| |
“Hi, Mama Jo!” Belle called out as she entered the Laveau-Brennan household.
They’d left their front door unlocked for her. She followed the warm, spicy smell of her cooking and found her stirring a large pot on the kitchen stove. While Candy had the black corkscrew afro curls that brushed her shoulders, her grandmother had her own gray curls cropped close to the scalp. Jo was the older and rounder version of her granddaughter, and she gave the best hugs.
She drew Belle in for one now. “How’s my third baby girl today?”
“Third?” she replied, scrunching her nose at the insult.
Jo gestured towards the upstairs. “Millie’s already here.”
“Oh.” Belle peeked expectantly into the pot.
“Ernie want some gumbo? Don’t even answer that. I’ll have a dish set aside for him. Just mind you bring the Tupperware back next time you come.”
Belle beamed at her and gave her a peck on the cheek. “Thanks, Jo.”
“Hold on, child.” She lay the big wooden spoon on the counter and wiped her hands on her front apron.
Belle’s concern spiked when Jo pressed her lips into a grim line. “Is everything okay?”
“Wait here.”
Belle watched, increasingly baffled, as Jo walked past her, looked up the stairs, waited and listened there, and then nodded before returning to Belle in the kitchen.
“You’re kind of freaking me out here, Jo.”
“Nonsense, child.” But she spoke in a hushed voice, nonetheless. “The girls are getting ready, and just to give you a heads up, they’ve got a surprise for you. But that’s not what I need to tell you.”
She gripped Belle’s upper arms and looked earnestly into her face. “I know about your auntie.” Belle’s eyes widened. “Emily. She was my best friend in high school, and then after that...well, even I could tell she wasn’t aging right. Now, I know that you know.” Jo waited for a confirmation from her. When Belle gave her a small nod, she continued, “That’s what I thought. And now I also know your uncle’s history. See, Emily needed a confidant once upon a time, and I just so happened to have gained her trust.”
“How’d you do that?” she asked in a small voice.
Jo dropped her voice to a whisper. “I never told a soul, until now, that I saw her disappear before my very eyes. Poofed right out of existence. There had been some trouble with Peter.” She swallowed visibly and paused again to check if the girls were still talking upstairs. They were.
She lowered her voice even more, until she was almost mouthing the words. “I know the fairies took him.” Then, tears welled up in her eyes.
Feeling as if this moment was made out of crystal and could shatter with a wrong word uttered, Belle whispered, “Go on.”
“I know why Emily takes these extended ‘business trips,’ which must be leaving you without much of anyone besides Ernie to talk to about any of this. And I know he’s not much of a talker or sometimes even a listener. He’s so busy all the time.”
Belle’s eyes filled with tears, and she felt her lower lip tremble.
“So, what I’d like for you to understand is...that if you ever need a confidant, I’m here for you. About anything.”
The tears exploded out of Belle.
“Oh no, baby girl, come here.” And Jo wrapped her warm arms around her, and for the first time, Belle experienced some semblance of a healing embrace that only a mother could provide.
“Th-th-thank you,” Belle blubbered into her shoulder.
“Oh now, you let it out. Mama Jo’s here for you.”
And she did. Big, ugly sobs that racked her shoulders against Jo’s soothing hand rubbing her back. She cried over Papa again; the mockery of her own mother very much alive, but so unreachable she may well be dead to her; Emily and Peter’s happiness; Ernesto’s anger and loneliness; her own loneliness under the crippling burden of such dark secrets to keep hidden....
She remembered that shooting star she’d wished upon her first night in Elmridge. She’d wished for a confidant. Someone to share her burden with and help her through this utterly strange tale she’d been mandated to live out. That, she thought, would make the journey bearable. And she thought she’d found it in Liam, but his callous ghosting had proved her wrong.
Heartbrokenly wrong.
Footsteps clambering down the stairs had them drawing apart.
Candy and Millie were framed in the entryway of the kitchen, the picture of surprise. Both were in tight jeans and sparkly sequined tank shirts: Millie’s was silver, Candy’s was bronze, and they wore heels, long, dangly earrings, and metallic eyeshadow that matched their shirts. They reminded Belle of sexy mirror balls, and she had the sneaking suspicion she was about to be whisked upstairs and coordinated into one, too.
“Oh, honey, you crying about Liam again?” Candy asked, dismayed.
What could she do but nod?
“We are so going to help you forget that twit tonight,” Millie said, determination etched on her face.
With a sniffle, Belle tipped her chin up. “You know what? That sounds like a plan.” And then she winked at Candy. “And Dmitri’s going to take one look at you and say ‘Kat, who?’”
Candy beamed, Millie rolled her eyes, and Jo announced, “That meathead? I agree with Millie on this one. Baby, you can do better than him! Bring me home a cultured boy with some sense, not a primate.”
