But Zoë continued to babble on, praising her princess savior.
• • •
The gods of favorable seating, who had smiled on Rachel at Thanksgiving dinner, were not so kind to her during the week that followed. As each new class dawned, she found herself trapped in a dilemma. If she timed her arrival perfectly, she could arrange matters so as to position herself between the princess and Astrid and thus sit next to both girls. But if she arrived too late, they were already sitting separately, and she was forced to choose.
Principle required that Rachel sit with Nastasia, by virtue of the princess’s higher rung on the loyalty ladder. To her shame, however, Rachel was more influenced by the fact that, if not picked, Astrid did not chide her and make her feel bad. This was partially because Astrid was so shy but also because she was so good-natured. If left alone, she never seemed dismayed; yet she always seemed so pleased when Rachel did sit beside her. The two of them would talk earnestly about homework and Astrid’s concerns about doing well in class—when not giggling about the manly charms of Rachel’s boss, the handsome P.E. teacher, upon whom Astrid had a crush.
Nastasia, on the other hand, seemed quite distressed if Rachel sat elsewhere. She pouted and frowned, even if Rachel’s absence was because she “accidentally” arrived too late to find a free seat beside her friend. So every time it came down to a choice, Rachel picked Nastasia, and then had to sit and endure the sycophantic idol-worshiping of Joy and Zoë, who—since regaining her hair-changing talent—had taken up Joy’s habit of doting on the princess. Rachel kept up a cheerful demeanor, but she could not help feeling a little sad.
Zoë had originally been her friend.
By Thursday morning, Rachel decided to start arriving at class very early, though this sometimes proved difficult, as it meant she had to shake Nastasia and the others in order to arrive before them. But she managed to reach the classroom for Math before anyone else got there. She chose a seat, put her books prominently atop the table, and ran off for a quick dash to the loo.
When she returned, Nastasia and her entourage were all seated at one end of the table. Astrid sat by herself at another. Zenobia Jones—the dark-skinned Drake Hall girl from Chicago who always referred to Rachel as “training broom,” or, worse, “training bra”—was seated in the chair Rachel had originally picked, chatting with the plump and ostentatious Charybdis Nutt and with ringleader Belladonna Marley—the granddaughter of Aaron Marley, associate of the Terrible Five, and descendant of Ebenezer Scrooge’s ghostly partner—who as always, had drowned her eyes in eyeliner. Rachel’s books were nowhere to be seen.
Looking around, she saw Napoleon Powers, the grandson of the Grand Inquisitor who had been killed at the start of the Terrible Years, and the ever-sneering Arcturus Steele tossing her copy of Euclid back and forth across the table. Her notebook was sticking out of the trash, and, upon closer inspection, she realized that Zenobia, Belladonna, and Charybdis were doodling in her math manual. When they saw her, they began whispering feverishly. Rachel could not hear them, but she made out the word “Eunice.”
Rachel did not let on that she had heard, but, underneath, she seethed. Colleen and Tess seemed to have forgotten the incident with the juice in the kitchen, but Eunice still scowled at her or, worse, tried to trip her, at every opportunity. Apparently, Eunice was now engaging little helpers to do her dirty work.
Rachel snatched her manual away from the mocking girls and retrieved her notebook from the trashcan, amidst snickering—some from her fellow Dare students, who did not realize how the book came to be there. The boys, however, just tossed her Euclid higher.
“Sigfried,” Rachel walked over to her blood brother, where he was recounting the story of his fight against the dragon in the London Underground to Seth Peregrine, who was apparently laboring to turn the event into a song. She pointed at Napoleon and Arcturus. “That flying copy of Euclid? That’s my book.”
A happy grin spread slowly over the handsome boy’s face. He rolled up his sleeves. By the time Mrs. MacDannan arrived, Powers had a black eye, and Steele’s nose bled steadily. As the tutor took her seat, Lucky burped loudly, having just swallowed the ashes of what had once been Steele’s homework.
Chapter Nineteen:
Stealth Boyfriends
“Nice work back there.” Seth slapped Siggy on the back as they left class, heading down the marble staircase. “I credit my leet teaching skills.”
