“Laryngitis,” Gray said, pointing to her throat.
Nolan chuckled. “Okay, see you in French.” He pressed his hand between her shoulder blades before walking away.
Gray’s mouth opened slightly then abruptly closed when she noticed Thea glaring in her direction. If only she could go over to her friend and assure her that no, Charlene wasn’t moving in on Gray’s old crush. She tried to convey this message with her eyes, but it was no use.
Suddenly Gray was bumped from the side. For such a petite girl, Brittany had a lot of force behind her. Gray rubbed her shoulder.
“So what’s the deal with Nolan Knapp?” Brittany demanded. “Have you slept with him?”
Gray lifted her nose. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” She wasn’t snooty by nature, but somehow it came naturally to her when she was around Brittany. Maybe Charlene wouldn’t be as intolerable if she kept better company.
Brittany smirked. “I guess he’s cute—in a boyish sorta way.”
“He got kicked out of his last school for sleeping with a teacher.”
Brittany’s eyes nearly popped out of her face. “Shut up!”
“Swear.”
Brittany grinned wickedly. “Hello, Nolan. You know he has to be all kinds of naughty between the sheets having gotten instruction by an older woman.”
“Maybe.”
“Oh, totally. If you don’t do him I will.”
“Sorry, Brit. Nolan’s off limits.”
“What? So you think you can have all the hotties to yourself?”
Gray tried the chin lift again. “That’s right.”
“Bitch.”
“Super bitch.”
Brittany’s mouth opened wide on a gasp and then she smiled. “Mega bitch!”
“Super, gigantic, mega bitch.”
Both girls were laughing at this point. Gray stopped abruptly when she saw Raj watching her across the hall. “I’ll see you later. I have business with a certain annoying boy who’s so not on my hook-up list.”
Brittany followed Gray’s gaze. “McKenna?” Gray was surprised when her voice didn’t convey disgust. “I’d do him.”
Gray gnashed her teeth together and forced a smile that felt more like a grimace. She couldn’t very well tell Brittany that Raj McKenna was off limits, as well. Way off limits.
Chapter Seventeen
“Making new friends?” Raj asked when Gray crossed the hall to his side.
Gray really did grimace this time. “Hardly. Maintaining Charlene’s façade is all.”
“Uh-huh.”
“What?”
“Looked like you were having a good time playing the role.”
“Don’t be a jackass. I’m just good at hiding my inner cringe. Anyway, I bet you’d think a lot better of Brittany if you knew she declared you ‘doable.’”
Raj laughed. “In her dreams.”
“Look at you all puffed up. Imagine what it’d do for your ego if I told you that even my own dear friend Thea said as much to me before I kicked the bucket.”
Raj craned his head toward Gray. “Thea Johnston thinks I’m doable?”
“You know her or something?”
“We have some classes together. She’s always seemed really cool.”
“Then why don’t you ask her out or something?” Gray snapped. Her frown stretched to her chin. Why shouldn’t Raj think Thea was cool? She was really cool.
“Whoa, who said anything about asking anyone out?” Raj lifted his hands. So far his lighter hadn’t appeared in either hand. Gray kept expecting him to retrieve the blasted thing and start snapping it open and closed. Heck, she felt like flicking the dang Zippo a few times herself. “I’m still processing this information.”
“That’s right, gloat all you want—two girls at McKinley vote Raj McKenna decidedly doable.”
“And you don’t?”
“You wish.”
“Why not?”
Gray pressed her lips together.
Raj chuckled the longer she refused to respond. Gray picked up the pace. “Speaking of doable, I have to go get my morning embrace with Blake over with.”
Raj caught Gray’s arm. She was about to demand he let her go, but the words died on her tongue when their eyes met.
“I don’t like him touching you.”
“It’s not me he’s touching.”
Raj stared deep into Gray’s eyes. “It is you.”
She swallowed. “Don’t worry. I can look out for myself.” Gray pulled free from his grasp.
“I don’t like it,” he repeated as she hurried down the hall.
