Long Black Veil (27 page)

“All good?” Brock asked when she was back in the passenger seat.

Devon nodded. “Let’s go to the dance.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Brock parked in his usual spot in the student lot, then led them to the gymnasium where the dance was being held. He took Devon’s hand as they walked. They passed a few couples already on their way in, and she noticed the surprised looks on their faces. Brock squeezed her hand—he had noticed them too.

They pushed through the gym’s outer doors, depositing their coats at the coat check. Then they pushed open the inner doors, and Devon caught her breath. It didn’t look much like the gym she was used to. Archways had been placed at even intervals throughout the cavernous room. Each one was wrapped in greenery and white lights creating a kind of garden party atmosphere. Greenery swags and more white lights dripped down from the high ceilings. Tall plants and small trees stood in corners. Round tables covered in white tablecloths were placed in pods around the room. In the center of each table were mirrored circles upon which sat candles and snow-dusted small logs and pinecones and berries. The mirrors magnified the light of the candles, making the room feel brighter than it was.

It was beautiful. Far more than Devon had been expecting.

“Shall we?” Brock whispered in her ear. Shivers ran up and down her spine.

Devon looked up at him, a bit of trepidation on her face. But it all melted away when she saw Brock’s eyes shining at her. “Yes,” she said, a smile on her face. She linked her arm in his and let him lead her into the dance proper.

The entrance wasn’t as horrible as she’d let herself expect. It wasn’t like everyone froze, the needle scratched across the record as even the DJ stopped playing, and nubile girls fainted into their escorts’ arms at the horror of a mountain girl coming to what had traditionally been a town dance. A few people did turn to stare, but nobody said anything. She wasn’t doused with anything, no one walked by and deliberately spilled anything on her lovely dress. Brock just led her to one of the empty tables and then pulled out her chair so she could sit down.

“That wasn’t so bad,” he observed, sounding a bit surprised himself.

Someone dropped down into the chair next to her. Devon turned to find Gil sitting there, a giant grin on his face. “So you actually got her to show up,” he commented, looking at Brock. “How’d you manage that?”

Brock shook his head. “That’s classified. But it did involve a crowbar, some strategically placed brownies, duct tape, and a cat toy.”

“A cat toy?” Gil laughed.

Brock answered with all seriousness. “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”

“I am sitting right here, you know,” Devon protested, laughing along with them.

“And you look gorgeous,” Gil said, kissing her cheek. “Both of you.” He winked at Brock who reddened uncomfortably.

“So what do you do at these things?” Devon looked around the room. All she saw were a lot of people milling around in groups, pretty much the same thing they did every day in school. A few couples had lined up to get their pictures taken.

“You’re looking at it,” Gil replied.

“Don’t people dance? I mean, it is called a dance after all.”

“Nobody wants to be the first to get out there,” Brock told her. “Especially the guys.”

“Speak for yourself,” Gil said, pushing his chair back. He stood and offered Devon his hand. “Milady?”

She looked at Brock to see if he was okay with it. He got up. “We’ll all go.”

The three of them trooped out to the dance floor. Gil grabbed a few more people from their class, dragging them up with them. They soon had a decent sized group that hit the floor. The DJ was playing generic top 40 pop, but nobody seemed to care. With Gil as the ringleader, they all laughed and danced and cut up, uncaring about who might be watching. More students joined them, until they were their own mob.

Devon was having a great time, far better than she could have guessed she’d have when Brock had picked her up. She danced with Brock and the others, no longer feeling like an outsider. He swung her around with abandon and their laughter mingled with everyone else’s.

The DJ changed the tempo and played a slow song. Gil had found himself a dance partner in Whitney who had come with a bunch of other girls in their class. Devon shuffled uncomfortably until Brock took her in his arms. They swayed to the beat of the song, turning in slow circles. Devon found she was unable to look away from Brock’s face as they danced.

He brushed a lock of hair out of her face. Gammy had helped her pull the sides up and curl it, so her dark red hair cascaded down her back in loose ringlets. Brock spun her out easily then pulled her back against him. “Are you having a good time?”

She swayed against him, winding her arms around his neck. “Better than I thought.”

“Me too.” He lightly brushed his lips against hers. “I’m glad you came into the Records room that day.”

“Even with the ghosts and family drama?” she teased, feeling like they were the only two people on the floor.

“Those are just perks. You’re the real prize.”

A teacher walked past and gave them the signal to separate. They did so with sheepish grins at each other. As soon as the teacher was gone, Devon leaned in once again. “I still can’t believe this is real. That I’m here, with you.”

“Come on,” he said, taking her hand and leading her off the dance floor. “I’ll give you some proof.”

They stepped out of the press of people; the dance floor was nearly full. Brock began weaving them between the tables, toward the front of the gym where the photographer had set up his portable studio. There was a knot of people gathered around a group of tables, and Brock began to wend his way through them.

“Bro!” Micah Landsdown’s voice rang out. He sounded well on his way to plastered. “Brock!”

Brock stopped as Micah stumbled toward them. He pushed Devon behind him just a little, as if protecting her. While Devon appreciated it, she wasn’t afraid of Micah and didn’t want to look like she was. She stepped up beside Brock. He took her hand.

“Hey, Micah. How’s it going?” Brock kept his voice neutral.

“Not bad, not bad.” He leaned over to get a good look at Devon. “So you’re here with Pocahontas, huh?” Micah seemed to be the only one still calling her that. The nickname had died out after only few weeks.

“Man, just let it go.” Brock’s hand tightened on hers.

“Good to see you too, Micah,” Devon said, refusing to be offended. He was the drunken idiot embarrassing himself here, not her.

“Looking good, Devon,” he leered. “When Brock here gets tired of you, remember that I’m more than happy to keep you warm.”

