"Did he have a fever?" Rose asked.
I said yes. How did she know?
"How high was his temperature?"
"I don't know," I replied. "He left before I could take it. But I felt his forehead, and it felt like he was on fire. Why?"
"No reason," she said. "I just heard there's a really nasty strain of flu going around. He'll be fine, just give him a few days."
"A few days?" I scoffed. "He looked perfectly healthy when I saw him today."
"Daisy, I'm sure there's an explanation. Just be patient," Rose said.
My sister said it with such authority that I persuaded myself she was right. I managed a smile.
"Okay, who wants popcorn?" I asked. "Maybe I'll add M&Ms."
We spent the evening hanging out in the family room. Ryan didn't call, and I didn't call him.
When the phone finally rang, I looked anxiously at the number on the caller ID. Samantha. I knew from past experience that if I didn't answer, she'd just keep calling or maybe even come over.
I picked up the phone. "What's up, Samantha?"
"I looked for you in the afternoon but couldn't find you anywhere," she said. "You aren't mad at me, are you?"
"I'm not mad." I wasn't, not at Samantha anyway. And there were a thousand good reasons that Ryan could have been with that girl. I just couldn't think of any right now. And a couple of not-so-good ones, my traitorous brain added.
"Hey, did you hear?" she asked.
"Hear what?"
"Another one of Duke's predictions came true. He predicted that Pamela Ellington would be valedictorian, and guess what they announced at the student council meeting today?"
" That Pam Ellington is class valedictorian? I could have told you that."
"And he predicted that Candy and Damon would break up."
"Another easy one to guess," I said.
"Daisy, I thought you of all people would believe in Duke."
"I believe that the psychic phenomenon exists. I'm reserving judgment about his abilities."
Samantha changed the subject, evidently tired of arguing with me about Duke. "So we're on for hanging prom posters tomorrow afternoon?"
After agreeing, I hung up the phone and turned to Poppy.
"What are you doing after school tomorrow?" I asked.
"Forget it," she said. "I already have plans. Besides, I had to do all the work last year. This year, I'm a senior and you get to wait on me."
It was school tradition that the juniors planned the prom and provided all the labor. The seniors just showed up and looked glamorous, at least according to Poppy.
"Who is in charge of the after party?" she asked.
"What after party?"
" The one the juniors had better be planning unless they want to die a slow, agonizing death."
Alrighty then. Looked like, on top of everything else, we had a party to plan.
Chapter Six
The next day after school, the prom committee followed Samantha to the art room, where the posters were stored. We gathered up the posters and supplies while Sam barked orders.
"We should split up into groups of two," Samantha said.
Penny stepped forward with an eager smile, but Samantha continued like she hadn't even seen her. "Daisy, you're with me. Penny, you're with Rachel." Sam divided up the rest of the girls and ended with a final order. "I want to see posters everywhere you look. We still have a load of prom tickets to sell, and I've heard that some people don't even have dates yet."
I was going to kill her if she looked my way, but fortunately for her safety, she didn't. "Let's go, people!"
As we walked down the hall, we were stopped every few feet by someone who wanted to talk to Samantha.
First, Mrs. Pappas, the yearbook committee adviser, rushed after us. "Samantha, do you have a minute to look at the layout?" she asked.
"I'll come by tomorrow, I promise," Samantha assured her.
Finally, after being stopped by the prom committee adviser, the debate team adviser, and Principal Amador, who just wanted to say hi, we started hanging posters.
"When do you sleep?" I said.
"What do you mean?" Samantha replied. She stuck a poster on the wall and stepped back to take a look.
"You're involved in everything," I said. "When do you have time to just hang out at home?"
Her face fell, and I realized I'd put my foot in my mouth again. Samantha's parents were never home. She was alone in that big house most of the time.
"Sam, I didn't mean..."
She gave me a strained smile. "I like to keep busy," she said. "Don't you? Isn't that why you joined prom committee?"
"I guess," I said. "Poppy said something last night about planning an after party for the seniors. I guess it's the juniors' job?"
