“I can give you a ride if you like,” Zac said.
“Ooh! Are you asking her to the formal with you?”
“Shut up, Sona!” I could feel my cheeks heating, the traitors. If only I had skin like Sona’s it wouldn’t be so horrendously obvious every time I blushed. “He didn’t mean it like that.”
He was sitting on the desk top next to me, feet on a chair. I could smell his deodorant, something pine-scented and manly. Or maybe it was aftershave. His cheeks were a little pink too.
“Look at you two—you’re blushing! That’s so cute.” Sona looked from one to the other of us, grinning, and started to sing. “Zac and Viiii, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”
I turned my back on her, aware that my face was blazing red, trying to act as if this wasn’t the most awkward thing that had happened to me since frogs started falling out of my mouth—which is harder than you’d think when your face is lit up like Rudolph’s nose on Christmas Eve.
“Ignore the madwoman in the corner,” I said to Zac. He smiled and the dimple peeped out. For some reason that made me flush even redder. Bloody Sona. “I’d love a lift.”
“Okay. I’ll pick you up around quarter to seven.”
He didn’t say that he had meant it like that—but then he didn’t say he hadn’t, either. Thank God the bell rang then, because I didn’t know where to look and I could cheerfully have throttled Sona, who was still humming that stupid song. We all funneled out into the courtyard amid the usual roar of voices and noisy feet on the stairs.
Mr Ormond and Miss Moore came out of the English staffroom and saw us. Mr Ormond called CJ over so I hung around, wondering what he wanted.
“Crystal! I have a job for you.”
CJ smiled politely. “What’s that, sir?”
“It’s customary for a Year 11 student to make a toast to the outgoing prefect body at the formal. Miss Moore suggested it might be nice this year to have one of our newest students make the toast to our oldest.”
Miss Moore smiled as if she’d done CJ a great favour. Today she wore a red silk top and tailored black pants. The heels were as impressive as Sona had said—towering strappy things with a touch of bling.
“Vi’s a good public speaker.”
Nice one, CJ. Trying to drop me in it. I melted back behind a pillar, but Mr Ormond didn’t even look my way.
“I’m sure you’ll do a great job. We only want something short. Besides, I hear you have a special connection with a certain member of the prefect body.”
He gave her an arch smile, and I nearly gagged. If even Mr Ormond had heard about CJ and the caveman, the whole school must know.
“Glad he didn’t ask me,” Sona said as she dragged me up the stairs. “I hate public speaking.”
I grinned. “So does CJ.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I came out of my bedroom and nearly choked on the clouds of hairspray and perfume coming from CJ’s.
“What are you doing in there? Should I call for toxic waste disposal?”
“Bite me.”
She was leaning in close to the mirror, making that weird stretchy face that women everywhere do when they put on mascara. Her long black hair rippled down her back in mega curls, but she made it look hot instead of cutesy. It had a tousled kind of I’ve just got out of the sack in my skimpy nightwear vibe, an impression that the smoky eye shadow only added to. Her dress was a simple strapless cream sheath that made her tanned skin glow golden. She looked fantastic.
“Nice dress.”
“Thanks.” She finished with the mascara and turned to check me out. “You look good too. Is that Sona’s dress?”
“Yeah.”
She assessed me with a critical sisterly eye. “The colour’s good on you. Pity it wasn’t strapless.”
I rolled my eyes. Why did everyone go on about the straps? “Well, we don’t all have your assets to hold our dresses up.”
She grinned and adjusted those assets in the mirror, letting even more cleavage show. Josh was going to have a heart attack when he saw her. Outside a car pulled up and I peeked out the window.
“It’s okay. It was someone next door.”
“You’re not still worried about Kyle, are you? Relax. He’s not coming back.”
Poor Kyle. He’d received a phone call half an hour ago from Warder Winters giving him the rest of the night off. She’d said she was on the way home and there was no need for him to stay with the girls any longer.
