“Because I’m in love with you, even though I know I’m not good enough for you.”
My cheeks flush. Did he really say that? Did he really mean that?
Our eyes are locked as we sway, spinning in slow circles with orange, black, and white spotlights tracing over our skin. As we turn, I can see Zayd in his stupidly tight Power Rangers uniform watching us. He’s dressed as the red ranger, which suits him. His mask is off currently, and I meet his gaze briefly over Zack’s shoulder before I turn back to that soft, brown gaze.
If I had to guess … I’d say Zayd looks jealous. But that can’t possibly be true. If he cared at all about me, he wouldn’t have done what he did. At any time, it would’ve only taken one of the guys to tell me the truth about what was happening, to step in and make things right. Just one of them. Even if it were an unbreakable Infinity Club bet, could they have looked anymore excited about what they were doing? And how about an apology?
No, there’s no way Zayd is jealous. No way.
Zack and I continue to dance, and shortly after, we’re joined by Tristan and Harper. Tristan’s all done up like the Mad Hatter, complete with top hat and everything. He holds Harper possessively by the waist, and dances far too close to us. Every time we turn, I see them, her dressed up like Ariana Grande, and him with his blade gray gaze locked on her face.
There’s a little pang in my chest that I can’t identify. But what I do notice is that when Zack spins me, and the rose necklace flutters, Tristan sees it. For a microsecond, his eyes widen, but he’s brilliant at hiding it. Just brilliant. The next time we make eye contact, he’s scowling at me.
Creed has disappeared, dressed once again like a pirate (same as last year) with an unbuttoned red blouse, a plastic sword, and breeches so tight that there’s little left to the imagination. I’m guessing that’s why he was asking Miranda to buy him something yesterday: he didn’t expect to lose his off-campus privileges and ended up without a costume. Sucker. He doesn’t come back for the next several songs and by then, I’ve already forgotten about him. Him, and Tristan, and Zayd.
For whatever reason, Zack has that effect on me. I grin as he dips me, laugh as he lifts me back up, and squeal as he hoists me into his arms and spins us both around in circles.
When we leave for the cemetery portion of the party, I’m grinning ear to ear. I even let him hold my hand as we take off our heels and run barefoot through the grass and under the shadowy limbs of trees. It’s the perfect, foggy Halloween night, too.
My heart is racing as we stumble onto the party with our hands still linked.
I expect trouble, but there’s no resistance when we show up. For the most part, everyone ignores us.
For the most part.
“Careful if you’re drinking, the tattling teetotaler’s here,” someone mumbles, but really, should those in glass houses throw stones? This all started because Creed and his cronies reported me for drinking last year. Bunch of bullshit.
Zack grabs a beer, so does Miranda. Andrew, Jessie, and I stick with sodas, heading onto the dock to dangle our feet in the icy water for a while before we realize that the majority of the students have disappeared into the actual graveyard.
“Should we check it out?” I ask, this little niggle of suspicion working its way up from my stomach and into my chest. My heart pounds as I check my phone, pulling up the footage from the security cameras. There’s nothing there, but a quick rewind shows … My mouth drops open as both Zack and Miranda lean over to peer at the screen.
It’s Creed, rifling through my stuff, looking for my journal, finding my journal.
“Oh my god,” Miranda whimpers, slapping her hand over her mouth. “Creed, you fucking idiot.”
I push up from the dock, leaving my heels behind, and take off for the graveyard with the others following along behind me. Déjà vu hits me hard and fast as I come around the corner and find Creed lounging on top of one of the mausoleums with a horde of ghouls and ghosts surrounding him. Devils and demons, Miranda calls the Idols and their Inner Circle. She is spot freaking on.
Just like last year, I stand there with my heart pounding as Creed clears his throat, lifts up a bobby pin and picks my look. Just like last year, he’s the perfect picture of beauty and cruelty as he flips through the pages and stops on one at random. Just like last year, he opens his mouth to read my personal thoughts and feelings to an uncaring audience.
