But I didn’t. I stayed.

He’d walked away because I’d gotten information from Sebastian. It’s not like I didn’t get why he was irritated, but what was the difference between me texting Sebastian and Detroit planting a camera? Not much, as far as I could see.

I muscled through the day without crying even though every minute felt twice as long as usual. And by the end of the day, I was ready for a night of pajamas and movies instead of Enclave drama. But since we were in the middle of a magical crisis, there was no way that was going to happen.

I was still a member of the Sneak planning committee (however stupid that idea seemed now), so after class I walked to the gym and helped make fringed garland out of sheets of black crepe paper. Lesley was at cello practice, which left me alone in a nest of brat packers and brat pack wannabes. I could hear their sniping across the room while I cut strips of paper, but I was having enough of a pity party that I hardly cared. There was something kind of Zen about cutting one strip of paper after another. It wasn’t exactly exciting work, but I got into a rhythm that helped clear my brain of everything else.

And sometimes that’s what a girl needed—a clear brain for just a little while.

It didn’t take long for Veronica and the rest of them to take advantage of the fact that I was vastly outnumbered. Veronica and M.K. walked over, leaving Amie and Lisbeth on the other side of the room.

“What’s up, Freak?” M.K. asked.

I ignored her and made eye contact with Veronica. I wondered if she had any idea who’d left the note at her door, or arranged her meeting with Nicu. But if she suspected I was the one, she certainly didn’t look it.

“I’m here to make garland,” I said. “Not talk to you.”

“Like we’d talk to you on purpose,” M.K. said, apparently not realizing that’s exactly what she was doing. “Do you even have a date for the dance?”

Honestly, I had no idea. But I wasn’t about to tell her that. “Of course. And he’s even my age.”

M.K., who tended to date guys old enough to drink and rent cars, rolled her eyes. “Like you could even get an older guy, Parker. What kind of freak would want you?”

A werewolf, I guessed, at least before he thought I’d betrayed him.

They made another snarky comment, then picked up armfuls of the garland and gave me a dirty look before walking back to the rest of the group.

“Freak,” M.K. muttered.

“Totally,” Veronica said, but she glanced back at me and dropped her eyes guiltily. Maybe the girl had a conscience after all, as little good as it did. Next time I had the urge to help her out, I decided to stick a pencil in my eye instead. I’d probably get less trouble out of it.

“Thanks,” I called out. “You’re welcome for the garland.”

They rolled their eyes and offered snorty laughs.

Ugh. I was not a fan of today.

* * *

I got a little pickup after dinner when Scout found a giant box addressed to her outside the suite door. She brought it inside, but didn’t seem the least bit interested in what was in the box. I was plenty interested, so I followed her back to her room.

“Don’t you want to open it?”

She sat down on her bed and rifled through the stuff in her messenger bag. “It’s from my parents. I already have a pretty good idea of what it is.”

“Which is?”

“Something stupid expensive.”

“Electronics? Fine linens? Heavyweight diamonds? What?”

“Do you really have to know? Like, right this second?”

“I’m not very patient.”

Scout rolled her eyes, but gave in. “Fine.”

She pulled the box onto her lap and slid a fingernail beneath the seal to open the box. When she lifted up the lid, she revealed neatly folded pinstripe tissue paper.

“Clothes?”

“Not just,” she said, unfolding one delicate sheet of paper at a time. “Clothes picked out by my mother.”

She pulled out a dress in the greenest green I’d ever seen. It was sleeveless, knee-length satin with a swingy skirt. The satin was topped by a layer of black lace in huge whorls and flowers.

“That is hideous,” she said, just as “That is amazing” escaped my lips.

Our answers were simultaneous, and we immediately looked at each other.

She held the dress out at arm’s length, nose wrinkled in disgust. “How can you like this thing? It’s so . . . green. And it probably cost, like, three thousand dollars. Somebody at some fancy store convinced her it was the latest thing and she picked it up. I guess the thought is nice, but the dress is awful.”

“Are you kidding? How can you possibly say that? That lace is fantastic. And I like the green.”

“Maybe so, but it’s not me. It’s not who I am.” She lowered the dress and looked at me with a sneaky glint in her eye. “But it might be you.”

“Me? Oh, no.” I shook a finger at her. “First off, I probably don’t even have a date. And even if I did, I’m not wearing a three-thousand-dollar dress. Are you crazy? What if I spilled punch on it? What if I got a rip in it?” I pointed at the ground. “What if demon zombies burst out of the ground and get their, like, putrescence on it?”

“Putrescence?”

“Doesn’t that totally sound like something a demon zombie would have? You know, like, oozing from its pores and stuff?”