Read Pretty Little Devils Page 8


  Ellen dragged her fingers through her bangs, clearly embarrassed. “I’ll be right back,” she said, slipping off to the bathroom.

  Sylvia continued. “I’ll just deduct your share of the sitting money until it’s paid for. Now, this is your cell phone number. But please don’t give it out to just anyone.”

  Hazel frowned. “Um, Sylvia, if I have to pay for the phone, shouldn’t I be able to give the number to anyone I—”

  But Sylvia wasn’t listening. “Be sure to keep it on vibrate during school; otherwise it will be confiscated. You can send texts. It has a browser and games.” She handed Hazel the phone back. “Welcome to the twenty-first century, ma petite.”

  “You guys! You guys! Oh my God!” Ellen stage-whispered as she ran back to the table. “Jilly Delgado is having a total freak-out in the bathroom.”

  Sylvia rolled her eyes. “Jilly is such a drama queen. What’s the crisis this time?”

  “She’s having a complete breakdown. Kathy Wilcox and Cara Dugan are trying to get her to pull it together,” Ellen explained. “Something happened to her horse.”

  “Spirit?” Hazel asked with concern. The others gave her a look.

  “I rode him once, when I was a little kid,” Hazel explained. “Jilly has had that horse, like, forever.”

  “Did they say what happened?” Megan asked.

  “No. Jilly was totally hysterical.” Ellen glanced left and right. “She is obsessed with that horse. Like, unhealthily obsessed. Did you know that she’s even got a picture of him in her locker?”

  “Well, that’s kind of freaky,” Sylvia muttered, taking a bite of her salad. “I wonder what could have happened to him.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Hazel decided to go to school early and wander down to the football field.

  Sylvia had told Hazel that perhaps Matty needed a push, and with homecoming just a few weeks away, the time for pushing was now.

  Matty had mentioned that the team had practice before first period. Maybe she’d be able to talk to him—to show him she’d been feeling the exact same way he had for the last few weeks.

  But the field was empty, the freshly mown grass sparkling with dew.

  Hazel waited, but no one showed. A little crestfallen, she went to her locker. She turned a corner—and found Matty in his letter jacket and jeans. He was standing at her locker door, trying to tape a green carnation to the front of it.

  “What’s this?” Hazel asked. “Special delivery?”

  “Uh, hey. Morning,” he said, turning at the sound of her voice. He flashed a quick smile as she glanced at the carnation. “This was supposed to be a surprise.”

  “So surprise me,” Hazel said.

  “We get these on game days,” he explained. “From the cheerleaders. I thought…well, here.” He held it out to her.

  “Thank you.” She took it and gave him a hug, lingering in his arms a second more than usual.

  “I went to the field to see if you were having practice,” she said.

  “You did?” He smiled and shifted his feet nervously. He seemed to be searching for something else to say.

  Hazel turned toward her locker.

  “Wait.” He put his hand on her shoulder and drew her closer.

  Hazel looked up at him and he planted a soft kiss on her lips.

  He pulled back and gave a nervous smile.

  “How about another?” she whispered. He closed his eyes and kissed her again. She felt like she could melt right into him.

  Oh my gosh, Hazel thought happily. I can’t believe this is happening. Right here—with Matty Vardeman!

  “Hazel,” Matty murmured when he pulled away, “I think you’re really awesome.”

  “Thanks.” Hazel blushed.

  “I wanted to know. Would you, uh, go out with me?”

  Hazel wanted to shriek with joy. Instead, she looked at her feet for a moment.

  There were footsteps in the hall. A locker banged open. People were drifting in to start the day.

  Reluctantly she pulled back. “Class,” she said.

  “Is that a yes?”

  Hazel nodded.

  He grinned at her, his eyes crinkling, his quirky-handsome mouth pulled up in that lazy half smile. “Just one more.” He leaned in and kissed her again as the bell rang.

  “I see a lot of tardies in my future,” he complained happily.

  “We can’t have that,” she replied. She wrapped her hand around his, giving it a final squeeze. “You should go.”

  “I know.” He sighed. “I don’t want to.”

  “I know,” she replied, and they both chuckled.

  “Okay. I’m going,” he said.

  He kissed her cheek, then he turned and walked away, looking so good in his jeans and jacket.

  He turned back and grinned at her. “See you later?”

  “Scram!” she joked.

  Then finally he did.

  Hazel drifted through her classes that morning, unable to focus on anything. Every time she closed her eyes, she could feel Matty kissing her.

  She glided along, smiling a secret smile. No one knew what she was thinking about. Who she was thinking about.

  Matty Vardeman. Hazel Vardeman. It was silly to think about. But it definitely sounded nice.

