Spellbound - Cara Lynn Shultz [104]
“Oh, yeah, thanks,” I mumbled as Brendan slid the soft fabric off my shoulders. I suddenly felt very naked, and looked up. And there it was: Kristin was back—and her lips, freshly painted with a baby-pink gloss, were twisted in a self-satisfied grin as she stared at me. I wanted to look away, but I was kind of amazed. I’d never seen someone look so smug and venomous at the same time before. It was like she’d invented a whole new facial expression to convey just how much she wanted to run me over with a car. Maybe she was driving that taxi?
She looked me up and down, then turned to Amanda and whispered something in her ear. They both laughed, staring right at me. Yeah right, like that wasn’t about me.
I smoothed my skirt self-consciously. “Are you sure I look okay?” I asked Brendan. He barely looked at me before darting his green eyes over to Kristin, who had just linked arms with a blond, goateed guy I didn’t recognize. Then he sighed unhappily.
“Emma, don’t even compare yourself to them. It’s like comparing a diamond to…I don’t know…a booger,” he said, and I burst out laughing.
“Thanks,” I said, feeling some of that you-don’t-belong-here uneasiness shed as he kissed my cheek.
“Sorry, I’m going to be distracted for a minute,” Brendan apologized, putting on his headphones and fiddling with his laptop. I sat in one of the folding chairs nearest the makeshift deejay booth, pretending to be engrossed in something on my cell phone when the gym was filled with a loud dance track. I looked up and Brendan was adjusting the levels on his equipment, scrutinizing something on his computer screen. After what seemed like an hour—but was really only about three minutes—Brendan put down the headphones, sitting next to me.
“Do you want to dance?”
I eyed the still-sparse crowd in the gym. “Not just yet, thanks.”
Brendan nodded his head toward the deejay booth. “Any requests?”
I glanced over at Kristin, who was engrossed in something her blond was saying. “Got any Slayer?” I asked hopefully, and Brendan chuckled.
Within twenty minutes, the gym was packed. I didn’t know how many people came with friends or dates or even solo, but Brendan had been right—this was a platform for my classmates to show off. I doubted anyone’s glittering earrings or bracelets were rhinestones. But then I’d look down at my own sparkling sapphire ring and smile. The more I looked, the more I started to wonder if the sapphire was bringing out my witch skills.
I decided to test it out, staring at one of the tealights, and willing it to blow out. The flame flickered for a moment before extinguishing. I gasped, then I noticed the brunette standing next to it who had sneezed and blown it out, making a face when she smelled the smoke. Oops. Guess Angelique really was the key when we made the wind blow in her room.
I looked around the dance floor, trying to move things and inevitably, I would lock eyes with Kristin for longer than was comfortable. It felt like she was keeping tabs on me.
When the coast was clear—meaning, Kristin had left the gym to apply another coat of her face spackle—I offered to get us some drinks, sticking to the edge of the packed dance floor so I wouldn’t spill the nonalcoholic champagnelike cocktails in my hands. On the way back, I stopped to watch Brendan in action. It was an oddly proud moment for me—he was good. He switched between MP3s and vinyl effortlessly, his talented hands almost a blur as he ensured that the music never stopped. When I returned to his side, Brendan leaned in and gave me a kiss on the cheek, taking the drink gratefully and downing it in one shot.
“Thanks, it’s getting hot back here,” he said, shrugging out of his jacket. For the next few songs, he deejayed with one hand, keeping his other on the small of my back. I didn’t know what it was like to be prom queen, but I couldn’t imagine that it felt better