Connecting (Lily Dale #3)(36)

You have to tell her.

“Evangeline . . .”

“Ramona and I were really looking forward to the three of us going to the salon today. I mean, you should still come. I know it won’t be the same, but—”

“Evangeline, I’m going.”

“To the salon? Great! At least you can still get your hair cut, and—”

“No, not the salon . . . to the dance.”

“Really? You’re going alone?”

“No.” Guilt, guilt, guilt. So many reasons to feel guilty right now, mostly for the web of lies she’s about to spin, not just to Evangeline, but to her grandmother, and Ramona . . .

But you have no choice. It’s the only way.

She takes a deep breath. “Jacy Bly is taking me. Just as friends,” she feels compelled to add, hoping that makes it easier, not just on Evangeline, but on her.

Silence.

“Evangeline?”

“That’s . . . I, um . . . I think that’s nice.Of him. And, uh, for you.”

“We’re friends, Evangeline. He felt bad when we heard what happened to Blue last night, so he . . . you know . . .”

“Yeah. He’s a good guy. You’ll have fun with him.”

“It’s not like that. We’re not . . . you know.”

“Yeah. You said. Just friends.” Evangeline’s voice is tight. “Well, I’m glad you get to go. I guess I’ll see you when we go to the Hair Wharf. I think the appointment is for two.”

“What about class?”

“Class?”

“Patsy’s class. You’re going this morning, right?”

“Oh . . . I am, but I’m going to be a little late. Go on over without me, and I’ll see you there, okay?”

“Okay. Sure.”

She doesn’t want to walk over with me, Calla thinks, hanging up the phone.

Does she really blame Evangeline for being upset?

She has a date for the dance—supposedly, anyway—with the guy her friend likes.

Okay, so it isn’t really a date.

But what’s gone on between her and Jacy isn’t platonic.

He kissed her last night.

Not just that first time, but later, too. Even after they had walked over to the school just in time to see Blue Slayton being loaded into the ambulance.

He didn’t see Calla. He was obviously in too much pain to notice much of anything.

But he did call her, late, from the hospital.

“I know,” she said, when he told her what had happened.

“I was there. I saw you. Are you going to be okay?”

“Eventually.” He sounded groggy from the medication.

“But I won’t be doing any dancing tomorrow. They’re not even letting me out of here until at least Sunday.”

She told him how sorry she was, and told him to get some rest.

“Yeah, I will. It was such a freak thing, you know? That guy came at me out of nowhere. I can’t believe this happened to me. All I’ve been thinking about lately is that you and I were going to have a great time at the dance, and now look.”

She couldn’t help but remember what Evangeline said about Blue being a powerful psychic, like his father. Shouldn’t he have had an inkling that something was going to happen to him on the soccer field that night?

Maybe not. It’s not a precise science, by any means.

She hung up with Blue and turned to Jacy, who had walked her home and come inside.

“He can’t go,” she told him.

“Then let’s do it.”

They had already hatched a tentative plan at that point.

Now it’s in full swing.

There’s no going back.

“Good morning!”

Calla turns to see her grandmother in the hallway, at the foot of the stairs. She’s wearing the orange satin kimono she uses as a bathrobe, and yawning.

“Hi, Gammy.”

“Today’s the big day.” Odelia pads into the room in her purple terry-cloth scuffies. “How do you feel?”

Might as well get it over with.

“Um. . . the thing is, Blue got hurt last night on the soccer field, so I’m not going with him. Jacy Bly is taking me instead.”

Odelia levels a long gaze at her.

She knows I’m lying.

Calla feels sick inside.

Then her grandmother breaks into a smile. “It’s not that I wish anything bad for Blue,” she says, “but this is how it was supposed to turn out.”

“What do you mean?”

“You and Jacy. I knew it. I’ve felt it all along. I knew you two were going to connect, even before I ever introduced him to you.”

No way.

“Gammy, we’re just going as friends,” she says, thinking of Evangeline.

Odelia waves that notion away with her hot-pink-polished fingers. “Don’t give me that. I know there’s more to it.”

“Really . . . there isn’t. And please don’t say anything to Ramona, or . . . Evangeline.”

“She likes him. I know.”

Calla nods glumly.

“She’ll get over him. There’s someone else for her out there.”

“Russell Lancione?” Calla asks, brightening. “Do you have some kind of premonition about the two of them, or something?”