Edgewood Series: Books 1 - 3 (103 page)

We were instructed to file past like we were in a receiving line at a wedding. An aide would announce our names and we were to exchange greetings for no more than ten seconds and then move on. Ten seconds, seriously, that’s what we were told. With close to four hundred guests, this part of the evening could take nearly an hour. The three of us were scheduled to go first, so that we could step to the side afterward both to guard the presidential family and also to observe the other guests as they went through the line.

Jameson, pulling Mallory by the hand, pushed past me so he could be the first to go through. I let him, because why not? I had nothing to prove. They were announced to the president and vice president, and then to Layla, who told her parents, “I’ve already met Mallory and Jameson. They’re friends of Russ, my date.” I hoped Jameson caught that.

Mallory said, “Happy birthday, Layla!”

“It’s really tomorrow, but thanks.”

I went next, and the president said she was very glad to meet me as if I hadn’t held my hands over her at the hospital and infused her body with healing energy.

I said, “You’re looking well tonight, President Bernstein.”

“Thank you, Mr. Becker,” she said with a wink. “I’ve never felt better.”

Mr. Bernstein grasped my hand and said, “Take good care of our little girl, Russ. Make sure she behaves.”

I said, “Of course, sir.” Out of the corner of my eye I saw Vice President Montalbo take Mallory’s hand and lean in to whisper in her ear. Meanwhile, Jameson was saying something funny to Mrs. Montalbo, causing her to laugh. When I got to Layla, she shook my hand and leaned over to kiss my cheek. “Here’s the man of the hour,” she said. And then more quietly, “I got a visit from your girlfriend asking me to give you a message.”

“Nadia?” Stunned doesn’t begin to touch my reaction. Shocked is more like it. I lowered my voice. “She astral projected to you?”

“Yes.” And then so quietly I barely heard the words. “She had some concerns about this evening. I already told the Secret Service. I’ll fill you in after I’m done here.”

“Can you tell me now?” The hall was getting noisy as guests entered and mingled. It looked like not everybody was choosing to get in line, or maybe they were just waiting.

She tilted her head to indicate the encroaching line. In another five seconds, I’d be in the direct path of the man next to me. I vaguely recognized him as the lead singer of a rock band Carly had loved in high school. “Later,” Layla whispered.

It killed me to walk away without hearing more, but rock and roll guy was extending his hand to Layla saying, “It’s awesome to meet you.”

Vice President and Mrs. Montalbo greeted me and said it was nice to meet me. There was no sign that he remembered me as the young man who’d insulted him in his office just recently. So that was good.

I took my place along the wall next to Mallory and Jameson. Across the room, servers offered guests glasses of champagne, while others walked around with trays of hors d'oeuvres. The line leading up to the president snaked around the side of the room, and Secret Service agents were everywhere, not even trying to blend in. Mallory nudged me and said, “Can you believe we’re here? Isn’t this wild?”

“Yeah, pretty crazy.” I kept my eyes ahead, looking for suspicious behavior, but also looking for a woman disguised as a man. I’d had trouble sleeping the night before so I’d mentally gone over the plot of the comic book Mr. Specter and Kevin Adams had written.
Superheroes of the Twenty-First Century!
Most of the action in the story had taken place in a banquet hall, much like this one. And from there, the similarities kept coming. Just like Spark Boy, I had healed a lady president who’d been in a coma and like Persuasa, Mallory had used mind control on a vice president who’d previously crossed over to the Associate side. Those two things alone made me think I needed to pay attention to the story. Interesting that back when the story was written the idea of a lady president was pretty farfetched and here we were more than twenty years later, with a woman president and it was no big deal.

The rest of the story hadn’t played out yet. We were at a ball, although it wasn’t a charity ball, but that was a minor point. If the evening followed the comic book, the commander of the Associates, a woman, would be here disguised as a man. An explosion would go off, causing the room to fill with smoke. And then, pandemonium as the crowd panics trying to escape. What happened after that? I thought about the next panel in the comic book. One of the Associates aims a shot of electricity at the president which is intercepted by Spark Boy who stops it with a bolt of lightning of his own. Jameson had his own heroic role in this when his character, Mover!, propels the missile away from the president and shoots it out of the ceiling.