Only of course it wasn’t Warder Winters at all, but CJ doing her Mum impression. He hadn’t suspected a thing, and two minutes later we had the house to ourselves and were racing upstairs to get ready. I was torn between guilt and excitement, though for now the excitement was winning. Zac would be here soon, and I was wearing that gorgeous green dress.
“I hope he doesn’t get into trouble. What if Mum really does ring him? Or if he mentions something about having the night off to someone tomorrow?”
CJ snorted. Tomorrow was a problem for Future CJ. Present CJ rarely let consequences get in the way of a good time.
“What if you stopped worrying about things that might never happen and just focused on enjoying yourself?”
Before I could think of a smart answer the doorbell rang and she pushed past me. I heard Josh’s voice then the slam of the front door as she yelled goodbye. I eased a finger under my collar as I followed her downstairs more slowly. CJ had partially camoufluaged hers with a chunky gold necklace, but I hadn’t bothered trying. It was so in-your-face there was no real way to disguise it. I was grateful for its powers, but tonight more than ever I wished it was just a teensy bit more attractive. And maybe had slightly fewer pointy bits.
In a few moments the doorbell rang again. I checked the clock: 6:45 exactly. Zac was right on time.
“Hi!” My heart did a little flip at the sight of him. It was like my perfect man had stepped out of my dreams and landed on my doorstop. “Wow, you look … different.”
In a suit he looked about five years older and ten times hotter. I could hardly believe the transformation. He’d even gelled his hair so it didn’t flop into his face the way it usually did.
“Different in a good way, I hope. You look amazing, by the way.”
“Thanks.” I did a little twirl to show him the whole effect. “You like the dress? Sona gave it to me.”
“It’s beautiful. You look really pretty.” He bowed and offered his arm. “May I escort madam to her chariot?”
I smiled up at him, dazzled by that sweet dimpled smile and the admiration in his eyes. I laid my hand on his arm and we paraded down the path like royalty. He was taller than me—hell, everyone was taller than me—but in high heels the difference wasn’t too ridiculous, and I felt very grown-up and glamorous. My heart danced a quick little cha-cha inside my chest.
He held the car door open for me, then came around and got behind the wheel.
“Not that I’m not grateful for the ride, but the chariot seems to have shrunk since last time.” He was driving a little red Mazda, not the big sedan he’d driven us home from the party in.
“Yeah, this is Mum’s car. Mum and Dad are using the Commodore tonight.” He smiled across at me as he pulled out from the kerb. “It gets tricky sometimes, with three of us driving and two cars. I’m saving up for my own—hopefully I’ll have enough to get something early next year.”
“Cool. What do you do for a job?”
“I teach guitar. It pays a hell of a lot better than working at Maccas, and I can more or less set my own hours.”
“I didn’t know you played guitar! You must be pretty good if you’re teaching it.”
“I’m not too bad. I’ve been playing since I was a kid. Most of my students are beginners, though, so it’s not all that challenging.”
“Electric guitar or classical?”
“Classical mainly. I play electric sometimes, but I prefer classical.”
“Wow. I never would have picked you for the musical type. You don’
t even do music as a subject, do you?”
“Nah. I get enough of it outside of school.” He grinned. “I guess there’s lots of things you don’t know about me.”
“Okay,” I said, taking that as a challenge, “what’s your favourite food?”
“Aaah … nachos? I don’t know. My mum’s corned beef pie? I can’t pick just one. What’s yours?”
“Chocolate.”
“Oh, I thought we were talking real food, not junk.”
“Chocolate’s a real food. It’s one of the five essential food groups.”
He laughed. “They must do things differently in Townsville.”
I loved that I could make him laugh. It was kind of cozy, just the two of us in the car. “What about sports? What do you like?”
“To watch or play?”
“Play.”
“Well, I used to like basketball, but they only take the really tall guys for the team these days. Cricket’s all right, but baseball’s better.”
“What about winter sports? Soccer or footie?”
He pulled a face. “I’m crap at both. All right, my turn. What’s your favourite book?”
“Oh, that’s a hard one. Maybe The Lord of the Rings?”