Samantha nodded. "One more thing to do." She sighed as she looked thoughtfully at the poster on the wall in front of us. "You know, Daisy," she said, "You're right. I do have a lot on my plate right now. Do you want to take charge of planning the after-prom party?"
"I've never done anything like that before," I told her, "and Poppy will kill me if it's not perfect. It's her senior prom. Last chance to make memories and all that."
"You'll do a great job," she said. "And I'll help you. I'll get the whole committee to help."
I thought about it for a minute. I needed a project to take my mind off Ryan anyway. "Okay, I'll do it."
Samantha and I ended up by the boys' locker rooms. "We should put a bunch here," she said. "Some boys need a little prompting." She glanced at me, a question in her gaze.
"Ryan hasn't asked me yet. I don't know what's up with him. Do you?"
"No," Samantha said, but she wouldn't look at me when she said it. She knew something, I was sure of it. Her boyfriend Sean was Ryan's best friend.
"He's been acting weird lately," I said, watching her closely. Then, after looking around to make sure Penny wasn't lurking behind some corner, I admitted: "Sam, I saw him with another girl."
Her eyes widened. "What do you mean? Who was it?"
"I don't know her," I said, "But I saw her at Slim's the other night. Long dark hair, lips like Angelina Jolie, and these weird yellowish eyes."
"That sounds like Elise Wilder," Sam said. "Total femme fatale."
"You know her?" I asked incredulously.
"I met her back when I went up to the Wilder mansion to book it for prom."
"Elise Wilder," I said. "Why haven't I ever met her before now? I know everybody in Nightshade." I've lived here my whole life and I'd never heard anyone mention her name.
"She's been going to finishing school in Europe," Samantha said.
"What brings her to Nightshade?" I asked.
"She's kind of wild," Samantha said. "Her grandmother, Mrs. Wilder, has sent her to about a dozen schools, and she's managed to get kicked out of every one. She'll be finishing her senior year at Nightshade High."
Great. Just great.
The very next day, I came face-to-face with my rival.
Samantha and I were manning the cupcake decorating station to raise money for the prom and the after party. I had baked and frosted the cupcakes, and everyone could decorate their own. Sam and I set up a table during lunch on Friday afternoon and waited for hungry students to dig in.
"So have you given any thought to the after party?" Sam asked.
I nodded enthusiastically. I had done some serious brainstorming the night before. "I was thinking of something like a Dark Carnival theme." It was amazing the things one could come up with when sitting at home, dateless.
"Dark Carnival?"
"You know, moody lighting, kind of creepy."
"Will there be clowns? Because I've always thought clowns were totally creepy."
"We could have different booths," I suggested. "With carnival games and stuff."
"We can get Duke to read fortunes," she said. "If he's not too busy." She sent me a sly glance.
"Cut it out, Sam," I said. "I'm not going to th
e prom with Duke."
"So where are we going to have this soiree?" Samantha asked.
"Somewhere outside," I said. "I was thinking your yard might be a good spot. You guys have, like, two acres or something, right?"
Samantha bristled. "No way," she said sharply. "Not my yard."
I was surprised she was down on the idea. After all, the Devereaux house was no stranger to parties. But I knew Sam had been having some family problems recently, so I didn't push the issue.
"What about the park?" Samantha suggested. "There's plenty of room there."
"Maybe," I said, "but wouldn't we have to get, like, permits and stuff?"
"Probably," said Samantha. "But how hard can that be? Your boyfriend's dad is chief of police."
My heart sunk when she mentioned Ryan. Wasn't this prom-planning stuff supposed to keep my mind off him? I reached for an M&M and popped it into my mouth.
"And I thought I had strong cravings," someone observed. I looked up and saw Elise Wilder.
Her dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail, revealing a triangular face and drawing attention to her thickly arched brows and strange eyes. She looked sleek and dangerous, like a hungry cat looking at a mouse. She wore an expensive pair of trendy jeans so hard to get that a certain cheerleader I knew would give her left pom-pom to own a pair.
