“If you put that online, I will kill you.”
Em didn’t even bother to hide the fact that she was still recording the whole thing. “I won’t have to. Someone else will.” She tugged teasingly at the ribbon on my sleeve. “If it makes you feel any better, Dev did a good job of making you actually look desirable. You might get an Internet stalker or two out of this one.”
I twisted my nose up at her. “That’s comforting. Did you know about this?”
“No. He probably planned it the week I had to miss the theatre club meeting. Jerk. I could have gotten a better view of you actually dancing for once if he’d bothered to tell me.” She wiggled her phone at me. “Thankfully, with my ‘get to the front of a crowd’ superpower, at least I got some awesome blackmail material.”
I reached up to grab at her phone. “Let me see—”
She held it out of my reach and gestured towards the dance floor. “No way. Besides, look, he’s got Ms. Alexander out there now.”
When I turned around, he was promenading the little blonde gym teacher through an alleyway made by the other dancers. She was laughing so hard that she could barely stay upright. “Okay. That’s proof that Dev is absolutely certifiable.”
“Wanna take a guess about who he picks as the brunette?”
“Brunette?”
“Don’t you recognize it? It’s that song from the movie we watched at your house a few weeks ago. Viraag? The one where the guy dances with girls with different hair colors?”
Em was right—this was the point in the song where the movie guy had switched to dancing with the heroine, who was a brunette.
“Funny how he picked a song from this movie.” Em said, sounding a little distracted, “He didn’t seem to know about it when you were raving about it in band.”
“I guess we inspired him to check it out.” I giggled as Dev dramatically dropped to his knees and waved Ms. Alexander away like he couldn’t look at her anymore.
“Maybe.” She paused and narrowed her eyes, looking from me to Dev and back at me again. Then, she shook her head and said, “I guess Dev found English lyrics or something. Too bad it screwed up wherever you and Jon were going, but I think this was worth it.”
Jon. Oops. I craned my neck to see him standing on the opposite side of the gym.
“About Jon. I—”
“Huh? What about Jon?” Em let out a whoop as Ms. Alexander gracefully bowed her way out of the flash mob.
“Nothing.” I twisted the dangling end of my rope belt around my fingers like a one handed cat’s cradle. “I don’t think he cares if I’m over here,” I mumbled into my lap.
Em didn’t even hear me over the roar of the crowd. “Oh, no. He didn’t.”
I looked up to see Dev dragging our practically bald Vice Principal dead center of the dance formation and the shock made me immediately forget about Jon and lack of sparks.
“Mr. MacKenzie? No way. He’s going to get suspended. And then Ms. Osoba will kill him for screwing up band practice.” A ripple of laughter ran through the crowd as Dev reached up to ruffle the little that was left of Mr. MacKenzie’s hair while singing about “waves of brown, deep as night.” It was just so ridiculous I couldn’t help but join in with a giggle that made my side hurt.
To my utter amazement, the vice principal joined in the last part of the dance.
“Holy cupcake, he knew. He had to,” Em said over my shoulder. “There’s no way—”
Dev slid off on his knees, landing next to us as the song ended. He grinned up at Em, apparently catching the end of her words.
“Never underestimate the power of the musical theatre club,” he said with a wink before standing and taking a mock bow. “I’m not stupid enough to screw around with MacKenzie.”
“With your grades, you can’t afford to,” Em joked and he rewarded her with a wide grin. “I’m mad you didn’t ask Pine Central’s greatest actress to join in, though.”
Dev shrugged, poking her in the arm playfully. “I figured you’re too much of a diva to want to share the spotlight.”
Em put her hand to her chest like she was wounded. “That hurts, even if it’s probably true.”
As people passed by, clapping him on the back or congratulating him on the ‘epicness’ of the whole flash mob, a few weirdly even congratulated me. “I didn’t—” I protested, but there were just too many of them. Even people who I didn’t know were telling me I did an awesome job. As soon as the worst of the crowd dispersed, Dev pat my shoulder. “Sorry for dragging you out like that, but the line needed a redhead. I figured you wouldn’t kill me. Or fall in love with my heartfelt but swoonworthy acting.”