Belle’s eyes popped while Millie collapsed into snorts and giggles.
“Mama!” Candy yelled.
“You know it’s true.” She waved them off with the wooden spoon. “Go on now. Hurry on out. I got company comin’ over soon.”
As the girls made their way upstairs for what was surely Belle’s turn for a glow up, Candy called over her shoulder. “I hope it’s not Mr. Sanford. ‘Cause you know how I feel about him.”
“You hush now, I’m a grown woman!”
Candy slammed her door shut.
~*~
THE “SURPRISE” THE girls had for her had been what Belle suspected: a gold version of their mirrorball outfits. She kept her dark skinny jeans on and traded her green shirt for the gold sequined tank top. She had to confess: she felt like a model with her hair swept up into a high ponytail, her messy curls tamed with mousse into loose swirls, and light make-up consisting of lip gloss and gold cat-eye liner with black mascara. She felt extra fancy with her long, dangly gold earrings and three-inch heels.
Candy had tried to persuade her to wear the five-inch ones, but Belle convinced her that for her very first time wearing heels at her very first house party, she did not want to end up in the emergency room with broken ankles. She doubted in her mind though, if she’d even need the E.R. given the emergence of her freaky, speedy healing power.
When Candy turned Jo’s 1990 Cadillac Deville (her fourth baby) into the massive security gate of Manor Hill, Belle squeaked, “The party’s in here?”
“Of course,” Millie said, lowering the pop music that had been blasting from the radio. “Where else would Jared’s party be?”
“Jared’s party?!”
Candy grinned at her through the rearview mirror. “Jared’s celebrating the release of his new single. It just dropped today.” She slid her window down and handed the security guard her driver’s license. “Guess what it’s called?” She exchanged a gleeful look with Millie next to her.
“What?”
“‘The New Girl’!” They both shouted at once.
“You don’t mean—?”
“Yes!” Candy cut in. She accepted her license back from the guard and drove the car forward after the gate slowly slid open, revealing a long, wide road hedged on either side with more walls covered in climbing ivy. No one could get a peek at any of the mansions unless they drove into the actual driveways of the properties.
Privacy wasn’t just valued by only the Prynn family, it seemed.
“Surprise!” Millie said.
“The song is the surprise? I thought it was this outfit.”
“No, girl, this is definitely the surprise,” Candy said. “You haven’t heard the song yet?”
Belle could only shake her head, feeling immobilized by the horrific implications if this song were truly about her.
“Let me play it for you.” Millie synced her phone’s music app with the car’s radio.
You showed up at school one day
Your eyes, your hips, blew me away.
Brushing elbows in Chemistry,
Girl, you know the rest is history.
Oooooh, that new girl!
She came into my world.
Candy and Millie stopped singing along when they caught Belle’s expression in the rearview mirror. Millie turned around in her seat to face her. “Are you okay? You look like you’re gonna be sick.”
Belle clutched her stomach and put one hand over her mouth as she felt the vomit hit her throat. “I am going to be sick.”
“Ooh, not in my mama’s car.” Candy pulled the car over to the curb, and Belle practically leaped out. She lurched to her knees on the grass just as she threw up. Millie was at her side in an instant, rubbing her back and holding her hair.
“What’s wrong, hon’? Talk to us!” Candy called through the car window.
Belle climbed back into the back seat, and Millie scooted in next to her, her mood glasses a light shade of blue with worry.
“You guys,” Belle began, “you know I don’t want any attention like that on me. My aunt had the reporters gagged, so they wouldn’t talk about me in the press. How am I supposed to avoid being mentioned, if a world-famous singer writes a song about me? Plus, I don’t even like him like that,” she wailed. “I barely answer his calls and texts, or even talk to him in Chemistry. Jeez, can’t he take a hint?”
Candy shook her head in disbelief. “Honey, that is exactly why he’s chasing you. You are the one girl he can’t have.”
Belle let out a long, frustrated sigh.
Millie was staring at Belle, a gleam in her eyes.
“Oh no. I know that look,” Candy said. “What are you planning, girl?”
“What if,” Millie said, as if she were hatching an evil plot, “you act like those girls he’s afraid of?”
“Meaning?”
“You go fan-girl on him!”
“She’s not gonna do it,” Candy said.
“Do what?”
Millie answered, “Throw yourself at him when you get there. Don’t leave his side, and demand that he dance every song with you. He’ll be calling for his security guards to remove you from his presence by the end of the night.”
Belle’s quick shake of the head signaled her nope reaction.
“I didn’t know you had such a flair for the dramatics, Mills,” Candy said. She shook an index finger at her. “Hmm, something’s up with you. This isn’t your style.”
“Oh, whatever,” Millie said, throwing her hands up. “I’m just trying to help.”
