Tortured: Book Three of the Jason and Azazel Trilogy (15 page)

* * *

There were about five people pulling my hair in
completely different directions. We were standing in front of the mirror in
Faruza's and Fairie's gorgeous suite, where they had a bathroom the size of a
small country. The mirror was enormous, and everyone was trying to help me get
ready. Since I'd told everyone I planned on doing my hair and makeup myself,
everyone had jumped on the bandwagon, and we were all getting ready together.
It was a madhouse.
"I was really going to do this myself," I protested, trying to swat
people away from my hair.
"Don't be silly," said Faruza. "We're all here."
Rita tapped a picture in an open magazine, which the girls were trying to copy.
It was a complicated updo with tendrils of curls falling out of it in a tousled
look. It was very pretty.
 
"Jason likes my hair down," I said.
"Boys always say that," said Fairie. "They say they want
everything simple, but they're just saying that because they don't understand
what they want."
Or maybe they really did like things simple—girls with no makeup who wore their
hair down. And maybe we just did all this fussy dressing up stuff for other
girls, not actually for boys.
Faruza yanked my head sideways and began rolling up a section of my hair with a
curling iron. I guessed I was just going to have to sit tight.
Within twenty minutes, my hair was completely and totally curled. I surveyed my
face in the mirror, surrounded by corkscrew curls. They were pretty. Rita put
her hands on my head and began running her fingers through them.
 
"What are you doing?" I asked her. I'd really liked my corkscrew
curls.
 
"Achieving tousled perfection," she informed me. "Trust
me."
While Rita and the Weem twins were using an entire box of bobby pins on my
head, pinning up my tousled curls, the phone in the dorm room rang. Palomino
ran to answer it. We could hear her in the bedroom.
 
"What?" she was saying. "Why?" She was quiet for a few
seconds. "Okay," she said finally and hung up.
Palomino came into the bathroom. "You guys aren't going to be happy,"
she said.
"What?" said
Fairie.
"That was the dorm mother," she said. "Campus is on lockdown.
Apparently, there's some kind of external threat. They didn't say what, but she
said it sometimes happens if one of the kids is in danger of being kidnapped or
something."
"Yeah," said Rita, "when that
Norwich
girl who graduated a few years ago
was nearly kidnapped, the campus went on lockdown."
"Anyway, the dance is still on," said Palomino, "but no one can
leave campus until we get the all clear."
"Wait," said Fairie. "That means no hotel rooms after the
dance?"
Mina nodded.
"Yeah.
That's what she said."
"That means no parties," said Rita.
"I'm calling my dad," said Faruza.
I excused myself to the hallway and called Jason. This whole thing kind of
worried me. He picked up after a few rings.
"What's up?" he said.
"Did you guys hear about the lockdown?" I asked.
"Yeah.
Some of the guys down the hall are really
pissed off because they booked expensive hotel rooms. Kinda sucks for them, I
guess."
"It's an external threat. You don't think it has anything to do with us,
do you?"
"Us?" he said. "Why would it?"
"What if it's the Sons? What if they're trying to get to us?"
"Jesus, Azazel. You worry about the Sons way too much. They don't even
know where we are."
"Yeah, but they don't seem to have much trouble finding us. And now that
we're like the most popular people on campus, we're not exactly low profile.
The head said we were special. Moretti knows who we are. George might. Lots of
people might."
Jason sighed. I could tell he was moving from wherever he was because the
sounds in the background got muffled. "Okay," he said finally.
"There is an army of Brothers in the basement of the library. They are all
armed and trained to fight. We are safe, or did you forget that conversation we
had?"
"I just . . . I . . ."
"Azazel,
it's
prom. One day, that's all I want. I
want one completely normal, perfect, high school memory, okay? I am going to
come and get you, and I am going to give you a corsage, and you are going to be
wearing that dress you were carrying, and then we are going to dance and have
fun and nothing bad is going to happen. Okay?"
I sighed. "Okay."
The background noises returned. They sounded kind of electronic. "I love
you."
"I love you too," I said. "What are you doing?"
"Chance and I are playing video games," he said. "What are you
doing?"
"Getting ready for the dance," I said.
"It's not for hours," he said.
I rolled
my eyes. Boys.

* * *

When Jason saw me, his eyes lit up.
I had been a little worried, especially since my hair was up, and I was
wearing a lot more makeup than usual. But the dress Palomino had helped me pick
out was definitely perfect.
 
The dress was a rose-colored, tea-length gown. It was strapless, and the
heart-shaped bodice gave me just a little tasteful cleavage. It gathered at the
waist with a black sash. The skirt was full, with lots of asymmetrical ruffles.
I hadn't gone overboard with accessories, just a few bangly bracelets and some
sparkly, dangly earrings. My neck was bare, and so were my ankles. The dress
made me feel elegant, but I liked its simplicity and its funky detail. Standing
at the top of the steps in my dorm room, I looked down over the railing into
the foyer.
Jason and Chance were waiting for us.
I took one step onto the steps and began to descend slowly. I kind of had to,
because my heels were really high and otherwise, I would have tripped. But with
the dress swishing around my legs, the ruffles bouncing, I felt like a
debutante or a princess. Jason and Chance gaped up at Mina and me as we made
our slow descent. It did feel perfect. Like something out of a teen movie.
 
