Winging It, Page 6

  ‘That’s okay. We’ll go take care of that first, then do the visioning session. After dinner, if we have to.’ Meagan was trying to accommodate me, which said a lot either about how nice she is or about how long we’ve been pals. ‘Where do you have to go?’

  She obviously thought I had a dentist’s appointment or something. I felt my gut knot, because there was no avoiding what I had to say. I couldn’t exactly ask Isabelle about the ring with Meagan present. It was pure dragon biz. ‘Um … I have to visit someone. Alone.’

  I just wanted to stop her before she planned everything, but I handled it badly. She tensed and I knew I’d hurt her feelings.

  Again.

  ‘I see.’ Her tone said it all. ‘And I suppose that if you’re still staying with us on Halloween, you’ll go to Trevor’s party alone, too?’

  ‘I told you I’m not going to his party—’

  ‘Don’t lie to me, Zoë!’ Meagan snapped. ‘It’s bad enough that you won’t tell me things.’

  ‘But I swear I can’t tell you …’

  ‘No, you won’t tell me.’ She grabbed the door and hauled it open. ‘I suppose it’s better to find out who your real friends are.’

  It would have been great if I’d thought of the perfect reply, but instead I just stood there with my mouth hanging open.

  And you know what happened next.

  ‘Meagan!’ Jessica called and waved from down the hall. ‘Did you solve the bonus questions from math?’

  Meagan grinned. ‘Even better! I have the coolest thing to tell you. You’ll never guess what I saw yesterday.’

  And they were gone, speculating on the identity of the dragon kid in our school, leaving me behind – me, who could have told them the real story, if it hadn’t been for the stupid Covenant. Even if there was a marginal chance of my not getting exiled, it depended upon my playing by my dad’s rules in the short term. Just the scorch of that dragonsmoke had been enough to convince me that he was serious about reinforcing the rules.

  Even on me.

  Derek appeared in my peripheral vision when I was opening my locker.

  ‘Fight?’ he asked. I didn’t have to ask what he meant. I knew he must have been watching our exchange.

  ‘Kind of.’ I shrugged, as if it would blow over. ‘How was the game?’

  ‘Central won.’ He didn’t sound surprised.

  I wasn’t either.

  We ran out of conversation at that point. I got my books for the morning classes, sure that he’d leave.

  He didn’t.

  He cleared his throat. For the first time I’d ever noticed, Derek looked uncomfortable. He almost shuffled his feet. That made me curious as to what he wanted to say. ‘So, they say you draw.’

  Now I was the one watching him intently. ‘Some. Yeah.’

  Those eyes were icy blue, his gaze fixed on me. ‘Dragons.’

  I swallowed, feeling like I was under a microscope. ‘Usually.’ I felt myself blushing. ‘Call it a weakness.’

  ‘I don’t.’ I wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but he was digging in his bag. He offered a new notebook to me, as if he thought I’d refuse to take it. ‘Draw me one?’

  Kids asked me to do this all the time, to embellish one of their notebooks with a dragon. For some reason, Derek’s request felt different, maybe just because he was different.

  Intense. That was the word for him.

  Like the weight of the world was hanging on my decision.

  Or maybe I was making too much of it.

  I tried to shake off my sense of foreboding. ‘Sure,’ I said, as if it was no big deal.

  It wasn’t.

  At least it shouldn’t have been.

  ‘Gotta get in line early,’ he said, to my surprise. ‘Haven’t you heard?’ He was studying me again. ‘Everyone’s talking about the dragon who spooked Suzanne.’ He jerked his head toward the bathroom, scene of the crime, which was closed off.

  ‘Oh, I did hear something,’ I said, trying to sound disinterested.

  ‘I thought you’d be all over that story, since it stars a dragon.’

  I blushed. Again. ‘I like them better in fiction.’

  ‘Really?’ He couldn’t have sounded more skeptical.

  I changed the subject. ‘So, any preferences? Flying? Perching?’

  ‘Kicking butt.’ He spoke with resolve. ‘I want to see a dragon kicking some bully’s ass.’

