“I bet we could do it. No way the chaperones are chilling by the punch bowl all night,” says Felix. His hazel eyes are alight with mischief.
“I get what you’re saying,” says the guy I don’t know. He wears a black leather jacket over the white tee-shirt stretched across his chest. His hair swoops down into his eyes and curls slightly at the back of his neck. Everything about him projects a bad-boy image and I wonder why he’s talking with West, who is much more slacker than bad-boy. “I just think if we’ve got it, why waste it? So a couple people complain that the punch tastes funny?”
“Parts per million, my friend,” Felix says. “If we’ve got enough, it’ll only take a few sips.”
“And if we don’t have enough, it’s all a waste,” says West, running a hand through his blond hair, causing the front to stick up more than usual. “I think we need an outside opinion.”
West turns his deep-set eyes on me. I struggle to swallow the food in my mouth as the other two guys look my way. The guy in the leather jacket smirks.
“So, here’s the conundrum, Krissa,” West says, ignoring the fact that I’m chewing like a madwoman. “Let’s see if you can help us. Rumor is Mrs. Cole will not be in attendance at tonight’s festivities, so we’re trying to make the most of her absence. Tucker is pretty sure he can get his hands on some vodka, and the question is whether we should spike the punchbowl and spread the love or keep it all to ourselves. Felix wants to spread the love, but Tucker’s against it. I’m undecided.”
“Um.” I bite my lower lip, considering the options. Having spent more than my fair share of time in trouble with the powers that be, going out of the way to break a rule seems foolish to me. However, I know these guys won’t share that opinion. “Maybe keep it to yourselves?”
Tucker snaps his fingers and points at me, a smile spreading across his face. “Finally, someone with some sense.” He looks at Felix. “The fewer people who get some, the more for each one. Supply and demand.” He stands and begins backing up. “Later.”
Lexie and Owen arrive at the table, but Owen doesn’t immediately sit. His eyes follow Tucker’s progress through the cafeteria for several beats before he settles in his usual spot.
A dull thrum of energy courses through me. Owen doesn’t like when Tucker hangs around West and Felix. Felix is far too easily led astray, and astray is Tucker’s perpetual direction.
I shake my head, dispelling Owen’s thoughts from my mind. Having these flashes is nothing new—it’s been happening for just about as long as I can remember. But usually, they only occur when I’m highly emotional—upset or scared. I’m not sure what it is about Owen, but I don’t seem to need the emotional trigger with him.
“What does Tucker want?” Owen asks, dipping a couple of fries in ketchup.
“Give him a break,” West says easily. “We’re just making plans for the dance.”
“He can’t come with us,” Lexie says. “Bria’s car is full. He’ll have to hitch a ride with you and the hussy you’re bringing.”
West holds a finger up. “One, you say ‘hussy’ like it’s a bad thing.” He puts up a second finger. “Two, he doesn’t need a ride to the dance.”
“Three,” Felix says, leaning across the table toward Lexie, “I’m hitching a ride with Tucker, so you guys don’t need to pick me up.”
He makes a move to stand up, but Owen catches his arm. “Just… don’t do anything stupid, alright?”
Felix snorts. “Come on. You know me.”
Owen nods. “Yeah, I do. Don’t do anything stupid.”
Chapter Sixteen
Jodi lets me have the afternoon off work to prepare for the dance, but I have no idea what to do with the time. Lexie and Bria announced at lunch that the three of us would be getting ready at my place, but they didn’t plan to come over until five. That gives me two solid hours to fill from the time Owen drops me off.
I head up to my room. Even though Jodi is doing everything she can to make me feel like this house is my home, my room is the only place I feel is really mine. I lie on my bed and pull the ring from under my shirt. Maybe that’s why I like this room more than any other: I feel connected to my dad here. I’ve spent countless hours over the last five years wondering where he could be and why he might have left. Somehow, being here in the room that used to be his makes me feel the closest to him I’ve felt since he’s been gone.
