Pyxis: The Discovery (Pyxis Series) (17 page)

|| 26 ||

“ARE YOU OKAY?” ANG asked as I opened our locker at the beginning of morning break. “You look … not like yourself.”

I knew she was trying to be nice. I looked like hell after my scary and sleepless night. She, on the other hand, was all light and bubbles. Her blonde hair bounced around her shoulders, and her eyes sparkled; even her teeth seemed whiter. Maybe she’d actually whitened them in preparation for the dance. She
was
awfully keyed up. I half expected her to start running in circles around me like an excited puppy. Wishing I didn’t have anything more than a high school dance to occupy my thoughts, I smiled wistfully while I dug around in our locker.

“Yeah, I know. I didn’t sleep well last night.” I stifled a yawn.

A sympathetic look crossed her face, but then the light and bubbles returned. She grabbed my shoulders and looked into my eyes with urgency. “We’ll you’re going to have to take a nap after school or something. You have to rally, Corinne!”

“Okay, okay.” I laughed. “Take a nap. Rally. Will do.”

Fortunately for me, my date would be just as exhausted as I was. Maybe Mason and I could sleep in the car while Ang and Toby had their slow dance moment under the balloons and streamers in the gym.

I slogged through the rest of the day, and then went straight home and collapsed on my bed. I had every intention of taking a nap, but I couldn’t fall asleep.

My phone buzzed. It was a text from Mason.

I’ll be at your place at 6. C u soon!

I looked at my clock. Four forty-eight, damn. No point in trying to sleep now. After a quick shower, I stood in front of the mirror in my bathroom with my hair turbaned in a towel and started doing my makeup. I heard the doorbell ring, and a minute later, Ang appeared with a huge duffel bag over her shoulder and her plastic-sheathed dress on a hanger. Her hair and makeup were already done.

“I told Toby we could all come back here after the dance. Hope that’s okay!” She ducked into my room with her things.

“Sure, that’s fine,” I hollered to her down the hall. “Want me to make some special blue cookies for you to give him?”

“Corinne, I would never do that!”

“Everyone decent?” Bradley called from the top of the stairs. I heard Ang slam my bedroom door shut.

“Yeah, come on down,” I said, and pulled the towel off my head. I looked up and caught my brother’s reflection in the mirror. I whirled around. He was dressed in a tux, his hair was gelled, and he held a plastic box with a pink rose corsage.

“You are
not
.” I narrowed my eyes. He looked at me with a slightly sheepish grin on his face. “Please tell me you are not going to Spring Queen with Sophie.”

“I could … but then I’d be lying.” He didn’t even have the decency to seem apologetic about it.

I leaned back against the bathroom counter and crossed my arms. Was it possible Sophie stole one of my cookies and gave it to Bradley? I’d rather believe that than believe it was “True Luv!”

“I gotta ask you something random, Brad,” I said. “Did Sophie give you any baked goods in the recent past?”

He burst out laughing. “That was definitely random. Nope.”

“Huh.” Damn. Could it be possible he actually liked Sophie and chose to be with her
voluntarily
? I shuddered a little.

“Now I get to ask you one,” he said with an evil glint in his eyes. “What’s up with you and Mason?”

“What? Nothing! Less than nothing. We’re friends, end of story.”

“And that’s why I’ve seen him sneaking in and out of the basement at all hours of the night?” he asked, one eyebrow arched.

I stepped to the doorway and glanced past my brother and down the hall at my closed bedroom door. I hoped to God Ang hadn’t heard that. I looked at Bradley and lowered my voice to a near-whisper. “It’s not like that. I know how it looks, but it’s not what you think.”

He leaned in conspiratorially. “Do you need some of my condoms?” he asked in a stage whisper.

“Oh my God, do not talk to me about condoms, Bradley!” I slapped my hands over my ears and prayed he would just disappear. The thought of him and Sophie … no, no,
no
.

“Have fun tonight!” he called over his shoulder as he walked back upstairs.

I blow-dried my hair and tried to erase the past few minutes from my mind. Why Sophie?
Why?

I wasn’t worried that Bradley would tattle on me about Mason, but I realized there was no way I could explain to him what was really going on. I’d just have to let him believe that Mason and I were doing … whatever it was Bradley thought we were doing.

Ang emerged from my room and sashayed into the bathroom. She twirled once so I could admire her dress. It fit her perfectly, hugging her body and showing off her legs.

