Miss Mayhem (Rebel Belle #2)(32)
She shook her head. “That girl who took me, Blythe. She was there at first, but she was gone within a day or two. Other than that . . .” Trailing off, she shaded her eyes, studying a bright blue bird perched on our privacy fence. “It was just him.”
I frowned and settled back against the tree trunk. “I don’t get it. The Ephors are supposed to be this . . . group. Like the Illuminati or something. Why is he the only one who seems to be in charge of anything?”
At that, Bee looked at me, resting her cheek on her raised knees. “Maybe he’s an overachiever,” she suggested, and that dimple appeared in her cheek again. “Maybe,” she added, “he’s the you of the Ephors and doesn’t like delegating.”
I bumped her with my own raised knees. “I guess that’s possible, but still, it seems weird, right?”
With a long sigh, Bee leaned her head back, the sunlight and the leaves casting shadows on her face. “What about this isn’t?” she asked.
She had a point.
For a while, we were silent, both lost in our thoughts, and I was actually a little startled when Bee said, “I feel sorry for him.”
“Alexander?” I asked, wrinkling my nose, and she shook her head.
“David. Having powers you don’t really get, people trying to kill you, people trying to keep you safe, and not being able to do anything about any of it. I mean, it’s not easy for you or Ryan, either,” she added, tucking a loose strand of hair behind one ear, “but y’all get to be active instead of waiting for other people to fix things.”
Stretching out my legs, I let my head drop back against the trunk, too. “I never thought of it like that, exactly. Is that what y’all were talking about earlier?”
Bee unfolded her legs, mimicking my posture. “Kind of. He was apologizing for asking me to do the Peirasmos. Said he’s spent a lot of time trying to come up with solutions, and that one just occurred to him before he really thought it through.”
I definitely felt better about that, but it was still a little weird to think of David and Bee, like, sharing confidences and stuff.
“I don’t think there is a solution to all of this,” I told her, and Bee looked over at me.
“That’s . . . depressing.”
I laughed, but it sounded a little forced. “It’s not so bad,” I said. “Once David gets his powers back and under control, I’m sure having a future-telling boyfie will be the best, plus I get to be a ninja, and that’s always fun—”
Bee reached out and laid a hand on my shoulder. “Harper,” she said, and I recognized her “don’t give me that BS” look. It was something about the way she tilted her head down, making me meet her eyes.
“Okay,” I conceded, crossing one ankle over the other. “It sucks. It sucks a lot. But it’s the way things are, and there’s no way to change it.”
Her hand fell away, fingers playing in the grass between us. “If David did just leave . . .”
I sat up, looking at her more sharply. “Did he mention that to you, too?”
She didn’t look up, using one nail to split a blade of grass. “A little, but apparently there are wards keeping him here for the time being?” Now she lifted her gaze. “What would happen if he broke them?”
Surprised, I blinked at her. “I . . . don’t know, honestly. I guess it would hurt him, or do something bad.”
It was a little embarrassing to admit that I knew so little about something so major, but Bee only gave a slight hum and split another piece of grass.
Chapter 15
I GET THAT most people think that school assemblies are totally boring, and they’re not always wrong—if I never have to sit through another meeting on selling wrapping paper to raise money for the Grove, it will be too soon—but I was actually looking forward to Friday morning’s. Maybe it was because I got to speak before it started, and I always enjoyed things like that, especially now. There was something comfortingly normal about walking up to the podium and speaking confidently to the other students, even if it was only about upcoming service projects and the Spring Fling. It reminded me that there were still things in my life I controlled.
Or maybe I was psyched because I got to talk about the dance. In any case, I sat in the folding chair next to Lucy McCarroll, the sophomore class president. I’d dressed nicely today, wearing a yellow-and-green Lilly Pulitzer dress Mom had gotten for me on a shopping trip to Mobile. Headmaster Dunn made his remarks first, reminding us about upcoming ACT dates and not to leave litter in the parking lot and to remember that “after last year’s unfortunate incident with farm animals in the band room,” senior pranks were expressly forbidden. It may not have been a display of great manners, but I scanned the bleachers in front of us as he droned on. I spotted Bee almost immediately, sitting next to Ryan, and I smiled.
She grinned back, giving me a little wave, and then leaned over to say something to Ryan. His gaze flicked toward me, but I couldn’t read his expression. Apparently the Mary Beth incident was still an issue. Which was fine, since the whole defacing-the-wards-and-not-telling-me thing was very much an issue as far as I was concerned. So I let my gaze move away from him, searching out David.
Who was . . . not there.
I spotted Chie and Michael talking to each other on the very top bleacher, clearly not listening to Headmaster Dunn. So where was David? He always sat with them, and if he wasn’t there, then I’d expect him to be next to Bee and Ryan. I’d told him I was going to speak this morning, and, hey, even if I hadn’t, assemblies were mandatory.