Miss Mayhem (Rebel Belle #2)(41)

“I like talking in front of people,” I said, bumping her hip with mine. “Being in charge, directing things, not . . . performing.”

“Fair enough,” she said, glancing around the auditorium. “Is that the only thing making you look like you missed being valedictorian by a half a point?”

I tried to smile at her, but I know it didn’t look right. “I was just thinking.”

Bee puckered her lips briefly, brows drawing together. “About David?”

Sighing, I nodded, and Bee gave me a quick squeeze. “Look, I get that breakups suck, but . . . I mean, doesn’t this make things a little easier? Now it’s more like you’re coworkers.”

“Coworkers who are magically bound to each other. Forever,” I reminded her, and Bee’s big brown eyes blinked. “And, not to mention,” I added, “my other ex is also a Magically Bound Coworker. I’m permanently tied to two guys I used to kiss.”

Bee blew out a long breath. “Yeah, okay, that does make it tougher than a regular breakup. But . . . what were you going to do for the rest of your lives, anyway? Were you assuming that you’d always be a thing, and, I don’t know, get married, have little future-telling babies?”

“It doesn’t work like that,” I said, meaning David’s Oracle powers, but Bee nodded and said, “Exactly. Look at me and Brandon and you and Ryan, and Mary Beth and Ryan . . . your parents may have met in high school, Harper, but for most people, it doesn’t work like that. You and David were probably going to break up at some point.”

“I guess I could always ask him,” I tried to joke. “See if he knew this was coming.”

There was no way to explain to Bee how fast everything had been, how complicated. For people dealing with a guy who could see the future, we sure hadn’t spent much time thinking about it. We’d always been focused on the present, on getting through one day, and then the next . . .

And look where we’d ended up.

I turned back to the stage, where a girl was practicing what might have been a modern dance routine. There were a lot of jazz hands happening, and a costume that was way too short. She’d probably learned to dance at the Pine Grove School of Dance over by the highway. Mom had sent me and Leigh-Anne to the Pine Grove Performing Arts School for our dance classes, since, according to her, the performances at PGSOD were too risqué.

As I watched the girl onstage stick her leg up behind her ear, I had to acknowledge Mom might have been right.

Then I tried to picture myself in that girl’s place. Me. Onstage, in front of the whole town, doing a “talent,” twirling that stupid baton. Taking a deep breath, I pushed my shoulders back and made my way down the slight incline to the stage. There was a long table set up just in front of the first row of seats, and a woman sat behind it, stacks of paper in front of her.

“Miss Plumley?” I asked, Bee trailing beside me. The woman turned around, pushing her glossy dark hair out of her eyes with manicured nails. A ridiculously huge diamond sparkled on her left hand, nearly blinding me as it caught the lights from the stage, and I remembered hearing that Sara was engaged to Dr. Bennett, a new dentist in town.

Sara Plumley had been friends with Leigh-Anne when we were growing up, even though she’d been a few years older than my sister. Still, she’d gone to our church, and when Leigh-Anne had been on the cheerleading squad her freshman year, Sara had been a senior.

She’d also won Miss Pine Grove several years back, and now she seemed to be the main force keeping the pageant going.

When she saw me and Bee, Sara gave a good-natured eye roll. “Oh, for heaven’s saaaake, Harper,” she drawled. “Do not call me ‘Miss Plumley,’ please, not when I’m only a few years older than you. It’s always Sara.”

Her accent was so thick that it came out “Say-ra,” and I smiled, hugging her when she stood up.

“Okay, fine, Sara, then.”

“That’s better,” she said with a wink. Then she looked up at Bee.

“Beeee, darlin’, how are you? Didn’t your mama say you were at some sort of . . .” Her face clouded for a second. “What was it again? A camp?”

“Cheerleading camp,” Bee said quickly, and I hurried on before Sara could ask any more questions.

“So how is all of this going?” I nodded up at the stage, where a handful of girls were milling around.

Sara gave a wave of her hand. “The Lord is testing me, as usual. I swear, I would rather wrangle kittens than try to get a bunch of teenage girls to follow instructions, but what can you do?”

Her brown eyes narrowed slightly, taking in the two of us. “Are you girls here to volunteer? Because I am not gonna lie, I could use some help, especially from someone as organized as you, Harper. From the way I heard it, you practically ran Cotillion back in the fall.”

She shook her head, glossy waves falling over her shoulder. “Of course, not even you could hold off a freaking earthquake. What a mess.”

That was one word for it. But I smiled at Sara and shook my head. “Actually, we’re here to sign up. For the pageant.”

Sara’s heart-shaped face wrinkled in a frown. “Well, that’s real nice, honey, but sign-ups were last week. You know I love you, but I can’t let you join up this late. It wouldn’t be fair.”