I glanced over quickly, then did a double take, slamming on the brakes. Someone hadn’t vandalized the statue. Someone had gouged marks into the stone around the base.
Wards. Right next to the other ones, the ones Saylor had put up to keep David safe.
My heart pounding, I turned the car so that we were heading toward Magnolia House.
“Harper?” Bee asked, twisting in her seat. “We’re going the wrong way.”
“Tiny detour,” I promised.
Magnolia House, the huge mansion where Cotillion had been held, stood on a shady, oak-lined lane, but as we passed, I was able to see more marks on the wooden columns of the front porch. Another place where Saylor had her wards. They were still there, but now there were new ones next to them.
It had to be Alexander, or whoever he had working for him. But what did those wards do?
• • •
An hour or so later, I was the owner of two new pairs of shoes, a dress for Spring Fling, some new jeans, and a gorgeous Lilly Pulitzer skirt. Too bad none of that made me feel much better.
“You’re making that face again,” Bee said, nodding at me over a rack of cute rugby-striped shirts.
I shook my head, like that would somehow change my expression. I’d explained to Bee about the wards, but they were still on my mind. When Saylor had talked about the Ephors, I’d always pictured them in this more . . . administrative role, I guess. Guys in suits, pulling the strings, not guys with actual powers of their own. But Alexander had somehow managed to blow through the wards we’d put up, and now he was apparently setting up the Peirasmos all on his own. Were the new wards to help him, then? Or could wards, like, cancel one another out?
Adding to my irritation, I’d texted Ryan like five times about it, and had yet to get a reply. Funny how the one time I needed him to step up to the plate, he was missing in action.
“Lots on my mind,” I told Bee.
She gave a sympathetic frown. “Nothing new on the trials?”
“Nothing,” I said on a sigh. It had been a few days, and I knew we only had twenty-eight days—one full moon cycle, Alexander had said—to complete the Peirasmos, but other than Ryan’s false alarm, nothing weird had happened at all.
Which felt weird in and of itself.
Now, I walked around the rack of clothes and looped my arm through Bee’s, tugging her out of the store. “Come on. I have an angst only Cinnabon can cure.”
When we got to the food court, Bee went off in search of drinks while I grabbed us a couple of cinnamon rolls.
By the time I got back, Bee was already at a table near the carousel, two Diet Cokes in front of her, and she pushed mine toward me as I sat down, along with a pale pink flyer.
“Look what I found!”
I took the flyer from her, raising my eyebrows. “The Miss Pine Grove Pageant?”
Bee took a sip of her drink and nodded. “We should do it.”
Blinking, I chewed on the end of my straw and tried to think of the best way to answer that. A group of girls I recognized from school walked by, their arms laden down with bags, and Bee watched them pass with a wistful expression on her face.
But then she shook her head quickly, and turned back to the flyer, tapping it with one manicured nail. “Look at the date.”
I did. “May first?” I read, and Bee nodded. “Last day of this moon cycle. Didn’t Alexander say that the trials would take up one full moon cycle?”
He had, but all that had meant to me was that we had a nice timeline—almost a month. I hadn’t considered what might be happening on any of those days.
“The Ephors are big drama queens, right?” Bee said, still looking at the flyer. “Look at what happened on the night of Cotillion.” When she lifted her head, her eyes were brighter than I’d seen them in a long time. “The trials are going to be connected to you, which makes me think they’ll be at school, or involve the town somehow. Stuff like that since that’s, like, your whole wheelhouse.”
Bee definitely had a point, and I wasn’t sure what bugged me more: the idea of something big going down in front of my whole town again, or that she had had that idea and I hadn’t.
When I didn’t say anything, Bee gave a little shrug. “And, hey, if I’m wrong, it’ll still be something kind of fun we did together. Something normal.”
I couldn’t help but snort at that. “Okay, Bee, I love you, but the Miss Pine Grove Pageant is far from normal. There is nothing normal about parading around in bathing suits and high heels.” I didn’t add that when my sister, Leigh-Anne, had done the pageant years ago, my parents had practically had a stroke over it. I didn’t even want to think how they’d react to me wanting to do it.
