What Lies Beneath ▸ House of Anubis [1]

chapter fifty-four. house of revelation

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            Apparently Amber was so impressed with Mara's performance as school rep—she successfully got Sweet and Andrews to agree that for every item damaged it would be compensated—that she went about convincing her to convince the teachers about having an end-of-term prom. Usually there's just a party at the end of term, but Amber wants a full-out prom.

            Me thinks she's been around the American too much.

            But even if Sweetie does agree to the prom, which is unlikely, end-of-term isn't far from now and there probably wouldn't be enough time to plan it all, and let me reiterate: it's very unlikely Mr. Sweet will let us have a prom instead of our regular house party in which the action only takes place at Anubis.

            "Amber Millington, you shall go to the ball!" Mara happily announces as she comes into the living room, where she, Fabian, Mick, and I are hanging out before supper. Fabian's setting the table and Amber is supposed to be helping him, but has been sat on a chair for the past ten minutes with a magazine in front of her. "Sweetie's agreed to let us have an end-of-term prom."

            I gape at her. No way. "He has?"

            Amber squeals as Mara nods, and then finishes, "So long as all of us help with organizing it."

            "Oh, I'm not really sure that's my thing, babes," says Mick as she sits beside him. I'm with him—there's no way I'm helping to organize the prom. Amber would veto every idea I gave her, probably. Might be best to let her handle the aesthetics of it all.

            "It's a brilliant idea!" Amber muses. "Maybe because it was my idea in the first place. I think we should definitely only invite boys with gorgeous hair or boys who can dance. Or both of the above...or maybe all of them."

            I laugh to myself as Fabian pointedly offers Amber the forks and knives, because she's supposed to be helping him. "Oh, don't give her a fork, Rutter," I remark. "She'll start dragging it through her hair and calling it a dinglehopper." I snap my fingers and point at Amber. "Under the sea theme?"

            "No," Amber says flatly. See? Veto.

            "So Fabian, who are you going to invite to the prom, then?" Mick inquires.

            Fabian awkwardly clears his throat, even though we all know the answer already. Amber suggests nonchalantly, "A certain play-writing scholarship student with a thing for antiques and apple pie?"

            "Of course he'll be taking Nina," Mara comments definitively as she, Mick, and I get up from our spots, "if he ever gets around to asking her."

            "Look, Nina," Fabian repeats like it's the most ridiculous thing ever as he sets the forks and knives down at the placemats. Boy's a horrible liar. "I don't know why you keep going on about Nina. Me and her, we're totally not an item."