Rebel Belle

Page 15


get done with Cotillion practice this afternoon, young man.” Saylor’s gaze swung back to me. “Speaking of, Miss Price, if


you’re feeling so ill, maybe you’d better sit today’s rehearsal out.” “But we’re supposed to practice the prayer today,” I said,


blinking. “I’m leading the prayer.”


Her smile was brittle. “I’m sure Miss Franklin will do a fine


job filling in. And maybe by Wednesday’s practice, you’ll be feeling more yourself.”


Sick for real now, I could only nod. Behind my parents, Saylor


Stark was the last person in the world I wanted to disappoint.


And there was no mistaking that tone. Not only had she caught


me skipping class, I was skipping class with her nephew, whom I had clearly sucked into my downward spiral. If she knew that I’d


also made him an accessory to what might have been murder . . . And that’s when it hit me. David was Saylor’s nephew. He had


lived with her his whole life. If people wanted to kill him, surely


Saylor would know why. But how exactly did you go about asking something like that? Hi, Miss Saylor, are y’all by any chance in


the witness protection program? Or hiding from wizards? She wouldn’t


just take the prayer away from me after that. She’d kick me out


of the entire Cotillion. Maybe even out of the entire town. As she dusted imaginary dirt from her slacks, I watched Saylor, trying to see if there was any sign that she knew why David


and I had been speeding down the street. But between the huge


sunglasses and Saylor’s Perfect Southern Lady ability to repress


any and all emotions, I couldn’t tell.


David, shaking off his daze, moved toward his aunt. “Let


Harper do the stupid prayer,” he said, sounding a bit more like


himself. “This isn’t her fault.”


Saylor’s head shot up. “First of all, you will not call the Cotillion prayer ‘stupid.’ Secondly, you should be at school right now,


not drag racing down Ivy Lane. Thirdly, I have told you that you


need to be more careful. And going a hundred miles an hour in


a car that is on its last legs is hardly careful. What if you’d had


another one of your headaches?”


David scowled at her. “My headaches are no big deal,” he


said, but Saylor held up her hand.


“We are not having this argument in Miss Price’s backyard.


You’re coming with me.”


He flung one long arm out toward his Stratus. “My car—” “You can pick it up in the morning. Harper, I’m sure your


parents won’t mind if David leaves his vehicle here.” The way she said it left no doubt that refusing was not an option. “It’s fine,” I said. “And honestly, it’s still another few hours


until practice, and I’m sure if I took a quick nap and had a sandwich, I’d be fine, too.” I ended with a little laugh, as if by sheer


force of will, I could make her see the funny side to all of this. That smile again, the one that felt like a threat. “I’ll see you


on Wednesday, Harper,” she said, and I could practically hear a


gavel go down. I’d been found guilty of Unladylike Behavior,


Nephew Endangerment, and, if the look she shot my boots was


any indication, Improper Footwear.


And if she ever found out about Ryan . . . oh, God, Ryan. I had


to call him. I had to explain. “Say good-bye to Harper, David,”


Saylor trilled as she began making her way toward David’s car,


moving on the balls of her feet to keep her heels from sinking


again.


David’s eyes met mine, and I could tell the shock was definitely wearing off. He was getting that same predatory look he’d


had at the Homecoming Dance. “Tomorrow. You and me. We


need to talk,” he said in a low voice.


I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “Duh. But . . . I need to


smooth things over with Ryan before I’m seen having sneaky


conversations with you. So let me find you tomorrow, okay?” “Pretty sure ninjas and magic and dead guys trump your


boyfriend’s insecurity,” he hissed, leaning in closer.


“And pretty sure you now know I could kick your behind, so


why don’t you let me handle this?” I whispered back. That wasn’t true, of course. If David hadn’t been rattled, he would’ve remembered this morning, when I hadn’t even been able to slap him.


But at least I got a little satisfaction out of seeing him go pale.


“Fine,” he said through clenched teeth.


“Thank you,” I huffed back.


“David!” Saylor called again, and this time, there was a definite edge to her trill.


“Tomorrow,” he said again, pointing at me.


“Tomorrow,” I agreed.


Chapter 10


“So are you mad at me about yesterday?” I gave a shuddery sigh as I slid into the passenger seat of Bee’s car the next morning. Thank God, she’d made a Starbucks run before coming to pick me up. I took a scalding sip of my latte, then nearly choked on it.


