Page 88 of The Pawn

Almost everyone is already here, split into two groups: girls on the left, boys on the right, waiting for the tokens to be taken out and pairings to be made. With the lights dimmed low, three chandeliers lowered through the room, and classical music playing softly through speakers around us, the entire place is decked out for romance. If Holly and I were still on speaking terms I would congratulate her on all her hard work.

I find my eyes drawn to where she stands on the left side of the room, with the other girls, her eyes on a boy standing across the divide: Leo Cooper, rumored to be her new boyfriend. Apparently itispossible to get over someone like Cole Masterson, especially when there's another handsome, rich young boy to replace him with. This one, at least, seems to have better manners.

"Alright." Taking a deep breath, I smile up at Hector and take my hand off his elbow. "I guess it's time for us to part."

"Good luck," he wishes me. "I'll see you later if your date turns out to be less than satisfactory. Although if I get to go out with Victoria or Toni..."

I snort. "Don't worry about me. I can handle myself. Worst comes to worst, I'll go stag tonight. Or be Tricia and Sasha's third wheel, now that they've officially declared themselves coupled up." I don't want to think about who Chrissy will pair up with if she doesn't like her date; I've seen enough of her and Tanner together for one lifetime. "Good luck, Sanchez."

"You too, Cooke."

We part ways, going to our respective sides of the room. My stomach is in knots; I duck away from the other girls, aware of a redhead in the crowd, a hateful smirk twisting up her lips. Already, I find myself eager for the semester to be over, and more than anything, to talk to my mom about whether or not she has space in her new apartment for me. A transfer back to Wayborne High sounds like just the thing the new year has in store for me.

I refuse to let Cole, Blake, Tanner, or their gang of bullies get me to drop out before the semester is over, but they were right: I shouldn't be here. This isn't where I belong—at all.

"Hey!" Sasha calls me over to a corner where she's sitting with Tricia and Chrissy, all of them with little flasks in their hands. "Over here."

I raise my eyebrows as I join them. "Imbibing already? This party has adult chaperones."

"It's just champagne and orange juice," Chrissy says, rolling her eyes at me. "Don't tell me that being a narc rubbed off on you while you were in the Rosalinds."

I bristle at her words, and pointedly say, "I keep people's secrets. Especially when they don't deserve to have mud slung in their faces publicly. Sometimes even when they do."

She blushes and turns away at my words, while the other two girls just look confused—and smitten. It would be adorable if I weren't painfully, bitterly jealous. At least tonight I'll get a date, no matter how terrible. I'm sure the Rosalinds put me with the homeliest guy here—that's fitting revenge from Holly, who won't stoop much lower than that. But at least it'llbea date, no matter what.

The announcement goes out. It's time to match our tokens. Slipping the little decorative envelope from my bag, I pull mine out and stare down at it, heart suddenly in my throat.

I got a glittering, golden snake on a background of black paper.

For the first time in weeks, the old snake bite scar on my hand pulses with just the barest hint of pain. I shudder, stomach in knots, wondering what it means. Then something else slips out of the envelope: a little note.

A snake for a snake.

Everyone around me is rushing forward to find out who their dates are. Even Tricia and Sasha seem excited; they're going to convince their guys to dance with each other and browbeat them if they don't. Chrissy, who's wearing a slinky low-cut dress, practically prowls across the ballroom to the other side.

Pairings are made. Matches occur. I walk through the crowd, shaking my head when boys ask me if I got the fox, or the dog, or the star.

Maybe I got no one.

Until. A figure pushes open the doors, and a murmur runs through the crowd. I know who it is on instinct, but I turn anyway: Cole Masterson, wearing a dashing well-cut fitted suit.

In his palm he holds out a golden snake on black paper. His eyes find me unerringly, and he closes the distance between us in a few short strides.

"I think this should match yours," he says. "Because I can't imagine what other girl at this school would be compared to a snake."

I open my mouth to tell him off, but then Holly's voice rings out on the microphone. "Alright everyone, looks like our pairings have been made!"

I glance over. Her eyes find me briefly, then Cole, and I realize: she did this. She set up the two people who betrayed her the most, because in her mind we must fit each other.

"It's time for the first dance. Remember: you can spend the rest of the ball with anyone you want, but this dance is for your match, whether you call it a date or just making a new friend. So let the music begin!"

Chapter 47

Cole takes my hand. I yank it out of his grip, scowling, heart beating like a big brass band.

"You're not supposed to be here," I point out. "Don't you have a murder to stand trial for or something?"

"No concrete evidence links me to anything," he responds calmly, as if that's a normal thing for a sixteen-year-old boy to say. No doubt he's said it dozens of times recently. "Also, you heard Holly. We're supposed to dance. Unless you're not capable of dancing—I mean, given your upbringing..."

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