Raj’s words followed Gray right up to Blake Foster, who awaited her at her locker. The grin on his face was sickening. “Last night was incredible,” he whispered, invading Gray’s personal space and running his gropey hands all over her before she had the chance to cast a rash across his body. “You are one naughty schoolgirl.”
So that was what Charlene meant by damage control.
Blake reached a hand up Gray’s skirt at the same time he bit down on her earlobe. Gray didn’t have enough wits about her to cast a spell. She did, however, have the full force of her natural reflexes and smacked Blake across the face with a resounding slap.
The hand that’d been under Gray’s skirt was now pressed against Blake’s cheek. Anger flashed across his eyes.
Uh-oh.
Gray chuckled nervously. “And you’re a naughty schoolboy.”
Blake didn’t bite. “Not cool, Charlene,” he said. “Not cool at all.” And then he stormed off.
* * *
Gray spent first period on the edge of her seat biting her fingernails—a habit she’d supposedly kicked before entering high school. Ryan didn’t mention Blake so he must not have heard about it yet.
“Here,” Ryan said, slipping Gray a typed report.
Gray glanced down. Gene Mutation was in bold text at the top followed by Charlene Perez, 1st Period Biology/Darling. “What is this?”
“Charlene’s biology report.”
“You do her homework for her?”
“Biology is Charlene’s most difficult subject,” Ryan huffed.
Gray huffed back at him. “Yeah, and gym’s mine. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna have someone run laps for me.”
Ryan straightened up in his desk. “Anyway, Charlene helps me with English.”
“Well, good for her.” God, Gray was actually looking forward to Mr. Darling’s lecture that morning—anything to shut Ryan up. And she had two more classes with him before the day was out. It wasn’t like she got them over with in one fell swoop, either. They were strung out over the course of her day. School started with Ryan Phillips and ended with Ryan Phillips. She needed her damn body back.
As much as she loathed keeping Ryan’s company, French held even less appeal.
Shay Baxter advanced on Gray as she headed for the seat beside Nolan. “Why don’t you sit beside me, Mademoiselle Perez.” It wasn’t a question.
“And why should I do that?” Gray demanded. Ryan had been warm-up and she was on a roll.
Because I’m going to tell you what to say if Madam Girard calls on you.
Just great: On top of everything else, Shay Baxter had telepathic powers.
If only Gray had the same ability to convey a message of apology to Nolan as she slumped into the desk beside Shay in the front row.
“Why are you helping me?” Gray asked.
“I’m doing this for Raj.”
Gray’s lip curled back. “You must really care about him.”
Shay naturally didn’t pick up on Gray’s bitter tone. Her stoic pose went uncompromised. “He’s my friend,” she said matter-of-factly.
Well, he could forget about being Gray’s friend. She had a bone to pick with Raj. How could he tell Shay Baxter about the resurrection spell? He probably told her everything. They were BFFs, bonded through years of friendship.
Gray had to stop this. Shay was probably reading her thoughts right now.
“I’ll also translate everything Madame Girard says so you’ll know what’s going on in class,” Shay said.
“And that’s it, right?” Gray asked. “You’re not going to invade my thoughts or anything?”
Shay showed the first glimmer of emotion. Maybe it was her version of outrage because her words had a crisp undertone as they dropped from her lips. “That would be a violation of your private rights, not to mention an infringement of coven code. I would never eavesdrop on your personal thoughts.”
Of course you wouldn’t, Miss Perfect.
Gray checked Shay’s face for any indication that she’d heard that thought, but the girl still looked incensed by Gray’s accusation. Shay’s jaw didn’t soften until Max Curry walked in. While they greeted one another, Gray glanced back at Nolan. He was frowning. She lifted a hand and nodded her head toward Shay. Nolan looked down at the piece of paper on his desk and began scribbling furiously.
Gray turned back around to face the front of the room. It wasn’t that she wanted to sit beside Shay Baxter. She was the last person she wanted to sit next to! But it beat laryngitis.
After class, Gray waited for Nolan in the hallway. He certainly took his time coming out. “Hey,” she said when he stepped out of class.
“Hey.”