Bee always got me a skinny vanilla latte. This was a triple espresso that was so strong, I was surprised my teeth hadn’t melted. Then I noticed how rigidly she was sitting in her seat, and that the rap music she liked was especially aggressive today.


For a second, I sat there, trying to figure out why I would be mad at Bee. I’d spent the night tossing and turning, worrying about why Ryan wasn’t answering my calls. I must have called him at least ten times, but he’d never picked up. And when I hadn’t been worrying over that, I was thinking of Saylor Stark, the look on her face when she’d seen me grabbing her nephew. God, what if she’d heard me use the F-word?


Then I remembered. Bee had done the Cotillion prayer for me yesterday, and she’d sent like three texts last night that I hadn’t responded to.


“Of course I’m not mad at you,” I said, but I must not have sounded very convincing.


“You seem like you are. Harper, you always answer my texts. And a couple of people said you had a big fight with Ryan yesterday and ditched school.”


My heart stuttered in my chest at that. Oh, God, had Ryan told someone what happened? Did the entire school know I’d flipped him like a freaking omelet?


But no. No, if Ryan had told anyone, it would have been Brandon, and Brandon would’ve told Bee, and Bee definitely would’ve mentioned that first. I tried to keep my sigh of relief quiet before replying, “I told you, I was sick.”


I reached out to turn the radio down, but Bee slapped my hand. “No touching my tunes until you ’fess up. Were you really sick, or did you have a fight with Ryan?”


“I was sick,” I insisted again. “Remember the night of the Homecoming Dance? I . . . I must have some kind of bug.”


Bee frowned. “Something was definitely up that night,” she murmured, and for the first time, I noticed that while she might have been asking if I was mad, she was the one who seemed pissed.


“What’s that supposed to mean?” My brain was racing. Oh my God, had Bee put Mr. Hall and Dr. DuPont’s disappearance together with my pukeage?


A muscle worked in Bee’s jaw, and finally she spit out, “Mary Beth was going home for her free period yesterday, and she said she saw David Stark coming out of your backyard. She said he looked really weird, and then later, she saw Ryan leaving school, and he was super upset, and . . .”


She trailed off and my fingers tightened around my coffee cup. “Go ahead.”


“Mary Beth said that you and David have always been kind of . . . sparky. So she thinks there’s something going on with the two of you.”


I frowned at the “sparky” bit. David and I did not have . . . sparks. What we had was a feud that had been running since we were both in diapers. Something Bee of all people should have understood.


“Is that what you think, Bee?” I asked.


She shrugged. Today, Bee was wearing a huge pair of sunglasses that seemed to hide half her face. Her hair was done up in a high ponytail, and I could see a muscle twitch in her cheek, like she was grinding her teeth. “Explains a lot. Like why you’ve been so freaking weird lately.”


Then she glanced at me. “Explains what was going on in the bathroom the night of Homecoming.”


It was way too early in the morning for this conversation, I decided, drinking a little more espresso. It still tasted like battery acid, but I needed the caffeine. I already had a slight headache.


“I’m not going to pretend to understand why you suddenly have a thing for David when you have Ryan Bradshaw as a boyfriend,” Bee continued, yelling over the music. I went to turn it down, but she pushed my hand out of the way. “What pisses me off is that you didn’t tell me about it.”


“There’s nothing to tell!” I shouted. “I’m not cheating on Ryan, I don’t have a thing for David, and I was sick yesterday. That’s it! Not fighting with my boyfriend, not pregnant, and not any of the other hundreds of things you and Mary Beth probably guessed while y’all were talking behind my back. Oh, and by the way, David was at my house with his aunt. I’m guessing Mary Beth left out that little tidbit.”


Guilt, or maybe hurt, flickered over Bee’s face. “Do you think I’m a total dumbass?”


My head was pounding, and my face felt hot. “Right now, yeah, I do!”


Bee whipped into a parking place and braked so hard that I jerked forward in the seat.


She pushed her sunglasses up to glare at me. “I caught the two of you in the bathroom and you burst into tears.”


“That was actually a little after you found us,” I muttered, but she was on a roll.


“I know you want everyone to think you’re perfect, but you don’t have to pretend with me.” She thunked her head back against the gray leather, and a few girls walking by shot curious glances at the car. “Or at least I thought you didn’t.”

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