The rest of the story was the most troubling to me because it involved Nadia’s death, something that made me sick to my stomach just thinking about it. But of course that would never happen. Nadia was on her way here, not Edgewood. The scenario didn’t fit, so it couldn’t possibly happen.

So the comic book wasn’t completely accurate, but it still held clues, I thought. But what if, even as a teenager, Mr. Specter anticipated crossing over to the other side, and through the comic book he purposely tried to steer us wrong? That would take a lot of anticipation and planning. It seemed unlikely, but then again, everything that had happened since the night I saw the lux spiral seemed unlikely.

Mallory and Jameson had been talking quietly to each other this whole time, pointing out celebrities and debating if anyone would stop them from having a glass of champagne. They caught me listening to their conversation and I shook my head in disapproval. Jameson said, “Russ is a killjoy.”

“Not a killjoy,” I said, turning my attention back to the line. “Just a superhero of the twenty-first century.”

“Whatever,” he said.

I watched the line approach the first family, and when the aide announced, “Dr. David Hofstetter,” I did a double take because I’d forgotten he was going to be here. I thought of Carly watching this event on a monitor in an adjoining room and wondered if she’d recognize him. Who knew? Maybe she had audio and even heard them say his name. I tried to catch his eye. Not to talk to him or anything, just to let him know we were there, but he didn’t look in our direction. David was too busy talking to the president and Mr. Bernstein. From their familiar greeting it seemed that they’d met before. As he went through the line I noticed that his exchange with Vice President and Mrs. Montalbo was clipped and brief. I didn’t think they had met before.

When a server came by with a tray of soft drinks, I shook my head, but Jameson and Mallory each took a glass. My stomach growled but I turned down hors d'oeuvres too, even though they looked delicious. Next to me, my friends ate and drank and talked like we were at a party where nothing terrible could happen, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that in the upcoming hours this lovely social event could turn into tragedy. I remembered Dr. Anton’s answer when I asked him how he thought things would go:
I think this is going to go badly. If it were up to me they’d cancel the Bash.
I didn’t think he’d try to scare us unnecessarily. That’s just how he felt.

I flexed my hands by my side, ready to shoot out the electricity coursing through my body on a moment’s notice. I was on edge, but I had to be.

Nadia

Nedra took me to a room that held three barber chairs and two small makeup stations complete with vanity mirrors and more trays of cosmetics than you’d find at Macy’s display counter. An older woman who’d been sitting in one of the chairs, jumped up when we walked in. Her eyes narrowed while she looked me up and down and she didn’t look happy with what she saw. When Nedra introduced us (Maisy this is Nadia, Nadia this is Maisy), and we shook hands, I sensed that somehow without even knowing her, I’d become a disappointment. Maisy shook her head sternly, “I have no idea if I have a dress that will fit her.”

Nedra said, “Surely you must have something.”

“I have a lot of somethings, but this Bash is for grown-ups. I have nothing that will fit an eighth grader.” She gestured to a rolling rack filled with dresses and scowled.

“She’s tiny but certainly you have dresses in a size two?” Nedra turned to me. “Is that your size, Nadia?”

“Maybe,” I said, not really certain. The clothes my mother ordered for me were women’s small. My jeans were purchased by waist size and length. I wasn’t used to getting clothes by size, but I was pretty sure size two was for models.

Maisy said, “The size isn’t the problem. It’s the length that’s going to kill us. Not only that but her shoulders are way too narrow.”

Nedra strode decisively over to the rack and started pulling dresses. “Strip down, Nadia,” she said. “I’m going to need you to try these on.”

“Can’t I go to the Bash like this?” Even as I asked I knew the answer was no. Showing up at the Black Tie Bash in jeans and T-shirt under any circumstances was never a possibility.

Nedra dumped an armful onto the chair. “Start with these.”

Maisy said, “Even if we find a dress, there’s the problem of her hair.”

“What’s wrong with my hair?” I kicked off my shoes, and unzipped my jeans and stepped out of them.

“It looks like a three-year-old cut your bangs.”

“I’m letting them grow out,” I said, pulling off my T-shirt. To minimize the amount of time spent in my underwear in front of two strangers, I took a yellow dress off the pile, pulled it over my head, and let it shimmy over my hips. The excess fabric at the bottom pooled around my feet like I was standing in a spotlight.