“That didn’t sound egotistical at all,” I shot back at him as I stood and straightened out my skirt. “But, it’s okay. I think I’ll forgive you if you promise to never do that to me again.” A smile escaped past my faux-annoyed expression.
“Admit it, you liked it.” He tugged at my extensions before peering over at the refreshment table. “I seriously need something to drink. Do either of you want anything?”
I shook my head, but Em grabbed his arm. “I’ll come with you.” Before I could follow, she pointed at my feet and the gold ribbon trailing off of the ghille on my right foot. “Your laces are untied.”
“Crud.” The boning keeping my bodice up didn’t let me bend over to reach my feet and I dropped back into the chair to fiddle with the slippery satin. “Trixie warned me about satin ribbon, but I--” I looked up and trailed off, realizing I was talking to empty air. Once my laces were fixed I started towards Em and Dev, but they were already deep in conversation by the refreshment table. I froze midstep—they looked serious and I totally didn’t want to play third wheel. It was like I was eavesdropping, even though they were all the way across the room. Since when were Em and Dev so close?
My eyes searched the room for anything else to watch. Jon stood by the speakers, basking in the flirt-vibes coming off of a curvy sophomore blonde dressed in one of those genie outfits. It relieved me more than it probably should have.
What would Maeve do right now?
She sure as heck wouldn’t hang around here. She’d be running into the Otherland and back into Aedan’s arms. Aedan’s strong, magical arms that helped protect her from the dark fae and…I sighed, and the dance fell away. Really, they gave me no other choice. I pulled my book out of its hiding place under a pile of coats, slipped onto one of the opened bleachers beneath a bundle of fairy lights, and dove back into book two of Maeve’s world.
4
Even though she was supposed to focus on self-defense, she was acutely aware of how close Aedan had gotten in his last attack, especially when his laughter had pressed more of his battle-trained hard body against her own. With her back up against the hay bale, she couldn’t roll away…and a part of her really didn’t want to. The prickly hay snaking in between the laces of her leather bodice and scraping her skin was no competition for the whisper of his breath across her forehead and cheek. Maeve shut her eyes for a second, took a deep breath to regain her focus, and, before he could finish his attack, mimed a cutting motion against his neck with the point of her arrow. “And I win.”
Aedan laughed even harder, grasping her arrow hand and pinning it to the ground. Slowly, he moved his mouth towards hers and…
“You’re coming with me.” Em grabbed my arm none too gently, and dragged me off of the bleachers.
“Hey!” I shut my book with my free hand and tripped after her, trying to keep upright. “What the heck, Em?”
She pulled me into the girl’s locker room and pushed me unceremoniously onto one of the benches. “We need to talk.” As I watched, she rushed about the room, checking to make sure no one else was in there.
I tried not to laugh at the sight of her crouched on the floor and looking under the bathroom stalls.
“If this is about Jon, he was the one who dropped me for genie girl.” I tilted my head and corrected myself. “I think.”
Satisfied
we were alone, she got up and dropped onto the bench next to me. “Forget about Jon. This is important.”
I frowned at her. “Is everything okay?”
She took a deep breath and focused her serious brown eyes on mine. “How do you feel about Dev?”
Out of everything Em could have asked me, I wasn’t expecting that. What did Dev have to do with anything? “Dev? I’m not mad at him about the dance thing, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“No, dummy. I mean, do you like him?”
“Dev?” I blinked at her stupidly for a few seconds. The image of him sliding across the dance floor rose up in my mind. “I…I never really thought of him like that. I mean, we’re sort of friends, I guess—”
She had that expression on her face that let me know she was getting frustrated. “But do you think he’s hot?”
“I—” I had no idea what to say. I cringed under her stare. “I guess? I mean, he’s really cute, but he’s Dev.” His grin popped into my head again and I had to shake my head slightly to focus. “What’s all this about?”
“He’s totally crushing on you.”
