Bouncing from foot to foot in a state of perpetual motion, taking numerous gulps from her goblet, not allowing it to sit empty for even a second before she’s dipping into Roman’s supply of elixir and refilling again.
The same elixir she claims to be far more powerful than the one Damen brews, and from the looks of her, and from what I experienced in the school bathroom, I’ve no doubt it’s true.
Even though her words are completely drowned out by the music and the blaring percussion that vibrates the walls, it’s not like I need to listen to know what’s really going on here.
She’s worse than I thought.
She’s losing control of herself.
While she may be able to influence her rapt group of listeners, keeping them mesmerized, entranced, and happy to focus only on her—she’s far too fidgety, far too frenzied and turbulent to keep it going much longer.
She reaches for the goblet again, tossing her head back and taking a long, deep swill. Running her tongue over her lips, desperate to catch every last drop, her eyes practically glowing as she repeats the sequence again—and again—drinking and pouring, pouring and drinking—leaving no doubt in my mind she’s addicted.
Having been to that dark place myself, I know all the signs. Know just what it looks like.
Though it’s not like I’m all that surprised. This is pretty much what I expected from the moment she turned against me and went off on her own. Though I am surprised that her new group of friends pretty much consists of every Bay View High School student who’s ever been dumped on by Stacia, Craig, or any other member of the A list crew—while the A list itself, the group she was last seen cozying up to on the first day of school, is decidedly absent.
And I’m just starting to get it, just starting to understand what it is that she’s up to, when I hear:
“Ever?”
I turn, my gaze meeting Honor’s as she pauses on her way to the door.
“What’re you doing here?” She squints, carefully eyeballing me.
I glance between her and the house, knowing my hiding place near the bushes and my surprise at being caught pretty much reveals everything that I won’t.
The silence lingering between us so long, I’m just about to break it when she says, “Haven’t seen you around school lately—I was starting to think you dropped out.”
“It’s been a week.” I shrug, knowing that as far as a defense goes, it’s a lame one. Still, I could’ve been sick, could’ve come down with mono or a bad case of the flu, so why does everyone just assume I dropped out?
Am I really that big of a weirdo/loser to them?
She juts her hip to the side and drums her fingers against it, taking a moment to really look me over before saying, “Really? A week—is that all?” She bobs her head back and forth as though mentally weighing my words. “Huh. Seems so much longer. Must be the fastest social revolution in all of history.”
I narrow my gaze, not liking the sound of that, but determined to not say a word—or at least not yet anyway. I’m hoping my silence will get her so pumped up and carried away, so eager to impress me with whatever it is that she’s done, she’ll reveal far more than she ever intended.
“Surely you’ve heard?” She tosses her hair over her shoulder as she starts to move toward me. “I guess I just assumed that’s why you’re here, spying on Haven and all. But, whatever, all you need to know is that it worked. Stacia is history and Haven has taken her place.” Her eyes flash as she allows her lip to curl just the tiniest bit, no doubt feeling mo
re than a little pleased with herself. “Things are very, very different around Bay View these days. But, heck, don’t take my word for it, why don’t you drop by and see for yourself?”
I take a deep breath, resisting the urge to react, to pay any real notice to her mocking tone, her sense of superiority. It’s exactly what she wants, and I’m not about to comply.
Still, I am hoping to knock her down a notch when I say, “Excuse me, but did you just say Haven’s taken Stacia’s place?”
Honor nods, still smirking, still feeling all puffed up and triumphant.
“Sooo…” I narrow my eyes, dragging out the word as I take a moment to slowly look her over. Taking in her designer flats, black leggings, and the long-sleeved, clingy T-shirt that hangs well past her hips. My gaze finding its way back to hers when I say, “How does that make you feel?”
She glances toward the window, watching as Haven continues to entertain her minions, before returning to me. Her confidence beginning to waver, to fade, just like her aura, wondering just what it is that I’m getting at.
“I mean, that’s not quite the coup you had planned, now is it?”
She exhales loudly, deeply, gazing at the street, the yard, anywhere but me.
“Because, if I remember right, your whole deal was that you were tired of being number two—and now, well, from what you just told me anyway, you actually kind of missed the revolution since you’re still number two. I mean, think about it, Honor, according to what you just said, the only change is that you’re now Haven’s shadow instead of Stacia’s—or at least that’s how it sounded to me.”
She crosses her arms before her, so quickly, so violently, the bag on her shoulder slips down to her elbow and bangs hard against her thigh. But she pays it no notice, just narrows her gaze on mine when she says, “I was sick of dealing with Stacia’s crap. And now, thanks to a little help from Haven, I don’t have to. No one has to. Stacia is nothing more than a big washed-up has-been who no one pays any attention to. She doesn’t matter anymore, and you shouldn’t feel sorry for her.” She lifts her brow and scowls.