The Cinderella Society (18 page)

“We need you to do a little digging,” SJ said. “On the down low.”

That piqued my interest. “What kind of digging?”

“We need to find out what’s up between Lexy and Heather.”

“Why?”

“Heather’s one of the people we’ve identified as being a key target of the Wickeds,” Paige said. “We haven’t been able to crack the others, so we need you to try to get through to Heather.”

Cracking people? What were we, the Mafia? “Did you put them under a lightbulb and toothpick their eyelids open?”

Paige did not look amused.

“This is serious, Jess. The Wickeds doubling their bid class
and
stepping up pressure on the Reggies? Something’s up, and we need to know what.
You
need to know what, so you can figure out how to stop it.”

I didn’t like where this was going. “What exactly does this mission entail?”

“It’s not impossible, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m not going to self-destruct in three seconds.” That was as much of a joke as Paige would allow. Times were grim. “We need someone to get Heather to open up. Find out what Lexy’s targeting is about. Anything to give us something to go on.”

I squirmed on the bleachers, and not just because the perspiration on my legs was suctioning them to the superheated metal. I didn’t mind going out of my way to help Heather, but constantly getting in Lexy’s business to do it? Did I
look
insane?

“Let’s face facts here,” I said in my most reasonable voice. I ticked off the strikes against me on my fingers. “One, I’ve already tried talking to Heather, and she was about as helpful as a mute guppy. Two, if Lexy finds out I’m trying to help the Reggie she’s targeting, she’ll end me before I can even take over as leader.” I couldn’t even fathom how low she’d stoop beyond what she’d already done. Especially after she found out I was going to be the new leader of the Cindys to boot. “Three, I’m the new kid here. Why do you think I can help Heather if you haven’t been able to help the others? You guys wield the kind of social power that would make Madonna jealous. I’m a nobody.”

“No Wicked chatter.”

Thanks, Sarah Jane. Not helpful
.

“First, Heather needs to be guided, not chatted with,” Paige said. “You need to show her she can trust you. Second, Lexy won’t
end
you. That’s your drama talking. And the Cindys have your back if you step on her toes.”

Step on her toes?
Thanks for the understatement, Paige
.

“Third, being the new kid is exactly why you have a connection with her. Heather’s always been guarded, but she reached out to you. That has power.”

I thought about how Heather had stopped to help me pick up the Lexy mess just a few hundred feet from where we sat. Something I realized the Cindys must have witnessed too. But if Heather had really been reaching out that day, why had she pushed me away when I’d gone to bat for her against Lexy? I’d offered her backup when no one else had, but she’d chosen to go it alone.

“Promise you’ll think about it, okay?” SJ asked. “I know we’re asking a lot with everything you’ve been through since you moved here, but you don’t have to throw it in Lexy’s face. Just, you know, be sly about it. See what you can find out.”

Love potion, protection incense, one more favor for the Wickeds
. The pieces of the puzzle were already forming, but my intuition was still on alert. “No promises, but I’ll think about it.”

“I knew we could count on you, J.”

Trouble was, I didn’t know if I could count on myself not to chicken out. “Is this part of my leader training?”

“Not officially, no. But it goes along with everything you’ll be up against come fall, so think of it as a chance for you to show your stuff.”

Fabulous
. The candle was barely cold and they were already asking me to prove my worth.

We watched the guy in charge have more heated words with Grandma Aniston before saying what were, we guessed, some pretty choice ones and leading his crew off campus. They’d already moved the sedans so people could leave, and everyone had pretty much disbanded. Except for Lexy, who was hanging around under the overhang of the concession stand on the outskirts of the sports complex. By herself.

The muscle near my eye twitched.

Lexy Steele is always surrounded.
Always
. If she’s out and about, her cronies are there to support her, cater to her every whim, and make sure she looks powerful. The fact that she was alone was suspicious. The fact that she looked excited while alone made me worried.

“Jess? You still with us?”

I snapped back to the conversation. “What?”

“Let’s head out. Do you want to get wraps at The Grind or pizza at Cuomo’s?”

“You know, I think I’m gonna hang out for a while and practice more.” Good thing I wasn’t standing, or my legs would’ve given out in protest. Even though they knew it was a lie.