“You look gorgeous,” I said. “Toby won’t be able to keep his hands off you.”

She blushed and smiled. “How’s my hair?” The front was swept back and secured with the clip she’d bought, and she’d curled a few stray strands of soft ringlets around her face. She looked positively angelic.

“Seriously, Ang, you look amazing.”

“Want me to get out your dress and shoes?” she asked.

“Sure, thanks.” I pulled my hair up in a high ponytail and started curling chunks into tight ringlets. I twisted the ringlets and pinned them to my head around my ponytail to create a loose, textured bun. I pulled a few strands down around my face and curled the ends to soften the look.

Ang zipped me into my dress, and I stepped into the silver wedges. Mom came down to check our progress just as I was spritzing myself with perfume.

“You girls look … beautiful. So grown up.” Her hand fluttered across her heart.

She pulled out her camera, and Ang and I posed for a few shots. I was a tiny bit excited. Maybe I was getting into the whole dance thing. The doorbell rang, and the three of us filed upstairs. Mom opened the door, and Mason stood there in a black suit, green shirt, and gray-and-green striped tie. A green pocket square that matched the dark green in his tie was tucked into the breast pocket of his jacket. The waves of his sandy blonde hair were sprayed perfectly in place. I was actually speechless for a second.

“Hey, you look great!” I said when I finally found my voice. I motioned for him to come in.

My mom whistled and hugged him.

Mason turned to me, lifted my hand, and slipped a delicate, white rosebud corsage over my wrist. He bent down to kiss my cheek, and I inhaled the spicy vanilla smell of his soap.

“You look like a dream,” he whispered in my ear. It’s possible I might have blushed a little.

My mom pushed a white rose boutonniere at me, and my hands trembled as I pinned it to Mason’s lapel. My heart was dancing around like water on a griddle, and it was all I could do to tear my eyes from his. I had a crazy urge to touch the spot where his lips had brushed my cheek.

“So, are we ready to go?” Ang asked, practically jittering in her cream heels.

I grabbed my clutch and black, dress coat, and we waved goodbye to my mom as we trooped out to Ang’s mom’s Volkswagen. Mason opened the door for me, and I climbed into the backseat.

When we got to Toby’s house, Mason and I stayed in the car to let Ang have her moment. I stifled a yawn against the back of my hand. “I meant to take a nap this afternoon, but it didn’t happen. You must be exhausted, too.”

“Yeah, it was a rough night, wasn’t it?” He stuck his hand into his jacket and came out with a flask. With an evil smile, he removed the lid and took a swig, and then he held it out to me. I raised my eyebrows, but took the flask and drank a long pull. I coughed a little as the liquid burned a track from my mouth to my stomach.

“What the hell is that?” I coughed again.

“Just something to help us forget last night,” he said. He slipped the flask back into his jacket, slid his arm along the back of the seat, and leaned toward me. “We’re going to have a good time tonight if it kills us.”

Ang returned to the car with Toby, and I had to muffle a giggle against my fist. Ang was positively glowing, a perma-smile on her face. Toby turned around in the front passenger seat to say hello to me and Mason, and reached back to shake Mason’s hand. “Welcome back home, man. It’s good to see you.”

Ang cranked some vintage Madonna on the stereo and drove us the short distance to a little bistro where we had dinner reservations. There weren’t many fine-dining options in Tapestry, so several other Tapestry High couples already occupied tables.

During dinner, Mason told stories about his year in Africa, and Ang gazed at Toby while hardly touching her chicken cordon bleu. In the car on the way to the dance, Mason passed me the flask under the cover of darkness. I leaned down so Ang wouldn’t see me in the rearview mirror and drank a few swallows. I bit my lips to stifle a snicker and handed the flask back to Mason.

When we walked into the gym, the dance was in full swing. The DJ was blasting an upbeat dance song I’d heard on the radio a lot recently, and the dance floor was packed. We left our coats at the coat-check table, and Ang and Toby headed over to a far corner to get their picture taken. Mason grabbed my hand, and we weaved through the crowd to the drink table. His palm was warm against mine. On the way, several guys clapped him on the shoulder or waved. Most of Tapestry High hadn’t seen him in nearly half a year. Lots of female heads swiveled his way and watched us as we made our way through the gym. I could feel a blush spreading up my face.

