My skin prickles with awareness. Something about this doesn’t feel quite right. I scan the ballroom, finding the Earl and Avery standing nearby. Both look downright happy now. That can’t be good.
Before I can figure out what’s happening, the slow music kicks back up to a furious jig. Grabbing my hand, Aldo spins me around the dance floor. As I twirl and sway, I’m handed off to a succession of men with yellow, blue, purple, and pink crests. Adair, Nita, and Keisha always seem to be nearby. Either those Great Ladies are the worst dancers in Antrum, or they’re purposely stepping on the back of my dress every few seconds. This goes on for a while until I realize something.
It’s very chilly in the ballroom…But just on my backside.
I reach around to test the back of my dress, only to find out that it’s no longer there. I gasp. All the back panels of my gown are gone. Those little multi-colored creeps figured out how to pull out the stitches on my dress. No wonder they were playing around with it until a few hours before the ball. Adair, Nita, and Keisha stop dancing and start laughing their silly little heads off.
Twisting about, I try pulling the two side panels of my gown together to hide my bum, but there simply isn’t enough fabric. The entire dance floor starts laughing. My face turns at least eighteen shades of red.
Cissy appears out of nowhere. Standing behind me to cover my backside, she sets her hands on my shoulders and shoves me toward a bank of windows along the far wall. Once there, she points to an arched panel of glass. “This is a door to the hedgerow maze. Flip up the lock and twist that handle.”
I do as she instructs; we quickly step outside. Grabbing my hand, Cissy leads me to the mansion’s opposite wing. There, in the safety of the shadows, she sets me onto a bench by one of the maze entrances.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t think.” Cissy frowns.
My body feels numb. Did that really happen? Who pulls out the backs of dresses, honestly? “Don’t beat yourself up. How could you have known they’d do something like that?”
“It’s not that part, it’s…” Cissy bites her bottom lip.
A chill crawls up my spine. “There’s more to the story, isn’t there?” I press my palms to my eyes, feeling my stomach tumble to my feet. “Lay it on me.”
“Well, you know how your thrax underwear had black lines on it this time?”
“Yeeeeeeeeah.”
“When yours were on, they spelled something in Latin.”
“Latin?” That lying, sneaky, backstabby Adair and her doofus father.
“Yeah. I guess all thrax can speak it.”
I open my fingers to look at her out of my left eye. “And what exactly is written on my ass right now?”
“Cunnus. C-U-N-N-U-S. I heard the thrax talking. I guess it means…”
“I know what it means.” I rebury my head in my hands. “Cissy! You should have said something!”
“Okay, it totally looked strange. But you were so twitchy about the underwear. I didn’t want another diplomatic snafu.” Cissy crinkles her bottom lip.
I grip the edge of the bench like I’ll snap it in two. Rage boils through my bloodstream. “I love you Cissy, but you’ve been nothing but a high maintenance nightmare for months now.” I tick off her misdeeds on my fingers. “First, you go crazy with envy that Lincoln’ll get my attention when you’re waaaaaay too into Zekie. Second, you give me the silent treatment for what’s basically no good reason. And third, you neglect to mention that I’m walking out the door with CUNNUS written on my butt. This hurts in a serious way and it’s got to stop.” My eyes flare red. “Not to mention the fact that it’s ruined my last night with Lincoln.”
Cissy’s eyes grow large; she pops her hand over her mouth. “I’m soooo sorry, Myla.” Her bottom lip quivers. “You’re right; I’ve been a really bad friend.” She sits down beside me on the bench. “Talk to me. Please. What can I do to make it up to you?”
I speak through gritted teeth. “Go back to the ball and have Zeke drive you home. I want to be alone for a while.” A weight settles on my chest. Lincoln’s off on demon patrol, somewhere on Earth. We had a fun night planned and now this. Man, do I ever need to kill something.
Cissy gnaws on her thumbnail. “I’m really sorry.”
“I know.” My voice drips with frustration and rage. “I need some time, that’s all.”
“Okay.” She glances toward the mansion’s distant lights. “If I ride home with Zeke, you’re really fine driving Betsy back alone?”
“Yup.” Leave already.
She takes a few hesitant steps away. “Call you tomorrow?”
I ball my hands into fists and nod. If I say anything else, I’ll lose my temper for sure. Then Cissy’ll have a black eye to match the one I gave Zeke all those years ago. Cissy’s footsteps slop in the muddy grass, growing more distant with each stride. Soon they disappear altogether.