Winter Fire (The Witchling #3)(42)

“Hi. I’m Adam. I, uh, was wondering if you’d like to go to the fundraiser dinner with me tomorrow night?” he asked.

Tall and nerdy. Safe. The kind of guy her brother tried to get her to date more than once. Morgan crossed her arms.

“Did my brother send you up?” she asked.

“No,” he replied. “My girlfriend left for the holidays, and Beck said he thought you might need a date.”

“Need a date?” she demanded. “Why would I need a date?”

“What?” Red crept up his face, and he ducked his head. “No, I mean … I guess I need a date, and he said you’re free. I thought you might need one, too.”

She wanted to ask why Beck hadn’t asked her then remembered: she wasn’t blonde. Wounded once more, Morgan sighed. Adam was cute, in a geeky way, and clearly not interested in her, if he had a girlfriend. He was asking because there were no other options. Worse, Beck made the assumption no one else had bothered to ask her, either. Like it was common knowledge that she wasn’t going to have a date. It made her angry that he assumed something like that. What if she didn’t want a date?

It didn’t matter that she didn’t know anything about this charity dinner before Adam invited her to go.

“So you’ll go with me?” Adam asked, uncomfortable.

“You act like you don’t want me to say yes,” she observed.

“It’s awkward. I have a girlfriend but she’s gone, and I hate these things.”

“Then why go?”

“My parents do business with Beck’s. We kids have to go. You’re kinda funny, so I thought you’d make it less painful.”

“Hhmmmm,” she said, considering. He was honest, if nothing else. He wasn’t asking because he was interested, but because he wanted someone to go with him.

“Besides, you can set the table or something on fire, like a distraction, so we can escape early.”

Morgan smiled. “Just as friends?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

He looked surprised. For a moment, he said nothing.

“It’s at one of the ski lodges up here. It starts at seven. We can leave here at six-thirty,” he said. “It’s dressy. Is that okay?”

Morgan considered. She brought the prom dress she wore last year with the intent of wearing it again this year. It wouldn’t matter that it was the same, when she was in a new school. Then again, she planned on leaving in two weeks, so she wouldn’t be wearing it at prom anyway.

“I’ll be ready,” she said.

“Oh, good.” He appeared genuinely pleased. “I’ll see you later.”

He left.

Adam seemed happy she was going without being really interested in taking her. Morgan stared after him. Maybe every witchling male was weird? If her father, Connor and Beck were accurate examples, then she began to think there was something off about witchling men.

Was Beck trying to set her up with someone? Was this his way of telling her that he wasn’t interested, after kissing her last night and acting like he was?

There was no way of thinking about the exchange that left her anything but perplexed.

She went to her closet to check her dress. It might need ironing. She’d been too anxious about the judge or her father keeping her in New York that she packed in a matter of a couple minutes.

Opening the closet door, she examined her dress with a critical eye. True, it was better suited to warm weather than winter, but it didn’t look to be in too bad of shape. A warm iron should fix it. If not, she might be able to steam out the wrinkles. The mermaid-style dress was black and white with a sash the color of her hair: red. It was fitted to mid-thigh then flared into ruffles that reached her ankles. She had no idea if it was formal enough, but she had no other option, either.

She wasn’t going to sweat it. The dress fit well, and she’d look decent in it. If she went wrinkled or in something that was off-season, she didn’t care. If Beck wanted her there, he would’ve asked her, and Adam seemed only to be concerned about not going alone. She didn’t care enough about impressing people, and seeing Beck with another girl – probably the blonde …

“This is gonna suck,” she said to herself.





Chapter Twelve


Beck had hoped not to have class with Morgan the next morning. He’d been good about avoiding her during school, but he ran out of excuses to ditch and showed up in Advanced Magick just as Amber started. Morgan was seated in the middle of class. She was texting someone, and when Biji started giggling, he figured out who.

“Phones away, girls,” Amber said cheerfully. “Morgan, you did your homework again today?”

“Yes, Amber.”

“Two days in a row. Now we’re getting somewhere!”

Beck smiled at Amber’s pleased look. So his talk with Morgan made somewhat of a difference, though he wasn’t certain if it would matter when she turned eighteen.

Amber started collecting the projects the students completed as homework. Morgan held up a glass ball, and Amber looked at it critically.

“I’m afraid to ask what this is supposed to be,” she said.

“It’s a snowflake,” Morgan said. “On fire.”

Beck choked on a laugh.