“Seriously? I tried to read that but I couldn’t stand all the poetry. The movies were better.”
“Well, they did have Viggo Mortenson. And no Tom Bombadil. Do you read much fantasy?”
“Sometimes. I’m more of a science fiction guy. Space battles and alien planets and stuff.”
The little Mazda turned in at the gates of a reception centre that looked more like a small castle.
“Oh, wow, this is beautiful.”
“I know. Can you believe this used to be someone’s home?”
I shook my head. “It’d be nice to be rich, huh?”
“Maybe some day I’ll know. I’ll have to invent something that makes me millions.”
“Good plan. Keep working on the demented chicken.”
He found a spot and parked the car. We’d talked all the way here, about all sorts of trivial things, but never mentioned the one thing everyone else in the world was discussing. Magic. He didn’t even ask about the infamous video. He had a way of focusing on what I was saying that made me feel as if I was the most interesting person he’d ever met, unlike most guys, who listened as if they were waiting for you to stop talking so they could talk about themselves. Cough, cough, Josh Johnson. I felt absurdly grateful for the chance to laugh and chat and act as if everything was normal, as if my life hadn’t been overtaken by magic and weirdness.
I could easily fall in love with a guy like that.
He came around and opened my door, still playing the gentleman. I got out, smoothing the emerald folds of my dress, and admired the building and its lovely gardens. Even from the carpark, at the back, it was impressive. People in formal dress were chatting on a large terrace, and music wafted across the carpark. It sounded like Vivaldi. Pretty upmarket for a school formal. Hopefully there’d be dance music later.
We crunched together across the gravel and around to the front of the building, where a long white limousine was sweeping in around the circular driveway. More partygoers arriving in style.
“What’s your favourite colour?” I asked, watching girls in all the colours of the rainbow spilling from the car.
“Normally I’d say red.” He looked down at me, something serious in his eyes. “But tonight … it’s green.”
My heart started to race.
“Very smooth!” I joked, to cover my sudden nerves. “I like your style. Dance with me later?”
He laughed, and the moment passed. “I thought you knew about my dancing.”
“I’m prepared to take the risk. Maybe I could ask the DJ to play YMCA.”
“You are never going to let me forget that, are you?”
Laughing, I grabbed his hand and pulled him inside, suddenly reckless. He seemed happy to let himself be tugged through the bright chattering swirl of people in the foyer. A grand staircase swept up to the first floor, and a photographer was using it as his backdrop for group photos. A giggling group of Year 12 girls were arrayed on the stairs, hugging each other and posing for the camera. Other students milled about, waiting for their turn. Through the archway at the back I could see the terrace, where others were enjoying pre-dinner drinks, presumably non-alcoholic.
Sona appeared in the archway as we wove our way through the press of people.
“Vi! Zac!” She waved madly and shoved her way through the crowd to us. “Let’s get our photo taken.”
I gave her a quick hug. “Love the dress!”
“Thanks.”
She looked gorgeous, in a gold dress with the most beautiful beaded bodice. The colour was perfect against her dark skin, and her hair was piled high in an elaborate braided style. She looked impossibly exotic.
“You scrubbed up all right, too,” she said to Zac, who laughed. “It’s not fair. Boys have it so easy—all they have to do to look great is put on a tux. We have to stuff around for hours with hair and makeup and shopping for the right dress …”
“Oh, you poor thing. I bet you hated every minute of it, didn’t you?”
She grinned. “Maybe not every minute.”
We worked our way toward the front of the queue, but it took a while. On the staircase now CJ posed on Josh’s lap for one shot, then all Josh’s friends piled in around them, filling the width of the grand staircase.
“I see you won the bet,” Sona said.
“What?”
“The bet with CJ. She’s not wearing that hideous thing around her neck any more.”
What? I’d been so focused on the warmth of Zac’s hand still in mine, the nervous happiness fizzing away inside me, that I hadn’t even noticed CJ wasn’t wearing her collar. What the hell was she doing?
I started pushing my way to the front of the line.
