring right at me.
Yeah right, like that wasn't about me.

I smoothed my skirt self-consciously. “Are you sure I look okay?” I asked Brendan. He barely looked at me before darting his green eyes over to Kristin, who had just linked arms with a blond, goateed guy I didn't recognize. Then he sighed unhappily.

“Emma, don't even compare yourself to them. It's like com
paring a diamond to…I don't know…a booger,” he said, and I burst out laughing.

“Thanks,” I said, feeling some of that you-don't-belong-here uneasiness shed as he kissed my cheek.

“Sorry, I'm going to be distracted for a minute,” Brendan apologized, putting on his headphones and fiddling with his laptop. I sat in one of the folding chairs nearest the makeshift deejay booth, pretending to be engrossed in something on my cell phone when the gym was filled with a loud dance track. I looked up and Brendan was adjusting the levels on his equipment, scrutinizing something on his computer screen. After what seemed like an hour—but was really only about three minutes—Brendan put down the headphones, sitting next to me.

“Do you want to dance?”

I eyed the still-sparse crowd in the gym. “Not just yet, thanks.”

Brendan nodded his head toward the deejay booth. “Any requests?”

I glanced over at Kristin, who was engrossed in something her blond was saying. “Got any Slayer?” I asked hopefully, and Brendan chuckled.

Within twenty minutes, the gym was packed. I didn't know how many people came with friends or dates or even solo, but Brendan had been right—this was a platform for my classmates to show off. I doubted anyone's glittering earrings or bracelets were rhinestones. But then I'd look down at my own sparkling sapphire ring and smile. The more I looked, the more I started to wonder if the sapphire was bringing out my witch skills.

I decided to test it out, staring at one of the tealights, and willing it to blow out. The flame flickered for a moment before extinguishing. I gasped, then I noticed the brunette standing next to it who had sneezed and blown it out, making
a face when she smelled the smoke.
Oops. Guess Angelique really was the key when we made the wind blow in her room.

I looked around the dance floor, trying to move things and inevitably, I would lock eyes with Kristin for longer than was comfortable. It felt like she was keeping tabs on me.

When the coast was clear—meaning, Kristin had left the gym to apply another coat of her face spackle—I offered to get us some drinks, sticking to the edge of the packed dance floor so I wouldn't spill the nonalcoholic champagnelike cocktails in my hands. On the way back, I stopped to watch Brendan in action. It was an oddly proud moment for me—he was
good.
He switched between MP3s and vinyl effortlessly, his talented hands almost a blur as he ensured that the music never stopped. When I returned to his side, Brendan leaned in and gave me a kiss on the cheek, taking the drink gratefully and downing it in one shot.

“Thanks, it's getting hot back here,” he said, shrugging out of his jacket. For the next few songs, he deejayed with one hand, keeping his other on the small of my back. I didn't know what it was like to be prom queen, but I couldn't imagine that it felt better than this. I sighed, happily leaning into Brendan who clicked something on his laptop before turning to encircle me in his arms.

“See, now this isn't so bad, is it?” he teased, giving me a squeeze and I smiled, relaxing into his chest happily.

I should have known my happiness would be short-lived.

“Excuse me, Brendan, you should really be focusing on your duties and not letting yourself get distracted,” came the catty comment from the other side of the desk.

I stiffened, feeling every nerve tense up. I didn't even have to look to know who had just interrupted our moment. “Um,
hello?
I'm talking here.” Kristin's voice got more demanding. “All I'm saying, Brendan, is that you're here to
provide the music and you're ignoring your job.” I turned just in time to see Kristin narrowing her pearlized shadow-covered eyes at me. “Don't forget, you're here as the help.”

“I don't hear anyone complaining,” Brendan answered, regarding her with a barely perceptible tilt of his head. He didn't even seem to notice her little dig about him being “the help.”

“Well,
I'm
complaining.” Kristin folded her arms underneath her chest—which had been stuffed and arranged like it was a proud product of the Build-a-Bear Workshop. I noticed she lifted her arms to pump up her shimmer-lotioned cleavage a little more.
Does this girl ever give it a rest?

“So? Who the hell are you to me? Big deal,” Brendan scoffed, keeping his left arm around me as he broke our embrace to put his headphones to his right ear while he changed to a vinyl track.

“The big deal, since you ask, is that I'm in charge of this dance,” Kristin sneered, grabbing his wrist with acrylic nails and yanking his arm down. “And I. Am. Complaining!”

My fists clenched.
How dare she touch him!

As if Brendan could reach my thoughts, he gave me a calming squeeze.

“You're lucky you're a lady,” Brendan retorted coolly, pulling his wrist free. “Although it's a loose use of the word ‘lady,' I'll admit.”

Kristin flinched, a flicker of anger crossing her face. Then she turned her cold gaze to me.

“You.” She sniffed, flicking her index finger my way.

“Excuse me?” I asked, incredulous.

“Oh, there's no excuse for you,” Kristin jeered, her bow lips turned up in a perfectly pink sneer. “But I want you to come move a box for me.”

