Seriously Wicked (8 page)

He was also not in Algebra II, which made me more nervous. Was the demon
that
in control of him that he couldn’t make it to school? I didn’t even know where he lived. What if the demon had already eaten his soul?

At lunch, Jenah stopped me at the cafeteria door. “There’s catering where we’re going,” she said.

“Where are we going?” I said.

Jenah made shifty eyes. “You remember how you said you owed me big-time for tracking down Kelvin yesterday?”

“And I stand by that,” I said. “Wait, you aren’t going to ask me to clean your half of the locker again, are you? It’s like a fake-hair factory exploded down there, and it’s only October.”

“It’s nothing bad,” Jenah said quickly.

“Good,” I said, as we set off down the hall. “And this nothing bad thing is…?”

“Very last Halloween Dance Committee meeting,” Jenah said in a fast mumble. Like
very last
made it better.

I stopped. “Jenah, you know I hate Halloween.”

She grabbed my hand. “Yes, but you promised. Come on.”

“I don’t know why you need me,” I said. Jenah understood dances. Parties. Committees. Today she was all in black and yellow, stripes and fishnets. Her clipped-in streak was highlighter yellow, and her eyes were winged in perfect cat’s-eye liner. I was in my second-best jeans—the ones that didn’t understand my butt and showed too much sock—and a vintage tee with a glittery rainbow.

It was obvious who should be on the HDC.

“The aura in that room is just awful,” said Jenah. “I need you to balance it out with me. You know what they can be like.”

They
? “Jenah,” I said, “is Sparkle on the committee?”

Jenah grimaced. “Trying to run things, as usual.” The only person I’ve ever seen cow Jenah is Sparkle. Sparkle can make you feel more ridiculous than an elephant trying to squeeze into a tutu.

“I’ll run backup.” I sighed. “The way I feel today, Sparkle just better not say anything.”

“How
do
you feel?” said Jenah. “You look green and jittery around the edges. Rosemarie said she saw you on the bus with the new boy yesterday afternoon. He seems a little … off in his own world, doesn’t he? Always with those earbuds?”

“There’s a reason for that,” I said defensively. I couldn’t tell Jenah the demon story, so I doled out other gossip. “Did you know he’s in a band?”

“Ooh!”

“He’s supposed to sing lead on the songs he writes, but he’s still working on his stage fright. He’s really very sweet. And kind.”
And he has a lovely velvety voice …

“We could help him with his stage fright,” said Jenah. “I just knew our lines were bound to be entangled in some way. I could see it from the moment I saw him.”

“You and me both,” I muttered.

“No cryptic utterances,” Jenah said firmly, “Or else—”

“Our galactic jump rope gets in a knot. I know. You don’t really need me for Sparkle, do you?”

Jenah suddenly stopped. “Ooh, isn’t that him? What on earth happened?”

A tall, weary boy was slodging through the crowds milling around the front door.

It was the weirdest thing, but when I looked at him the first time, it looked as though his hair was completely black.

But it must’ve been the way the shadows and backpacks moved, because when he looked up and saw us, he was his normal blond boy-band self, except very, very tired-looking.

His face cleared at the sight of me. “Cam,” he said, and then stopped. He blinked and swayed on his feet, like he was too tired to think of words after that. His jeans were muddy and his T-shirt sleeve was torn. He was carrying a cardboard box, also muddy, with little bits of stalks and grass stuck into the mud. A leggy lump on the top looked like a squished water bug.

“What happened to you?” I said.

For an answer, he lifted the flap of the box about a half inch. I peered in, and through the light from the airholes punched in the top, I saw a hoppy mass. For a moment I thought they were frogs, but then I saw that the little green blobs had wings. Sparkly green wings that winked in and out of sight like lightning bug bellies.

Pixies.

“Wow,” I said. “One hundred?”

“One hundred,” said Devon.

“One hundred…?” said Jenah.

“Frogs,” I lied. “One hundred frogs.”

Devon nodded to Jenah over the box and lifted dirty fingers. “I’m Devon,” he said. “I’m new.”

“True but not very explanatory,” she said. “I’m Jenah; I’m in your algebra
and
your American history, so I already know some-things about you but not the most important question:
Why
do you have a box of frogs?”

“Science project,” I said.

Jenah looked thoughtful. “None of the science classes are currently doing projects.”

“Extra credit?” suggested Devon.