“I’ll bear that in mind if I ever want to get the syph.” She could feel Brock trying to hold in his laughter next to her.

Skylar came up behind Micah. She was wearing a gold sequined sheath dress, and her blonde hair was in a complicated updo. It seemed a little much for a high school dance, but Skylar had never been one for subtlety. She linked her arm in Micah’s, who jumped a little, as though surprised she was there touching him. He wrapped an arm like a tree trunk around her shoulders.

“Hi Brock.” She greeted him sweetly, fluttering her eyelashes at him. Devon had to resist the impulse to roll her eyes at her. Skylar ignored Devon entirely.

“Skylar.” He nodded at her. “We were going to get some pictures. Enjoy the dance.” He began to move away, his hand still in Devon’s.

“See you on the Winter Court,” Skylar called after him.

“That’s going to be a nightmare,” he muttered. “Sorry about that.”

“Again, that went surprisingly better than I thought,” Devon assured him. “But thanks.” She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

They waited in the short line to get their picture taken. Once that was finished, they found Gil at a crowded table and sat down with the rest gathered there. It was an amalgam of people from all cliques and none, but Brock was certainly the most popular person there.

The principal tapped on the microphone set up on a riser at the front of the dance floor. “Hello everyone. I hope you are all having a good time here tonight. I’d like to take a moment to thank the Winter Dance committee for all of their hard work!” Smatterings of applause broke out from random spots in the room. Gil made a face.

“And now, I am here to announce this year’s Winter Court.” He pulled out a sheet of paper that listed the winners. Ms. Princeton came up to stand next to him, holding two crowns. “First we’ve got the Winter Maids. And they are: Kimberly Bailey and Amanda Watts.”

Devon watched the two girls make their way to the stage. They were both cheerleaders and friends of Skylar’s. They stepped up and received a white rose from Mr. Nickolas. They waved to the assembled students.

“And now the King of the Winter Court is: Brock Cutler!”

Brock looked like he’d rather gnaw off his own foot than go up to that stage and take that crown. Devon tried to feel sorry for him, but only managed a small twinge. Gil shoved him out of his seat, saying, “Be a man!” Devon squeezed his hand before he left the table to take his place next to the Winter Maids.

Ms. Princeton placed the crown on his head. He said something to her and then stood there while Mr. Nickolas announced the last member of the Winter Court. “Finally, the Winter Queen is: Skylar Preston!”

Micah hooted and hollered as Skylar made her slow way up to the stage. You would have thought she’d just won the Miss Universe pageant with how slow she was moving and how much she was waving. Devon exchanged a look with Gil. They both watched Brock as he stood in front of everyone, waiting for Skylar to get her butt up there so they could be done with this joke. Unfortunately for Brock, Skylar was determined to take her sweet time. Devon could practically feel the frustration vibrating off of him.

Devon got up so she could get a better look. She wedged her way between clots of students until she had a pretty good view. Skylar had finally reached the stage and she lifted her gold dress above her ankles so she didn’t trip when she climbed the stairs. She seemed to be glaring at Brock to come and escort her, but he just ignored her, a slight smirk on his face. Devon smiled too.

Skylar was crowned with little fanfare but a whole lot more waving. She swayed a little on her enormous heels, so the principal propped her up. Then he directed Brock to help her down the steps. The crowd up at the front began to disperse as the DJ spun another slow song. Devon waited for Brock near the steps.

“Nice hat,” she commented when he walked over to her.

“I think it brings out the sparkle in my eyes.” He batted them at her. “You’re just jealous that I’m prettier than you.”

“Clearly,” she answered, laughing at him. “I think we sh—”

Skylar swept up to them, linking her arm with Brock’s. She gave Devon the barest of smiles—it was more like a tightening of the lips and a crinkling of the eyes—and began to drag the poor boy away. “Yearbook photos of our dance,” she explained. “Micah can keep her company.”

Devon felt the hulking presence of her least favorite behemoth off to her right. She would have preferred just going back to sit with Gil, but Micah grabbed her wrist and dragged her out to the floor. She tried to wrench out of his grip, but his hand was like a manacle.

“Hey, CroMag,” she said, keeping up with him so the drag on her wrist wasn’t so intense, “you aren’t dragging me back to your cave, you know. Ease up!”

In response, he pulled her in so that his boozy breath fanned her face. “Just relax. It’s one dance.”

Devon pushed against his chest, practically leaning over his arms that were tight around her waist to get away from him. “I prefer to be asked,” she said, not really caring that she might be making a scene. “Let go of me!” Unfortunately, they were in the middle of the dance floor which was crowded with couples now; the teachers would have a hard time seeing what was going on.

Micah didn’t seem to be listening. Devon had had enough. There was drunk and stupid and then there was this, and she didn’t relish another round of bruises from his fingers. She raised her right foot and stomped the pointy heel of her shoe down on the top of his foot as hard as she could. The she gave him a hard shove backwards while he was off-balance and cursing.

Immediately the dancers made room around them. Micah’s face was flushed and he glared around at everyone watching him. “What are you all looking at?” he shouted. People shuffled farther back but no one went anywhere.

“What the hell is going on?” Brock’s voice was nowhere near happy. Skylar followed along behind, dragging in his wake.

He walked over and put his arm around Devon, causing a murmur to wave through everyone watching. “Devon?”

Devon’s eyes widened, but before she could call out a warning, Micah reared back and punched him in the face. It caught Brock on the side of his jaw, snapping his head back. Brock took a few steps back, looking more shocked than hurt. Devon put herself in front of him, in case Micah went for another swing.

“Have you gone crazy?!” Brock shouted, feeling his sore jaw. “Has she made you completely lose your mind?”

“Shut the fu—” Micah shouted, only to be cut off by Skylar’s scream.