I cleared my throat, realizing I was staring. I was surprised to see her. Two new students enrolling at Nightshade High in one week must be some kind of record. When Duke Sherrad arrived, his picture was on the front page of the school newspaper. Of course, that could be because the student editor, Tim Sullivan, had a well-known fondness for dark-haired hotties. Didn't we all?
"Hi, Elise," Samantha said sweetly. "Have you met Daisy?"
She narrowed her eyes and shook her head.
"You're Ryan's friend, right?" I said it with a confidence I didn't feel. I wondered if "friend" was the right word if her cravings included something along the lines of a tall dark guy with green eyes.
"Friend? Yes, I guess you could call me a friend."
"I'm Daisy Giordano, his..." I wasn't sure what I was, not anymore. Not with this absolutely stunning girl standing in front of me.
Elise's eyes focused on the silver acorn ring I was wearing. Grandma Giordano had given it to me.
"Nice ring," she said. She stepped away from me. "You're selling prom tickets here, right?" she asked Samantha.
"Yes," Sam said cheerfully.
Elise nonchalantly whipped a $100 bill out of her wallet and handed it to Sam. "I'll take two."
I couldn't believe she already had a prom date. I wondered who it could be.
"Bye, Elise! Thanks a lot," said Samantha as Elise left the table.
"You're pretty friendly with her," I observed.
A guilty look crossed Sam's face. "I'm trying to convince her to join the cheerleading squad, but she's not interested."
I felt a stab of jealousy. "I didn't realize she had started school here yet," I said glumly.
"Just this morning," Sam said. "She had a town car drop her off. Pretty classy, right?"
I shrugged. Classy isn't the word that came to mind when I thought of Elise Wilder.
As if on cue, Poppy approached our table. "Did you see her? The new girl?"
"That's her," I said. "The one we saw Ryan with in front of Slim's."
"I thought so," she replied. "She's gorgeous."
Like I needed to hear that. Leave it to Poppy. She realized what she'd said and added, "Not as pretty as you, of course."
I gave her a little punch on the arm. "Thanks."
"Hey, I need to ask you a favor."
"Shoot."
"Can you call Cassandra or Chelsea and get ahold of a San Carlos yearbook? Last year preferably." Cassandra and Chelsea were twins who went to San Carlos High. We'd met them a few months ago during a case.
"I'll call them tonight," I promised. "But what do you want a San Carlos yearbook for?"
"Gage went there," she said shyly. "And I want to see what he looked like ... before."
"Oh." Why was Poppy torturing herself? On the other hand, what would it be like to have only a shadowy idea of what your crush looked like?
After kids finished their lunches, they bought and decorated cupcakes. The bake sale was a hit, but I was still worrying about who Elise's prom date could be. My worries were eased when Ryan approached the table, smiling widely.
"What are you up to tonight?" he asked me as he handed me cash for a cupcake.
I shrugged, not wanting to seem too eager. "I don't have any plans yet," I said.
"Why don't I come by your house after baseball practice?" he asked. "It's been a while since we've spent any real time together."
My heart fluttered when I thought of spending time alone with Ryan. "Sounds good. I'll stop by Slim's and get us a couple of sandwiches for dinner."
Before leaving, he leaned in for a kiss.
"Sweet," Samantha said when he was gone. "But he still hasn't purchased any prom tickets."
Nevertheless, I went through the day smiling.
Chapter Seven
After school, I ran to Slim's for a couple of deli sandwiches and an order of fries.
As Poppy requested, I made the call to Chelsea, who said she'd drop the yearbook by the house over the weekend.
"I'll just leave it on the porch if you're not there," she said gaily.
"Thanks, Chelsea, I owe you."
"Not half as much as I owe you, but I'm curious—what do you want a San Carlos yearbook for?" she said.
I explained about Gage and Poppy. I knew Chelsea would understand.
"I remember Gage Atwood," she said. "It was awful what happened to him."
"What did happen to him?"