  My mouth went dry. I had those prickles on the back of my neck again.

  There couldn’t be any way that Derek knew my secret.

  Could there?

  He looked one more time into my eyes, hard, as if he was trying to tell me something. I couldn’t think what it might be. I couldn’t think of a thing to say.

  Not one thing.

  Derek smiled a little, that secret smile he seemed to keep especially for me, then turned and walked away. I stared after him, wondering.

  Was Derek intense because he liked me? It was an astonishing possibility. I’d never had a guy like me at school before. In fact, I had so far shown a talent for liking guys who didn’t like me back. Or ran hot and cold about liking me back.

  But Derek seemed to be interested. And he kept coming to talk to me. I didn’t think it was just about a dragon drawing. He also didn’t run hot and cold. He was consistent. I got my books out for class, pondering the possibilities. Just because it was strange and unusual for a guy to like me didn’t mean it was impossible.

  Right?

  * * *

  Derek was right about one thing – the school was buzzing with the story and speculation was running wild. Some people thought the whole thing was a hoax, a story made up by Suzanne and spread by her friends to make her look special. But many people shared Meagan’s conviction that one of the guys at school must be a dragon shifter. Who was the dragon hidden among us? People really wanted to know – and in the absence of any real information, they were prepared to make something up that sounded plausible.

  It would have been funny if I hadn’t been so terrified of being found out.

  Suzanne was absent. I’d been right – Meagan had told the principal that she didn’t see anything, just Suzanne freaking out. Apparently, Suzanne had talked a lot about dragons attacking her and the principal had concluded that she was tripping on something. Her parents had refused to let her have a blood test or to have her seen by a doctor, so she’d been suspended for the day.

  Her groupies seemed a bit shaken by their idol’s tumble from grace, and I overheard Trish defending Suzanne a couple of times. She even talked about identifying the dragon kid and ‘taking him down,’ which was pretty funny.

  I wanted to see her try.

  I just kept my head down – even if I found Derek watching me at every turn. You’d think I could have gotten control of my crazy blushing, but no luck. I spent the day as red as a lobster, hugging my secret close and avoiding conversation.

  In other words, like usual, but more red.

  On the upside, Meagan was Ms Popularity, everyone wanting to hear the story from her side. That she deviated from her official version, telling Jessica and others about the dragon, just made her a bigger hit. Trish and Anna were watching Meagan from a distance – like circling piranhas – but apparently didn’t dare get close to her.

  Or maybe they were waiting for the Queen Bee to make a plan.

  In math class, Trish was busy on her messenger, probably researching the Pyr for Suzanne. Everyone around me had dragon fever, and everyone was on the dragon’s side. And that was when I realized three things:

  1. I could instantly and immediately become the most popular girl in school, if I just revealed my secret. I could feel the tide of support for the dragon.

  I could become cool overnight.

  This was such a novel concept that it threw me a bit, enough that it took me until the end of class to remember my dad’s last instruction.

  No shifting without authorization.

  2. That made me wonder whether
my dad, with his gift of foresight, had glimpsed the temptation in my future.

  Who wouldn’t want to be cool? Who wouldn’t want to be popular?

  All I’d have to do is shift shape in front of witnesses.

  And finally:

  3. Courtesy of all the drama in my life, I’d completely forgotten about the English essay I had to hand in right after lunch. ‘The Depiction of Weather as a Character in Jane Eyre, Rebecca, and Persuasion.’ Crap. Crappity crap crap. I hadn’t even finished reading the last book and time was a-wasting. So much for lunch with Meagan and Jessica.

  So much for lunch with Meagan and Jessica.

  I spent lunch in the library, madly reading and scribbling, barely managing to pull together an essay that was somewhat coherent in time.

  On the way to English class, I joined the group of people gathered outside the closed bathroom that had been the scene of the crime. I had a peek around the temporary barrier – easy since there were worker dudes who had moved it aside in their assessment of the damage – and smiled to myself at the diameter of the peeling scorch mark on the ceiling.

  ‘They’re trying to say that she was smoking something,’ Stacey said, with a roll of her eyes.