“Maybe with high heels?” Nedra said doubtfully.

“Not even with stilts.” Maisy stood with her arms folded. I had the feeling she’d be on a break right now if not for me. “By the way, Nadia, you need to lose the bra. All the gowns have built in cups.”

I tried on dress after dress, all of them too long. When I pulled the last one over my head, I was so flustered that at first I tried to put my head through the opening for my arm. Lost inside a sea of red chiffon, it was Nedra’s voice that saved me. “Let me help you.” I felt her hands guide my arms toward the sleeves and pull the fabric around my head until everything came out of the right opening. Part of the cloth was still over my head even as the rest of the dress fell to the floor. “It has a hood?” I asked.

Nedra flipped it back. “No, it has a low back which drapes at the bottom.” She looked at Maisy. “I think this is perfect for her.”

Maisy begrudgingly agreed. “But only because the dress is supposed to fall mid-calf. On her it’s all the way to the floor.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Nedra said. “It’s perfect.” She led me to a full-length mirror, where I saw the image of someone who could have been me, if I were beautiful. For an instant the crisis faded and time paused while I gaped at myself in the dress. I pinched the chiffon fabric and pulled it up, then watched as it floated down.

“Oh, it’s so beautiful,” I said, turning to see the view from the back.

“You look absolutely gorgeous,” she said. “The only problem is that the dress will be too short with high heels. I’ll find you some flats. Size five?”

“Six please.” She took off into an adjoining room, leaving me to stare at the dark-haired girl in the mirror who looked almost perfect to me.

Maisy came up behind me and said, “While Nedra’s hunting for shoes, let’s do your hair and makeup.” She steered me into a chair and stepped back to appraise my face. “Your skin is nearly perfect, so there’s not much to do there.”

“Oh no, my skin is awful,” I said, lifting a hand to the side that had been burned. “The worst.”

“From where I’m standing it looks great.” She shrugged. “If you normally have breakouts, you don’t have them today. Since you’re in a hurry, we can skip the foundation and make do with some lipstick and a touch of bronzer and, I have to tell you, I do a really great dramatic eye. I usually do Layla Bernstein’s makeup so you’re in good hands.” She took a long handled brush and dipped it into some powder and began sweeping it over my cheeks. She stepped back to survey her work.

Oh man, this was going on for way too long. I needed to get out of here pronto. “You know I don’t usually wear much make-up and I’m going to miss the whole Bash if we don’t hurry. I want to skip the rest.”

“Skip it!” she exclaimed, clearly dismayed. “You can’t skip it.”

Nedra came rushing in, holding a pair of black and red flats. “Not a great match, but good enough.”

I stood up and slid my feet into the shoes. “The dress covers them anyway,” I said.

“It won’t cover them when you’re dancing,” Maisy said, her voice grumpy. She grabbed a comb off one of the vanity tables and ran it roughly over my head, then pulled my hair up in the back and pinned it quickly in place.

Nedra took my hand. “That’s enough, Maisy. I have to get Nadia to the Bash.”

“Geez, what’s with you two? You’re like Cinderella rushing to go to the ball.”

Cinderella actually rushed to get
away
from the ball, but I wasn’t going to correct her. We said our good-byes and Nedra led me out the door. We were halfway down the hall, when we heard the clatter of Maisy’s feet coming up behind us. “Wait!” she yelled. I turned to see her brandishing something curved and shiny. A red gem-studded headband. She skidded to a stop right behind us, and taking a comb from her pocket, quickly brushed my bangs to one side, the placed the headband on my head. “There,” she said. “You needed that.”

A wave of professional pride rolled off her. It bothered her that I’d left her with uneven bangs. “Thanks,” I said.

As we continued down the hallway Nedra said, “I must say it does add just the right touch.” Off in the distance I heard music playing from the Bash hall. I’d missed the meet and greet, but it wasn’t as late as I’d thought. And at least I wasn’t hearing explosions.

Nedra took me right to a set of double doors blocked by a heavy-set guard. She flashed her security badge and he stepped aside. “This is where I leave you,” she said bowing slightly. “It has been a pleasure, Miss Nadia.”