Letting the ring slide onto my index finger, I close my eyes, my head sinking into my pillow. I haven’t had a flash from putting on the ring since the first time, but I like the feeling of the ring on my hand. It’s too large for any of my fingers or I would just wear it, despite the fact that it’s gigantic and clearly meant for a man.
Sleep overtakes me so gently, I barely notice. Images float through my mind from the day: Lexie’s smiling face, the way Owen’s hair spikes up in the front. Fox’s gray eyes and the feeling of his chest under my palm. Crystal Jamison’s face as she approached me in history class.
Crystal’s face floats before me. Not her body—just her face. Her lips move, but I can’t make out what she’s saying. I move toward her. She’s telling me something important and I need to hear it. Thick white fog surrounds me and I can’t see more than a few feet ahead. Crystal is moving away from me and I run toward her. If only I could hear her words…
Crystal disappears and my pace increases to a sprint. Suddenly, the fog dissipates and I find myself standing on the edge of a river. There’s something familiar about it and after a moment I realize what: This is the river that runs through town. I peer along the banks of the river but there’s no sign of Crystal. I turn around and see a dense patch of woods. Movement flickers along the tree line and I head for it.
I hear voices as I near the woods, but the words are garbled and indistinct, like they’re coming through a wall. I edge around a thick tree trunk and see Crystal standing in a clearing, talking to a man whose back is to me. He’s tall and broad-shouldered, with brown hair that dangles just past his shoulders. I don’t recognize him, but he seems familiar. I strain my ears to understand what they’re saying, but the words are still unclear.
I take a step forward and my foot comes down on a twig, snapping it. The sound echoes like a gunshot through the clearing and Crystal’s eyes widen in horror as the man she’s talking to turns to face me. But I don’t see his face, all I see are his green eyes—
A thunderous pounding draws my attention and I turn. My body lurches and my feet collide with something solid.
The floor. My bedroom floor. I’m in my room, on my bed—well, half on. I push my hands into the mattress, pressing myself to standing, just as Lexie and Bria appear at the top of my stairs. They raise their eyebrows at me before exchanging glances with each other.
“Did we catch you in the middle of afternoon prayer time?” Bria asks, crossing to my bed and heaving a tan canvas shopping bag onto it.
I shake my head. “No, I just…”
“Holy bedroom, Batman!” Lexie lets out a low whistle as she surveys the space.
I force a smile, somewhat embarrassed by the awe in her voice. “I know—it’s big, right? Why don’t we get set up in the bathroom?” I point to the far corner of the room.
“Holy crap—you’ve got a bathroom up here?” Bria asks.
“Dibs!” Lexie yells, taking off at a run.
Bria shrieks and starts after her. “Is that a freaking couch?”
Their lighthearted banter cuts through the shadowy remnants of my dream. By the time I reach the bathroom, Lexie and Bria are jockeying for the spot in front of the mirror, giggling. My heart swells. I’m so thankful to have these girls as friends.
“Fine, Bria, you take the mirror first,” Lexie says, exiting the bathroom. “I’m gonna put my dress on first anyway, otherwise I’ll just mess up my hair later.”
“There’s another bathroom downstairs. I’m sure Jodi won’t mind if you use it to change.”
Lexie picks up her garment bag and salutes me. “Lead
the way.”
We walk to the second floor and I point out Jodi’s bathroom. Lexie directs me to wait outside the door to help her with the zipper.
When she emerges, I gasp. She bought her dress weeks ago, and this is the first time I’ve seen it. The deep emerald color complements her red hair and coloring perfectly. The bodice is fitted and the skirt billows out from her waist, aided by crinoline underneath. The whole thing has a vintage feel that suits Lexie.
“Do you like it?” she asks, spinning.
“It’s perfect.” I beckon her toward me so I can pull up the zipper before the two of us head back upstairs.
Lexie digs into one of the bags she brought and pulls out two curling irons and a hair appliance I’ve never seen before, along with three bottles of styling product. “Okay, I need to start on my hair.”