When I reached Jason, he held out my corsage. "You look beautiful," he
murmured. "I'm afraid to touch you. I don't want to mess you up."
I laughed. "Don't be silly," I said, and I kissed him.
And then he had lipstick on his face. I tried to wipe it off.
"Sorry," I said.
He grinned. "I don't think I really care if people can tell I've been
kissing you."
The corsage was simple and pretty—a single red
rose
bed of baby's breath. As he slipped it over my wrist, he worried, "It
matches, right? You said the dress was red."
I twirled. "You like it?"
He took me in again, a wide, silly grin on his face. "I love it," he
whispered, sliding his arm around my waist in a way that made me feel tiny and
delicate. He led me out of the dorm.
 
In Bramford, we would have had to drive to the prom, probably in a limo, which
was the tradition. Since we were only going across campus to the main hall,
however, we walked. Mina and Chance walked ahead of us, hand in hand,
occasionally whispering things in each other's ears. I smiled looking at them.
I wouldn't have wanted my brother to be a teenager father if you'd consulted
me, but I was glad he was with Mina. They seemed happy and, besides the worry
about the baby, they were carefree. No one was chasing them and trying to kill
them. More than anything, that was what I wanted for my little brother. I
didn't want him to ever have to worry about that kind of violence.
 
I shuddered, thinking about my dream about Chance. In the dream, I'd had to
pick between Chance and Jason. In reality, I hoped I never had to make a choice
like that, because I didn't know what I'd do.
 
The campus was decorated for prom with paper lanterns strung along the
walkways. Candles were lit on each of the steps to the entrance of the main
hall. Inside, the room didn't look much different than it did most of the time.
It wasn't like proms back in Bramford, where the walls of the gym would be
covered in paper, with cardboard cutouts of pillars and fountains overflowing
with balloons. There was also was no ubiquitous disco ball in the middle of the
room.
Instead, the room had been set up with two rows of round tables, each covered
in a white linen table cloth, with fine china and silverware settings. Each
table had a centerpiece of white roses. Someone had taken the time to light the
very old chandelier that was in the middle of the room. The chandelier was lit
entirely by candles. I looked up at it, wondering if it would drip wax on the
dance floor. The dance floor wasn't nearly as large as it might have been at a
prom in
West Virginia
.
It was only a wide aisle between the tables.
 
They had put up different curtains than the ones that usually decorated the
main hall. These were white with gold patterns woven through them, and they
swept the floor. The windows in the main hall were quite tall, since the
ceiling in the room was vaulted, so the curtains were pretty impressive.
Overall, the room had a feeling of understated elegance, but no hint of
gaudiness or excess. It was beautiful. It was gorgeous. It was definitely a
room to have a perfect high school memory in.
 
The
evening was soon underway. There was a sit-down
dinner, brought to us by waiters in tuxedos. Because we were in
Italy
, it
consisted of about a trillion courses. I was terrified of dropping food on my
dress, so I ate carefully and didn't stuff myself. While we were finishing
dessert, the music started and the lights came down. The first song came and
went without anyone entering the dance floor. But during the second song,
couples began to wander out into the aisle and dance.
Chance
and Mina, who were sitting with us at our table, left.
I spotted Faruza
and George. Fairie was dragging her date out with her.
 
Jason and I sat at the table alone. I was poking the remains of my flan with my
fork. I'd really been too full to take more than a few bites. He smiled at me.
 
"I guess this is the part where we dance," I said.
 
"About the dancing," he said. "I'm not really very good at
it."
I took my napkin off my lap and threw it over my flan. "Oh come on,"
I said. "What do guys really have to do when dancing?" I gestured to
Faruza and George. George was standing behind Faruza with his hands on her
waist while she ground her butt into his pelvis.
Jason laughed. "Yeah, okay.
Like you're pulling that
move off in your heels."
"
I thought this was supposed to be our perfect high school
memory," I said to him. "My perfect high school memory involves
dancing."
"Slow dancing, though, right?" he said. "Like where we just
stand next to each other and sway?"
"Jason!" I said.
 
"Give it a second," he said, smiling.
The second song was ending. It was quiet for a few minutes, and then the sound
of a screaming guitar solo overtook the room. Jason grinned and stood up,
holding out his hand.
"Guns n' Roses?"
I asked, grinning at him.
Jason really liked Guns n' Roses. "Did you set this up?"
"'Sweet Child O' Mine,'" he said. "It's as slow of a song as
they have."
I was laughing, but I put my hand in his and allowed him to lead me onto the
dance floor, which had largely cleared, because the girls weren't totally sure
how to grind to this.
 
Jason put his hands on my waist. I wrapped my arms around his neck. And we
started swaying. "Sweet Child O' Mine" might have been one of Guns
and Roses' slower songs, but it had a relatively quick tempo, so we had to sway
pretty quickly.
 
