“I get that,” Lance says thoughtfully. “This will work. Don’t worry.”
I release a breath, hoping he’s right.
The driveway’s lined with a caravan of box trucks and vans. An army of people unloads flowers and table linen and who knows what else.
“This is seriously insane,” I observe, almost running into someone lugging a stack of milk crates containing china. “All for a dumb dance. Have you ever been to one?”
“Nope,” Lance says. “This is my first year, like you.” He nudges my shoulder with his arm. “Maybe he won’t show, and we can actually have a good time? You deserve that—you know, to have fun.”
“Maybe,” I say, but I don’t want to live one more day waiting for him to try to mess with my life or hurt my friends. This needs to end … tonight.
We reach the administration building. It’s buzzing with security and people directing staff by pointing to locations on a map of the Court.
“That would be really useful to have tonight,” I whisper to Lance.
He eyes the layout of the Court a designer is holding, the full maze drawn in detail with its gardens and whatever else they have planned within its hedged walls.
“I’ll see what I can do,” he responds. “You go talk to Joey first. Let me do what I do best.”
“What is that exactly?” I ask curiously.
Lance laughs. “Be unassuming.” He winks. “People tend to underestimate me, Lana.”
I widen my eyes in recognition of that statement because … he’s right. Lance is the laid-back, easygoing guy who likes video games and his recreational—sometimes illegal—activities. He performs his stereotypical role perfectly. But there’s more to everyone than can be seen on the surface. We only unveil the truth when we come to accept who’s beneath the mask. Everyone wants to be seen for who they are.
I walk into the room off the foyer. Joey immediately stands from the chaise where he’s been watching the staff come and go.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, my thoughts going straight to Allie.
“Uh, yeah. Everything’s fine.” His usually disheveled, wavy hair is even more of a mess. His eyes are bloodshot like he hasn’t slept. “I wanted to let you know I won’t be at the Ball tonight. I was planning to go with Arden, so I could help with the whole Vic thing, but Lincoln’s going instead.”
“Lincoln? Does he know what’s going on?” I ask, my mind unable to keep up with the onslaught of plot twists.
“He was there the night at The Point. He’s known about Allie and has seen her a few times with me over the summer. I didn’t tell him everything, but he knows enough. Let him help. He wants to make things right.”
I nod, recollecting how fired up he was in the car that night after Vic and I returned from the convenience store. “Why is he in Kingston anyway?”
“He’s attending Printz-Lee this year on a scholarship,” Joey explains.
Now that he’s said it, I kinda-sorta remember Lincoln telling me about receiving a scholarship during one of our French classes together. I wasn’t paying attention to the details, but I remember thinking that if anyone deserved a free pass out of hell, Lincoln did.
“Where will you be tonight?”
“Sherling,” Joey answers, twisting his hands anxiously. “Mrs. Pixley said Allie can receive visitors, and I want to be there.”
I watch him fidget for a second. I ask, “Are you nervous?”
“Uh, yeah. A little,” Joey says, rubbing his neck. “I know it’s weird because I’ve never really met her. She doesn’t even know my name. But after talking to her friends and relatives over the last couple months, I feel like I know her. And, well, I want to see her.”
“You care about her,” I conclude warmly. He nods, pressing his lips together. “She’s going to be so happy to see you even if she doesn’t remember you. She’ll know you. You’ve been by her bedside so much, she has to.”
“So you don’t think it’s weird that I’m doing this? Considering I basically lied to her family about who I am? She could totally call me out on it, and they could end up hating me.”
I step to him. “Never.” I open my arms, and he lets me hug him. “You’re a good guy, Joey. And she deserves for you to be there with her.” I look up at him. “Will you let me know how she is? Maybe … I can come visit when it’s not too overwhelming.”
“Definitely,” he says, pressing a kiss to the side of my head. When he steps back, he examines me curiously. “I don’t … feel it anymore. That electric thing between us,” he says it like he’s not sure if it’s a good thing.