I point at the long, low dresser behind her. The mirror above it, coupled with the fact that I have nothing on top of the dresser, makes it the perfect place for all her tools. She nods a thank you before setting up shop.
After checking to make sure Bria doesn’t need anything, I grab my dress and head down to Jodi’s bathroom to put it on.
It takes a bit of work, but I’m able to zip the back up myself. I stand in front of the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door and finger the beaded bodice. The pattern of black, white, and blue beads seems to twist and swell like water. The gentle sprinkling of sequins on the gauzy skirt catches the light as I twist from side to side. Before moving here, I would never have imagined myself wearing a dress like this, but now it seems like it was made for me.
The only thing that doesn’t fit the look is the ring around my neck. I hesitate before taking it off, wishing there were a way to incorporate it into the ensemble. Since I found it, I’ve only taken the ring off while I shower. Somehow, not having it on makes me feel naked and vulnerable.
I shake off the feeling and look at myself in the mirror again. My long, blond hair hangs loosely around my shoulders and I wonder if I’ll be able to pull it up somehow. I spend a few minutes pulling it back and posing in the mirror. I can’t help smiling as I make my way back up to my room, wondering what Owen will think of me in this dress.
After Lexie finishes with her hair, she insists on doing mine. I protest, but she won’t hear it. When she’s finished, I’m glad she didn’t let me talk her out of it. My usually pin-straight hair falls in soft spirals around my face, the blond color somehow accentuated by the shape.
Bria takes a turn next, applying my makeup. I watch her the whole time, taking in the dark eyeliner and cat-eye makeup, the ultra-red tint of her lips. My stomach knots when I think of what she’ll do to my face. It’s not that her makeup looks bad on her—quite the contrary. The heavy hand she used to apply her makeup is the perfect complement to her gauzy black dress. But that look will not work for me.
When Bria finally allows me to look in the mirror, I’m amazed. My makeup looks nothing like hers: It looks the way I might do it myself, if I had any idea how. The eyeshadow she used is silvery and there’s a light blush on my cheeks. My lips are their regular color only intensified, shinier. I stand in front of the full-length mirror on my bathroom door and swish back and forth in my dress.
“This is... amazing.” I turn to Lexie and Bria. “Thanks.”
Lexie snorts. “Don’t get sappy. If you get sappy, you’ll start crying, and then Bria will cry, and then I’ll feel too guilty not to cry, and we’ll all mess up our makeup.”
I laugh and nod. “Okay, no sappiness,” I promise.
Bria checks the time on her phone. “Okay, Owen said he’d be here at seven, and it’s almost seven. We should head down.”
The three of us carry our heels when we walk down the stairs and pause in the living room to put them on. Jodi emerges from the sitting room with a camera, her face alight.
“You three look so beautiful! Here, squish together in front of the stairs. Let me get a picture.”
Lexie rolls her eyes good-naturedly as the three of us pose. Jodi snaps five pictures before she’s satisfied.
Bria checks the time again and shakes her head. “I knew we should’ve just picked him up. That boy is always late.”
Jodi motions for me to follow her into the living room. She picks up a small box on the coffee table and hands it to me.
“What is it?”
“Open it, silly.”
My fingers tremble as I untie the ribbon around the box and pull off the top. Sitting atop a bed of cotton fluff is a large bracelet with circular beads in black and blue.
“It’s an anklet,” Jodi says, picking it up and unclasping it. “Would you wear it?”
“Sure,” I say quickly. “I mean, of course. It’s really pretty.”
She smiles and kneels in front of me, affixing the piece around my ankle. “It’s more than pretty.”
She doesn’t elaborate, but it looks suspiciously like some of the jewelry at her shop. I wonder if these particular stones serve a special purpose. I open my mouth to ask her about it when a knock sounds at the front door.
“I think your boyfriend’s here.”
I bite my lower lip, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. I look toward where Lexie and Bria stand but neither of them gives any indication of having heard her. “He’s not my boyfriend, Jodi,” I say under my breath.