Flashing me a look, Bee stirred her drink. “Oh, come on. It’ll be fun. And it’s not that much different from Cotillion.”
It was worlds away from Cotillion, and I started to say that, but then Bee stabbed at her drink and said, “And, hey, maybe more people will remember I exist if I have a big honking tiara on my head.”
She was joking, but the words still cut pretty deep, and I chewed on the end of my straw, thinking. I couldn’t blame Bee for wanting some normalcy in her life after all that had happened to her. Besides, if she was right that this was when the last trial would happen, best to be prepared.
“It might look good on a college application,” I acknowledged. “Showing a broad interest in things.”
Bee smiled, her teeth straight and white. “Is that a yes?”
I thought of how The Aunts would react to the sight of another one of their nieces parading around in a swimsuit at the rec center and shuddered. “Do you promise I won’t have to sing?”
Bee beamed at me. “Of course not.” Then a dimple popped up in her cheek as she narrowed her eyes and added, “Besides, you’re supposed to have an actual talent for the talent competition, Harper, and no one could call your singing a ‘talent.’”
I tossed a balled-up napkin at her. “Ha-ha.”
“Sign-ups for this are next week,” I told Bee, tapping the flyer. “So you prepare answers about world peace, and I’ll brush up on my baton skills.”
Bee took the paper and folded it up, putting it in her purse. “Good deal.” She glanced up then, her face brightening. “Oh, look, it’s Ryan!”
I turned in my chair and our eyes met across the food court. For a second I thought that maybe he hadn’t gotten my texts, but then I saw the guilt flickering across his face. I could tell he wanted to bolt, but it wasn’t like he could pretend he hadn’t seen me.
“Be right back,” I said to Bee, then I walked as quickly as I could to where Ryan stood. He already had his hands shoved in his pockets, so I knew what he was going to say before he said it.
Still, I tried. “Did you get my texts?”
“Harper—”
“There are new wards set up around town, and I don’t know what the heck they do.”
“Yeah, I put them up.”
I don’t think my jaw has ever literally dropped before now. “What do you mean you put them up?”
“Alexander asked me to. It’s part of the thing,” he said, waving one hand. “The . . . peripatetic . . . peri—”
“Peirasmos,” I hissed back. “And what do they do, exactly?”
Ryan’s shoulders rolled underneath his shirt. “They just make sure David stays here. Like how Saylor’s wards kept other people out, these keep him in.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. “Why would Alexander want to do that?”
“I don’t know,” Ryan admitted. “He just said it had something to do with the trials, and—”
“So Alexander has been in touch with you, but not me? And you . . . didn’t bother to tell me?”
“It was literally two days ago, Harper. I was going to tell you, I promise, but . . . look, Mary Beth is weird about me spending time with you, and I’m trying to respect that.”
It was one of the biggest struggles of my life not to roll my eyes at him ri
ght that second, but I managed admirably.
“I understand,” I said, “but I’ve spent the past few days jumping at shadows over this thing. If you know anything about Paladin stuff, you have got to tell me. Especially about stuff that could be dangerous to David.”
Ryan heaved a sigh, shoving his hands in his back pockets. “I’m trying, Harper. I seriously am, but—”
“This isn’t easy on any of us,” I reminded him, but Ryan shook his head.
“No, it’s not, but you have to admit, it’s a little easier on you and David than it is on me.”
I looked up at him. “How do you figure that? David’s visions make him feel like his head is splitting open, I’m worried about him, worried about me, and you, and Bee—”
Ryan leaned closer. “Look, I didn’t say it was a freaking cakewalk for y’all, but at least you have each other. When you get your weird”—he waved his hands in the air around me—“Paladin feelings or David gets one of his visions, you can tell each other. David knows exactly what’s going on with you, and you know exactly what’s going on with him. You don’t have to lie, either of you.”