“I know. Me either,” I assure him with a comforting smile. “It’s because we’re not supposed to be together. It was … chemistry—literally.” He laughs. “But how much you care about Allie, that’s real. So go see our girl. Send me a picture if she’ll let you?”
He nods, his eyes shining.
“I’ll get your brother,” I tell him, turning to leave.
“Lana.”
I pause at the door.
“Be careful tonight. I don’t want anything to happen to you because … I do love you, just in a different sort of way.”
“Like a sister?” I tease.
He makes a disturbed face. “Not quite like that. But … as a friend. A really good friend.”
“Same.” I smile.
“I got it,” Lance murmurs in my ear as I pass him, leaving the room. He pulls out the edge of a folded map with a wink.
Lesson learned. Never underestimate Lance.
Lance leaves me at the front steps of the girls’ dorm. Before I enter, I hear a very familiar voice nearing the corner of the building. But Dr. Kendall doesn’t sound anything like her false jubilant self.
“I hear your concerns, Mr. Harrison. But I cannot deny access to a high-profile guest because you’re worried he might do something that you cannot substantiate. Our security team has carefully vetted each guest. You’ll just have to trust—”
Dr. Kendall comes into view and notices me on the steps. “I’m sorry you feel that way. I will take it under advisement.” She ends the call and approaches me.
I don’t even pretend that I didn’t overhear the conversation.
“Ms. Peri, just the person I was looking for. Apparently, there’s a guest attending tonight with whom you may have shared an unsettling history. Is there anything you’d like me to know concerning Victor Thorne?”
I hesitate. If I tell her, what are the odds she’ll believe me? She just blew Niall off without much consideration. It’s evident Vic’s powerful family is important to her. More important than me. Besides, if they do keep him out, it only means we won’t know when he’ll appear again. This may be our only chance of having the upper hand—as slight as that is.
“No,” I answer plainly. “Nothing you need to worry about.”
“Wonderful,” Dr. Kendall responds, looking pleased. “It’s going to be an exciting night.”
Oh, she has no idea.
The afternoon passes in a whirlwind of blow-dryers, false lashes and nail polish. Dressing for the Met Gala of private schools is much more intensive than I ever could’ve imagined. And the girls’ excitement is contagious.
By the time we’re done with the hair and makeup transformation, I honestly can’t help but be won over. Maybe I dismissed the idea of this Ball too quickly. Probably because I didn’t understand its significance. I’ve never been to a dance before. School functions were never my thing in Sherling. School was barely my thing. And although Nina, Tori and I appreciated dressing up and becoming someone else behind our makeup and fake IDs, this is completely different.
Music blasts through the halls, a different song in every room, while stylists and their teams bustle around, catering to the groups of girls singing and laughing. Ashton invited Sophia to join us, but apparently, she has her own team downstairs. I wonder who her other friends are now that everyone’s returned. I hope they’re with her. I hate the idea of her prepping for tonight alo
ne.
Arden delivers us drinks, using people from her squad of beauty professionals, who are themselves an explosion of colorful personalities. And they share the funniest stories. I get scolded several times by Braxton for laughing while she’s applying my lash extensions.
“Are you going to tell Grant you’ve been drinking?” Ashton asks after I take a sip of the raspberry-flavored concoction in my hand.
“I told Arden to make mine without alcohol. She put some sort of calming elixir in it instead,” I explain. “I want to be alert anyway.”
“True,” Ashton agrees, finishing her drink. “This is my last one. Just enough to make me bubbly.”
“You are most certainly that, darlin’,” Yvette tells her, admiring the glitter dusted in Ashton’s teased hair. “Lana, honey, you are all set for your wardrobe fitting. Ashton will meet you in your room in a minute.”
I peek in the open doors as I pass, in awe of the girls in different stages of primping. The designs are so intricate and abstract; it’s hard to believe they’re all inspired by fairytales. Or maybe that’s what makes them so fascinating … the interpretations of stories I’ve grown up reading and others I can’t quite decipher, held in place by pins and glitter.
