Pretty Little Devils

by Nancy Holder

  It was confusing. And a little frightening.

  Matty made another fist and the coach bellowed, “You touch anybody else and you are out of this school, Vardeman!”

  “My God. He is really losing it,” Sylvia said. “Hazel, your boyfriend is acting like a total lunatic.”

  “No,” Hazel replied. “Something happened to his knee. And Brandon and Stephan are ganging up on him.”

  “He looks like he’s having a freak-out,” Carolyn said, making a face. “That’s what I call serious anger-management issues.”

  “I don’t know, honey. I wouldn’t want find myself alone with a guy like that.” Sylvia shook her head. “He’s acting like a wild animal.”

  The coach ordered Matty off the field. As he left, he turned to Brandon. “This is not over!”

  “Let’s go,” Sylvia suggested, rising. “Allez.”

  Hazel rose reluctantly and the PLDs filed out of the stands. Hazel gazed over to where Matty was sitting on the benches. He gave her a pleading look. She shrugged and followed the others.

  They were due at Charlie’s in an hour. Sylvia had ordered an emergency soiree—just the PLDs. No one was going to the game now.

  When Hazel got to the Pollins house, Ellen was there—already on duty.

  Her eyes were swollen from crying; she barely listened as everyone discussed Matty’s outré lapse of self-control.

  “I thought he was going to tear Brandon apart,” Sylvia said as they waited in the kitchen for their microwave popcorn. “Didn’t you, Haze?”

  Hazel took a deep breath.

  Ellen turned away, pouring a glass of wine. Her shoulders were tight, her movements stiff and unreal.

  Hazel knew Sylvia was trying to blow things out of proportion. She’d broken up Ellen and Brandon—and Hazel had the distinct feeling she was trying to do the same to her and Matty.

  That was not going to happen. Hazel wasn’t going to give in to Sylvia’s little power trip. She just needed to figure out the best way to get Sylvia to lay off.

  The microwave dinged and Sylvia pulled open the door. She plucked the hissing bag out by its top and continued. “We’re going to have to keep an eye on him, mes petites. Better to find out if there’s something wrong with him now than to get your heart broken later.” She gestured silently toward Ellen, who still had her back turned.

  “Hate to agree,” Carolyn murmured as she got the popcorn bowl out of the cabinet.

  Megan nodded. “Sylvia’s right.” She placed a comforting hand on Hazel’s arm. “It happened to me—and it happened to Ellen.”

  “You need wine,” Sylvia said, in the same voice someone at a funeral would use to comfort the bereaved. Hazel had to struggle to keep from rolling her eyes.

  Sylvia poured a glass and handed it over with a sigh. “Oh, Scrunchie Girl, so stressed. Don’t give up on him yet. We don’t know what happened. He may have had a perfectly good reason for trying to beat up Brandon in the middle of football practice.” She smiled broadly and changed the topic. “Now, let’s talk about homecoming. There’s lots of planning to do and—”

  “I’m not going,” Ellen cut in.

  “What? What do you mean, ma cherie?” Sylvia chirped.

  “I’m not going to homecoming,” Ellen growled. “Brandon is up for king and I can’t deal.”

  Sylvia shook her head. “Well…fine. I can set you up with a job that night, if that’s what you really want.”

  “Whatever,” Ellen mumbled, leaving the room.

  Megan raised her brows. “Someone’s in a pissy mood.”

  “She’s just upset,” Sylvia snapped, turning her laser glare on Megan. “If you ever felt the way she did—about a boy—you would know what she’s going through.”

  Megan’s mouth dropped open; she blanched as if Sylvia had just slapped her.

  Hazel couldn’t suppress a bitter smirk. There it was. Sylvia’s way of keeping everyone in line. No one’s secrets were off-limits. At least, not to her.

  Sylvia smiled and busied herself putting another bag of popcorn in the microwave.

  The girls carried the popcorn and bottles of wine into the living room, and everyone started finding places. Sylvia had decreed that they would watch The Ring—a little horror to keep their minds off things.

  Hazel shuddered. The Ring had given her nightmares for weeks, and with all the strange stuff going on lately, it was bound to give her a few more.

