Sweet Evil (The Sweet Trilogy #1)(9)

“Oh.” Veronica glanced at them again with less appreciation this time, and we shared a polite smile. She had short dark hair and a Grecian nose with a slight arch to it. When she caught me looking at her nose I was stunned by the wave of dark self-loathing that came off her before she turned back around to face her friends. Of course, the feature she hated most about herself was the one I thought made her naturally seductive in a way I could never dream of being.

Scott turned in his desk toward me.

“So what are you doing next Friday, shorty?”

“Nada,” I answered.

“Huh?” His look of confusion made me smile.

“Nada,” I said again. “You know. It means ‘nothing’ in Spanish?”

“Oh. Yeah. See, you must be under the impression I pay attention in here or something. Anyway, you wanna come to a party? Gene’s folks have a lake house.”

My stomach jumped. “Wow, that’s cool. I don’t know, though.” I leaned my elbow on the desk and pretended to study the graffiti etched into the wood.

“Jay’s invited, too. Come on, we’ve never partied together.” I probably would have felt very uncomfortable if it had been anyone other than Scott giving me that dreamy look. I glanced at his emotions. Happy. Hopeful. Slightly lustful. I couldn’t help but be flattered by his invitation and apparent interest.

“I guess I can talk to Jay about it,” I said, leaving out the fact that it was Patti I’d have to convince. “But you know that I don’t really party, as in party party.” I couldn’t even make eye contact after saying such a lame thing, but I didn’t want him having any false expectations.

“Yeah, I know,” he said. “Why is that?”

How could I explain it? I didn’t have any nagging judgment toward my peers for drinking and partying. I knew it was innocent rebellion and self-exploration. But there was always a promise of dangerous excitement I strongly desired. Ironically, it was that desire that repelled me.

“Are you scared?” he asked.

“Kind of,” I admitted. “I don’t like the fact that it might make me do something I wouldn’t normally do.”

“That’s the fun of it. It makes you open and free.”

Open and free. I wondered if that was how Danny Lawrence had felt when he passed out on the lawn of a party last year and the other drunk guys thought it would be funny to stand around peeing on him. Or the most terrible thing that happened over Christmas break, which nobody talked about at Cass—the senior girl who was high and drove off the road, killing her best friend in the passenger seat. Had she been feeling bold? Every time I saw her walking the halls in a black cloud of remorse, I wanted to cry for her.

“I guess I’m just boring,” I mumbled.

I was ready to close down this conversation. I looked up at the clock, thankful to see the bell was about to ring.

“Trust me, Anna.” Scott leaned in. “One drink in you, or one hit of X, and you’ll feel anything but boring.”

Everything inside of me tightened. X. Ecstasy. The word bounced around in my head like a rubber ball, out of control and impossible to catch. My dark undercurrent stirred with craving and my breathing quickened. I didn’t like to acknowledge that darkness. It rose at any mention of drugs and alcohol. And to be honest, it was what had drawn me to Jay last year. I saw something similar in him, though not exactly the same.

A dark strand ran under the surface of his emotions. It was always there, threatening, especially at the mention of alcohol. I didn’t know what it meant, but I wanted us in it together. I thought I might be able to help him, or protect him. A funny thought, considering he was a brawny guy.

I looked at Scott, who grinned at me. Not a sinister grin, but an I-want-to-experience-something-with-you grin.

Veronica must have caught wind of our hushed conversation, because she turned and gave a conspiratorial smile to the two of us.

“Are you going to the party, Anna?” she asked.

“I don’t know, maybe.”

“You should come! It’s gonna be crazy. Everyone will be there.”

I looked down and traced the wooden grooves in the desk with my pencil’s eraser. Could I get away with changing the subject?

“So, I’m turning sixteen on Wednesday. I’m getting my license.”

“I am so jealous!” Veronica said, smacking my desk. “I’ve been sixteen for three months already, and my dad still hasn’t let me get mine! I’m pretty sure he hates me. Are you getting a car?”

“Uh, no.” Not even close.

Everyone jumped up and grabbed their things as the bell rang, and the tension that held a viselike grip on my neck finally relaxed its vicious fingers and released me.

CHAPTER THREE

SWEET-SIXTEEN SURPRISE

I didn’t feel any older when I woke up on Wednesday morning. Patti was out on our small balcony with her coffee and newspaper. She snapped to attention, and her face brightened when she saw me.

Something misty hovered beside her like a ghost. I pressed my fingers to my eyes, but when I took them away it was still there. It was about the same size as her, maybe longer, like a fuzzy white shadow. Had I developed another sight? Please, no. I’d learned to fear the acquisition of new abilities; like the choking horror of smoke from a mile away, each came with some fresh disadvantage.