“The upper cut worked great, but I think I need more work on my left cross,” Sigfried replied, still grinning the huge grin he had kept up all through math class. He swung his fist once or twice, demonstrating one of the moves he just named. Rachel had no idea which one.
“You were so brave!” squealed Joy.
“You know they’re going to try to get back at you,” drawled Zoë.
Siggy snorted with infinite disdain. “I fight dragons. And demons. They can take a number and stand in line. But I don’t mind beating them up again, if they want to come at me,” he added. “I can use the practice.”
He paused and tried another two or three punches at some imaginary opponent, still bobbing and weaving his head.
Seth stepped beside him and demonstrated a stance and punch. “Try it more like this.”
Joy paused to gawk at the two boys and their display of prime masculine flesh in action. Zoë stayed with her, leaning casually against the wall and smirking, more at Joy’s expense than because of the boys. The princess gave the two young men a royal nod of approval and glided onward, in keeping with the opinion she had voiced on previous occasions that fisticuffs was a fine activity for young men but not one that ladies cared to watch.
When Rachel fell in beside her, Nastasia sighed. “I wish Zoë and Joy would not make such a fuss over me. It is most undignified.”
Rachel nodded, “I guess Zoë’s grateful.”
“But I did nothing!” The princess’s voice wobbled slightly. “All I did was lose her!”
Rachel nodded sympathetically, and the two girls exchanged looks of kindred dismay.
• • •
They reached the lunch room. Rachel was waiting for an opportunity to discreetly peel away from Nastasia, so she could sit with Gaius, when her older sister Laurel grabbed her wrist.
“Dongsaeng,”—Laurel peered down at her through long, straight hair—“did you actually talk to Ivan Romanov about him marrying me?”
Laurel was tall and sprouting ever taller. Over the last few years, she had developed long, long legs that drove the local farm boys at home wild when she strolled casually down the dusty lanes in skirts that were way too short. While not as absurdly curvaceous as their tiny mother, Rachel’s middle sister turned heads wherever she went. Rachel had once seen an experienced aristocratic horseman, three times their age, so stunned by her sister’s prodigious bust line and coltish charms that he rode smack into a branch and knocked himself senseless.
Unlike Rachel and Peter, Laurel preferred the subfusc style uniform. Her dark, knee-length skirt stuck out from beneath her old parka that was now too short for her. Around her neck, she had wound a bright red scarf.
“He said he was going to, but now it’s just a joke,” Rachel replied, downcast. “Though he also told me that his mother said that marrying you would be marrying beneath him. Why he would ask his mother, if he was just joking, I don’t know.”
She did not know what was worse, having been tricked by Ivan Romanov or having Laurel discover that her little sister had been duped.
“Sweetie, he was probably being nice. Could you come with me? I should have done this a while ago.”
Laurel took Rachel’s hand. The two of them walked out of the dining hall and across campus to Dee Hall, a great granite edifice with four domed towers and statues of famous sorcerers and philosophers gazing down from pedestals set around the roof. On the high steps, before the imposing great oak door of the hall, Laurel asked a student who was heading inside to please grab Charlie. The student nodded and
went into the dorm.
Laurel and Rachel waited. The day was balmy. Puffy white clouds sailed through a brilliant blue sky. Rachel and her sister stood on the landing, looking out over the snowman-dotted campus. Watching students skating on the lily pond, Rachel wondered what happened to the sea fairies who lived in the pond during the winter. Did they hibernate, like fish?
A tall, brown-haired young man emerged. He wore glasses and had a bookish look to him. Yet, he was quite physically fit. From the shape of his features and his expression, Rachel guessed that when he spoke he would sound British. He had a look that reminded her of several distant cousins.
“Hello, Laurel,” he exclaimed in a crisp upper-class English accent.
He leaned over and kissed Rachel’s sister on her mouth. Laurel looked a little flushed. Rachel blinked at the tall young man in puzzlement. Who was he? Why was he kissing her sister?
“You’re Rachel, correct?” the young man asked cheerfully. “It’s a pleasure to finally be introduced. I am assuming I am finally being introduced, that is…”
He glanced at Laurel who smiled and nodded. He straightened.