SJ looked out past me and saw the same thing I did. “Don’t even think about confronting her. Discreet, remember?”

“Do I strike you as unstable? Of course I’m not gonna confront her. I just want to see what’s up.”

Paige didn’t look thrilled. “Focus on Heather. If Lexy knows you’re getting close, she may change tactics.”

“Then I’ll make sure she doesn’t know.” When they didn’t look convinced, I pulled out the big guns. “You gave me the mission. Trust me to do it right.”

The tap of Paige’s fingernail on the bleacher sent tinny echoes around our feet. “Sounds like you’re done thinking it over.”

“Sounds like.”

*   *   *

Lexy stayed off to the side while the sedans filed out of the parking lot, then made a quick call on her cell that involved lots of animated gestures. She shoved it back in her purse, did a quick perusal of the area where the workers had started to dig, and headed back to her Lexus for destinations unknown.

I considered the clues and had to admit they intrigued me. Despite my hesitation to play amateur sleuth that first night at The Grind, I was a sucker for puzzles. And if helping Heather meant bringing Lexy and the Wickeds down in the process, I was all over that. As long as it was Lexy who went down and not me.

But before I got sucked into the mystery, I had a mission of a different kind competing for my attention. One that would take everything I had to complete successfully with minimal damage to my well-being.

I had a date to get ready for.

Chapter 12

“THE JAMBALAYA CHICKEN
is really good here,” Ryan told me as we slid into the booth for dinner. “I get it every time we come.”

“Yum,” I said, even though I was thinking the heartburn and gas special wasn’t my first choice for date food. I picked up my menu. “I love their chicken Caesar salad.”

“That’s what Lexy always gets,” he said. Our eyes met for a split second over the tops of our menus, and we both looked away. Dating your enemy’s brother was a messy business.

A too-chipper waitress girl came to take our orders, fawning a bit too much over Ryan for my taste. I slowly turned my charm bracelet around my wrist to calm my nerves. I’d stressed out in a major way deciding what to wear, but a quick call to SJ had reeled me back in. I wasn’t Fake Blondie’s caliber, but my fun-feminine-sporty look had been holding Ryan’s attention so far. I could do this.

She took away our menus, and the moment arrived. With no entrée options to impede our views, there was nothing to shield us from looking at each other. To keep us from engaging in more than idle chitchat. The time had come to act like two people on a real date.

Why don’t they make coloring menus for kids our age?

The silence stretched on for hours—okay, more like a few seconds, but it seemed like three lifetimes—before Ryan broke the ice. “Sorry about the Lexy comment.”

Not my first choice of topic. “She’s your sister,” I said, folding my napkin neatly onto my lap.

“Yeah, but she’s been tough on you.”

True, but I wasn’t letting her rain on my date. “What’s your plan for the summer?”

“I work at the car wash and the Tri-Eight. So mostly that and working out before football starts.”

“You work at the movie theater? Do you really get to see all the movies for free?”

“Mostly.” He grabbed some sugar packets and started building a mini house of sugar with them. “I didn’t see the Sandler flick, since I knew we were going.”

How sweet was that? “I’ve only seen one movie since we moved here.”

Ryan smiled. “Orlando Bloom.”

Typical
. “You know, just because most girls are in love with him doesn’t mean that’s the one movie I would’ve seen.”

“You came with your mom and got there after the previews started. You were wearing a red shirt that said
EAT-SLEEP-CHEER
.”

Oh.

No.
Way
.

“She doesn’t like to sit through the previews.” My face felt like fire. “I didn’t see you that day. How did you see me?”

“I always notice cute new girls. But back to Orlando. What were you saying about the movie you saw?” He laughed at my deepening blush. “That’s okay. As long as
you know we can’t all be Orlando Bloom.”

He thought my embarrassment was about being caught as a bona fide Orly groupie. I couldn’t have cared less about that. I was just trying to hold it together after the bomb he’d dropped. Ryan Steele had noticed me all the way back then.

And he’d remembered.

“Why didn’t you …?” I stopped, embarrassed that my brain-to-mouth filter didn’t seem to be working. Did I really want to ask the question swirling in my mind?

