Torched Page 13

  Her dark eyes flashed. “Say you’re sorry, and it will stop.”

  I held her gaze. Beside Alina, Elizabeth was glaring at me too, but I ignored her. Finally, when Alina’s tan cheeks were brushed with red, I shrugged.

  “It’s sad, really. I thought you knew me better than that.” I half-turned away. “But then, I thought I knew you better too.”

  Maybe it was coincidence, but no one tripped me in the hallway the next day, and by Friday at lunch only two girls had tried to elbow me in the ribs. That should have lightened my mood, but I was scowling on Friday after school.

  Practice wasn’t going well. Natalie had spent the week not-so-quietly trying to rally the squad against me, and though more than half were now on my side thanks to Hayley’s support, the divide was killing our progress.

  “We’re not going home until we get this right!” I shouted after a sequence in the middle of our competition routine got mangled yet again. “You know I’ll keep you late if I have to!” I’d done it yesterday, and the day before that. We weren’t going to scrape past even semi-regionals if we couldn’t get our act together.

  Plus, between the late practices and the studying binge I’d had to go on for a history exam today--my classwork had taken sort of a backseat with all the arson drama, and I’d had to get back on track or watch my GPA become another casualty--I hadn’t had time to put together a costume for tonight’s party.

  The next time we took a break, I called Paxton. I expected it to go to voicemail, but he picked up. “If it isn’t my least favorite cheerleader,” he said, but without heat.

  “Do you or Juliette have any costume stuff I could borrow?” I asked.

  “I’m actually at the costume shop now.”

  I glanced at the clock on the gym wall. “Don’t you have practice?”

  “Haven’t gone since Wednesday. Coach wants me to rest my ankle. You want me to pick you up something?”

  “That would be awesome. Anything with a mask. Wait--anything cute with a mask. No gorilla costumes.” I frowned. “By the way, why do you have a gorilla costume if you’re not using it for Halloween?”

  “Too bad our war’s over, or you’d find out.”

  I rolled my eyes, but I was smiling. “I’ve got to get back to practice. I’ll come pick up the costume when we’re done, okay?”

  Luckily the last part of practice went smoothly, and I wrapped things up on time. Lindsay drove me home, and once she’d left I jogged over to Paxton’s house. The front door was unlocked, so I went inside and upstairs.

  Paxton was at his computer. He swiveled in his desk chair as I paused in the doorway.

  “Who let you in?” he said. It was one of our standard greetings for each other. Since we pretended to get along when our families hung out together, our parents thought we were kidding. Now was probably the first time in years that was true. I gave my standard answer.

  “Yonkers, of course.” The cat herself slipped in past me and trotted under Paxton’s bed. I noticed that Paxton’s desk drawer fronts were nailed back in, and suppressed the urge to apologize for breaking them.

  Then I realized I should apologize. Even if he was quasi-hostile, Paxton was helping me. And after four days thinking about the classmates who hated me--and why--I was brutally aware of how little I apologized for hurting people. No matter how much I’d thought at the time that I was justified, the fact remained that I’d broken into Paxton’s room without real cause.

  “Sorry about your desk,” I said.

  Paxton blinked, then clapped a hand to his chest like he was having a heart attack.

  “Was that an honest-to-Panthers apology from the queen of denial herself?”

  “Shut up.” My face felt on fire. Of course Paxton had to make this hard. “Where’s my costume? I’ll go shower and change. I should be ready by eight.” I frowned. Paxton had an odd look on his face, like he was holding back a smile. “What, didn’t you find anything?”

  “Yep. Found the perfect disguise for you.” He went to his bed and upended a plastic shopping bag on the comforter, then held up something very ...

  Sheer.

  My jaw dropped.

  “Tell me you did not buy me a harem girl costume.”

  “It’s got a mask, see?” Paxton pointed out the dark veil.

  “It’s also made of gauze!” I grabbed at the costume. There was a bikini-type thing sewed under the sheer stuff, but I held it up in dismay. “This covers less than my bathing suit!” I liked sexy Halloween outfits as much as the next girl, but this was practically a stripper’s outfit.