“The Lady Rachel Griffin, I am Charles Fairweather.” He spoke with great formality. “I believe you have heard of my family. We’ve produced a long line of Agents, and my grandfather fought under yours, before Granddad retired to our country seat. Also my mother is an Abney-Hastings, as is your grandmother. It is a pleasure.”
He offered his hand. Rachel stared at it suspiciously.
Laurel rolled her eyes. “Charlie, could you turn off the pompous? It gets old rather fast.”
“This is our first meeting,” he objected. “It should be proper, should it not?”
A loud whomp came from behind Laurel. Laurel’s eyes became very wide, and she squeaked. Then her face turned bright red. She was still smiling, but her “Laurel is about to do something bad” look had begun creeping over her face.
Rachel took in the ramifications of the cheerful, smiling beanpole, the kiss, and the swat on her sister’s behind. Her cheeks began to turn redder and redder, until she was the same color as her sister’s scarf.
Laurel had a boyfriend.
The other two smiled down at Rachel. A terrible shyness stole over her. Suddenly, she could not bear to be the center of their attention. Ducking around Laurel, she hid her head behind her sister’s shoulder. The other two watched her antics without comment.
As she head there, questions ran through her head. How long had Laurel been dating? Why hadn’t she told anyone? Had they just started seeing each other? Rachel could not bear it any longer.
“Unni!” The words burst out of her. “Why didn’t you mention you had a boyfriend! Why didn’t you say ‘No,’ when Ivan spoke to you in September? Oh! The princess would have been my sister!”
“I thought he was teasing,” Laurel shrugged. “I thought he knew about Charlie.”
“What’s this about Ivan?” Charlie looked from one to the other.
“Nothing.” Laurel gave him a sweet smile.
A group of athletes returning from the gym came clomping up the stairs. With a gracious gesture, Charlie opened the door for them. They passed by, stamping on the doormat to shake the wet snow from their boots. As Charlie let the door close after them, Rachel pulled herself together and bravely came out from behind her sister. Walking up to the tall young man, she extended her hand.
“Please excuse me, Mr. Fairweather. I was taken by surprise. How do you do?”
He accepted, and the two solemnly shook hands.
Looking the young man directly in the eye, she demanded coolly, “What are your intentions toward my sister, and what are your prospects?”
She had hoped to embarrass Laurel by flustering her beau, but Charlie was not the least bit flustered.
“I have been dating your sister for some time,” he replied cheerfully, “and my intention is to marry her, should I receive the permission of her father and mine. If not, I fully intend to kidnap her, roll her up in a flying carpet, and elope. I apologize to you in advance, if that should come to pass.”
Rachel narrowed her eyes and stared at him, trying to take his measure. He seemed enthusiastic, a bit goofy, and sincere. She did not sense any dissembling or devious intent.
Leaning forward, she whispered to Lauren, “Do you like him, unni? Should I offer to help with the kidnapping?”
Laurel blinked. “Yeah, he’s okay. I really don’t think he’ll need help kidnapping me…”
“Oh…he’s just ‘ooo-kaaay.’” Rachel drew out the word as long as she could. She turned back to Charlie, tossing her head imperiously. “You’ll have to elicit a stronger endorsement from my sister than ‘okay’ before I help you. Besides,” she sighed with dramatic sadness, “I had so hoped both my sisters would be queens. You wouldn’t happen to be a prince of anything, would you? Some hidden kingdom of which you could make Laurel the queen?”
He sighed in return. “Sadly, no. My family is rather well off, though, and I promise I shall treat her like a princess.”
“I suppose that will have to do.” Rachel gave a curt nod of approval. “Do keep me in mind, should the need to kidnap arise. You will find me surprisingly resourceful.”
“I certainly shall,” Charlie promised solemnly.
Rachel concluded with a wicked twinkle in her eye, “After all, there’s no better bonding for future brothers and sisters-in-law than committing some outrageous crime together.”
He looked around and then whispered, “Of what kind of crime are we speaking? A heist perhaps? I’ve heard good things about them. Terribly exciting and all that.”
“I had meant the crime of kidnapping my sister,”—Rachel glanced sidelong at Laurel and then leaned toward Charlie in a conspiratorial manner—“but if you are up for some other crime, I’m in! So is Sigfried!”
He interlaced his fingers and stretched, as if limbering them up. “Being a rebel who plays by his own rules means I am always up for some type of terribly illicit deed.”