“Sorry I didn’t get to sit with you.” Gray rolled her eyes. “Shay Baxter cornered me. At least she’s helping me with my language problem.”
Nolan stiffened. “So Shay knows what’s going on?”
“It’s not like I told her. Raj did.” Gray screwed up her face. “He’s so going to get a piece of my mind—or mouth, rather. I guess Shay really is more gifted than me with her fancy pants telepathic abilities. I’ll just have to chew him out the old-fashioned way: with my mouth.” Gray chuckled then stopped abruptly when she noticed Nolan wasn’t exactly paying attention to her diatribe.
“You told Raj McKenna?”
Gray lifted her shoulders up and down. “Well, yeah. He knows that warlock I mentioned, Adrian Montez.”
Nolan’s lip curled over. “But I was going to help you.”
“You still are. I’d much rather solicit the help of this Brock guy than Adrian the Avenger. He doesn’t even have powers anymore.”
Nolan’s mouth returned to normal. “Cool, so we’ll make a road trip out of it this weekend.”
“Saturday,” Gray said. “No overnighters unless you want to wake up next to one very pissed-off twin.” She chuckled.
Nolan dimpled and looked at the ground then back up. “All right, if I don’t see you later, I’ll catch you Saturday morning as soon as I can make a getaway.”
* * *
Gray physically winced when she lifted the tab of her French vanilla Slim Fast during lunch hour—and it wasn’t just because the chalky substance in front of her was “French.” Gray took a sip and made a face. “God, this is foul.”
Kiki giggled. Even her salad looked more appetizing.
Gray stood up and grabbed the Slim Fast, practically crushing it in her hand.
“What are you doing?” Brittany asked.
“I’m chucking this and getting tater tots.”
“I’ll come with you,” Kiki said.
Brittany stood. “Well, you can’t just leave me here sitting alone.”
“I think I’ll have a slice of pizza,” Kiki said on the way up to the service window.
“You know you guys are going to have pimples tomorrow,” Brittany cried out behind them. “And forget fitting into your prom dresses. Guys? Wait up!”
Gray got her tater tots and Kiki had her slice of pizza. Gray made a goofy face at Brittany when the girl glared at her. “What? You want one or something?”
“No, thanks,” Brittany sniffed.
Gray thought she’d managed to survive another day at McKinley High as Charlene when Brittany came rushing upon her at the end of sixth period.
“Oh my god, promise you won’t get mad at me for telling you this, Charlene.”
Gray suppressed a sigh. “What now?”
“Kristy Phelps says Blake and Jenna showed up at Subway together during lunch hour. Usually Kristy has fifth period chemistry with Jenna, but Jenna never showed up and when I asked Kiki, she said Blake didn’t show up to bio.”
Obviously, Gray was supposed to have some kind of reaction to this, but she just wasn’t in the mood. “Oh my god, that bastard,” Gray said half-heartedly. “At least I showed him with Todd Hanson. Maybe it’s time I tap that again.”
Brittany hugged her arms around her chest. “Todd is the hottest senior at McKinley. You’ll so show Blake!”
“What’s he doing with bucktoothed Jenna Hocking, anyway?” Gray mused aloud. “When did Stacey Morehouse stop making the cut?”
Brittany’s mouth hung open. “You’re joking, right?”
“Apparently.” Gray lowered her voice and leaned closer. “Why?”
Brittany took a step back. Her face squeezed together and she looked at Gray with the same kind of disgust one might use when catching sight of roadkill or a whiff of fish guts.
“What’s wrong with you lately?”
“I bumped my head this morning. Really hard,” Gray added when the first part did nothing to soften the features of Brittany’s expression.
“Yeah, well, you might want to have that looked at.” Brittany walked away as though Gray’s supposed head injury were contagious, or maybe the only contagion she was worried about was keeping company with a person clearly losing her mind.
Fat chance Charlene’s friends would stick around if her sister stopped being anything other than perfectly stuck-up and popular. Blake’s wasn’t the only relationship she had to maintain and that was currently on the fritz thanks to Gray’s handy dandy reflexes.
