In Vendetta House (The Vendetta Series #1)

Chapter 37

Chapter 37

The first thing I notice in the room--lit quite bright unfortunately--is that someone is staring at me. I squint over the flashing, metallic lights the disco ball is casting. The direct glare hurts my eyes if I look at the bulbs for too long.

It takes a while to register the face, watching inquisitively and almost laced with hatred. Only when the girl's eyes flicker up to Jesse, does my brain finally make the connection she's that the girl who wanted to go to this dance with Jesse. Hayley.

I turn away, rolling my eyes to myself and pushing down my paranoia. There's no hatred there, only petty jealousy. I am imagining things. Everywhere I look, paranoia distorts and alters my judgment. She can scowl all she wants. I have a hot boy on my arm and she doesn't. Suck it.

I feel the arm on mine tremble with silent laughter.

"Hey!" I exclaim. "Quit reading my thoughts!"

"Sorry, sorry," he says, biting down on his quivering lip. "Sorry."

He's still laughing as Eric sidles up to us, leaving Sasha by the snack table bobbing her head to the loud music.

"When... the punch?" he shouts over the music. I barely hear a thing.

"Move closer!" I shout.

"Or just think it," Jesse argues.

Eric nods.

I don't bother tuning into Eric's thoughts. I wait, and when Jesse holds out all ten of his fingers then mouths the word minutes, I figure out he's asking when to spill the punch so Courtney knows to make the earthquake.

Eric does a half-nod, half-whatever-shrug and toddles off.

"Wanna dance?" Jesse screams over the music.

I look over to the crowd of people moving on the tiny floor with barely a gap to squeeze in. They had moved all the tables to the side, not completely out of the way. Despite the decorations, the place still looks like a cafeteria.

"There's no way we can squish our way out fast enough later," I shout. "Let's just go stand by the food table like they're doing!"

Jesse smiles, and grabs my arm before I can walk off. "Nuh-uh. The crowd can be easily solved."

He locates the bored looking, middle-aged teacher sitting on the stage up front. The man is in charge of controlling the computer that controls the music blaring out the speakers, but instead he's fiddling with a drink. I slant a look at Jesse again, curious at what he is doing.

Suddenly, the man reaches towards the computer, and half-way through the loud song, it switches to a slow, quieter one. Crowds immediately clear off the floor for drinks, most of the people now slow-dancing. It is still crowded in the small space, but easy enough to get out.

He holds out a hand. "Come on, princess."

I stand there, gobsmacked. Did he just use compulsion? In a very public place?

"What-?"

"I won't bite," he sings.

I snatch his hand, dragging him onto the dance floor indignantly. "I'm not scared of you, idiot."

"Right," he says. He places his hands by my waist. "You're just scared of my devastating good looks."

I laugh, one of my hands sliding around his neck and the other slapped onto his forehead. "Or maybe you're spouting a fever again from the compulsion."

He shakes his head. "Pay attention. That was influencing. I gently suggested he might like to change the song."

Gently suggested, my ass. That was risky.