Laurel rolled her eyes. “No, he is not! For some reason, he got it in his mind that I want him to be a ne’er-do-well. Or a rotter. but I like him because he’s nice! If I wanted a cad, I’d go date Almeida or some other idiot. Also, Charlie’s terribly smart. I think smart is sexy.”
Rachel shivered and blinked rapidly. She could not imagine any member of the Griffin family dating a bully like Seymour Almeida. But then the latter part of Laurel’s comment dawned on her, and her head nodded up and down very rapidly.
“Oh, I do, too!” cried Rachel. “Smart is the best!”
The funny thing was, if Rachel had been asked to pick what kind of man her sister Laurel would most likely date, she would have chosen someone like the very kind of ne’er-do-well that Charlie Fairweather was pretending to be. It amazed her that Laurel would pick someone so bookish and goofy. It made her think much better of her sister.
Eager to establish a rapport with this young man who might someday be her brother-in-law, Rachel turned and gave Charlie an evaluating glance. “Smart…eh? Would you be up for joining the Library of All Worlds project?”
“What now? Library of All Worlds?” he asked curiously, “Sounds terribly fascinating. Where’s it located?” Glancing surreptitiously at Laurel out of the corner of his eye, he puffed out his chest. “Cause, you know, I wanna smoke in its parking lot.”
Laurel pursed her lips and tried to look annoyed. At this, she utterly failed. Giggles escaped from her like bubbles from champagne. She rested her head on his shoulder and looked extremely pleased. He put his arm around her and looked very pleased as well.
Rachel smiled at them both. “It isn’t located anywhere yet. I haven’t started it. But it’s been prophesied, so I’m looking for good people. As to where? I don’t know? Bavaria maybe? The Lesser Realm of Dreams? We’ll find a good spot.”
“Von Dread’s kingdom? A bit barbaric, is it not?” Charlie’s eyebrows shot up. “As for the lesser realm of dreams, aren�
�t books notorious for being unreadable in dreams?”
“I haven’t worked out the details yet,” Rachel said, “but it sounds like a really wonderful idea. A library bigger than any other library.”
“I’m in!” declared Charlie.
Rachel looked from Charlie to Laurel and back to Charlie.
“Excuse me a moment,” she said to him.
She walked around until she stood on her tiptoes by Laurel’s ear, her hand beside her mouth, as if she wished to speak privately to her sister, but she did not bother to whisper.
“Umm, unni…hallo? What is it about our family and Stealth Boyfriends? Is the Stealth Boyfriend a family tradition? If so, why didn’t you and Sandra tell me? I could have kept Gaius a secret, so as to be part of the club. Does Peter have a Stealth Girlfriend? And do you all know about each other’s Stealth Significant Others? Am only I kept out of the loop? Or do you keep them secret from each other, too? Does Sandra know about your Stealth Boyfriend? Do you know about her Stealth Boyfriend?”
“Sandra has a boyfriend?” Laurel practically shouted. “Who is it?”
“Didn’t…she have a boyfriend last year?” Rachel asked, puzzled.
“Sandra? The Vestal Virgin? No way! I mean, she had lots of friends who were boys, but I didn’t think she was dating any of them. I thought she was waiting for Daddy to say it was okay for her to date or something. You know how protective Dad can be. Who is it? Oh my gosh it’s not William Locke, is it?”
Rachel felt extremely puzzled—though inside, she gleefully crowed at how secretive her oldest sister was: No wonder the Wisecraft picked Sandra for spy work. Aloud, she asked, “But…how come Seymour Almeida knows who Sandra’s dating, and you don’t?”
Laurel glared at her. “Dongsaeng, tell me now! Is it Locke? Locke’s richer than Midas. I think he’d be a suitable brother-in-law.”
“Can’t be Locke,” Rachel replied. “He’s dating Naomi Coil.”
“Finally got over Cousin Blackie, did she?” smirked Laurel.
Rachel’s jaw dropped. She stared at her sister, bug-eyed for a full half of a minute before blurting out, “Naomi Coil is the girl Blackie wanted to marry?”
The Awful Truth About Forgetting (Books of Unexpected Enlightenment Book 4) Page 22