Pinehurst: Book One (A Magical Olympian Adventure/Young Adult Romantic Fantasy)

Chapter Ten

Chapter 10

Dinner was as to be expected: Iris was beaming. Her cunning ability to sneakily drag me downstairs where I received the ‘invitation of a lifetime’ was totally her doing.

“You can thank me. Come on . . . I know you want to.”

“Thank you, Iris.” I rolled my eyes at her, a slight smile escaping me.

“Ahahh! You must be so excited! How can you sit there and eat?” Gillian had just joined us. “The whole campus is buzzing about it.”

I eyed her with caution. I was afraid to ask what the “whole campus is buzzing about.”

As if sensing my confusion she added: “You and Roland . . . going . . . out . . . exclusively . . .” Gillian drew out each word as if savoring them.

“What? He asked me to the dance like . . . a minute ago. How did you find out so fast?” Too bad it wasn’t true. If only I had a ten-alarm crush on Roland instead of Antonio. Not that Roland was anything to sneeze at. He was super-cute. But he hadn’t stirred that something inside of me. That something that made my heart flutter. He also hadn’t made me feel like a child like Antonio had. Antonio. I growled mentally. I needed to push him out of my mind.

“Please,” Gillian continued, unaware that I’d drifted off to la-la land. “Nothing happens on this campus that I don‘t know about.” True. In the short time I’d been here, I’d quickly learned that Gillian was the eyes, ears, and nose of this place.

“I knew you had a reason for staying in sixth period P.E.” The sound of that voice . . . like nails on a chalkboard . . . I cringed. Stacy Wilcox and her witch squad were standing over me.

“It’s just a flippin’ dance. That’s all. We’re not ‘exclusive’.” I made little quotes in the air with my fingers. No doubt she’d heard that rumor as well. I stood up from the table to leave. I didn’t feel like listening to any of her crap tonight.

“Great. I suppose you’ll be at the after-party as well?” she glowered.

“What after-party?” I really hated feeling like Stacy knew more than me. She looked so smug.

“Oh please, Evie. Don’t pretend like you don’t know. Like you’re not planning on hanging out where you’re not wanted and wrecking my night.” Her haughty attitude was beyond just getting on my nerves. She may as well have been stomping up and down on them. The look of confusion on my face gave her more ammo. “The after-party at Chad’s you twit!”

Ohhh. That was so it. Stacy picked the wrong day to mess with me. I spied a busboy walking by with a half eaten plate of spaghetti . . .

“You idiot!” Stacy shrieked. The Kitchen erupted into a loud snicker. Stacy was standing with her arms extended, surveying her dress in horror. “It’s ruined! Absolutely ruined!”

“I’m sorry, Miss. I tripped!” The poor busboy looked like he was debating whether or not he should help her pick the spaghetti off her dress—he decided against it. The noodles had taken up permanent residence on her chest he knelt on the floor instead, retrieving the broken pieces of the plate.

“Oh Stacy, that’s too bad . . . and you were going to wear that to the dance, huh?” I didn’t even bother trying to conceal my happiness.

“Well, at least that ugly dress can be put out of its misery,” Gillian joked.

Stacy stormed out, leaving a trail of spaghetti and profanities behind her.

The girls hadn’t stopped laughing.