  ‘It’d be a helluva toke to burn that much,’ Mike replied.

  ‘I think we would have smelled it before it wrecked the ceiling,’ Tanya added, and they all laughed.

  When I got to English class, Derek was already there, watching me from his fave seat at the back. I stumbled right on cue. He didn’t miss one bit of it and I was glad to take my seat and turn my back to him.

  The day couldn’t end soon enough.

  Gym was my last class and predictably painful, even with Suzanne absent. Volleyball. Ugh. Whenever I hit the ball – which was infrequent – it went straight into the net.

  Eventually, the last bell rang. Meagan was ignoring me, probably because I hadn’t showed at lunch.

  I was late already, so I just headed out, reasoning that I’d patch things up with her later. I’d also have to think of a story to tell Mrs Jameson. Maybe a dentist appointment. I’d sent Isabelle a message and she’d agreed to meet me at a coffee shop at four. I’d met her at the same place a couple of other times. I had to take the bus and the L to get there, but I was used to that.

  I like meeting up with Isabelle. In a way, she’s everything I want to be. In another, she’s been everything I want to be. It’s odd, hanging with someone who had your job before but doesn’t remember doing it.

  Last spring, I discovered that she’s the previous Wyvern reincarnated. This would be incredibly useful, if she remembered all of the Wyvern goodness she once must have known and could thus help me get a grip on my slippery new powers.

  Of course, it doesn’t work that way. Nothing about this Wyvern gig is easy. She doesn’t remember anything about a past life and is pretty much taking my word on the whole reincarnation thing.

  Why am I so sure of who Isabelle was? Granny showed me. One thing I have learned is that what goes down in my dreams, especially when Granny is on the scene, proves to be real. Every time.

  Maybe that’s a Wyvern trick.

  Memory or not, there was no telling what Isabelle had inadvertently learned about the ring while growing up in Rafferty’s house. I still had hopes for more information.

  Usually Isabelle’s in England – where Rafferty and his partner, Melissa, live – taking courses on tarot cards and auras while being effortlessly gorgeous. She’s older than me, but doesn’t get snotty about it. This year, Isabelle had decided to enroll in some exchange program and study in Chicago. I’m pretty sure she did this to be close to Nick and I had to wonder how well that was working.

  I got on the bus, reminding myself that my mom never minded if I went downtown to meet Isabelle before dinner. (Well, if I wasn’t grounded. Details.) I felt as if I was (sort of) following house rules, even in the absence of parents and home.

  For whatever that was worth.

  In fact, the likelihood of having either again, or having things return to any kind of normalcy, seemed pretty low. I was afraid my dad had decided to compromise too late for it to matter.

  Which made me wonder why I even cared about house rules.

  And helped me to rationalize what I intended to do.

  Sure, I’d never asked my mom about the concert and my dad had said I couldn’t go, but they’d both left town. I was the only one in Chicago who knew I wasn’t supposed to go. Even if Meagan’s mom knew I was supposed to be grounded, it didn’t seem as if she was too hot about enforcing it. Maybe she thought it unimportant compared to my parents’ splitting up. Maybe she was giving me a break.

  I’d run with it, either way.

  If I could get to Jared’s concert, prove that I was right about him, and maybe get a peek at the book or even learn the Mages’ revised plan, that would justify defying my dad. Right? It might also score me at least one item from my birthday wish list.

  I wasn’t going to be irresponsible, though, or get myself into an unsafe situation. I’m not stupid. The co-op where Jared’s band was going to play was in a crummy neighborhood and not the place to be alone at night. I needed someone to go with me – a partner in crime, as it were.

  Which brought me to Isabelle.

  Isabelle was already sipping a big foamy coffee when I arrived. She was perched at a table for two by the window and if I didn’t like her so much, I could have been green with envy that she could look so good and make it seem so easy.

  Make no mistake – Isabelle is gorgeous. Even though I know it, I’m astounded every time I see her again.

  The weather had turned crummy. It was windy and starting to snow, the kind of snow that falls in big flakes and then melts on contact with anything. I was wet and chilled after my walk from the L. I shivered and kept my fave shawl wrapped around my neck like a big cowl when I sat down.