“Catching up from his old school,” I said simultaneously.

Jenah shook her head at us, lips pursed like she was buying none of it. She pointed a finger at me. “Thirty seconds,” she said, and then collared a passing Mohawked boy to catch up on the latest news from the punk world.

Devon smiled shyly at me.

“How are you, um, doing with you-know-who?” I said.

“I tried to go to sleep last night but he dragged me down to the creek behind my house,” he said. “We caught four pix—er, frogs there. Then down the creek to where it goes in the sewer pipe. Another two frogs inside the sewer. Then he marched my legs overland till we found where the creek starts up again. Like, half a mile. Another three frogs. The creek widened until it hit a lake. All around the lake were enormous houses with motion detectors that went off if I chased the frogs in the wrong direction. By then it was after midnight…”

“Gah,” I said.

“I just found number one hundred in a culvert three miles from here,” he said. “I found a bus stop, but the driver wouldn’t let me on with a box of pix—frogs. I don’t mean to complain.” He yawned. “I’m just dead.”

“What’s he doing now?” I said. “You know.
Him
.”

“Catching up on sleep,” Devon said in a low voice. “And now I have to figure out how to save these frogs. I had to fight to put airholes in the box, and a bowl of water. His reflexes are better than mine, so I tried to encourage him to catch some flies for the box. I don’t even know if they eat flies.”

I nodded. “Flies, spiders, and dew that still has dawn reflected in it.”

“I couldn’t see them at first till he rubbed my eyes around with his fingers,” said Devon. “
My
fingers. Whatever. Now my eyes feel like they’re full of Vaseline.” He shrugged his shoulders, swaying again. “I could crumble up an energy bar for the frogs. Do you think they’d eat it?”

“Doubtful,” I said. Pixies were picky. “I could help you catch spiders after school if you want. But they definitely need the dew tomorrow at dawn or their lights will dim.”

“I remember the first time I dealt with a kitten at the shelter that wouldn’t eat anything,” Devon said. “Tried cloth soaked in milk, baby formula, water … Dunno why I didn’t think of dawn-reflected dew.”

“Ready to go?” said Jenah from across the hall.

Devon bent toward me. “How can I deal with it, Cam?” he said urgently. “Estahoth said he’s here till Friday no matter what. How can I make it two more days without going crazy? Everything he made me do last night, from smashing birds’ nests to throwing the pixies in the box with no food … He’s my opposite. What do I do?”

Little blows shook my soul. How could I explain to him how his words hit home? How do you deal when some random statement hits to the core of your deepest fears?

We looked at each other for ages. I don’t think either of us could’ve spoken if we tried.

Then Jenah grabbed my arm and the moment collapsed. “Have. To. Go,” she said. “Come on down to the choir room if you get a chance, Devon. I’ve got ideas for you.” She grinned and dragged me down the crowded hallway. “Mick says the punks poll one hundred percent in favor of Lice Blanket, and zero percent in favor of the band Sparkle wants. God, the only people who like that band are Sparkle’s girls and maybe also the pink-sweater-vest crowd.”

“You don’t have to pull,” I finally managed, halfway down the hall.

“Oh good, Miss Giant,” she said. “Then come on.”

“If you were any shorter, I’d step on you,” I said. I went through the motions of the familiar teasing, but I was still thinking about someone driving my life, someone who was the opposite of everything I stood for.

But we were at the door to the choir room. “Focus! Free food!” Jenah said in my ear, and shoved me through.

The room was full of Sparkle’s friends, claiming the space by draping themselves on the risers and around the piano. Jenah was right: deep soul-searching would have to wait. I shook my head and tried to focus.

The catering was good as usual when Sparkle was involved. No, I don’t know why we get catering for a party-planning committee, except that Sparkle gets her best friend Reese’s mom to donate for whatever Sparkle wants. I’m not complaining. Sushi and sashimi out the ears, plenty of the stuff I like and the witch hates. I get to eat Cantonese at Jenah’s place (her mom sighs and fixes it when the tradition-loving grandparents are there), and pizza when I sneak off by myself on teacher workday holidays (I don’t tell the witch those days exist), but otherwise it’s beet salad and raw carrots all the way. The witch refuses to get take-out because she says the delivery people’s vibes interfere with her spells or something.

