“Boo,” I whisper, and they all scatter like leaves in the wind.
Ah, silly freshmen boys.
We start doing this for all the witches’ friends—and enemies. Whenever one of the girls leaps to the front, we fall in behind, following her cues. Every time we chase someone away, we collapse against each other in giggling fits. I’ve never had such a good time scaring people in all my life.
We keep up this pace for a solid two hours until an announcement is broadcast over the cafeteria sound system.
“Attention, houseguests. We ask that you please exit the house within the next ten minutes. The house is closing for a fifteen-minute break, but fear not! The house will reopen soon. Thank you, boos and ghouls.” The announcer sounds off with an evil laugh.
My shift is over after those ten minutes, and then the second crew will come on duty. I seriously need to pee and I’m desperate for something to drink. My throat hurts from all the witch talk and yelling. Plus I’m starving, and I bet Livvy is too. We’ll have to go check out the food booths and grab something to eat.
People start leaving the cafeteria in droves, so I cut out early and head to the bathroom in the back near the kitchen, which is closed off to the public. I handle my business, wash my hands, fix my smeared makeup as best as I can, then exit the bathroom, intent on finding Livvy so we can go get something to drink and eat.
But I stop short when I see who’s standing there. Like he’s waiting for me.
Tuttle.
“Hey.” His voice is soft and he keeps his distance, as if he’s afraid I’ll run. Or attack him.
“Hi.” I stay where I’m at, not wanting to get close for fear I might do something. Like run. Or attack him.
“How are you?”
Why are we making pointless small talk? “How did you get in here?”
He smiles sheepishly. “I bribed Elaine King.”
My mouth drops open. “She’s not bribeable.”
“Trust me. Everyone is bribeable. We all have a price.” His expression turns somber as he cuts his gaze away from mine.
His words make me fume, and I know he’s not referring to me, but still. I don’t like that he believes I have a price and that eventually, he’ll be able to meet it if he needs to. “Well, I can’t be bought. Not by you.”
Now he looks pained. “I know, Mandy. I’m not talking about you. It’s just…” His voice drifts and he thrusts his fingers through his hair, thoroughly messing it up. I wonder when was the last time he got it cut. It’s longer than usual, curling against his neck. I remember how soft it is…
And I am becoming completely distracted by his hair, which is ridiculous. I need to focus.
He makes it hard to focus, though. Not like the boy has to try too hard to distract me. All he has to do is stand there, wearing jeans and a black pullover hoodie, and I want to drool.
It’s seriously not fair.
“It’s just what?” I ask when he still hasn’t said anything.
“I’m already messing this up.” He blows out a harsh breath and flicks his gaze up to the ceiling before he looks at me again. “Can I just talk to you for a few minutes? Somewhere private?”
“I have plans to meet up with Livvy right now.” I’m not going to give in. He’ll just walk all over me again. Reel me in only to reject me, push me away, and I’ll be left behind a sobbing mess. I gave him too much power over me before. I can’t do that again.
“After the carnival then? Can I pick you up?”
“You’re not going to the carnival?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” His gaze sweeps over me, lingering on my chest. “You look amazing, by the way.”
“Thank you.” I want to say no. Yet I also want to say yes. Saying yes will result in me getting hurt. I’ll listen to what he has to say, he’ll feed me a line or two of complete crap, I’ll fall for it, we’ll spend time together, I’ll get my hopes up and then…
My hopes will come crashing down in a blaze of shame and low self-esteem and Livvy will tell me, “I told you so.”
I can’t go through that again.
“I don’t think I can meet with you after the carnival, Jordan,” I say, my voice soft. I see the hurt on his face, the pain in his eyes, and it makes me feel terrible. “I’m sorry, but I can’t go through this again. Have a good night.” I turn on my heel and walk away.
He follows after me. “Amanda, wait!” He grabs hold of my arm and stops me before I can get too far away. “Could we maybe talk tomorrow?”
“What else is there to talk about?” I jerk out of his hold and throw my hands in the air, wishing I could throw a punch at him instead. When I don’t want him to be persistent is, of course, when he actually is.
I can’t win with him. I just…can’t.