  “To be fair,” Paxton said, “your bikinis are very modest. Prudish, even.”

  I threw the costume onto his desk.

  “I knew you weren’t going to help me! You can take your harem costume and shove it up your--” I broke off when Paxton collapsed onto his bed in laughter. I stared at him. He managed to point to a plastic bag beside his closet door.

  “There’s your real costume,” he said, then doubled over laughing again. “Your face ...”

  “You bought an entire harem girl costume just as a joke?” The thing must have cost like a hundred dollars. I stalked over and snatched up the other bag. “You have way too much disposable income.”

  “I’ll--return it--tomorrow,” he said between gasps.

  I picked up the harem costume again and yanked off the tags, then threw the bundle at him. “Not now, you won’t.”

  Half-smothered in diaphanous pink fabric, Paxton cracked up again as I left.

  Chapter 13

  “You are extremely lucky this fit,” I told Paxton as I slipped into his car. My outfit was a short teal dress patterned like little feathers, with a peacock tail printed on a flexible foam fan that attached at the rear and hung down past my knees. It was actually really cute on me, and my irritation at Paxton’s joke had faded when I saw myself in the mirror. I even felt bad for ripping the tags off the harem costume so he couldn’t return it. What had happened to my attempts to be nice? But Paxton knew just how to get under my skin.

  “Good thought on the wig,” I told him. The brown locks disguised my trademark strawberry-blonde hair, and made the teal feathered mask pop. I held the peacock tail in my lap. I’d brought no purse for my friends to recognize, only a house key, my driver’s license and some cash slipped into my strapless bra.

  Paxton wore all black, with a cape across his shoulders. A black bandanna with two eyes cut out covered the top half of his face. I turned to look in the backseat, not surprised to see a sword. Added to the wide belt with an embroidered gold “Z”, it spelled ...

  “Zorro?” I pretended confusion. “I would have thought you’d go as Spock or something.”

  Paxton’s gaze flicked up, and I realized he’d been checking out my mostly bare legs. “Do you even remember who that is?” He put the car in gear, and we pulled away from the curb.

  A quote from one of the Star Trek movies caught at me, and I said it without thinking.

  “I am, and always shall be, your friend.” As soon as it was out of my mouth I cringed. Considering our history, could I have picked a more awkward quote? Thank goodness I was wearing my mask, or Paxton would see my red face. I stared out the side window, but could feel him looking at me. “Um. Anyway. Drop me off out of sight but as close as possible. These heels were not made for walking.” I’d chosen nondescript strappy black ones, since Alina was familiar with the contents of my shoe closet. Despite our disparate figures, we wore the same size shoe. In better days, I’d teased her for having elephant feet. Never around other people, though, since Alina was sensitive about it.

  It occurred to me that I should’ve brought her big feet up in school this week, to strike back at her. But I knew I wouldn’t, for the same reason I hadn’t soaped her Jaguar’s windshield with insults or bou
ght her a “For a good time, call ...” ad in the town paper. Maybe Alina wasn’t as good a friend, or as nice a person, as I’d thought, but part of me understood she was only attacking me out of hurt. I didn’t want to fight, didn’t want to deepen the chasm between us. Maybe it would never be filled, but I didn’t want it to be because I forgot Alina wasn’t my real enemy.

  “I thought of a better idea,” Paxton said. “You’re my cousin Lisa from L.A., in town for the weekend. My parents made me bring you. Otherwise people will wonder who the peacock is all night, and won’t talk to you.”

  I considered. “That should work.”

  “So I’ll corner Daniel and see what his deal is,” Paxton said.

  “And I’ll see which of the girls on the list are here, and find out what I can.” We turned into a subdivision of lavish houses, each protected by banks of evergreens and far enough away from its neighbors that no one had to worry about being too loud. It was one reason Tiff’s parties were so fun. That, and her parents went out of town as often as mine. And she had a pool.

  Music blasted at me even before we got inside. Paxton greeted some guys on the front porch and introduced me as his cousin. I searched everyone’s faces for suspicion, but the guys just shrugged or eyed my legs.

