And They Were Roommates(78)

Jasper interrupts us with an awkward wave. That’s when I notice London and another girl from the sister academy standing beside Delilah. His eyes are only on the girls. “Apologies for the interruption, ladies, but may we ask for one last favor?”

Delilah scowls, shooting me a firm look that’s giving we’ll continue this conversation when we’re alone. “The fuck is this guy?”

He extends a hand for a shake before I can answer. “Jasper Grimes, miss.”

She glances at me. Jasper. Me again. “Is this—?”

“Principal Grimes’s nephew,” I cut in. “You must’ve heard of him.”

Delilah makes a face like she tastes Clorox. Even if I never told her more than Jasper’s first name back at camp, with him standing beside me now, there’s no way she isn’t putting two and two together that the principal’s nephew has been the culprit all along.

“Where are the rest of the top five?” Jasper asks. “Sophia? Mary?”

London, the antithesis of Delilah tonight in her hot-pink minidress, frowns at the question. “They’re too scared to help us anymore.”

Silence falls among the circle.

I turn to Delilah. “You’re okay with helping us again?”

Delilah clicks her tongue. “I finish what I start. And Valentine’s rules are pissing me off.”

So, Jasper stands before us all and addresses everyone but me. My guilt distracts me from paying attention. Knowing Jasper, he’d treat me like Foot Cody if he hated me. He would have no problem with looking directly at me, insulting me with the most pretentious vocabulary, and smiling in a way that doesn’t reach his eyes. What else would cause this?

My chest aches as I consider the only other possibility. Can he not bear to look at me because it hurts too much?

I know he likes me. He told me. But this much?

“The mixer is three hours,” Jasper is in the middle of explaining once I lock back in. “A hundred letters need to be delivered—preferably in the first two hours. Blaze will pass them out since he’s the quickest and smallest.” His face hardens. “Remember, not a single instructor can spot these letters. They’re the most intelligent educators in the nation. They’ll surely connect them to Delilah’s bag of letters if so.”

“Blaze will need to deliver fifty per hour, then,” Robby says. “Nearly one per minute.”

“Can’t Blaze sit his ass down somewhere and have people come up?” Xavier asks.

“That could pool a crowd, Xav,” Robby says.

“How is that better than Blaze running around like a headless chicken? If an instructor spots one letter, we’re done.”

“I’ve prepared for that,” Jasper says, rummaging through his bag more. He pulls out a white sheet and tosses it over Blaze’s head. From a hole ripped on the side, Blaze’s hand juts out and waves. Two more frayed holes barely reveal his eyes.

Everyone stares at Blaze the Ghost.

Next, Jasper pulls out a pumpkin trick-or-treat bucket and slides the handle up Blaze’s arm. “We have twenty minutes until this mixer starts. We’re going to spend that time rolling the letters into candy foil I found in my aunt’s kitchen and writing every recipient’s name on them. Then we’ll put them in this bucket.”

“You do know that we can see this ghost, right?” Xavier asks.

“That’s fine. Because Delilah, our lovely student council member, asked Blaze to pass out candy around the ballroom.”

“I did?” Delilah asks.

Jasper winks. “That’s the story you tell.”

“If any faculty walk up and ask for candy?” Robby asks unsurely.

Jasper yanks peppermints out of his pocket and tosses them at Blaze’s sheeted head. Blaze grunts. “He has spares.”

“And I always come prepared to cause a distraction,” Delilah says, patting the chain of a handbag slung over her shoulder. What she means by that is an enigma—possibly those sparklers she accidentally set oak trees on fire with at summer camp, or even homemade poison.

“Ladies,” Jasper says, turning to the three, “you’re the only ones who can match sister academy student names to faces. Direct Blaze in the right ways, please?”

“Simple enough,” London says. The other two nod.

“Anything to make everyone trust us again,” Xavier says. “I don’t want STRIP to die. Or to get kicked out either, but, you know.”

The words resonate deep within me, reminding me just how much this is all my fault. The knocked-over gate; the ripped bag. Maybe I have to leave Valentine, but if everyone else suffers the same fate, I’d never forgive myself. And they’d never forgive me.

Lately, I’m losing so much. I can’t lose them too.

Tonight, I’ll fix this once and for all.

“We’ll fight until the end,” Jasper says to everyone except me. “Ready?”





Chapter 41

DADDY-LONG-LEGS




THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 14

The ballroom is full of spiders.

Plastic spider rings are piled on every cocktail table, surrounding taper candles burning in centerpiece sconces. Tablecloths are patterned with cartoon spiders. Polyester webs are stretched across the ceiling. Even a massive spider sculpture made of plastic cups hangs from the ceiling by two strings like a marionette.