On the other side of the food court, the carousel was starting up again, the sound of tinkly calliope music filling the air. A little girl was tugging her mother toward a purple painted horse, and as I glanced over at them, I caught a glimpse of two blond heads making their way through the crowd.
Abi and Amanda. Shoot.
Grabbing Ryan’s elbow, I tugged him into the little hallway where the bathrooms and water fountains were. “I understand that this isn’t easy for you,” I said once we were out of sight. “It isn’t easy for me, either, and if you’d like a list of all the reasons why, I could make that for you. With annotations.”
Ryan flicked a glance at the ceiling that wasn’t quite an eye roll, but it was pretty close. Still, I kept going, tightening my fingers in the crook of his elbow. “You can’t not tell me things, Ry. This whole . . . thing. None of it will work if we’re not honest with each other.”
Ryan looked down at me, his auburn brows raised. “Really? You wanna play that card when we’ve been lying to David about his visions since day one?”
I shook my head. “That’s different. That’s for his own safety.”
Ryan blew out a deep breath. “You can keep saying that, Harper, but we can’t keep lying to him. This Alexander guy is already promising David he can help him, but he doesn’t need help. He couldn’t have strong visions because we kept him from having them.”
He reached out and covered my hand still resting on his arm with his own, his fingers curling around mine and squeezing. “We have to tell David the truth.”
“Tell David the truth about what?”
Chapter 12
MARY BETH stood there, arms folded, mouth pressed into a tight line. As much as I hated myself for it, the words “This is not what it looks like” actually came out of my mouth, and from the way Ryan’s eyes practically turned into hazel lasers, I could tell that he hated me for saying it, too.
I won’t get into the details of all that happened next. Have you ever seen teenagers fight embarrassingly in public? It basically went like that. There was yelling and tears and Ryan trying to hug her while she yelled things like, “Don’t touch me!”
Honestly, I tried to leave, but they were both blocking the entrance to the hallway, so in the end, I just stood there by the water fountains, wanting to die of humiliation. I mean, people were looking at us. Lots of people. And if Mary Beth hadn’t finally ripped off her necklace, thrown it at Ryan’s feet, and stormed off, I think a mall cop would’ve shown up, and then I would have had no choice but to change my name and leave town—heck, leave Alabama—forever.
Ryan didn’t try to follow her this time. I guess once someone has thrown jewelry at your face and hollered about forgetting you exist, you sort of figure that ship has sailed. Instead, he squatted down and picked up the necklace, then stayed there, the chain dangling from his fingers, thumbs pressed against his eyebrows.
Bee came around the corner, arms full of bags, her eyes widening when she saw Ryan crouched on the ground and me standing right behind him, worrying my thumbnail with my teeth. As soon as I realized what I was doing, I made a disgusted sound and dropped my hand, wiping it on my skirt. I must’ve picked that up from David; he was always doing stuff like that.
Raising her eyebrows at me, Bee jerked her head toward Ryan.
“Mary Beth” was all I said, and she nodded.
As if his new ex-girlfriend’s name was some sort of magic word, Ryan stood up abruptly, dropping the necklace into his pocket. “Well, that’s effing great,” he said, scrubbing his hands over his face.
Of course, he didn’t actually say “effing,” but it didn’t bother me.
Tentatively, I laid a hand on his shoulder. “At least you don’t have to worry about lying to her anymore?” I offered. We were still standing in the cramped little hallway, my hip almost right against a water fountain, and beyond us, people were still milling through the food court. Of all the places to go through a breakup, it was definitely low on glamour.
Lifting his head, Ryan looked at me. I’d known him almost my whole life. He was the first boy I’d ever kissed. The first boy I’d done . . . other stuff with, too. But in that moment, his handsome face drawn tight, he could’ve been a stranger.
“Whatever,” he said, the word flat and heavy all at once.
