Miss Mayhem (Rebel Belle #2)(55)

There was only so much a girl could take.

Except apparently the universe wasn’t through screwing with me, because when Abi glanced toward the back of the auditorium, I saw someone standing in the doorway.

David.

“I . . . I’m sorry for the yelling,” I told Abi, ignoring her when she asked, “What did you mean about Spencer?” and moved up the aisle toward where David still hovered.

It was stupid to feel embarrassed, but David seeing me in my leotard left me feeling weirdly exposed, and not because of all the skin on display. The old David would have watched me with twitching lips before making some kind of annoying joke about how I clearly had a future in leading parades. But now, it was like he wasn’t seeing the costume. He was wearing a long-sleeved shirt in a shockingly nonoffensive shade of blue that brought out the color of his eyes.

Holy crap. His eyes.

When I looked closely, I could see light glowing there. Not brightly, but still there and not a reflection.

With a sigh, David whipped off his glasses, replacing them with a pair of sunglasses that he had hanging in the front of his shirt. “I’m guessing you can see it?” he asked, and I stepped closer. Behind me, I could hear the stereo system blasting “Yankee Doodle Dandy,” so I knew the little kids were still practicing.

Momentarily distracted by that, David gazed past me before shaking his head slightly. “This place is—”

“It’s a total freak show,” I confirmed. “But we can worry about that later. Why are your eyes all . . . like that?”

Reaching up, David ruffled his hair. “They just are, okay?”

“That is like the least acceptable answer in the history of unacceptable things, most of which, I should add, involve your wardrobe,” I told him, folding my arms and trying not to notice the clatter of plastic gemstones. “David, what’s going on?”

For all that his eyes were freaking me out, I wished I could see them right now. I could read a lot in his face—the tightness of his mouth told me he was going to be stubborn about this, the tugging at his hair meant he was nervous—but his eyes would’ve told me more. How freaked out he was, for example.

“I’ve been trying some things,” he said, and I blew out a breath that ruffled my bangs. A few days ago, I’d thought about how much I didn’t like him alone in that house, obsessively going through Saylor’s things. Hadn’t I thrown myself into time with Bee and pageant practice to distract me from our breakup? What had David been distracting himself with? It wasn’t like he could see the future anymore, after all. Alexander had seen to that.

But if that was the case, why the heck were his eyes Oracled out? Again, I remembered him in the Fun House, floating in front of me, his eyes nothing but that golden light.

My knife at his throat.

Pushing that image away, I leaned in closer. “What kind of things?”

He’d tugged his sleeves over his hands. The music had stopped now, and I could hear Sara calling for all the Miss Pine Grove girls, but I kept my gaze on David. “What. Kind. Of. Things?” I repeated, and David looked straight at me. Even through the dark lenses of his glasses, I could see the twin sparks of light there.

“Visions,” he said in a low voice. “Alexander’s spell doesn’t work anymore.”

That startled me so much that my baton nearly slipped from my suddenly numb fingers. “What?” was all I could manage, and David’s mouth turned down at the corners. For the first time, I noticed that he looked even thinner, paler. Almost like he was fading away right in front of me.

“I don’t know why or how,” he continued, “but the other night, I . . . I saw something.”

I opened my mouth to ask what, but David held up a hand before I could. “It wasn’t clear. It was like before, when my visions were all muddled and cloudy. But I think . . . I think with help . . .”

It was my turn to hold up a hand. “Even if Ryan and I did try to help you have a vision, Alexander would know, right? He’d . . .Who knows what he’d do? That could disqualify me from the Peirasmos. It could kill me. Or you, or—”

But David shook his head. “This will work,” he insisted. “And think about it—if I can override his powers, maybe I could override . . . I don’t know, everything. Maybe this could end. If Alexander doesn’t have any power over me, he doesn’t have any power over you either.”

It was tempting. Really tempting. But if David was wrong . . .

Like he could read my mind, David reached out and took my hand. His skin on mine felt familiar and good, and I fought the urge to let my fingers curl around his.

“Pres,” he started, then moved in closer. “Harper. Trust me.”

Behind me, Sara called my name, and I thought of what this would mean. I’d have to talk to Ryan, of course, and Bee, too, probably, since this affected her. The four of us—my two ex-boyfriends and my maybe-ex-best-friend—would have to work together.

It would be scary and hard and, if David was wrong, quite possibly fatal.

But in spite of all that, I squeezed David’s hand and nodded.





Chapter 28


I’M SURE there have been more awkward car rides than the one we took out to the golf course to have David’s vision.

I mean, Aunt May once told me a story about a funeral where the limo company screwed up and sent the same car for her cousin Roderick’s wife and his mistress, and they had to ride to the cemetery together. That was probably worse than this ride.