"Car accident, two weeks before his senior prom," she said. "He was alone in the car. Hit a tree."
"That's awful," I said. "Tell me about it."
After I hung up with Chelsea, I started on my homework to kill some time.
But by seven thirty, there was still no sign of Ryan. Baseball was long over. I confirmed it by peeking out the window. Yes, there was Sean's car. He was home, but where was Ryan?
I'd been stood up. There'd better be blood involved. It wasn't like Ryan not to call if he'd gotten tied up.
I decided to be rational and call his cell. Maybe there had been an emergency, or maybe he'd been hurt or something. No answer. I slammed my phone closed and then bolted out the front door, resisting the impulse to slam it, too.
Sam and Sean were hanging on his front porch. I decided to go over and fish for possible information about Ryan's whereabouts.
"Hey," Samantha said. "Ryan leave already?"
"He never showed," I admitted.
She glanced over at Sean. "You know anything about that?" He wouldn't meet her eyes. "He was still at practice when I left."
There goes the possible dazed-and-bleeding theory.
"You can't let him take you for granted like that. You had plans and he just stood you up." She put her hand on her hip and glared at Sean like he had stood her up.
I nodded. "Maybe there's a reasonable explanation?" I said weakly. It was hard to argue with Samantha, especially when, in theory, I agreed with her. Her eyes narrowed. "Don't make excuses for him," she said.
I was tired of thinking about it. I headed to bed, telling myself that things would be better in the morning.
They weren't. Poppy knocked on my bedroom door at the crack of dawn. "Daisy, wake up," she hissed.
I leaned over and blearily checked the time. "Poppy, it's not even five yet. Go back to bed." I rolled over and pulled the covers over my head.
The next thing I knew, Poppy was bouncing up and down on my bed. "Get. Up."
I sat up and threw a pillow at her, which she ducked with the expertise that comes with years of practice. Then I tried to go back to sleep.
"Rose didn't come home last night," Poppy said.
"What do you mean, Rose didn't come hom
e last night?" I repeated, still groggy.
Poppy looked terrible, like she had been up all night. "Daisy, wake up!" she insisted. "I need you coherent."
"Has she done it before?" I asked.
"Well, duh," Poppy said, looking at me like I was stupid. "But she's never stayed out all night before."
I wasn't stupid, just not in the loop. This was just another thing my sisters had kept from me. Poppy and Rose had always been close. For the longest time, I had been an outsider in my own family, the only one without any powers. A norm, like my father.
I still didn't understand what Poppy was so worked up about. "Rose is in college," I said. "What's the big deal?"
"The big deal is tonight is a full moon," Poppy said urgently.
I was wide awake as soon as the realization set in. "Have you tried her cell?"
"About a dozen times," Poppy snapped. "And I called Nicholas, too. They're not answering."
"Did she mention where they were going last night?"
"No, but I know she was heading out to meet him."
"What was Rose doing with Nicholas on the night of a full moon?"
"Shh, keep your voice down," Poppy cautioned me. "You'll wake Mom."
"What are we going to do?" I said.
"We're going to go look for them," she replied. "You get dressed. I'll get the car keys."
"And leave a note for Mom," I told her. "Tell her we're going to Slim's. The least you can do is buy me a cup of coffee."
And maybe I could get a hint or two from my favorite cryptic jukebox.
After I became halfway coherent (or as coherent as I got at five in the morning), we got in the car.
"Where should we look first?" Poppy asked as she backed out of the driveway.
"After we stop for coffee, we'll check Mort's. It's the most logical place to start."
Poppy pulled the car into a parking space right in front of Slim's. The sign was still broken and hanging slightly askew.
"I'll wait in the car," Poppy said.
"Fine, do you want anything?"
"Extra-large Coke, please, lots of ice."
And she thought I was addicted to caffeine?
It was early, but there were already a couple of coffee drinkers at the counter.
Flo was on duty. She looked slightly hungover, but then again, it could just have been Flo being Flo. Today her shirt read, SCROTUM IS JUST A WORD.