Jason smiled down at me, looking deep into my eyes and started mouthing the
words to me. I just laughed and buried my face in his tux. He lifted my chin
and whispered in my ear, "Looking at you does take me away to a special
place."
I playfully poked him. "Yeah," I said. "That's because you are
 
special
,
Jason."
He grabbed the hand that I'd poked him with and wrapped it back around his
neck. "I mean it." And he was serious. "I don't know what I'd do
without you."
My grin melted into a small, happy smile. "Me either," I said.
"You're like the other part of me," he said. "Without you, I
feel like half a person."
I knew what he meant. I just nodded.
 
And with our eyes locked on each other, silly smiles on our faces, he lowered
his lips to mine and kissed me. And there was nothing sweeter on earth than
kissing Jason's lips.
 
Jason insisted on only dancing to slow songs, but I eventually got Palomino to
dance with me a couple of times, when I could pry her and Chance away from each
other. They were constantly making googly eyes at each other, even if they were
across the room from each other. It was nice, seeing the two of them happy
again.
 
Of course, the weird popularity continued. Everyone in the room stopped to
compliment my hair or my dress or to tell Jason and me how awesome we looked.
And the DJ played essentially anything I asked him to play. The night wore on.
Then the head of the school stopped the music and took a microphone to speak.
The waiters from before were weaving through the crowd and handing out tall crystal
flutes filled with champagne. We were all allowed one glass, since the drinking
age for beer and wine in
Italy
was sixteen. Fairie whispered in my ear not to drink it yet, though. We were
going to use it to toast the prom king and queen. Well, they didn't call it the
prom king and queen, but that was basically what it was.
Currently, the head was droning on and on about it. "Every year, here at
the
Sol
Solis
School
, the faculty selects a male and
female student who we feel embodies the spirit of the
Sol
Solis
School
. These students are high academic
achievers, participants in the events the school's activities, good citizens,
and are students who their peers look up to. These students are given the honor
of being recognized as the Primo and Prima of the Spring Formal.
"During many of our past years, the process of choosing two such students
has been an arduous affair, but this year, two students immediately stood out
to all of us, and we unanimously chose them with very little discussion. I know
that each of you here will also recognize how much these two students are the
obvious choices this year, and will join me in congratulating Amy Smith and
Jeremy Black as this year's first couple."
At first I looked around for the people who had those names. Then I remembered
that that was us. Jason and I exchanged a stunned glance. We were the king and
queen of the prom?
Really?
I didn't know what to do with my glass of champagne, but Faruza took it from
me.
 
Jason and I walked up to the front of the room amid resounding cheers and
applause from the rest of the student body and the teachers. It didn't die down
even when we reached the front of the room. In fact, it seemed to go on
forever.
 
It was cool, but it was still, well, weird. I kept waiting for the head to
shush everyone, but he didn't. He just let the applause and cheers continue. He
was still clapping himself. When it finally did start to die down, he said,
"I think we can all agree that it's been a pleasure interacting with these
two. They truly are an asset to the school."
More cheers and applause.
Jason and I just stood
there, frozen, feeling like idiots. We waited again for an agonizingly long
time for the cheers to die down. Why did everyone suddenly like us so much?
What was going on?
"All right," said the head. "We will now all lift our glasses to
the Primo and Prima of the
Sol
Solis
School
.
Cin cin!"
(
Which is how they
say "cheers" in
Italy
.)
"Cin cin!" echoed the rest of the people in the room and then they
all sipped at their champagne.
I wanted my champagne. I felt like I needed a drink to fully deal with the fact
that everyone thought Jason and I were the best thing since canned peaches.
"And now," said the head, "the traditional dance between the
Primo and Prima."
Music swelled behind us. Jason took my hand and led me out onto the dance
floor. When I looked up at his face, his eyes were shining. He grinned down at
me. "This is perfect," he whispered. "It's better than anything
I could have imagined. This is all I've ever wanted."
I felt immediately guilty. Here I was contemplating how weird the whole thing
was, and Jason was enjoying it. We were at a dance. We'd just been crowned the
king and queen. We were living the teen dream. Why did I have to pick
everything apart and look for the danger? Why couldn't I accept that something
good was happening to me? If I just lay my head on Jason's shoulder and felt
the warmth of his arms around me, maybe I could just soak up the incredible
excellence of this moment, like Jason was doing. Maybe I could—
Of course not. The reason I couldn't accept that something good was happening
to me was that nothing good ever happened to me.
 
And that simple fact of my life was made perfectly clear when I heard the crash
of breaking glass.
Déjà vu.
 
The glass of the windows shattered to the ground, and I could only think about
my Aunt Stephanie's house.
November.
My parents sitting around a table.
Bullets
exploding through their heads.
Blood spilling on the table, on my Aunt
Stephanie's white carpet.
 
And the Sons of the Rising Son bursting in through the
windows shooting.
Just
like they were doing now. At my prom.