Sparkle was standing by the spider rolls in a white tank and turquoise sequined skirt. I could almost feel cheery toward Sparkle for the catering choices, but of course she immediately studied my butt in my second-best jeans and said, “You should definitely have some more tempura, Camellia.”

I put another handful of fried things on my plate. “Excellent suggestion,” I said. “You should definitely have some more total pain in the—”

“Oh, Camellia, don’t,” said Miss Crane ineffectually. We all knew Miss Crane, as she was the choir teacher, and also the one dumped with unfun tasks like trying to stop Sparkle from running everything. She was probably young, but she wore long shapeless skirts and button-down shirts like a refugee from one of her own choir concerts. “Grab your food and sit down, girls. This is our last chance to finalize.” She perched on the edge of her high stool as if she would flee at any moment.

“Something’s going down,” Jenah whispered to me. “I can feel it.” She whisked over to a random girl, not one of Sparkle’s, and moved her to the top riser. “You sit here,” she said to the girl. “Better feng shui.” Jenah moved the trash can next to Sparkle’s sidekick Reese and sat down again.

“Jenah, please,” said Miss Crane. “The party is this Friday and I need to double check the last few party essentials. Benjamin, do you have the receipts for the streamers? And, Sparkle, I
still
need to approve the playlist for the band.”

“I’ve approved it,” said Sparkle from her spider-roll position.

Miss Crane fluttered her hands, her hot-pink manicure flashing arcs through the air. The manicure always made me wonder if she had a secret life in which she wore nonchoral clothes and didn’t let teenage girls walk all over her. “I know you have excellent taste, Sparkle, but, er, per the school board, I have to approve what’s in their songs, or they can’t play.”

“Pop Pop is all set,” said Sparkle. “End of discussion.”

“Pop Pop?” said Jenah. “We settled on Lice Blanket and you know it.”

“I don’t think a band called Lice Blanket would be ideal,” protested Miss Crane. “I’m positive their lyrics would never make it past the school board. Now, Sparkle. What kind of music does Pop Pop play?”

Sparkle rolled her eyes at the ceiling. “You should definitely invite whatever band you want, Jenah,” she said. “The Halloween Dance would be remembered for all time.”

“Oh, good, an agreement,” said Miss Crane. “Now if I can just—”

“Excellent,” said Jenah to Sparkle’s sarcasm. She snapped her fingers at me. “What’s that new band we were just listening to, Cam? So new we were totally ahead of the curve.”

“Huh?” I said.

“You know,” said Jenah. “It has that green-eyed boy in it. The new kid. What’s his name, Dev, Dannon, what?”

“Oh,” I said, catching on. “Blue Crush. They’re sensational. Really, er, fresh. But, uh, I don’t know if they’re available to play.” I was torn—Jenah’s idea would be an awesome way for poor Devon to practice getting over his stage fright, and of course I would love to hear him sing … but on the other hand, I had to get that demon out of him, and the fewer distractions, the better.

On the
other
other hand, Pop Pop stunk.

“I’m confused,” said Sparkle’s sidekick, Reese. “Sparkle’s band is set. Why would we be changing it now? That’s not cool.” Her brown eyes crinkled in befuddlement.

“You’d know what’s not cool,” I said innocently.

“True,” Reese said, nodding. “Besides, have you seen how hot the boy in Pop Pop is? Oh. My. God.” This was met with squeals of agreement from the Sparkle supporters on the risers.

Sparkle glared at us. “Reese’s mother is paying for the band, and she’s paying for Pop Pop.”

“So, the playlist for Pop Pop,” said Miss Crane. “Can they email me their lyrics so I can check for improper allusions?” She peered at Sparkle. “Do you think they’ll have email?”

“What’s Blue Crush?” said Benjamin, raising his hand. “Are they a surfer band? We’ve never had a surfer band.”

“They’re an everything band,” said Jenah. She leaned back on the risers. “Surfers will like them. Ravers will like them.” She looked at Reese. “The lead singer’s really cute, so Pop Pop lovers will like them. And as soon as we book them, Devon can give us the lyrics immediately.”

“Oh, that would give me time to read them,” said Miss Crane. “Maybe he can send them to me from the computer lab. Do you think he has a file of their lyrics at school? Like on his phone, is that a thing?”

“My mom would totally approve of supporting a band with a hot boy from the school,” said Reese.

“Excellent!” said Jenah. “We’re all set, then.”

“We are
not
all set,” growled Sparkle.