I open my door to find a package on my bed. Inside is a gold metal bracelet. I spin it around in my fingers, not sure what to make of it. I place it on the counter for now and pull my costume out of the closet, unzipping the garment bag where it was stored after someone from Yvette’s team pressed it.
Just as I’m sliding on my boots, a knock comes from the bathroom.
“Lana?”
“Come in,” I call, checking myself in the mirror one last time.
I literally lose my breath when Arden walks into my room. “Omigod, you are amazing,” I gasp. “I have no idea who you are, but holy shit!”
Arden struts in and twirls, a short metallic cape floating around her. She is glimmering silver from head to toe. Her legs are wrapped in sparkling lace-pattern bell-bottoms, and her top is covered with a corset. Every inch of her exposed skin is painted a shiny silver, and her hair is hidden behind some sort of crown that scrolls around her head.
“I’m the Looking-Glass,” she announces, and it suddenly all makes sense.
“That is the most incredible costume I’ve ever seen.”
“Thank you,” she says with a sweeping bow down to her metallic-silver platform boots. “And you, my dear huntress, look deadly.”
“They did a great job, huh?” I hardly recognize myself in the mirror.
The subtle contours make my cheeks look severe. And my dark eyes blend with the glittering hues smudged around them, accented with bold, dramatic lines. Deep red is drawn to accentuate lips that aren’t quite all mine. It’s the hair that makes the look. The warrior braids are woven tight on the sides. Leaves and branches are tucked into the voluminous curls that reach the bottom of my back.
The dark green huntress costume cuts dangerously low and hugs me tight—from the capped sleeves to the pants. It takes on more of a sinister look combined with the hair and makeup. The thick belt around my hips has a fake dagger in a holster and several pouches for storage. The only thing I protested—but didn’t win—are the knee-high brown leather boots with flat soles, shrinking me to about Arden’s bustline in her gargantuan heels.
“Told you I should be in something with more of a heel,” I say when she stands beside me in the mirror. Our height difference is staggering. “Grant’s going to look like a giant next to me.”
“We had to go with something more practical for the plan,” she reminds me. I stare longingly at the black lace-up platform boots I was meant to wear. “Now let me set you up with your camera.”
“Where’s yours?” I ask.
She points to a button in the middle of her chest. I squint, having a hard time seeing it.
“These are amazing,” Arden says, attaching something to the back of my pants and weaving a wire through to my front to subtly poke out through my buttonhole. She tapes and secures everything into place. “There you go. Brendan will test all of them on his phone when we get there to let us know if we need to angle them differently.”
“Thank you,” I say, trying to locate it in the mirror but barely making it out. “I got this bracelet. Do you know anything about it?”
“Oh, yeah,” she says, picking it up. “They came by while you were getting ready. We don’t have to carry around our phones tonight. Instead, we’re all given bracelets to indicate where we are. It’s how Brendan’s going to know when the monster arrives.”
“Guests are given one too?” I confirm.
“Theirs are silver. That way, security can be certain whoever is supposed to leave does.”
“I guess I don’t give Blackwood’s security enough credit,” I say, recognizing that this is pretty brilliant. “I wish we could wear these all the time instead of carrying around the stupid phones.”
“They may switch to these,” she says. “But we’d never be able to take them off. This is only the second time we’ve used them. I think they’re still testing them out.” She snaps it around my wrist. “Ready to go live?”
I shrug, not understanding until she presses the clasp and a small beep goes off.
“You’re officially on the grid. Brendan’s supposed to be able to locate us by our bracelets as well.”
“So their security isn’t that secure.”
“Or he’s just that good.”
“I prefer scary.”
Arden laughs. “There’s a fine line between monsters and heroes. You know that, don’t you? A choice here. Restraint there. Who’s to say when the line is crossed between vengeance and justice?”
“What was in your tea?” I ask, teasing but feeling a chill go down my spine.