Gray could only begin to imagine what she’d find written in the Book of Charlene come Saturday morning. Her sister would probably rip through the pages with the pressure of her pen. Well, it wasn’t easy being Charlene.
Gray noticed Ryan at the end of the hall with his jacket and backpack. He walked toward the double doors leading into the student parking lot. Gray hurried after him. “Hey, Ryan!” As soon as Gray was close enough she asked, “What’s the deal with Stacey Morehouse? I asked Brittany why Blake lost interest in her and she looked at me like I was nutto. So what did you fail to mention?”
“Um.” Ryan looked side to side. “It’s complicated.”
“Ryan!”
“She’s in a coma.”
Gray stepped so close to Ryan their noses practically touched. “How did Stacey get in a coma?”
“She was in a car crash.” Ryan’s eyes darted to one side.
Gray sucked in a breath. Even when she’d distanced herself from Ryan by a full foot she had trouble getting air into her lungs. Finally, she managed to take in a breath. She wanted to slap him across his pear-shaped face or, better yet, sock him in the jaw. “Realized the error of his ways, my ass.” Gray turned on her heel and took off down the hallway.
“Don’t go assuming something!” Ryan yelled after her.
But it was far too late for that.
Gray had only one theory, and her name was Charlene.
* * *
Green, Gray thought.
Green. Green. Green.
The lights changed on cue all the way to Valley Medical Hospital. Man oh man, she loved being a witch. Gray didn’t have any time to waste. Not that Stacey Morehouse was going anywhere. She just had to see how she was doing for herself.
“Hello, I’m here to see Stacey Morehouse,” Gray said, approaching the front desk of the critical care unit.
A large African-American woman, who looked even darker in her white uniform, regarded Gray over her horn-rimmed glasses. “Are you a relative?”
“I’m a friend.”
“Sorry, sweetie, only family allowed.”
“Thanks,” Gray said grudgingly.
No matter. Once she’d rounded the corner and checked that the hallway was deserte
d, Gray went invisible and turned right back around. It would have helped if she’d known which room Stacey was in. Gray had never been very good at locator spells. If the stationed nurse would go away for a second, Gray could try looking Stacey up on the computer, but the woman was firmly planted in her seat.
Okay, feet, take me to Stacey Morehouse.
Gray walked swiftly down the hall and slipped through a partially open door. An elderly woman emerged from her bathroom. The flush of the toilet still sloshed behind her. Gray was about to mutter an apology, then remembered she was invisible.
She’d just have to look in every room until she found Stacey.
Hospital odors always made her nose twitch. If only invisibility could erase her sense of smell. At least Gray hadn’t died inside a hospital. Dying peacefully in her sleep was at the top of Gray’s list as far as death scenarios went—just not at seventeen!
Gray was surprised by how much it affected her to see Stacey Morehouse lying comatose on top of her hospital bed. She’d never been fond of Stacey, but they shared a bond now: the bond of death and the brink of death. Two seventeen-year-old girls knocked down in their prime.
The difference was Stacey shouldn’t be lying on her back, breathing through a ventilator, shut off to the world. Gray sent out a silent apology for her sister—if it was, indeed, Charlene. That was what she had to find out.
The windows in Stacey’s room overlooked the hospital’s green patch of lawn below.
It looked like an interior designer had been hired to personalize Stacey’s hospital room. Whoever it was had done a noble job of making it feel more homey. Several framed Monet art prints hung from the wall and there was a fresh floral bouquet on a side table.
A beautiful patchwork quilt had been spread over Stacey’s standard-issue hospital bedspread.
Gray walked tentatively to Stacey’s bedside. Why did it feel like she was approaching an open casket?
Stacey’s hair was fluffed gently around the pillow on either side of her face as though it had recently been combed. Her brows were perfectly plucked and even her cheeks had a healthy glow to them.
She looked like Sleeping Beauty.
“What did Charlene do to you?” Gray whispered.
Chapter Eighteen
Death and accidents were beginning to feel like a morbid obsession with Gray. Her eyes raced down the article she’d pulled up on the computer inside her room.
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