  School was a tangled mess of information, exercises, and quizzes, but all she wanted was to revel in everything that had happened: her induction into the PLDs, Matty. If this was what selling your soul to the Devils got you, she was glad that she’d signed on the dotted line.

  Matty met her at the lunch bell and they kissed some more before strolling across the quad to the cafeteria. The sky was clear; it was the kind of warm, sunny day people paid to live in Southern California for.

  The other four PLDs were already at their table.

  “You all always sit together. Maybe sometime it could be just us?” Matty asked as he and Hazel drew near, hand in hand.

  “That would be nice.”

  She smiled, then wondered if that was some kind of official no-no. No one, not even Sylvia, sat elsewhere at lunch. Maybe it was one of the PLD rules.

  They reached the table. Matty said, “Hello, ladies.”

  “Hi,” Sylvia said sharply, not looking at him. Her gaze was fastened on Ellen. There was tension in her voice. This was not the time for leisurely chat.

  “Um, later,” Hazel said quietly. She squeezed Matty’s hand.

  “Okay.” He paused a moment, then bent down to kiss her.

  Loud smooching sounds came from the jock table. Matty smiled, then strolled over to his friends. Stephan hit him on the shoulder. Josh and Brandon touched fists with him.

  It was official. Matty had made sure everyone knew that he and Hazel were an item. Nothing could bring Hazel down now.

  “Heads up. Someone’s in a mood,” Megan drawled as Hazel took her seat. She gestured with her head at Ellen, who did not look up.

  “Megan,” Sylvia reproved, sitting back in her chair. “I told you, it’s all good.” She smiled directly at Hazel. “How are you?”

  “Great.” She held out her carnation. “Look.”

  “Ah. The cheerleaders give them to the guys. It’s all very symbolic, I’m sure.”

  Hazel put it down on the table. “It is.”

  “Oh, Hazel. That’s so sweet,” Ellen gushed.

  Hazel smiled her thanks.

  “Well, it’s Friday,” Sylvia announced.

  “Game day,” Hazel concurred.

  “And…?” Sylvia turned her head. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and Hazel realized what she was getting at: Sylvia was wearing the trademark PLD purple scrunchie. The four girls wore them every Friday. Another tradition upheld since middle school. They all had them on, even Ellen, although she’d had to hold back her hair with some clips to manage it.

  With a flourish, Sylvia held up a purple scrunchie.

  “Pour toi,” she said to Hazel. Hazel reached for it, and Sylvia playfully pulled it out of her grasp.
“This is your last chance, Haze. The scrunchie damns you for all eternity. So, you in?”

  “Oui,” Hazel said happily. She took the scrunchie and made a ponytail. She turned her head, displaying it. “How’s that?”

  “Perfect,” Sylvia said. “To Hazel!”

  Megan and Carolyn raised their drink cups. Ellen lifted hers as well.

  Then Sylvia glanced down at her water bottle, which was empty. “Ellen? Be a dear and get me another, would you?”

  Ellen’s smile fell. She hesitated. Then she pushed back her chair and left the table.

  “It’s time for another soiree. I want Ellen to ask her dad about having it at their place,” Sylvia said to Hazel. “She’s dragging her feet about it. My patience is wearing thin.”

  “Oh…That’s too bad,” Hazel said, shifting in her chair.

  So Ellen hasn’t asked her dad about a party, Hazel thought. What is Sylvia doing? Punishing her for it?

  Hazel turned to glance at the jock table. Brandon was in the center, clowning around with some of the others. At the sight of him, Hazel got the feeling that this was about more than the party.

  “Let’s talk about happier things.” Sylvia cocked her head and scrutinized Hazel. “You and Mattise? Holding hands? A carnation. And a kiss? Public affection? Is that the way to go?”

  Hazel’s lips parted. She thought for a moment. Sylvia kissed Josh in front of everyone. What was wrong with her and Matty—

  “I think it’s a good move,” Carolyn declared. “He’s hot, and he’s on the team.”

  “But is there anybody you’d rather have?” Sylvia asked Hazel. “Because once you start kissing in public, you’re stuck. Although I guess the proper term is committed.”

  “I like him,” Hazel murmured. “A lot.”

  “It would be hard to do better,” Carolyn said. “And everyone else has hooked up for the year.”

  “Until the inevitable breakups,” Sylvia added. “But he is one of the best.”

  “If you’re into that sort of thing,” Carolyn put in.

  “Then it works,” Sylvia decreed. On either side of her, Carolyn and Megan nodded. “However, Brandon does not work. Not for our Ellen.” She scowled at Ellen’s empty chair. “The sooner she gets that, the better.”

  Hazel frowned. Again, there was something strange about Sylvia’s tone. It was as though she were trying to teach Ellen a lesson.