  Ellen was in Charlie’s room, tucking him in for the night. While they waited for her to return, Sylvia whispered to Hazel, “Be extra nice to Ellie. I’m afraid this is going to do her in.”

  Hazel raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What makes you say that?”

  Sylvia bit her lip, as if reluctant to go on. “Ellen’s very fragile. She’s had some bad spells in the past.”

  Hazel wasn’t sure what that meant—if it was real or another one of Sylvia’s overstatements. She was going to ask when Ellen came into the room.

  Sylvia patted the empty space on the couch beside her. “Saved you a spot.”

  “Thanks,” Ellen said. She flashed Sylvia an anxious smile as she sat down. Sylvia handed her one of the bowls of popcorn.

  When the movie ended, the girls packed up to leave.

  Hazel carried the popcorn bowls into the kitchen. Megan washed out their wineglasses. They both looked up when Carolyn and Sylvia tiptoed in, giggling, and gestured to follow them.

  Sylvia led the way back into the living room. Ellen sat on the sofa, picking popcorn out of the upholstery.

  Sylvia then raised her hand toward the TV. Hazel could see that she was holding the remote. She counted silently to three. Carolyn flicked off the lights.

  The TV strobed on. Ellen screamed!

  Sylvia, Megan, and Carolyn burst into laughter. Carolyn turned the lights back on.

  “Gotcha!” Sylvia cheered as she flipped the TV off. “You thought that girl from the well was coming to get you!”

  “Oh God, you guys!” Ellen cried, smoothing back her hair and trying to look cool. “I almost wet my pants!”

  “What’s wrong?” a tiny voice asked.

  It was Charlie, poking his head out of his room. He wasn’t wearing his glasses, and Hazel wondered if he could even see them.

  “It’s nothing, kiddo. Just a joke,” Hazel assured him. “We didn’t mean to wake you up.

  “Is someone hurt?” he persisted.

  “No, no. We saw a creepy movie and we were scaring each other. Go back to bed.”

  “You’re not staying?” he asked. His eyes were squinty and his face was pinched.

  “Not tonight. But I’ll be back soon.”

  Charlie retreated into his room.

  “Okay, time to go,” Sylvia announced, suddenly standing at the door. “Better lock up, Ellen. And if that weird chick climbs out of the TV? Just tell her you’re going to make a copy.”

  Ellen didn’t bother to pretend that she thought that was funny. She stood in the doorway as the others left, her arms around herself.

  “You take care,” Hazel murmured, giving Ellen a hug. “It’s going to work out.”

  “I know,” Ellen said unenthusiastically. She closed the door, and Hazel and the others headed for their cars.

  They were about halfway down the front walk when Sylvia stopped short.

  “Wait,” she said. She pulled her cell phone out of her purse and dialed a number. As she put the phone to her ear, she pointed to the living room window. Though the drapes were pulled, Hazel could still see Ellen’s shadow as she crossed back into the room.

  The phone rang inside the house. It rang again. Then it stopped as Ellen picked it up.

  “Seven days,” Sylvia croaked. Then she hung up.

  Last year, Hazel had gone to homecoming with Joy and the girls in a big group. It had been fun, even though they didn’t know any of the kids who were up for court. They’d dressed up and danced with each other and a couple of guys who were just friends.

  But homecoming was very
different if you were a PLD.

  If you were a PLD, your girlfriends spent hours with you at the mall, making sure you had the most perfect dress you ever owned. Sylvia put it on her Visa and told you that you could worry about it later. They worked with you on the shoes, the hair, the makeup. They spent hours on you, and you did the same for them.

  And when you walked into the gym, heads turned. Because PLDs shone.

  Hazel knew they looked like movie stars as they entered the gym—decorated tonight as an enchanted forest. Fake flocked Christmas trees and a sweet candy cottage from a student production of Hansel and Gretel stood on either side of the basketball court. Strings of delicate twinkle lights hung above yards and yards of gauzy, midnight blue fabric. The floor was strewn with fake snow.

  A fairyland, and four fairy princesses glided into the magical setting, basking in the admiration of everyone else. They all wore black, with accents of purple—purple buds in her hair for Sylvia, a purple sheen to Megan’s dress, purple swirls of beads on Carolyn’s shoes, and Hazel had a purple wrist corsage.