There was lots of laughter and good-natured teasing among the group posing on the stairs. CJ was grinning, but at least she had the sense to keep quiet. Where was her collar? It must be in her handbag; I couldn’t even see it.
I hovered helplessly at the foot of the stairs, just out of the shot, and tried to get her attention. But of course she was completely focused on Josh, still perched on his lap like a queen on her throne.
Next thing Josh started tickling her. Oh, God, no. I darted forward, but it was too late. She giggled, then the giggles turned into a full-on laughing fit, and diamonds started spraying everywhere. A roar went up as if the home team had just scored the winning try at a football game, and the photo shoot devolved into chaos. People surged forward, jostling for diamonds. Girls fell to their knees, squealing, searching the carpeted steps. One boy tried snatching them out of the air as they fell. I was afraid CJ was going to be mobbed.
“Free diamonds!” Josh roared over the noise. “Come and get your free diamonds.”
Someone bumped the tripod and the photographer just caught his camera in time. I snatched at CJ’s arm, trying to drag her away, and she stumbled and nearly knocked me down the stairs.
That was when I got a good whiff of her breath and realised she’d been drinking. Already? They must have hit it hard in the limo on the way here.
“What the hell are you doing?” I yelled over the uproar. “Where’s your collar? For God’s sake, put it on. If you get your face plastered all over the internet again, Mum and Dad will go apeshit.”
“What difference does it make, Vi?” Her face was flushed with alcohol and bravado. “The secret’s out, the whole world already knows. Magic is real! Once a guy turns into an ogre in a public place, there’s no hiding it any more. Why go on pretending?”
“Because that’s what Mum and Dad want, and they know more about this shit than we do.”
I was horribly conscious of phones being raised, of the photographer still shooting behind us. Mum and Dad were going to kill us.
“I don’t care. It’s not as if diamonds are ugly.”
But frogs were. She didn’t have to say it; I knew exactly what she meant. Why shouldn’t she flaunt her diamonds? She was special; she always had been. The centre of attention was exactly where she was meant to be.
Maybe Mum and Dad wouldn’t get a chance. I was going to kill her myself.
“Chillax, Vi.” Josh emerged from the crowd and draped a proprietary arm around CJ’s bare shoulders. He had a fistful of diamonds and the world’s most infuriating smirk on his stupid face. “It’s no biggie. It’s not like you took your collar off.”
Oh, my God. Killing was too good for her. “You told him?”
She shrugged, then pulled her collar out of her bag and clipped it back on. “Whatever. I just wanted a nice photo. Is that such a crime?”
I turned my back on her. It was either that or punch her in the face. Zac and Sona stood at the bottom of the stairs, staring at us in shock. Oh, damn. How was I going to explain this?
Mr Ormond came in from the terrace to see what the noise was.
“Ladies and gentlemen! A little quiet please!”
Gradually he managed to restore order. I walked the last few steps down to my friends. Damn CJ. I’d been having such a nice time, and now she’d gone and turned us into a freak show again. The photographer set his tripod up again, and I noticed his lens was pointing our way. I bet some of his photos weren’t going to be in the official snaps. He was probably already planning how to spend the money some gossip column would pay him for shots of the mad scramble for diamonds.
Mr Ormond shooed CJ and her group toward the terrace. “Please remember this is a formal, not a wrestling match.”
“You’d better keep quiet, Frogface,” Ashleigh said as she went past. “We don’t want any of those nasty things jumping around here.”
“Ribbit,” said the boy with her, and they both cracked up.
Sona glared at them. “Idiots.”
“You want to tell us what that was all about?” Zac asked, his dark eyes wide.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Sona turned back to us with a brave attempt at her usual grin back in place. “I was right, wasn’t I? Magic is real.”
“Sona …” All at once I felt exhausted. I was sick of lying and pretending. Why was I even bothering, with CJ putting on displays like that? It wasn’t as if I could singlehandedly convince the world magic didn’t exist when all around me the evidence was piling up.
The Fairytale Curse (Magic's Return Book 1) Page 17