I winced like he’d slapped me. Okay, maybe I hadn’t been all that sympathetic to his issues with Mary Beth, but honestly, how did he think it was going to turn out? David and I were all tangled up with him, and there was no getting out of that. I was sorry he was hurt, but if he hadn’t gotten involved with her in the first place, then none of this would have happened.
I think I might have actually said some of that, and probably ruined any chances I had of Ryan and me ever being friends again, but luckily, Bee stepped forward. Putting the shopping bags down, she laid her hand on Ryan’s arm.
“Hey,” she said, her voice warm and sweet. “Would you mind giving me a ride home? Harper drove us here, and she has to run back up to the school.”
I didn’t, and for a second, I frowned at her, confused. And then she gave me a little nod.
“Sure,” Ryan said, his voice still blank, and as he turned to go, Bee looked over her shoulder at me, mouthing, “I’ll talk to him.”
That was good. Bee and Ryan had always gotten along, and if anyone could bring him back around to Team Harper, it was Bee.
I watched them walk off, then gathered up the shopping bags Bee had left with me and trudged out to the parking lot.
To my surprise, David’s car was parked outside my house, and when I came in, Mom glanced up from the couch.
“There you are. David’s in your room. Said the two of you had some kind of school project to work on?”
“Oh, right,” I said, hanging my purse on the coatrack by the door next to my dad’s truly heinous University of Alabama jacket. “Totally forgot, I was out shopping with Bee.”
“Hope my American Express isn’t smoking,” Mom joked, and I pulled a face behind her back. I had indulged in a fair amount of retail therapy today.
As I jogged up the stairs, Mom called, “Door open, please!” and I rolled my eyes even as I called back, “Yes, ma’am!”
My parents had gotten pretty lenient with me and Ryan, I guess because they’d had a long time to get used to him. But something about David had made them hypervigilant on the propriety front, which was ironic, seeing as how me and David weren’t . . . doing those things yet. I mean, we wanted to, and it’s not like the subject hadn’t come up, but the timing had never been right, and now with the trials and the Ephors, I wasn’t sure when exactly things would get all consummated.
Certainly not now while my parents were downstairs, though. Gross.
When I pushed open my door, David was sitting in my desk chair, spinning idly. He stopped when he saw me, holding up his ph
one.
“So apparently you and Ryan caused a scandal at the Pine Grove Galleria today?”
Groaning, I dropped to the end of my bed. “It’s already on Facebook?”
“Yup.” He was looking at me from over the rims of his glasses, eyebrows raised. It was a familiar expression, and I’d always thought it was cute, but today, I wasn’t sure what it meant, exactly.
With an exaggerated wince, I leaned back and put my hands over my face. “That is so embarrassing. Almost as embarrassing as your shirt.”
I heard the chair creak and then felt something nudge my knees. When I lifted my hands, David was leaning over me, his hands braced on either side of my head. There was still some space between us, but if my parents had walked in right then, well, let’s just say David probably wouldn’t have been allowed in my room anymore.
I didn’t care. I let my hand rest on the back of his neck as he nuzzled the underside of my jaw.
“I happen to like this shirt.”
“You happen to like all sorts of ugly things,” I reminded him, even as I closed my eyes and let him dot kisses along the side of my neck. “That shirt, your car, like ninety-nine percent of your shoe collection—hey!”
I broke off laughing and rubbing the spot he’d poked on my ribs. “No fair,” I said, lifting my head to give him a quick kiss. “You know I can’t poke you back.”
Smiling, David eased off me and sat on the floor. I slid down, too, sitting next to him and linking our hands as we both leaned back against my bed.
“So you aren’t mad or jealous or weird?”
“I’m always weird,” he acknowledged with a twist of his lips. “But mad or jealous? Nah. What’s Ryan got that I don’t have? I mean other than height and fabulous hair and cheekbones carved from granite.”
I laughed and shook my head, tugging at his hair. “I like this. Most of the time.”
David’s lips brushed mine, briefly again, and I know I said I wouldn’t do anything with my parents right downstairs, but I’d be lying if I said, in that moment, I didn’t want to.
Miss Mayhem Page 8