  In the days leading up to the dance, Hazel worried that wrist corsages were passé. Sylvia reassured her: if a PLD wore one, they were hot again.

  Hazel felt the glow; she saw it. She couldn’t help but love it.

  She spied Matty across the floor. He was dressed in a sharp black tux, very simple, very elegant. Their eyes locked, and he made his way to her through the crowd.

  “Don’t forget,” Sylvia whispered, never losing her bright smile, “he may have apologized for freaking out, but he’s still on probation.”

  “Right,” Hazel said through her own clenched teeth.

  Matty had apologized to Hazel for his freak-out—in the cafeteria, in front of all the PLDs. He’d explained that he was in pain and he’d temporarily lost it. Brandon understood that. It wasn’t a big deal, but he was sorry if he scared her. It was a guy thing, nothing serious.

  Sylvia approved of this pandering and hadn’t said anything against Matty since.

  Matty reached her and took her hands. He gazed at her admiringly.

  “Whoa.” He said simply that. Hazel didn’t need anything more.

  She pulled the purple rose boutonniere she had bought for him out of its box. Matty leaned over so she could pin it on his lapel, and when she was finished, he stayed down so that Hazel could give him a peck on the lips.

  Then Josh and Brandon showed. Brandon silently scanned the knot of PLDs.

  “Bon soir, Brandon.” Sylvia grinned.

  Brandon remained silent. His gaze rested momentarily on Hazel.

  She knew what he was asking: was Ellen was going to be there? She gave her head a quick little shake. He sighed and moved off without glancing Sylvia’s way.

  “Sylvia. You look amazing,” Josh gushed.

  Sylvia turned and focused on him; she bent her finger in a come-hither way. Then she opened a floral box and brought out Josh’s boutonniere, identical in every way to Matty’s.

  “Be careful or I’ll hurt you,” she said to Josh as she pinned it on the lapel of his tux. “Ah, mais tu es tellement beau.”

  “Merci, ma belle,” Josh said.

  The PLDs settled into a table that Sylvia had gotten someone to save them—Hazel wasn’t sure how, but it was the kind of thing she was so good at.

  The four girls were on high alert for Breona Wu. So far she hadn’t shown—but no way was the head cheerleader skipping homecoming. The strange texts and phone calls Hazel had been receiving had slowed, but Sylvia was convinced that Breona was involved and that something big was going to happen with her tonight.

  The long notes of a slow song poured through the speakers. Hazel wished it would never end. Matty drew her into his arms. She leaned her head on his chest. She could hear his heart, beating so fast. He smelled amazing.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Hey,” she answered, contented.

  “Are you having fun?”

  Hazel gazed into Matty’s deep brown eyes. “It’s the best homecoming ever.”

  “I’m glad.” He paused. “I just hope that nothing ruins this.”

  “Why would it be ruined?” Hazel asked.

  “It’s just—it feels like we always have to worry about them.” He glanced over his shoulder at the PLDs. “Sometimes I wish we could just be alone.”

  Hazel stopped dancing. “As far as I’m concerned, we’re the only people in the room.”

  Matty stooped to kiss her. Her eyes fluttered closed.

  “Excusez-moi.”

  Hazel’s eyes flew open. Sylvia was standing next to her. The expression on her face reminded Hazel of a cat about to pounce on a bird.

  “C’mon,” she said to Hazel. She held out her cell phone and gave it a shake. To Matty, “We’ll be right back.”

  “I’m sorry,” Hazel whispered.

  Matty shot Hazel an annoyed look but let her go. Megan and Carolyn were already waiting by the door.

  Sylvia grinned as they scampered outside. Hazel began to shiver in the chilly night air. Fog was swirling in the parking lot. She thought of her first night at the Darlings and a little shiver crept up her spine.

  “Okay.” Sylvia punched in a number. “This is going to be great.”

  The other three grouped around her. Hazel could hear a distant ringing, then Ellen picking up.

  “Seven days,” Sylvia croaked. “Tonight you die!”

  She clicked off as Megan cracked up.

  “Recycled prank. She’ll know it’s us,” Carolyn groused.

  “God, you guys. The Duvaliers’ house is in the middle of nowhere,” Hazel said. “It’s freaky out there. Why don’t you just leave her alone?”