  They were playing hokey Halloween music, those novelty tunes which just about made me barf. There were jack-o’-lantern posters on the walls and everything in the place was black and orange. They had posters up for a pumpkin spice coffee special and the staff were dressed up – one wore a witch hat and a green wig, while the other wore a zombie costume.

  Isabelle was wearing a thick burgundy sweater with a wide cowl neck that showed her throat. She has that flawless skin that British girls tend to have, all creamy silk. I doubt she’s ever had a zit. She’s feminine and mysterious, and confident too. Like I said, Isabelle’s everything I want to be. Her chestnut hair is loose and wavy over her shoulders – no bad-hair days for her. With her jeans tucked into her high boots and her pale pink lip gloss, she looked like a lingerie model.

  Or every guy’s winter fantasy.

  That she has a scrumptious British accent would have sealed the deal for pretty much anyone. Most of the guys in the coffee shop were checking her out, probably imagining that I was her baby sister.

  The plain one.

  Isabelle had also bought a big foamy drink for me, which she pushed toward me. I’m not much for coffee, but was cold enough to drink it. I thanked her and wrapped my hands around the warm cup, realizing as I raised it to my lips that it was actually hot chocolate.

  Yummy. I smiled at her in appreciation.

  ‘Heard from Jared?’ she asked, right when I was taking a sip.

  I choked.

  Figuratively and literally.

  Chapter Four

  Trust Isabelle to cut right to the chase. Here was my opening, if sooner than expected. ‘He has a concert here on Saturday, at this club …’

  ‘I know. Knightshade.’ She watched me carefully, and she knew I had ducked her question. ‘Did you message him?’

  ‘Once. Last summer.’

  She looked a bit annoyed. ‘Didn’t he answer you? Didn’t he get in touch about this weekend?’

  ‘Yes and no.’ I put down the cup. ‘He sent me a short answer last summer.’

  ‘Blowing you off,’ Isabelle muttered into her coffee. ‘
Guys!’

  ‘I think he’s busy.’ I tried not to think about Jared being amused by high school girls who send him messages just because they’ve kissed him once. ‘And, you know, that’s fine.’

  Isabelle’s eyes gleamed. ‘Is it?’

  ‘The thing is, I need to talk to him about that book on the Pyr he has. I need to look at it again. Reference, you know.’

  Isabelle started to smile. ‘Uh-huh,’ she said and I blushed.

  ‘So I wondered whether you would take me to the concert Saturday.’

  It wasn’t smooth, but maybe it would get the job done.

  I probably looked as hopeful as a puppy.

  Isabelle’s smile widened. ‘Just to talk about the book, of course.’

  I blushed even more. ‘Look, I’m trying to not be pathetic about it. You could help.’

  ‘Try harder,’ Isabelle said teasingly.

  I had to be red enough to glow in the dark. She reached across the table and squeezed my hand. ‘I wish he’d gotten in touch with you, Zoë. I thought you two had some magic.’

  ‘Me, too.’

  Isabelle sighed. She looked out into the falling snow. ‘Why is it that guys just don’t get it?’

  I was surprised by her despondency. ‘How’s Nick?’

  Isabelle grimaced. ‘Oh, he tells me he has a girlfriend.’

  ‘You.’

  Isabelle shook her head. ‘Teresa, I think is her name.’ She widened her eyes slightly and sipped her coffee.

  I was appalled. ‘No way! You two are made for each other.’

  ‘Nick seems to think that love, romance, and sex are all the same thing.’ She shook her head and looked unhappy. I couldn’t help hearing my dad’s warning about Jared. He couldn’t be right about guys, could he?

  Isabelle sighed again. ‘I think maybe he’s just not ready.’

  Nick is hot and fun and the life of the party, the jock everyone wants to be – or be with. I could see him having tons of friends and going to lots of parties.

  But a girlfriend who wasn’t Isabelle?

  The idea bummed me out even more than the reality of my parents’ trashed relationship.