My brain just couldn’t compute this complete and total course change. It was as if someone had switched books on me and I was having plot whiplash. “No, he isn’t.”
She grabbed my arm and shook it like she was trying to shake some sense into me. “Yes, he is. I saw him staring at you at the pep rally, then I noticed that every time you’re at your locker, or God, even in the middle of orchestra, he keeps looking at you. It’s almost stalker-y. And then this whole dance thing—”
I cut her off. “He needed a redhead. I was just the closest one.” I ran my fingers through the waterfall of extensions currently brushing my lap.
Em shook me even harder. “Please. Ms. Zhdanova was, like, two people away from you. And her hair is freakin’ fire hydrant colored. He totally strayed from the teacher theme on purpose to dance with you.”
“Stop being such a conspiracy theorist.” I yanked my arm out of her hands.
“I’m not.”
I lay back on the bench and stared at the ceiling. “This is ridiculous. I’ve never seen him watching me.” I ran a mental inventory and came up with nothing. “I’d know if someone was watching me.”
“You never see anything. You’re always buried in your books or one of your knitting projects.” Em lay down on the other end of the bench, mirroring me so we took up the entire bench, our feet pressed against each other’s. “I think the two of you would be freakishly adorable together.”
My neck grew warm again. Of everything I had to inherit from my father, this insta-blush thing was the worst.
I pressed my neck back until it touched the cool wood of the bench, and replied, “You said the same thing about Jon.”
“Jon was an experiment. Unless you like him, which I doubt, because you’re not out there trying to keep him from the harem bunny.” She kicked the side of my foot. “Just give Dev a chance. This girl,” she sat up and pointed at herself with a flourish, “is never wrong when it comes to guys. I’m like the Oracle of Delphi of relationships.”
“You’re just trying to yenta us together.” Maybe that conversation by the cupcakes was Em trying to do the same thing to Dev about me, which made me want to crawl into one of the lockers and hide.
An amused tone came into her voice. “No, I swear, he’s been following you like a puppy dog.” Em shrugged. “For some reason I can’t totally understand, weirdly dressed book nerds must be a major turn-on for him.”
I threw one of my arms over my face, partly to be dramatic, partly to hide my blush. “Oh my God. You are so making all this up.”
“Am not.” She stood and pulled my arm off of my face so I had to look directly at her. “So? What do you say about dating our Bollywood Casanova?” She faked a swoon.
I swatted at her but she jumped away, laughing. “Stop that.”
“He’s just so dashing and debonair, I can’t help but be equally dramatic when I’m talking about him,” she said with a flourish, then forced me up to sitting. “Here’s the thing. I think you need to give him a chance. “
“I’ve never not given him a chance. He doesn’t think of me like that and I don’t think of him that way. Because we’re just friends, Em. And not even sitting at the same lunch table kind of friends. We’re more like ‘snarking about Ms. Osoba making us sit out in forty degree weather for pep band’ kind of friends.”
“Sitting at the same lunch table regularly will be a good start. I’ll get on that Monday.”
“Em, don’t,” I pleaded. Now that Em had me and Dev on her matchmaker radar, I couldn’t even imagine how I’d even be around him without turning as red as the lining of his clarinet case.
She shook her pirate sword at me. “We’re going out there right now, you’re going to look cute and be nice to him, got it?”
“I’d rather stay in here and finish my book.” As soon as the words came out of my mouth, though, I cowed to her unblinking stare and stood. “Tell me why I listen to you?” I checked my reflection in one of the long mirrors on the pillar behind me. The sparkly face powder did a pretty good job of hiding the red in my face.
“Because I’m doing what’s best for you.” She smoothed down a layer of chiffon in the back of my dress and started pushing me out the door. “Now, smile.”
5
I pulled the heavy comforter over my head. Snaking my hand out from my cocoon, I felt around on the nightstand for my glasses. A hard corner dug into my back and, as soon as I slipped on the glasses, I reached under myself to free Glittering. My fingers ran down the still-straight spine and unbent cover and I breathed a sigh of relief. I had to stop falling asleep on books. Glasses-to-nightstand became automatic after I had broken my last pair by sleeping in them. Waking up to a bent frame pressing against my nose was enough to train me out of that habit. But somehow, I always ended up sprawled over the latest hardcover.
