Empire High Betrayal(72)

I felt myself shrinking, trying to blend into the fog on the floor.

“Do you want me to spill my drink down the front of her?” Kennedy asked as she took a sip from her goblet.

“No.” I turned away from the door. “God, how did she figure out that I was dressing up as Sandy?”

“I guess the odds of it being a coincidence are pretty slim.”

“There’s no coincidence when it comes to Isabella.”

“I swear I didn’t say anything,” Kennedy said.

“I know. I wasn’t implying that you did. I just…” I sighed. “This really sucks.”

“At least you know what she had up her sleeve for tonight. Don’t let her bother you. She’s just trying to get under your skin.”

Well, she’d succeeded.

“You need a distraction,” said Kennedy. “And I have the perfect one. Guess what Felix just told me?”

“What?”

“That it’s actually official. He’s done with his drug business. He sold his list of clients to Danny Zuko.”

I must have looked confused because she pointed to the door.

I turned to see Cupcake who was dressed up as Danny Zuko from Grease. He was wearing the classic white t-shirt and leather jacket. He even had an unlit cigarette dangling out of the corner of his mouth. They did a couples costume? Why didn’t I think of that?

But it was better that Matt wasn’t dressed like Danny Zuko. Because he’d be a hotter Danny Zuko than Cupcake. And it would be clear to everyone that the hotter Danny should be with the hotter Sandy. Was that Isabella’s plan? To somehow woo him away with a couples costume square off? If so, she was going to be disappointed. Because I had no clue who Matt was dressing up as.

Crap. What if he was dressing up like Danny Zuko to surprise me?

“Oh no. She’s coming this way. Come on,” Kennedy said and pulled me toward the pumpkin patch.

But it was no use. Isabella’s demon eyes had lasered in on me and there was no hiding. Even though we tried to hide behind the big pumpkins and the giant cauldron.

“Are you running from me, Sissy?” Isabella asked.

I tried not to groan as I turned around. “What? No.” I stepped away from the fog tumbling down from the cauldron.

“Good evening, Kennedy,” Isabella said. “You better watch your drink tonight. Who knows what someone might try to slip into it.”

Kennedy laughed, even though it sounded forced. “Go to hell, Wizzy.”

Isabella glowered at her. “You can call me Sandy for the night. What do you think of my outfit?” She did a stupid little twirl. “Oh no.” She put her hand to her cheek in mock surprise. “Sissy, are you dressed up like Sandy too?” She leaned forward and squinted at me like it was hard to tell. “How utterly embarrassing for you. Don’t tell me Matt’s dressed like Danny? That would be…such a travesty for you. Especially if he and I win best costume together.”

So that was her game? She wanted to win best costume with my fiancé? Kennedy was right. Isabella could go to hell.

“And if you think this is bad,” Isabella said, “then just you wait. Because I will definitely be wearing white to your wedding. Not that you’ll ever make it to the altar.”

I swallowed hard. She didn’t necessarily say that I’d be dead. But she was staring at me like I’d be dead. “Dad won’t let you do anything to me. And he won’t let you wear white at my wedding.”

“You call him Dad now, huh? How quaint. I don’t know, Sissy. I’m the one living at home. While you’re out on the street.”

I’d hardly call living with the Caldwells being out on the street. I jumped when I heard a little bark.

“Sir Wilfred, bad dog,” Isabella hissed when her evil little dog pranced over to me.

Who brought a dog to a party? He was going to get trampled. I went to pick him up but Isabella beat me to it. She pulled Sir Wilfred to her chest.

“Bad dog,” she said again. “How many times do I have to tell you to not mingle with trash? Stupid mutt.”

Sir Wilfred whimpered in her arms.

I pressed my lips together. Sir Wilfred was growing on me. Every time Isabella was mean to him, I loved him a little more. And I hated that she treated him just like she treated me. It looked like he was shivering in her arms. Probably because her hands were so freaking cold. Or maybe he was just scared of her like I was.

“Isabella, there’s a gate in the backyard. Why don’t you let Sir Wilfred play out there during the party?” I would have offered to let him stay in my room. But then all my clothes would somehow get cut up. I reached out and petted his cute little furry head.

“Sir Wilfred is not a peasant,” she snapped and pulled him away from me. “God, now he’s dirty.” She dropped Sir Wilfred back onto the ground like he was diseased from my touch.

This had to be animal cruelty. “Isabella, I don’t think Dad would…”

“Let me just stop you right there. Daddy doesn’t care what you think. At all. He loves me most. And he’ll always believe me over you.”

I couldn’t pull a prank on her. But I could stand up to her. She may have been a better Sandy. But that didn’t mean she was better than me. And it certainly didn’t mean our dad loved her more. He couldn’t possibly. And it was about time I pushed her off her high horse. But I didn’t have time to think about what to say. Because suddenly Old Time Rock and Roll started blaring through the speakers right behind us.