“I'm not on your little committee.” I tried to keep the anger out of my voice.

“Yeah, that's right. You don't do anything for the school except bring its value down.” Kristin grinned, baring her teeth.

“Kristin, I swear, if you don't get the hell out of here…” Brendan slammed his hand on the desk and caused the music to skip, the warning tone in his voice bordering on rage.

“Save your stupid insults, Kristin,” I said, getting impatient. “What do you want?”

“Just grunt work. I figured you could handle that,” she said, regarding me with distaste. “We need another box of raffle tickets brought up from the basement. It's dirty and none of
my
friends should touch something that gross.”

“You've wasted our time enough, Kristin,” Brendan cut in, stepping between us. “As you pointed out, I have a job to do here. So get one of your little idiots to move whatever it is that you want moved and leave my girlfriend alone.”

Kristin scowled when Brendan called me his girlfriend.

“Have it your way,” she purred, her voice saturated with saccharine evil. “So on Monday, I'll just go to Principal Casey and tell her that all you did was play some crappy playlist while you made out with—” she pointed at me “—
that
all night. And I'll talk about how upset I am about the terrible way you threatened me and my date when I told you to shape up.”

She batted her eyelashes angelically. “I mean, I only wanted what was best for the dance and the school.”

“Go ahead,” Brendan scoffed. But I stiffened. He was already on probation—one more straw and he was out. The last thing in the world I needed was for him to get into more trouble. His mother already probably hated me.

“Fine, where is this stupid box?” I sighed, resigned.

“Emma, no. You don't answer to her.” Brendan glared at Kristin angrily.

“I'll give you two losers a minute to figure it out. Brendan, I have a feeling you'll need to talk extra…slowly…to…her,” she drawled dramatically before sashaying away to join her blond date.

“Brendan, you're on probation.” I turned my back to the dance floor and kept my voice low, even though I knew no one could hear me over the bass. “You don't need any more issues with Principal Casey.”

“If you give in to Kristin now, that's it,” he pointed out angrily. “She'll know she can blackmail us, extort us, whatever, to get what she wants.”

“Brendan, it's just moving a box,” I promised. “It's fine.”

“It's not fine, Emma,” Brendan argued. “I'll go move it before I let you deal with this.”

“Look, she just wants to be bossy and feel superior,” I reasoned. “
We
know she's pathetic. Besides, I'm not going to let you get into trouble, again, for me.”

“I'll be fine.”

“Okay, then how about this? How horrible will things be for me if you get kicked out, huh?” I folded my arms and stared up with him with my best “so there” face.

Brendan began protesting but I ignored him, and turned around to see Kristin striding back across the dance floor. From the smug look on her orange face, you could tell she knew she had won.

“So where the hell is this stupid box?” I asked, my voice dripping with contempt.

Her grimace turned into a smile. “It's in the basement by the lockers. I'll show you the way. Just go get it and bring it up to the raffle table.”

I grabbed my clutch from the shelf underneath the desk,
figuring I'd call Ashley and see where she was while I was away from the music.

Brendan slid his hand around the side of my neck. “Emma, you don't have to take care of me.”

“Let me do this for you?” I asked, stretching up to kiss him.

“I don't have all night,” Kristin yelled, tapping her crystal-encrusted sandal impatiently.

“I know where the basement is,” I said scornfully as I fell into step next to Kristin. “You don't have to walk me there.”

“Oh, this is my absolute pleasure,” she gloated, strutting through the dance floor. I pretended to be oblivious to the confused stares from my classmates who caught us walking together. It would have been less probable to see the Loch Ness Monster do a conga line through the dance floor than it would have been to ever see the two of us peacefully together.

We walked right past Jenn, whose jaw dropped, mouthing “What the eff?” to me when she saw me with my mortal enemy. I just shrugged, figuring I could give her all the gory details on Monday. Then at least I could find out why she was holding Austin's hand.

We passed the raffle table—where a full box of tickets sat at Kendall's feet. When she saw us walking by, Kendall stood up, a disgusted look on her pretty face.

“Kristin, I don't think—” she shouted over the music, but Kristin told her just exactly what she could go do with her thoughts.

So this is just a power play like I thought. Kendall doesn't need the tickets. She doesn't need the box moved. Kristin just wants to let me know who is in charge.

Kristin strutted down the hallway to the basement door.

“After you,” she sneered, twisting the doorknob and kicking it open with her strappy sandal.

“So this box is right by the lockers?” I asked.

“I said that already. All the unwanted and unnecessary stuff goes in the basement.” I let her dig about my locker location roll off my back and I stepped into the chilly stairwell.

“What, do they turn the heat off after school?” I wondered aloud, wrapping my arms around me as I quickly ran down the stairs, hearing the bass echo in the concrete stairwell. My breath was coming out in smoke. I just wanted this over with.

As soon as I was on the bottom step, I turned to the right to face the row of lockers—and that's it. No boxes. I turned around and looked up the stairs to see Kristin peeking out from the top of the stairs, laughing.