Lexie squeals and opens the door to reveal Owen. My breath catches in my throat as he steps into the house. He wears black dress pants that fit him well and a blue button-down shirt that amplifies the color of his eyes. A jacket is slung casually over his shoulder. He accepts a hug from Lexie and instructs Bria to spin to show off her costume. When his gaze lands on me, his eyes widen and a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. My stomach flutters.
Jodi touches her hand to my shoulder and leans close to my ear. “Yeah, I believe that.”
I turn to her to protest but she’s already corralling us toward the stairs for another round of pictures before she lets us be on our way. Before I step over the threshold, she pulls me into a hug. “Have fun tonight. You deserve it.”
I smile. “Thanks, Jodi.”
Chapter Seventeen
While Bria and Lexie sing along with the radio and bounce in the front seats of Bria’s mom’s car, I sneak glances at Owen out the corner of my eye. He and I are sitting in the back. Once or twice I notice he’s doing the same thing. My stomach flips and I bite my lower lip each time our eyes meet.
Bria finds a parking space in the school lot and the four of us walk toward the door. There are a few other groups heading in at the same time. As soon as we enter the school, I can hear the music echoing through the hallway. I resist the urge to giggle, but I’m not quite able to suppress my desire to bounce, and Owen casts a sidelong glance at me.
“Excited?”
I grin. “Can you tell?”
He shrugs. “Maybe just a little.”
I press my lips together but can’t quite hide my smile. “Aren’t you excited?”
“Me?” He reaches out his arms, sliding one around my waist and the other along Lexie’s and Bria’s backs. “I’m here with the three prettiest girls at Clearwater High. Of course I’m excited.”
Lexie elbows him in the chest. “Women,” she corrects.
Bria nudges Lexie with her shoulder. “Take a compliment, will you?”
We approach a long table set up just outside the commons and Owen, who is the only one of us with pockets, pulls out our tickets. When the group ahead of us steps away from the table, I’m shocked to see Mrs. Cole sitting there.
“Are you feeling better?” I ask as Owen hands over our tickets. When she reaches out to take them, I see a dark patch on her palm, like a smear of strawberry jam. Could it be some kind of birthmark? Whatever it is, I’ve never noticed it before.
She smiles at me, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. She looks tired. “I’m well enough to collect tickets.”
Lexie tugs at my arm and I allow myself to be led into t
he commons. The main lighting is off, and there are streaks of colored light spilling into the far end of the commons from the cafeteria. There are a few groups of people lingering in the area, but no one is dancing. Part of me deflates. This isn’t what I was expecting at all.
Bria moves to the head of our group and leads us into the cafeteria proper, and my chest swells again: This is more like it. At the far end of the room, the DJ is set up, and in front of him is a mob of dancers. Refreshments—cookies and punch—are set out where lunch is usually served, and there are a couple dozen small tables with chairs set up around that area. The energy of the room is infectious and my smile returns, my concern for Mrs. Cole forgotten.
Owen points at us. “Punch?”
Lexie and Bria shake their heads but I nod, and Owen heads off toward the refreshments. I watch him go as Lexie and Bria start discussing the attire of the people in attendance. Owen is almost to the front of the punch line when Lexie sighs.
“Incoming.”
I don’t have to turn to know who Lexie is talking about: The look on her face gives me all the information I need. I steel myself, hoping Crystal will pass by without engaging me in conversation. I feel a tap on my shoulder and stifle a groan as I turn to face her.
“Can I help you?” I try to keep my voice and expression impassive.
To my surprise, Crystal’s mouth curves in a genuine smile. Lexie raises an eyebrow at me. “I just wanted to tell you your dress is a great color. It looks really good on you.”
I cross my arms over my chest, suddenly self-conscious. I suppress the urge to look above my head for a bucket of pig’s blood. “Thanks.”
She’s still smiling broadly and I’m almost convinced she means it. Her mouth twitches like she wants to say something more, but before she does, her eyes flash downward. “Well, have a great night. I’ll see you later, okay?”
Crystal Magic (Clearwater Witches Book 1) Page 11