I didn’t bother looking for my book light. If I started reading now, I’d never get out of bed. Late night or not, I had to get ready for work teaching the Brunch n’ Beginners learn-to-knit class at Oh, Knit! The money was good and I got to be surrounded by tons of yarn and books while sipping bottomless lattes.
I rolled out of bed, grabbing the first pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt that crossed my path. Catching a glimpse of myself in my vanity mirror, I cringed. I had fallen asleep with wet hair and now half of it was curly, the other half stick straight and practically standing on end. And still a bright shade of red, despite all the scrubbing I gave it last night after the dance.
I stayed in the bathroom just long enough to decide that I really didn’t need to put in contacts today and gave the tub a wide berth on my way out. I didn’t want to look. The last I checked, the tub was still dyed an insane shade of pinky orange from my hair dye. My blue towel was still draped over the side, too, now stained with brown blotches.
After trying a few times to tame the mess on my head, I just threw my hair into a claw clip, slipped my ‘The book was better’ t-shirt over my top, grabbed my knitting bag, and headed out. It didn’t matter. Only knitters were going to see me, anyway.
Oh, Knit! was only fifteen minutes from my neighborhood, and usually, I loved the walk this time of year through the piles of leaves in the early morning autumn chill. Today, though, I dragged myself there, barely noticing anything around me until a familiar tug on my messy bun made me jump.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” Dev’s voice came over my shoulder.
I stopped midstep and tried not to seem too thrown off as Dev and Alec came up alongside me. “It’s okay. Now I won’t need coffee since you just gave me a heart attack.”
Alec hadn’t gone to the dance, so I could understand how he managed to look semihuman that early on a Sunday, but Dev? Even with slicked back wet hair and grungy clothes, he was too awake and too pulled together for someone who had probably been up later than me. Before I could stop myself, I c
hecked my reflection in a passing shop window. Yup. Still looked like a human version of yarn barf. Embarrassment tickled up my neck and I was thankful for the chill that had already colored my cheeks and was keeping my face from getting too hot.
“Nice shirt.”
I glared at Alec for calling attention to how utterly ridiculous I looked. He didn’t seem to notice.
“Going to work at the bluehair store again?”
Pull yourself together. Maeve would just straighten herself up and keep walking as if she were wearing a designer gown instead of a goofy t-shirt.
As I pulled my back ramrod straight and tilted up my chin, I answered in my best Maeve-y tone, “You realize that a ton of young A-list celebrities knit, right?”
“And grandmoms.” Alec kicked a rock off the sidewalk and it clattered into the mostly deserted street. “Besides, it’s not like you care about what celebrities do.”
“I care about them if they knit.” I pulled my circular needles out of my bag and pointed them fencer-like at Alec. The metal needles were gorgeous and a little dangerous in the faint sunlight. “And I have a great way to defend myself when weird guys jump me in the dangerous streets of Lambertfield,” I added with a flourish of the needles.
Dev, who had been watching us like a ping-pong game, broke into the conversation. “Hey, does that mean you can make me a sweater?”
Still on my silly dramatic high, I gave my needles one last twirl and started slipping them into my bag as if I were putting them into one of those sword-holster things. “You have to be knitworthy to get stuff from me, maybe something small, like socks. And you, my friend, aren’t knitworthy yet.” We shared a grin and I wiggled my needles at him teasingly.
“So, what do I need to do to become ‘knitworthy?’”
“I’ll…I’ll let you know.” Suddenly, what Em told me at the dance popped into my head and the air became incredibly heavy—uncomfortable, like a shrunken and felted wool sweater. I was going to strangle her for sticking ideas into my head and making things so awkward around him. I wracked my brain for some change in the subject. “So, where are you two going? The diner?”
Bookishly Ever After Page 3