The Way You Make Me Feel(6)

He made a face. “A speech? No.”

“Okay, good.” I faced the crowd again and stepped up to the microphone. “Dear wonderful classmates. I can’t believe I’ve finally become the queen of your hearts. I’ve dreamed, nay, prayed for this moment since I was a little girl.” Several people laughed. Rose cleared her throat loudly behind me. I kept going. “I promise you, that in my reign as queen for the next two hours, I will keep things interesting. Things will not be boring.” I looked over at Felix by the side of the stage, nodding slightly. “It will truly be an honor.”

As soon as the word was out of my mouth, something cold and wet doused the top of my head, knocking my crown off into my hands. Within seconds, I was covered head to toe in blood.

Some people screamed, a few laughed. I blinked, the fake blood dripping off my eyelashes. When I glanced to my right, I saw Felix immediately dart off. Excellent. I smiled, and I could feel the red liquid slip over my bared teeth. My head turned toward everyone slowly, and I raised my arms. The laughter turned nervous.

And now for the finale. Dramatically holding up my crown, I opened my mouth to let out a scream, but before I could, someone shoved me so hard from the left that I toppled over, slipping in the blood.

I wiped off my face and saw Rose Carver towering over me, her gold heels planted on the bloody stage somewhat precariously. What in the WORLD? Before I could react, she bent over and snatched the crown from my hand.

She pointed it at me, as if brandishing a sword. “You. Little. Freak.” The word was picked up by the microphone, and it reverberated throughout the cafeteria. You could hear a pin drop.

Laughter bubbled out of me, uncontrollable. This was going so much better than planned! I knew Rose was uptight, but this was new levels of cray. I pushed myself off the floor, my hands slipping a little. I could see a few teachers headed for the stage. “You’re totally going to get suspended for that,” I said gleefully.

The fireballs in her eyes were growing huge. “You think this is funny? Is everything a joke to you? You ruined prom!”

I rolled my eyes, reached over, and snatched the crown from her. “Get a life.” I was about to place it back on my head when Rose’s hands grasped for mine.

I held on to the tiara, enjoying watching her struggle to stay balanced. But then one of those beautiful heels slipped, and she knocked into me. We crashed onto the floor, me backward, and a sharp pain shot up my back as she fell on top of me with a surprised oof.

“Get off,” I screeched, feeling panicky—being smashed by a five-foot-nine ballerina made of pure muscle was on my top ten list of nightmares. I struggled to push her off.

“I’m trying!” she screamed. But she punctuated that by kneeing me in the stomach.

“OW!” I yelled.

“Sorry, I didn’t—”

But it was too late. I grabbed a fistful of her short hair. “I’m sick of this!” I yelled. She screamed again, grabbing my wrists. We were both covered in blood, so it was hard for her to hold on to me.

“Clara! Rose! Stop this immediately!” Mr. Sinclair yelled, his voice sounding far away.

Someone grabbed hold of Rose’s shoulders, but she shook them off, still holding on to me fiercely. My breathing quickened, and my heart pounded so hard that I felt its vibrations in my jaw. “I can’t breathe!” I cried out.

“I don’t care!” Rose growled as she let go of one of my wrists to take another swipe at my crown. The crown was smushed behind my head at this point, poking my scalp. Everything was starting to hurt, and my panic was rising.

“Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!” I screamed. There were a few people onstage now, dragging us apart. Just as I was freed from Rose’s death grip, my right foot got tangled up in some cables on the floor. Rose took that moment of vulnerability to lunge toward me again, pulling herself away from a couple of teachers who were holding on to her. Her arms were stretched out, and one of them got caught in the dangling chain on a lantern.

The lantern crashed onto the floor. We both looked at it momentarily before a stage light also came crashing down between us. I froze and Rose hopped back from it. The glass lens shattered and sparks flew—into the fake blood surrounding us. Then the blood caught on fire. No way.

People started to scream, and Mr. Sinclair ran over to the flames, taking his blazer off in one swoop and batting at the fire.

An English teacher named Ms. Leung ran up to the mic and cried, “Everyone remain calm but slowly start making your way to the exits in an orderly and—”

The stampede of feet and people screaming drowned out the rest of her words.

I was headed down the steps when the dark blue curtain hanging to my left burst into flames. I jumped back and yelled, “Good God!”

Someone pushed me toward the stairs. “Hurry, you idiot!” Rose screamed from behind me.

We both scrambled off the stage with the teachers behind us, including Mr. Sinclair, who had left his blazer up onstage, now a little ball of fire surrounded by burning fake blood.

I took one last glance before being rushed out of the cafeteria, the cool night air hitting my face at the same time I heard the sirens.





CHAPTER 4

The principal’s office was far enough away from the cafeteria that it didn’t smell like smoke. Instead it smelled like stale coffee and a barfy cinnamon pumpkin Yankee Candle.