Bookishly Ever After (Ever After #1)(13)

“Earth to Phoebe.” Dev actually waved a hand in front of my face.

“Having an Aedan moment?” Grace asked wickedly.

Dev looked from Grace to me back to Grace. “Who’s Aedan?”

I blew air through my lips and contemplated kicking Grace in the shin. Before I could say anything, Alec answered for me.

“It’s an in-joke.” He took a bite of hoagie and didn’t bother to finish chewing before continuing. “The girls are all kinds of screwed up.” He swallowed and looked around me at Dev. “Anyway, that zombie Phantom sounds like something I’d watch. Does he try to eat the girl?”

“Gaston Leroux is rolling over in his grave right now over what you’re doing to his story,” I muttered, even though I was just happy Alec had changed the subject.

Em steepled and twiddled her fingers, evil-style. “Just like a zombie would. Perfect.”

As soon as Dev left the table, Em moved back over and nudged me with her elbow. “See, I told you. He likes you.” Thank God he probably didn’t hear her over the din of the emptying lunchroom.

I looked at her with narrowed eyes. “No. He came to the table because you dragged him here, just like you told him to borrow the book from me. You’re so dying for me to get a boyfriend that you think everyone likes me.”

“I’m not in love with you,” Alec threw over his shoulder before disappearing into the crowd.

“And you’re not my type,” Grace added to me in amusement as she walked around the table to join us.

I shot her a sour glare. “Shut up.”

Grace stuck her perfectly manicured nails into my arm to keep both me and Em from leaving. When I tried to pull free, she fixed me with a death glare that I swear must be handed out to cheerleaders with their pom-poms. “So, what haven’t you both been telling me? This whole lunch period was like a bad teen drama.”

“Nothing—”

Em cut me off while deftly extracting herself from Grace’s clutches. “Dev totally has the hots for Feebs, Feebs refuses to believe it because she’s completely oblivious, and Kris is a tool who doesn’t even know you exist,” —that last part was directed at me— “so you have to give up on him.”

“Well, that explains why you looked like someone put cat litter in your sandwich. You’re so Snow White innocent, it’s actually kinda cute.” Grace said with a laugh. “Em’s probably right. The social mirroring, the unnecessary touching you…”

“Social what?”

“Mirroring. It’s where someone unconsciously copies what you do. But don’t change the subject.”

“I’m not changing the subject—” I started to protest.

“Why are you complaining?”

I groaned and yanked my arm free. “I’m going to be late to history.” Since Grace was in the same class that period, I added, “And I need to stop at my locker.” Before they could say anything else, I made myself disappear into the flood of people still trying to get through the lunchroom doors. Tomorrow, I promised myself, I was eating in the band room.

Grace slid into the desk next to mine. “I have practice all week, and a game on Saturday, but you’re coming to my house on Sunday and you’re getting a makeover. Em enlisted me and my unquestionably awesome skills.”

I scrunched my nose at her and flipped open my history book. “Why are you letting Em push you around, too?”

“Because she doesn’t know her eyeliner from mascara. I do.” She shrugged. “It might be fun, and a little bit of change never hurt anyone. Besides, unlike either of you, I can tell whether a girl is hot enough to date.” She winked at me.

I tried not to feel too insulted by that. “Won’t Leia get jealous of you making me ‘hot’?” I joked. “I hear those Haddontowne Academy girls are really possessive.”

“You’ll never be that hot. Trust me.” She pulled out a pink plaid notebook and matching pen. “So, Sunday? I promise to make it as painless as possible.”

“I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“Look, I really don’t give a crap if you date Dev or Kris or Em, for that matter, but I think you probably could use some girly pampering time that doesn’t have anything to do with bubble baths and books. Or yarn. Or Em shoving guys at you.” She held up her hand to keep me from talking, “It’s less about how you look and more about giving you some time away from your everyday stuff. We get to hang out and talk. And if you learn a little bit about how to make the perfect cat’s eye in the process, that’s just a bonus.”

I reached over and hugged Grace quickly before our history teacher started the class. “Thanks. I’ll skip the makeover, but I’ll take the Grace time.”

“If I were you, I’d at least consider a tiny something. Step one would be to get your hair back to one color so it stops looking like you painted red camoflauge spots on your head.”

“I hate you.”

“Shh, class is about to start.” Grace sat up straight, pen poised over her notebook, and stared at the board like a perfect blonde angel.





7


I loved new books. The crisp pages, the smell, and the sense of potential as I carefully broke in the spine made getting them one of the best feelings in the world. Getting one at a book launch with the actual author—an even better feeling. Getting one at a book launch with the actual author when the author is a rock star flying around the country to release the third book in her four book series and has a crowd of fans sitting outside the bookstore and waiting for hours to meet her? Electric.