  “You should hang with us.” One of them sidled up and offered me his drink, along with a smirk. “You know what you can’t spell ‘peacock’ without?”

  “Pea,” I answered flatly. His buddies laughed. Paxton steered me away.

  “No hitting on my cousin,” he yelled back, then bent to my ear as we went through the door. Inside, a bass beat pulsed, almost smothering his words. “You do remember you’re not Rose tonight, right?” His breath tickled my ear.

  “Yeah, so?”

  “So don’t be a smart-ass. My cousin is sweet and nice.”

  “Are you sure you’re related to her?” I murmured. Paxton poked me hard in the shoulder, but I thought I saw his lips twitch. “Fine, fine. Sweetness and light.”

  “I know that goes against your religion, but try.”

  We made our way down the hallway. Orange, green and purple lights curled along the ceiling, and a genuine fog machine rumbled in the living room. I breathed in the scent of cinnamon and smiled--Tiffany’s parties always smelled of cinnamon, no matter what the occasion. She called it her signature scent. She claimed that when we were all old, we’d smell cinnamon and remember her parties. She was probably right.

  We found the largest crowd in the living room. Thankfully, enough people sported masks that I didn’t stand out because of it.

  “There’s your crew,” Paxton said in my ear. “Want me to ‘introduce’ you?”

  I followed his gaze. Alina stood by the fireplace, dressed as a sultry Princess Jasmine; next to her was Elizabeth as Belle from Beauty and the Beast. Nearby I spotted the other female members of Student Council: a sexy Cinderella, and a suitably tarty Ariel.

  “They all went as Disney princesses,” I muttered to Paxton. “I want to be a Disney princess.” Nothing like being left out of a group costume theme to make a girl feel like an outsider. Paxton gave me a look, like he didn’t get why I was annoyed. Boys.

  “Which one would you have been?” he asked, steering me towards them.

  “Mulan, of course. She could kick the other princesses’ butts.” And then we were by the fireplace. Paxton caught my friends’ attention with a lazy smile.

  “Hey, everyone, this is my cousin Lisa. She’s in town for the weekend. Play nice, alright?” He glanced at Tiffany. “Beer by the pool?”

  “Yep. I think the pep squad is doing keg stands. If they won’t let you have any, Zorro, use your ...” Tiffany looked him up and down his muscular frame, then grinned. “Sword.”

  The rest of the girls giggled.

  Wow, Tiff was already cruising past tipsy if she’d broken out the dirty double-entendres. Paxton winked at her, then left.

  “So where are you from?” Alina asked. I felt about to break out in hives, sure everyone recognized me. But they were being friendly, so obviously they didn’t. I pitched my voice higher than normal and tried to sound sweet.

  “L.A. But I always wanted to live up here. My parents won’t move. It’s lame.”

  “Are you kidding? It’s too cold here,” Alina complained. “Almost too cold for the pool.”

  “It’s never too cold for the pool,” Tiffany declared, and everyone bickered back and forth. I slouched a little, something I usually never did because my mom--and cheerleading--had taught me not to hunch my shoulders.

  “Too bad Rose isn’t here,” Elizabeth said during a lull. She looked prissy in her Belle dress, and kept pulling down on it as if wishing she’d picked a costume with more cleavage. “We could spill beer on her.”

  “Hey, no party fouls tonight,” Tiffany said. Not part of the Disney Princess Brigade, she wore a sexy police uniform, complete with handcuffs. “If Rose shows, be nice.”

  “Since when are you on Rose’s side?” Elizabeth asked.

  “I’m not on anyone’s side.” Tiffany adopted a sing-song voice. “Why can’t we all just get along?”

  “Says the girl who’s going to mock-arrest Rose if she shows up,” Alina observed.

  Tiffany grinned. “Rose will think it’s hilarious.”

  I tried not to narrow my eyes. There was no way I’d have found that funny.

  “No, she won’t,” Alina said. “I told you guys to lay off. We’re done with that.”

  I stared wide-eyed at Alina, a wisp of hope igniting. Had I finally gotten through to her?