Candy had started the car forward again, while Belle grabbed her friend’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “I appreciate it, Millie, really. But I think I just want to hang out with you two tonight, and then when Candy finally abandons us for Dmitri, like we know is going to happen, then we can cheer her on, or make fun of her, whichever you prefer.”
They both laughed when Candy stuck her tongue out at them in the mirror.
“Oh my God!” Candy’s eyes lit up in a Eureka-moment. “I know what’s up with you, Millie! You’ve been playing your old Backstreet Boys songs, rewatching that romantic anime series—the one that has Snow White with red hair—and you won’t stop texting someone, and you’re lying about who it is when I ask.”
“How do you know I’m lying?” Millie threw out.
“I know you, girl. C’mon, ‘fess up. Who’s the new guy?”
Belle gushed, “Oh my gosh, Millie, how exciting! You have a crush?”
“Why does it have to be a crush?” she said, as if the last word tasted sour. “I’ll have you both know, my life is more than just about a boy and a hobby.”
“Meaning?” Belle said, at the same time Candy said, “Girl, what you tryin’ to say?”
Millie looked pointedly between both of them. “Meaning, Liam and books, and Dmitri and cupcakes.”
“Girl, what is the man’s name before I knock you off your high horse.”
Millie exhaled and sunk back into her seat. “Eddie Helsing. He’s in my art class, and we both love anime.”
“See? You about a boy and a hobby, too,” Candy returned. “But tell us about him. It’s been awhile since you’ve liked a guy that wasn’t a cartoon character.”
Millie visibly resisted the urge to correct Candy. “We just talk in class sometimes. He looks and walks like a jock, but he’s got that emo, keep-ten-feet-away-from-me vibe.”
“So, naturally...” Candy said.
“I was attracted,” Millie finished. “The Dragon Ball sweater he was wearing was the convo-starter for me. You know what I found out? He’s done ghost hunts, you know, paranormal investigations? So when I told him that I write for the school’s Peacock Press, and that I could find out if there are any hauntings in Elmridge, he was super interested. So I text him when I have info about a house reporting a haunting. An alarming amount have reported, by the way. It’s scary.” And then she pouted. “But he won’t let me join him on a ghost hunt.”
“Oh, Mills,” Candy complained. “Sounds like this guy would take you to a séance on a first date.”
“And that would be awesome,” Millie said. “He helps his uncle research for his books. They, uh—what was it exactly he said that they research?” she muttered to herself.
“They travel the world and research the supernatural legends of each place they visit.”
They both turned to look at Belle. She’d been listening quietly this whole time, trying to understand the initial shock at Millie’s confession and how small the world was, and then whether she was feeling jealous that Eddie was possibly interested in Millie or angry that he was possibly dragging Millie into supernatural activities.
And what was Eddie doing involving himself in these kinds of things? She knew he researched legends, but ghosts?
“You know this guy, hon’?” Candy asked.
She glanced warily at Millie. “I do. He sits at my lunch table. He likes to read and not be bothered. Um, he’s nice, too. He was on the bus this morning, and he walked me to the complex after some guy was bugging me on the bus.” She didn’t want to rub in just exactly how nice he was dallying with her on Maple Tree Trail and sharing ice-cream with her. She’d credited the fine weather for his extra show of kindness.
Candy and Millie exchanged a look that didn’t sit well with Belle. “What? We’re just friends.”
Millie crossed her arms over her chest and gave her a tight smile. “We’re just friends, too.”
But something felt strained between her and Millie now, and she hated it.
“Okay, then,” Candy said, putting a period on that discussion. “Here’s the plan: we are partying our boo-tays off tonight!”
They finally arrived at a huge mansion that looked like it was plucked out of Malibu. It was like a party scene straight out of the TV show she watched with Candy at her house, Teen Hearts in Paradise, minus the tropical beach front. Rows of valet-parked cars spilled out onto the street, and there was a long line of people at the door, waiting to be screened for entrance.
As soon as Belle and the girls started heading for the back of the line, a Secret Service-looking bouncer waved them to the front and then ushered them right through the front doors.
“Excuse me, people, Jared’s ‘New Girl’ coming through!” Millie called out.
“Stop that,” Belle hissed.
“Please sign here.” A tired-looking woman in a suit presented an electronic tablet with what looked like a tiny-font document that filled the entire screen. A line marked with an X was highlighted at the bottom.
“What’s this?” Belle asked.
“Just your standard NDA,” she replied.
She watched as both Millie and Candy signed using their finger. “Just sign,” Candy said. “Every party in Elmridge has one. What happens at the party, stays at the party.”
Millie elaborated. “You’re agreeing to not publish any pictures or gossip to any tabloids about anything Jared-related, or you get sued for your soul.”
“Oh, okay then,” she replied weakly, and signed.
Anything else Belle was going to say died on her lips when they emerged into the foyer. “Oh my....”
