Spellbound - Cara Lynn Shultz [56]
She furrowed her brows, confused.
“I’ll bookmark the pages,” I said. “If you can, I’d love for you to take a look.”
I paused as Mr. D walked into the classroom, then faced her again.
“Oh, and that whole ‘marked by the spirit world’ thing?” I whispered. “I’m pretty sure someone’s trying to warn me or tell me something in other ways.” I thought of the flickering bathroom light and felt my stomach flip.
Angelique’s jaw dropped. “I knew it!” Then she stopped and put her head on her chin, her dark-painted lips turned into a frown. “I wish a spirit would make contact with me,” she whined.
“Um, nope. You really don’t,” I muttered. “You absolutely don’t.”
“I’ll read them tonight,” Angelique promised. “Just leave your locker open and I’ll grab them during my free period.”
After chem, I returned to my dungeon to remove the lock—and I spied something sticking out of my locker. A note.
Emma
I’ll be back on Saturday. I’d like to see you, if that’s okay. I feel like we should talk—someplace where the entire school isn’t eavesdropping.
Brendan
P.S.—Please don’t beat anyone up until then.
I snickered. Brendan went on to leave his number. I carefully folded the note and tucked it away in my backpack. I wondered how long I was supposed to wait to call him. Right after school? Tomorrow? My questions were answered for me when I got home and stretched out on my bed, my schoolwork spread out in front of me. I was passed out, nose in my Latin book, by 4:00 p.m.
Chapter 11
I woke up at 8:00 p.m. and freaked out when I saw the time. Jumping out of bed, I frantically dug through my backpack for my cell phone. When I couldn’t find it, I turned the whole thing upside down, emptying pens, loose-leaf and computer CDs all over the floor.
No cell phone. “Son of a…” I said out loud, looking up…and seeing it on my nightstand.
I smoothed out his note and dialed the numbers, trying to calm my somewhat frazzled breathing. Great, voice mail.
“Hey, Brendan, it’s Emma. I’m free all day Saturday, so let’s get together. I agree, we should…talk. Um, talk to you later. Yeah. Okay. Bye.”
After I left the (completely awkward) message, I freaked out. What if he deliberately sent me to voice mail? What if he regrets giving me his number? I decided to calm my raw nerves with a shower—which is where I was when he called back. The voice mail was filled with static, but hearing his deep voice rumbling through my phone still sent shivers down my spine.
“Emma, it’s Brendan. My cell reception sucks where I am. Meet me at the corner of Seventy-ninth and Fifth on Saturday. I’ll be there at six. Text me back if that’s cool with you. See you Saturday.”
I decided to keep our meeting—I didn’t feel comfortable calling it a date—a secret from my friends. Besides, Angelique and I had business to attend to.
On Friday afternoon, she and I sat in Cosmo’s Pizza. There were two pizzerias near school, and I opted for the one with the worse pizza—we knew it wouldn’t be crowded with Vince A students—and I didn’t want anyone overhearing our conversation.
“I read the tale of Aglaeon,” Angelique began hesitantly. “How can I put this? Do you feel like you’re Gloriana?”
“I feel like I’m eating crazy sandwiches,” I said, nodding.
“But Gloriana was a peasant, and the impression I got is that Archer didn’t want Gloriana coming back as some rich chick. He really, really hated those society ladies, or whatever you call them.” Angelique paused, taking off one of her stacked silver bangles and spinning it on the table. “I don’t mean this in a bad way, but your aunt is on the board at school and she’s kind of rich. And your mom is at some fancy job in Tokyo. You’re hardly what I’d call peasant material.”
I took a deep breath. I figured if she didn’t think I was crazy about this fairy tale, she’d forgive my earlier fables. I had told Cisco the truth, but so far, he was the only one who knew my real story, the very unfairy-tale start to my life.
“Yeah, about that….”