Once I was certain Lucien was gone, I pushed my blanket off and plopped into the chair at my desk. Pens rolled in a drawer when I pulled it open, and rolled again when I shut it. With a pen in hand, I swept up a piece of paper and drew up an invitation for Rhett to come over.
I folded it shut, sealed it, and scribbled Rhett's name on the front. I didn't know his letterbox number, so I pulled a thick, yellow book from the shelf titled The Witch Pages. Flipping it open, I scanned the names and dragged my finger across the pages until I found his name and number. I wrote it in the top-right corner beneath a green stamp and tossed it into my letterbox.
The mail vanished with nothing more than a ring of a bell. I stood, stretched my arms over my head, and started for the door. Another bell. I craned my head for a peek. I had mail already? That was fast. I returned to the desk and lifted the letter. Rhett. He must have been sitting at his box waiting to slip the letter in. Ripping it open, I read.
We're going out for misery cones. RC.
I grabbed my wallet and tossed the letter in the trash bin before heading downstairs to wait. The doorbell rang as I made it to the entry. I pulled a coat on and opened the door before my parents could get to us.
"Misery cones, huh?" I asked, stepping out. Hands buried in my pockets, I joined him down the steps.
"Yeah. I've got some news too. The way I see it, we can be miserable together at Norbert's."
"You and your candy." I smiled fondly.
Rhett raised his nose with a sniff. "It's not candy. This is a delicacy."
"They're toffee cones filled with ice cream."
"Exactly. It's ice cream." As he approached the car, it unlocked with a beep.
Humming, I looked the car over. "I didn't know you had a license."
A brief silence lapsed before Rhett pulled the door open. "Of course, I do. Do you think I'd drive if I didn't? What do you take me for?"
So, no. He didn't have a license. I sank into the passenger's seat, sighed, and pulled the seat-belt on. "If you kill me, I'll never let your spirit rest."
"Relax, Vee. I'm the smoothest driver in Hillfort."
Norbert's Confectionery was tucked within a circle of shops in town. A round door opened to a shop bright with colors and wallpaper enchanted to sparkle and move. As we stepped through the doorway, warmth fell over us in a wave that made my nose and cheeks tingle. We passed half-shelves filled with jars of candies
"Welcome back, Mr. Collins," a voice shouted from the counter. A heavy-set man crossed his hulking arms above his belly and his thick mustache rose as he grinned.
"Evening, Norbert." Rhett held up two fingers. "Two misery cones, please."
"Actually, I'll have a hot chocolate." I gestured to an advertisement hanging behind the counter before sliding a handful of bills forward. Enough to pay for both of us. "It's too cold for ice cream."
"She's right, Mr. Collins. You sure about this?"
"Yes," Rhett said, sliding his wallet into his pocket with a disapproving glance in my direction. "Nothing else picks me up like a misery cone."
Norbert cackled and turned, his steps pounding on the floor as he crossed the bar to the ice cream machines. "Introduce us, hm? We've never met."
"You've never been here?" Rhett said, his eyebrows flying up and his mouth dropping open.
I shrugged. "No."
"Norbert, this is Vera T—ugh." Rhett cleared his throat. "Yeah. Vee, this is Norbert."
"A pleasure," Norbert said, returning with an ice cream, which he handed to Rhett. "Do you like more sweet or bitter?"
"Bitter, please."
"I thought as much. One moment, Miss Vera." Norbert vanished through a door behind the counter into a room that appeared to be a kitchen.
He thought as much? Did I look like an obviously bitter person? Rhett hadn't even noticed the comment. He was already biting into his ice cream and humming with delight.
At the sound of heavy steps, Norbert came through the doorway with a steaming mug. "Careful, it's hot."
I took it, the heat immediately warming my fingers, and smiled. "Thank you, sir."
"Of course. Enjoy, Miss Vera."
Rhett led us to an outdoor patio with glass, fairy lights and heat lamps. We sat in a couple of cushioned chairs at a corner table. Something about the patio was charming and homey. Getting comfortable in my seat, I sipped at the hot chocolate and licked my lips. It wasn't too rich or too sweet, but subtle. Excellent. I lifted my stare to Rhett.
A triumphant little grin slid across his face. "Good, right?"
I nodded.
"Now that that's settled," Rhett said, scratching behind his ear. "Tell me how it . . . you know . . . happened."
Resting the cup on the wooden surface of the table I leaned back and surveyed the area. Most people floated about in their own worlds, thankfully, so I told him all he wanted to know. Every single detail, because I knew he'd ask.