“Let me in!” Ashton demands from the other side of my door.
When I open it, my mouth gapes wide. “I don’t think you’re going to fit through my door.”
“It’s only fabric,” Ashton dismisses me, her shimmery white ballgown folding in around her as she enters like a queen. Her black hair is teased and woven with silver strands and coated with glitter. A string of sparkling baubles hangs around her neck.
“I’ve never seen sleeves quite so … puffy,” I tease.
“You have no idea who I am, do you?” she says, reading my puzzled expression.
I scrunch my nose in apology.
“She’s Sarah from the Labyrinth,” Arden declares, clapping. “I love that movie. You look stunning, Ashton.”
When I still look confused, Arden shakes her head in disappointment. “Oh, we are definitely having a movie night when this is over. It’s only one of the most incredible movies ever.”
Ashton adds as if to explain, “It’s an ’80s movie.”
“Oh!” I say, the big hair and voluminous balloon sleeves suddenly making sense. Regardless, she looks absolutely breathtaking.
“Now let’s figure out how to position this.” Arden inspects Ashton’s bustline, the camera in her hand.
A light tap on the open door spins me around. Lily and Kaely stand at the entrance.
“Omigod!” Kaely squeals when she sees us. “You’re the Looking-Glass from Alice in Wonderland. You’re Sarah from the Labyrinth. And you’re the hunter from Snow White. I am so in love with all of your outfits.” We stare at her, in awe that she got it immediately, at just a glance. “Does that mean Grant is going as Snow White?”
“Uh, I don’t actually know what he’s dressing as,” I admit, still stunned. “You look so … cute.” Why can’t I figure out who anyone is? I grew up on fairytales.
Kaely’s wearing a gauzy white dress, her hair slicked back in a severe low bun with strands of small pearls meeting at the center of her forehead, attached to a gold emblem. Her eyes are haloed in red.
“Lana,” Ashton scolds. “You really need to watch more iconic movies.”
Kaely giggles in amusement. “I’m the Empress from The Neverending Story
.”
I bare my teeth and shake my head in apology. “Never seen it.”
They all sigh like they feel sorry for me.
Then there’s Lily. And I do know who she is, but I don’t even know what to say. She’s glowing, as always, but a little more literally, wearing a blue ballgown with lights woven into the fabric. And atop her blond head is a tall, shimmering crystal crown. There’s a sheer opalescent fabric attached to the crown that mimics a bubble surrounding her. As a twist, she’s wearing the glimmering ruby slippers. But then again, maybe the Good Witch is deceptive in Lily’s version of the story. Maybe she was willing to kill for what she thought belonged to her.
“Glinda!” Ashton exclaims. “That came out so amazing. Come in. Arden will get … you a drink,” she corrects quickly when I flash her a panicked look.
Kaely doesn’t know about the body cams. Not that Lily knows the entire truth either. She was told a fabrication of what’s going on tonight, but Kaely knows nothing.
Lance told Lily that he and Parker are working on a facial recognition software for Parker’s club that he’s opening in New York and they want to test it out tonight. He swore her to secrecy, and he claims she’s trustworthy. I laughed out loud when he uttered those words. But I really don’t have a choice since everyone insists she needs protecting.
Kaely is probably the only one among us who truly needs sheltering. The rest of us have been ripped out of our childhoods earlier than we should have been. Some violently, like Ashton and me, and others more dramatically, like Lily. And then there’s Parker, who chose to grow up before he had to, coercing his brothers down his path. And I suppose Brendan’s a combination of all of it. We left our childhoods behind. We should be basking in our formative experiences. Instead, we have crash-landed between learning from our mistakes and having to live with them.
So if we can protect Kaely, like we needed protecting from the adults in our lives, to keep her innocent of the ugliness that is about to take place tonight, then I will do everything I can to hide her within her PG-bubble of bliss and first kisses.
The Cursed Series, Parts 3 & 4: Now We Know/What They Knew Page 31