“Why didn’t I what?”

I folded my napkin, gliding my finger along the crease to give my nervous hands something to do. “I don’t know. Talk to me back then or something.”

Ryan looked surprised. “I did. You got bumped in the hallway one day, and I tried to help you pick up your books.”

And by
got bumped
he meant got tripped by his sister’s BFF while Lexy looked on and beamed.

Lovely of you to remember that shining moment
.

“I tried to introduce myself,” he said, “but you couldn’t get away from me fast enough. I figured I’d blown it somehow.”

I thought back to the day I’d much rather have erased from my memory banks. The cheer-team list had just been posted, and Lexy had already gathered her friends for the Jess hunt. I hadn’t known much about Ryan then—I’d only been at MSH a few weeks—so I’d assumed he’d been in on the torturefest, being Lexy’s brother and all. I’d gotten away from him as fast as I could. It wasn’t until later that I realized Lexy was the Steele family devil, and Ryan was prime crush material.

Fate has such ironic timing.

“Anyway,” he said, letting me off the hook. Just like a
Charming. “I’m a total movie buff. Sandler might not be Orlando Bloom, but I think the movie will be a blast.”

I latched on to the change of topic, despite the Orly teasing, and we were off and running just like when we’d talked music at Kyra’s. Ryan continued his construction of the sugar building—a castle, we decided—and I passed him sugar packets while we talked. White ones for the first floor, pink ones for the second floor.

By the time our food arrived, we’d already contemplated girls’ obsession with romantic comedies, guys’ fascination with shoot-’em-up, crash-’em-up movies, and why musicals were so popular. We couldn’t think of anyone who would burst into song in the middle of the caf. Not even the drama club.

Ryan snatched a handful of packets from the empty table next to us when we ran out. Our castle was now a monstrosity with a blue-packet tower I was afraid to breathe near for fear of it taking a nosedive into our spinach artichoke dip. His hands were amazingly steady. I couldn’t imagine my hands ever being that steady, much less on a first date. The guy had some seriously talented hands.

I wouldn’t let myself think about how talented. Or how experienced.

I cut my salad into small pieces with a knife, a little trick Nan had taught me so I could avoid making a spectacle of myself. The chicken salad was awesome, and Ryan raved about his jambalaya. We managed to debate chicken versus turkey, whether buttermilk ranch was better than regular ranch, and even whether spinach artichoke dip was better hot or cold.

“You’re so easy to talk to,” Ryan said as he pushed his
plate aside. “I can’t remember ever having this much fun talking on a date.”

I couldn’t remember ever
having
a date. At least not a real one in public. I swallowed another bite of chicken and lettuce. “What do you usually have fun doing on dates?”

I wasn’t trying to be coy (if that means what I think it means). It was actually an innocent question. Being the dateless wonder, I had no clue what people usually did during dates where dinner was involved. Was the conversation usually stilted? Did girls blather on about pedicures or gossip or other froufrou stuff? These were the questions on my mind.

But that’s just where
my
mind was.

Ryan, being the experienced dater I knew him to be, leaned back against the faux leather seat and studied me. His eyebrows raised a millimeter. “Looking for details?”

All the blood drained from my face, then rushed back with the heat of a dozen jambalaya dinners.
Do-over!
“I wasn’t asking … I mean, I know you’ve …” I hung my head. “Can we talk about movies again?”

Ryan laughed and reached out, careful not to knock over the castle, and put his hand on mine. “I’m kidding, Jess.”

I knew he was, but it didn’t make it any easier. Neither did having his nice cozy hand covering my clammy one. With one innocent slipup, I’d managed to derail my carefully formulated plan to convince Ryan I was a completely normal, dating-is-no-big-deal kind of girl.

Ryan polished off the last of his soda and patted his stomach. “You’re gonna have to roll me out of here.”

Ryan drawing attention to his rock-hard abs was not helping my cause. I was so out of my league. I mean, what
did
usually happen on his dates? We talked like old friends,
so it felt more like hanging with a buddy. A really hot, drool-worthy buddy you’d rather make out with than talk to. Except I had the distinct impression the make-out part was sadly a one-sided fantasy.