Liam had a Gothic castle, but Jared’s family had an Art Deco palace. The three-story high foyer looked more like an atrium. It was big enough to contain the entire party, which spilled through the open doors of the back wall made up of floor-to-ceiling windows, and into the backyard, with its five-star resort swimming pool encircled by posh cabanas. And was that a helicopter just sitting there in the distance?
She’d only seen places like this once in a travel catalogue she’d flipped through on the train to Elmridge.
The place was filled with people from school and elsewhere, but she barely recognized anyone since they were all dressed to the nines in true fashion-show spirit. She was certainly glad she’d let her friends dress her for tonight.
The main sight was a large dance pit packed with gyrating bodies at the foot of a small stage occupied by a DJ, and swirling neon lights morphing into different patterns as if also dancing to the beat of the music, which was so loud, she felt the thumping bass drumming on all her organs. Elsewhere, people lounged, talked, played some games involving red cups and darts, and disappeared into the various corridors that branched away from the foyer.
Candy led the way through, craning her neck for a certain tall, muscular redhead.
Seeing the growing disappointment on her friend’s face, Millie yelled over the music, “Let’s just dance! It’s better if he finds you!”
Belle soon discovered a new kind of freedom. The exhilaration of drowning herself in the music as she let the notes and beats dictate her body’s movements. She’d never had her face hurt so much from grinning and laughing as she and her two best friends danced their cares away.
During a particularly ear-popping hip-hop song filled with dance instructions, Belle and the girls were in the midst of following the rapper’s orders to “jump around,” when she saw Dmitri slinking up behind Candy with a shush-finger to his lips meant for Belle not to give him away. She smiled broadly at Candy, and just as her friend gave her a questioning look, Dmitri wrapped an arm around Candy’s waist and hauled her back to him.
“Found you, boo!” He grinned down at a very surprised and ecstatic Candy. She turned and threw her arms around him, and then they started bopping closely together to the music, completely lost in each other’s presence.
Millie gave Belle an alarmed look, and before she could react, an arm snaked around her own waist and Belle felt herself pulled back against a solid, very male body. She screeched as she spun around to look.
“Jared!”
Grinning down at her was the face with baby blue eyes and deep dimples that made countless girls swoon. Jared’s black hair was artfully swirled up; he wore a short-sleeved, black button-down shirt that was sheer, the lines of a finely tuned chest just visible.
A glance in Millie’s direction revealed that Hans had snuck up on her and was just about to pull the same shenanigan, but when Millie turned and met him with a death-glare, he backed off with both hands in the air.
Jared grabbed Belle’s hand and twirled her slowly. “You look incredible.”
She didn’t think she could ever get used to these kinds of compliments. “Uh, thanks?”
“Let’s dance.”
Millie spoke in her ear, “I’m going to check out the food.”
“Do you want me to come?”
“No, you stay.” Her eyes flicked over to Jared and back to her. “Enjoy,” she said firmly.
In other words, forget Liam and have fun.
And boy did she. Before she even knew it, several songs had passed. She and Jared fell into a game of mimicking each other’s moves with sometimes hilarious results. She didn’t even notice that a wide berth was given them by the other dancers, with some watching approvingly.
A sultry slow song came on, and without giving her time to react, Jared wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her close to him. She could only curl her arms behind his shoulders and turn her face against his chest. Their bodies were warm and their clothing damp with sweat. The pressure of his arms around her felt soothing. After all that bouncing around, this was a welcome change of pace. She rested her cheek against him, and she didn’t resist when he squeezed her in tighter.
This felt...incredibly nice.
She let her eyes flutter closed and just focused on keeping out of her mind and in the moment with the physical sensations that the pressure of his body and the lulling notes of the music wrought.
Belle soon felt him pull away slightly, and just as she opened her eyes, she saw a pair of lips looming towards her own. She jerked back as her eyes widened. “Um, Jared?”
He straightened and blinked rapidly, embarrassment dampening his normally confident grin. “Sorry. I, uh, thought we were having a moment.”
“Listen, Jared, I just want to be fr—” An audible gasp wrung off her next words at what caught her eye.
“What? What is it?” A concerned Jared turned to look behind him, trying to follow her line of sight.
She pointed at a corner of the stage light trusses, raised high above them, but the shadowy figure with the glowing golden eyes was already gone.
The Jäger. He’d been shoulder-leaning against the metallic frame, arms crossed over his chest, foot crossed over the other, as if casually surveying the scene below him, except those two golden points had been boring straight into her.
“I-I think I need some water,” Belle gasped out.
“Yeah, yeah sure. Come with me.” He led her out of the dance area by the hand, into one of those corridors, and then into a massive den-like gaming room.
If Belle had known what she had been walking into beforehand...if she had known who the occupants of this room were, she would’ve stayed on that dance floor and whistled for that Jäger to come over and put her out of her misery.