When the story ended, Rhett examined the mark on my hand. "He married you the vampire way. You realize . . . well, I hear it's permanent."
With a stiff nod, I bit back the self-pitying tears that threatened to fall.
"I'm sorry you went through that, Vee, but you're going to have a hard time keeping this quiet. The major papers are speculating on your identity as it is."
My stomach churned. "How did they find out? I thought Vampire records were secret, and it's not like I was in a hurry to update my records."
"Well, they are secret." Rhett wiped his hands off with a wet napkin. "Someone probably tipped them off. You should remember, too, that Lucien is staying in our town. How long do you really think it'll take for someone to put two and two together?"
Drat. I took a sip of my hot chocolate and glared after some passing pedestrians. "You said you had some news too."
"Oh. Right." Rhett sank onto the table, sighing. "Prepare yourself for awkward third-wheeling. Naomi and Nix are absolutely going to get together. They were all over each other at the dance."
"Good for them," I said, my heart not in it. All things romantic, I decided, were banned until further notice.
"It's all right, Vee. We'll still be best friends and"—Rhett's stare flicked behind me and his smile fell—"Incoming."
Glancing over my shoulder, I eyed the pair heading in our direction.
The boy with blonde hair puffed his chest and stood at a towering height. "Tate and Collins getting cozy? I thought my eyes were playing tricks, but it really is you."
I froze at the mention of my former name. Then I brought my cup to my lips for a drink. Ignore him. Easy. I faced Rhett, trusting the conversation to him.
"Jealous, Pat?" Rhett asked with a smug smirk.
"I broke up with you, Collins."
"Really?" I blinked, gesturing to Pat. "You dated him?"
"Yes, and I live to regret it."
"Oh my goodness." I covered my mouth as my stomach dropped in absolute mortification. Had my weird crush ever made him uncomfortable? "I thought you—"
"I do," Rhett blurted before dragging a hand through his hair. "Not that it matters. What do you want, Pat? We're busy."
Oh. Thank the Goddess. He was bisexual, then? Good. I sagged into my chair. While I was relieved to find out he really had liked me, it was somehow more depressing. Would it have been better if he only liked men? Maybe at least then I wouldn't feel as crummy about what might have been.
"What an interesting turn of events," Pat murmured.
My ponytail shifted behind me. I twisted around, setting the cup down, and slapped Pat's bony hand away. Wide eyes stared back, like I'd startled him somehow, but honestly, what did he expect?
"Maybe we should go somewhere else," I said, standing. I wrapped my hand around the mug without looking away from the pair.
Rhett stood, too. "Good idea. Take the cup in and I'll wait for you out here."
And leave him with these two? I wasn't so sure.
"Now, now. Calm down." Pat reached up and tightened the messy bun on top of his head where his hair looked rather thin. "I wanted to drop in and see how you've been doing in the Sages. You've become fast friends with our local pariah."
"I have. And I'm sure we're doing better than you. Last I heard, you barely made it into Hillfort. It's a good thing your mother knows the headmistress. You haven't been kicked out, have you?"
Despite the confidence I had in our friendship, watching Rhett Collins stand up to his old pals surprised me. It brought a little smile to my lips, too. From what I knew of him before, he wanted to fit in. He was on his way to pariah-hood and I only hoped he wouldn't come to regret it.
Pat laughed. "I don't remember you having a spine, Collins. Maybe we should take this into the woods for a friendly duel."
The other boy, who I knew to be Reshad, scratched at a terrible spread of acne on his cheek. He flicked his gaze across the street like he didn't want to be there. "Remember, I wanna get back before the roads get icy."
"Yeah, yeah." Pat shoved his hands in the pockets of his skinny jeans and looked us over. "I'd understand if you were afraid, of course."
"Cut the crap. You're not here for a duel, and you wouldn't last five seconds against Rhett. What do you want?" I asked, the temptation to douse him in the remains of my hot chocolate was rising.
Pat raised his hands. "Whoa. They don't call you the Fiery Skipper for nothing."
I started for the door.
"No, wait. I saw you here with Collins and thought I'd invite you to a party this weekend. An apology."
"Seriously?" I asked over my shoulder. "Pass."
Rhett snickered. "I believe that's your cue to get lost."
"Did Rhett happen to tell you what happened at our graduation party?"
That piqued my interest. I turned from the door, about to speak, when the screech of tires filled the air. A van slammed up on the curb and rocked to a halt right in front of the shop before the side door slid open. A group wearing ski-masks piled out, and they went right for the boys.
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