Bloodspell (The Cruentus Curse, #1)(17)

"So are we going or what?" Charla broke her train of thought once again. Victoria realized they were both looking at her. She nodded.

"I'm driving. Come on!" Charla said. "Gabe's going to be there and I want you to meet him."

"Who's Gabe?" Victoria asked, as they piled into Charla's convertible Jetta.

"He's Angie's brother, and well, he's a great guy ... a good friend. He's a senior. You have to meet him." Victoria's doubtful expression made Charla grin.

"Don't worry, I promise you'll like him."

Despite Charla's assurance, Victoria fully expected that Gabe would be a male version of Angie and was already preparing herself for the worst. Something about the way Charla had talked about him showed that Gabe was a lot more than a good friend to her, but Victoria noticed that she had been careful not to say anything that would imply that he was a boyfriend.

They joined the long line of cars heading up to the lake. The weather in Maine was unpredictable—one year it would be December before the temperature dropped below freezing, and the next, it'd be bone-chillingly cold by mid-September. This year, it was still eighty degrees and everyone wanted to get to the lake one last time before autumn arrived.

"How do you like living in Canville? Can't be much different from Millihooha, right?"

"Millinocket."

"Whatever, it's all the same anyway," Charla sighed. "I grew up in Portland, and I cannot wait to get out of here! Angie and Gabe are from New York and they love it. I'm going back with them when I graduate. No Harland for me, I'm only applying to colleges down there. Big city, here I come!"

Victoria was surprised that Angie was from New York, although she knew she shouldn't be, since students at Windsor came from all over the place. But for her, New York was part of a different lifetime, and she didn't bother to correct Charla's mistaken assumption that she was also from Maine.

"Actually, I like Canville a lot. It's peaceful here. And I really love Windsor so far."

"It's a good school, just in the middle of nowhere. You can go a little stir crazy." Charla glanced in the rearview mirror. "Where'd you transfer from again?"

"St. Xavier's." The shape of it was acrid in Victoria's mouth.

Angie caught on quickly. "You didn't like it?" she asked. Victoria was saved from saying anything at all when Charla interjected with a snort.

"No wonder. My cousin went there. It's snooty as hell. And the cheerleaders are manic. They hunt in packs." Charla made spirit-fingers waggling them across her face and chanted, "Be aggressive! Be, be aggressive!"

"I called them the Stepfords. Robotic cheer dolls," Victoria said dryly.

A guffaw from Charla. "I'm coining that one! Hilarious!"

"So why did you leave?" Angie's insistence irked Victoria.

"I got sick and missed a bunch of classes, and I ... wanted to go somewhere else."

Angie blinked. "Just like that?"

"No, not 'just like that.' What is your problem?" Victoria snapped. Angie's black eyes remained speculative, a small smile playing around the corners of her mouth. Charla shot Angie a surprised look.

"Jeez, Ange. Chill. Who cares? It's no wonder she had to transfer. I'd probably get expelled in a second if I went there." Charla winked in the rear view mirror. "But enough crazy talk, let's get some tunes going to kick off the weekend, shall we?"

As the sounds of funk-inspired hip-hop filled the car, Victoria leaned back, watching the dark green scenery go by letting its beauty diffuse her irritation. Here and there, some leaves had already begun to redden, hinting that fall was just around the corner. New England's stunning autumn landscapes were unsurpassed. She sighed, enjoying the breeze blowing through her hair.

A silver car heading in the opposite direction caught her eye. The car was fantastic, sleek and foreign, and looked totally out of place in Canville. As it passed by, almost in slow motion, she could see the familiar, striking face through the windshield.

Christian Devereux ...

His eyes caught and held hers, and for a moment, they were both frozen, time and space passing around them. She tore her eyes away from his as they drove past, resisting the urge to turn around in her seat and stare. One look, and it felt as if she were dissipating, like fragments of paper on water.

"Is Christian Devereux hot or what?" Charla said, breaking her trance. "And that car! What I wouldn't give to get a ride in that!" She laughed. Angie rolled her eyes.

"Does he go to Windsor?" Victoria blurted out. "I mean I saw him at Admission's."

"Harland. But he's involved with a class at Windsor," Charla said. "Seriously, I couldn't stand to take AP Epistemology. I would be like freaking out the whole time."

"AP what?" Victoria said.

"Epistemology," Charla said with a grin. "Mouthful, right?"

"That's a class?"

Angie surprised Victoria by commenting in a dry voice. "It's an elective class, part of a new program—the study of knowledge and truth and what people believe in, things like that. It's a new major at Harland, one of the first in the state I think, and they want to gauge high school student interest. Everyone freaks out when he comes to class. It's totally ridiculous." Quietly under her breath, she added, "as if they even know what he is." Victoria heard her and the words were out of her mouth before she could stop herself.