  “Oh, please,” Sylvia drawled. “If we didn’t prank our Ellie, how would she know how much we love her?”

  “I’ve got an idea. Why don’t we really prank her?” Carolyn suggested.

  “You mean, something stroke-inducing? Like our masterpiece with Hazel?” Megan asked.

  “Yes! The ultimate prank!” Sylvia nodded. “It’s the perfect way to get Ellen’s mind off that loser. So—everybody think about it, okay? I want your best ideas on Monday.”

  Back in the gym, Hazel found a much bigger crowd. The band had kicked it up a notch and the dance floor was filled. Everyone seemed to be in high spirits, dancing and singing along.

  Through the crush, she caught a glimpse of Matty. Anxious to rekindle the mood, she shouldered her way across the floor.

  “Hi, Hazel!” someone squealed. It was Lakshmi. She was wearing lavender chiffon—probably in hopes of resembling a PLD.

  Sadly, she looked more like a bridesmaid. Hazel gave a quick wave and kept moving.

  She had nearly reached Matty when she froze.

  A girl’s hands were wrapped around Matty’s neck. He was locked in an intense kiss.

  Hazel felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. He was kissing another girl. But who?

  When the two pulled apart, Hazel saw the girl’s face.

  Breona Wu.

  She was wearing a low-cut red dress and had drowned her face, chest, and arms in iridescent sparkles. She was so drunk she was stumbling, and her lipstick was severely smeared.

  Matty turned and found Hazel. She stared at him—immobilized, like a deer in headlights.

  “Hazel,” he began.

  “Hey, baby,” Breona slurred, teetering back on her red heels. “Happy homecoming. Give your date another kiss.”

  She grabbed Matty again, and his face contorted with anger. “Leave me alone, you psycho!” He grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her down, hard.

  Breona slammed to the floor.

  “What the hell are you doing?” she screamed. Everyone in the gym turned to face her.

  “Stay away from me. Not only are you a slut, but you’re a whack job!” Matty continued, his voice mean and low and scary.

  Hazel searched his face. His rage made him unrecognizable—like that day on the football field.


  “Matty, c’mon, baby,” Breona slurred, pawing toward him.

  “Matty?” Hazel asked.

  Breona seemed to notice her for the first time.

  “You bitch!” she shrieked at Hazel. “You PLDs! You think you’re all so hot! But all you do is steal people’s boyfriends and do shit that gets them arrested! You are so freaking evil! All of you!” She lunged toward Hazel.

  Matty stepped between them. He grabbed Breona by the arm and squeezed—hard. “You touch her and I swear to God, I’ll kill you,” he growled before letting her go.

  He took Hazel by the hand. “Let’s get the hell away from here.”

  “Don’t you turn your back on me!” Breona shrieked. “I’ll tell her everything! Does she know about us, Matty? Huh? Does she?”

  “What is she talking about?” Hazel asked.

  “Nothing. Someone should just put her out of her misery,” Matty muttered.

  He strode out the back entrance of the gym, dragging Hazel with him. When he got outside, he put his hands on his knees and sucked in big, deep breaths.

  “God.” He shook his head. “This is unreal.”

  “Matty, what happened in there?” Hazel demanded, her body vibrating with worry. “Why was Breona calling you her date?”

  Matty stared at her for a moment, then began. “I didn’t think I should tell you. I didn’t want you to worry.”

  “Worry about what?” Hazel urged.

  “When I first got here. Breona and I. We kind of fooled around,” Matty confessed.

  “What?” Hazel asked, incredulous.

  “It was way before you and I hooked up,” Matty clarified, “before school even started. It wasn’t a big thing. It lasted, like, a week. I told Breona it was over, but she just wouldn’t let go. She started calling my house at all hours, hanging up. I couldn’t exactly prove it was her, but who else would it be?”

  Hazel studied Matty. She peered deep into his eyes, searching for even the hint of a lie. He gazed back—nothing but honesty.

  His story, Hazel thought. It sounds so much like Sylvia’s. Breona being psycho, unable to let go.

  It couldn’t just be a coincidence. Could it?

  Matty loosened his tie. “Let’s get out of here for a while,” he suggested. “Get some air. Maybe go for a drive?”