  “Done?” Elizabeth looked annoyed. “Why? With what she did to you, and to Ryan--”

  “I said,” Alina interrupted with her I Am Royalty, Hear Me Roar voice, “we’re done. Leave her alone.”

  “So what, are you friends again?”

  “No! In fact, if she walks in, I’m leaving.”

  “Okay, so we’re still shunning her.”

  “Whatever. I need more rum and Coke.” Alina headed toward the dining room, where the bar was set up. I frowned after her. She’d stood up for me, sort of, but obviously still didn’t care about throwing our years of friendship away. I bit my lip hard to stay focused.

  “I’m still going to arrest Rose if she shows,” Tiffany declared, looking eagerly towards the door.

  I cleared my throat. “Who’s Rose?”

  “She’s a criminal,” Elizabeth snapped.

  Anger shot through me, along with the urge to verbally tear Elizabeth a new one. But just in time, I caught myself. I was Lisa tonight. Innocent. Sweet. I took a deep breath. “What, did she steal something of yours?”

  “The Treasurer spot on class council, for starters. And ... she’s always just so full of herself. Watch. If she comes tonight, you’ll see.”

  Well, that explained why Elizabeth was on the Hater List. I frowned behind my mask. No one had countered her insult, though no one seconded it either. Did everyone think I was full of myself?

  “Hey, chicas!” Georgette and Francesca Richmond appeared at my shoulder, and I stiffened. I hadn’t so much as spoken to the girl who’d stolen Ryan from me since I’d seen those horrible pictures, and I was glad of my mask as they joined the conversation. My nemesis wore a slinky angel costume, while Georgette was a pirate wench.

  A few minutes later, Ryan walked in with some soccer buddies, all of them dressed in togas. I noticed him in the mirror on the wall, but I thought I’d feel his arrival even if I hadn’t. I half-turned so I could peek at him surreptitiously while Georgette told Tiffany about a scratch on her silver Mustang.

  “Instead of fixing it, Daddy just wants to trade it in for something else.”

  “Good!” Tiffany crowed over the music. “Now you can ditch that piece of crap and get a real car!” She and Elizab
eth high-fived. “Major slam!” Georgette rolled her eyes and went to get a drink.

  Ryan’s toga had gold edges and left his chest mostly bare. The olive laurels on his head made his eyes look like the deep green of a forest. I wasn’t the only one craning my neck for a glimpse of his abs, I noticed.

  I turned back to the girls and tried to steer the conversation towards what people were doing two weeks ago, but somehow we wound up talking about which of the basketball guys Tiffany had hooked up with. She swore none, but broke down after further questioning.

  “Only one,” she shrieked, laughing. “But I’m not telling who!”

  I glanced over at Ryan again.

  “Just so you know, Lisa, Ryan is off-limits.”

  I jumped at the voice in my ear, and turned to see Georgette’s brown eyes. One of them, anyway, since the other was covered by a patch.

  “What?”

  “That guy you keep looking at. His name is Ryan, and he’s off-limits.”

  “Oh. Um, okay.” I am sweetness and light, I told myself fiercely. I am definitely not about to explode. “Whose boyfriend is he?” I steeled myself against her answer, sure she was going to tell me Ryan was now dating her sister. They hadn’t gone to Homecoming together, and hadn’t shown up here together, but maybe they were playing it cool so Francesca could avoid the whole “boyfriend-stealing tramp” label. And because the Richmond family loathed the Appletons; two years ago Mr. Appleton had bought out Mr. Richmond’s tech business in one of his trademark hostile takeovers. I bet Mr. Richmond was about as thrilled with those pictures of Francesca and Ryan as I was.

  “Soon to be mine,” Georgette told me, and if I’d had any beer in my mouth I would have sprayed it all over her. Georgette liked Ryan? “I’m going to go say hi,” she said, and winked. “Wish me luck!”

  She sashayed across the room and laid her hand on Ryan’s bare arm. I quickly turned away so people wouldn’t wonder why Lisa-Paxton’s-cousin cared.