I watched as Mason poured us two cups of pink, fruity-smelling liquid. The suit and slick hair make him look like an actor in a spy movie. He glanced around to make sure no one was watching, and then splashed each cup with his flask. With a wink, he handed me one of the cups. My heart did a little flip.

I was already pleasantly buzzed from our backseat cocktail on the way over, but I figured, what the hell?—and downed my cup in about three seconds. Feeling decidedly tipsy, I stumbled after him onto the dance floor where we got sucked into the mass of moving bodies. We shook it to a couple of fast songs, and I noticed that Mason was actually a pretty good dancer.

The lights lowered a little, and a slow song started. Everyone obediently stopped moving and paired up. Mason locked his arms around my waist. The glow I was feeling intensified at his touch. I slid my hands up to the base of his neck, and he leaned down until his mouth was at my ear. “How’re you feeling?”

“Excellent. Slightly drunk, but excellent,” I answered, and he chuckled. “How ‘bout you?”

He straightened and gave me a half-smile. “Awesome.”

We swayed around the dance floor. The end of the song melted into the beginning of another slow song. I was sure the alcohol had something to do with it, but I was the most relaxed, the most content I’d been in weeks. I felt good, but I was getting dizzy from the spinning lights. Mason’s arms tightened around me as if he sensed my unsteadiness. His eyes softened, and I knew he wanted nothing more in the world than to kiss me.

The next several seconds were in slow motion. I pulled him down to me and tilted my face upward. I saw his eyes register surprise, and then they brimmed with intensity. His lips met mine in the gentlest of touches, as if he were afraid a sudden move would break the spell. I closed my eyes, and the gym seemed to spin around us. We stopped swaying to the music and stood, heat spreading from our lips, locked in each other’s arms for seconds. An up-tempo song began, and Mason’s lips broke away from mine.

As the reality of the moment started to sink in, I felt someone’s eyes on us and glanced to my left. Bradley was about six feet away, watching us over Sophie’s shoulder. He grinned and gave me a sly, knowing nod. I shrugged ever so slightly. What could I possibly say in my defense? Now he’d never believe there wasn’t something going on between me and Mason.

I turned my attention back to Mason. He was searching my face. Just then, I remembered the picture of him and Sophie, and my whole speech about all the crap we were dealing with and how we should just be friends. What had I done?

|| 27 ||

BEFORE I COULD SAY anything to Mason, Ang and Toby threaded through the crowd to where we were standing.

“Did you get your picture taken yet?” Ang asked, looking from me to Mason. I shook my head. “You better get over there. The photographer’s leaving in, like, fifteen minutes.”

Numb, I glanced up at Mason and then walked toward the corner of the gym that boasted a fake stars-and-moonlight backdrop. I was still a little buzzed, but no longer happy and relaxed. I couldn’t even bring myself to look back to see if he had followed. My face burned as I mentally flogged myself. What the hell was I thinking?

I stopped between the velvet ropes set up near the photo area, and I felt Mason stop just behind me. There was one couple ahead of us in line, and the photographer was arranging another couple in front of the backdrop. A white, metal bench sat beneath a latticed archway with fake flowers wound up the posts. The girl sat primly on one end of the bench, and the guy stood behind, at his date’s shoulder.

Mason put his hand on my elbow and leaned down. I was afraid to meet his eyes. “Corinne, I think we need to talk,” he said, low enough so the couple ahead of us wouldn’t hear. His breath smelled like punch.

“Yeah,” I said, still staring straight ahead. “Um, I guess I didn’t realize how drunk I am.”

The couple in front of us moved toward the set, and I stepped forward and out of Mason’s reach. The couple took their place, and the set lights flashed a couple of times. Then it was our turn. I sat on the bench with my ankles crossed and my hands folded in my lap, and Mason stood behind me. I smiled woodenly, the lights flashed, and I tried to blink the spots out of my eyes.

Searching for Ang in the crowd, I turned back toward the dance floor. I prayed she was ready to go. My head was starting to hurt, and I really needed some water. Mason grabbed my forearm tightly and spun me around to face him.

“Will you just stop for a minute and talk to me?” His eyes were intent on mine. I glanced around. No one seemed to be watching, so I moved into the dark hallway leading to the locker rooms, and Mason stayed at my side. It was much quieter away from the main area of the gym, and I tried to sort out my muddled thoughts.