  But if Ellen decided to date Brandon, was it really any of Sylvia’s business?

  The lunch bell rang and Hazel went to bus her tray. She caught sight of Lakshmi and the others standing in a clump beneath the diversity mural, scanning the crowd.

  They’re looking for me, Hazel realized. But Sylvia had been very clear: she couldn’t be friends with Lakshmi anymore.

  That was a sacrifice Hazel was more than willing to make.

  She took a breath and avoided Lakshmi by using the side door. The PLDs followed her toward the quad.

  In chem lab Hazel was donning her goggles when her cell phone vibrated. She fiddled with the end of her carnation while she checked the message.

  It was from Sylvia.

  PLDSLY2PURPLEHAZE: Plan change. C me L8r

  “Okay, everyone.” Ms. Carpentier clapped. “Let’s begin today’s experiment.”

  Hazel couldn’t respond now.

  Lakshmi appeared in the doorway. Hazel busied herself putting the phone back so that she couldn’t catch her eye.

  “Where did you get this?” an outraged voice demanded.

  Breona Wu had rushed up to the side of Hazel’s table. She grabbed Hazel’s carnation so tightly that the stem broke.

  “Hey!” Hazel cried. “That’s mine!”

  As she reached for it, Breona raised it over her head. Her eyes were slits, her lips pulled back so her teeth were showing. “These flowers are for the team! What did you do? Steal it?”

  “Excuse me?” Hazel asked.

  “Breona? Hazel?” Ms. Carpentier called from the front of the room. “Is there a problem?”

  Breona shook the flower toward the teacher. “She stole this!”

  Ms. Carpentier raised her brows. “Hazel, is that Breona’s?”

  “No,” Hazel said. “It was a present from—”

  “Matty Vardeman gave it to her,” Lakshmi said loudly, half rising from her stool. “I saw them. At her locker.”

  Hazel and Breona both turned to stare at Lakshmi in surprise.

  Hazel thought she and Matty were alone in the hall. Had Lakshmi been watching? God. What was that about?

  “You—you are so lying, Lakshmi!” Breona screeched. Her face drained of color.

  “No, I saw it,” Lakshmi insisted. “He gave it to her.” She turned to Ms. Carpentier. “It’s Hazel’s.”

  “But…” Breona’s face crumpled. She covered her mouth with her hands and ran into the hall. The entire class watched her go.

  There was silence. Then Brian Palmeri, the slacker in the back of the room, piped up. “Dude, what’s her deal?”

  “She’s on drugs,” Hazel shot back, furious and embarrassed. Her statement was greeted with hoots and laughter from the rest of the class.

  “Hazel! Would you care to visit Mr. Clancy?” Ms. Carpentier snapped.

  “No. Sorry,” Hazel apologized, carefully scooping up the carnation. Petals dropped from the ruined flower.

  “All right. Then let’s get back to work.”

  Carpentier got them started on a mixing exercise—adding copper sulfate and sulfur to water. Then she left the room, no doubt to deal with Breona’s diva moment. As soon as she was gone, the class got rowdy.

  Lakshmi leaned over her lab table. “By the way, Haze, that’s so cool about you and Matty. Way to go!”

  “Thanks,” Hazel said. She tried to focus on her experiment, adjusting her heavy goggles as she held a test tube of blue liquid over a Bunsen burner. But she couldn’t help wondering—how did Lakshmi know about her and Matty in the hallway?

  Lakshmi leaned closer. Behind her own goggles, she was blinking excitedly. “I was trying to find you at lunch. Did you hear about Jilly Delgado’s horse?”

  “Yeah,” Hazel said coolly. “Something happened to him.”

  “Something happened, all right. He was killed! Some psycho murdered him and cut him into little chunks!”

  Hazel turned from her experiment. “What?”

  “Someone hacked him up,” Lakshmi repeated eagerly. “They found one of his eyes ten feet away from his body. His tail was missing.”

  Hazel shook her head. “Oh my God. How awful!”

  “There’s going to be a police investigation,” Lakshmi added. “They need to find the perpetrator right away. They’re clearly crazy—and you never know what someone like that will do next.”

  Hazel understood. She watched CSI too.

  Footfalls sounded in the hall. Various conversations died away as Ms. Carpentier returned—without Breona.

  “Uh, Hazel?” Lakshmi whispered. “We’re all getting together tonight to watch a movie. I thought, if you’re not busy…”

  “Sorry.” Hazel turned away. “I have plans.”

  Lakshmi sighed. “Yeah. I figured you would.”

  Hazel’s last period was a study hall that met in the media center. She set her heavy backpack on the table before her and opened it.

  She wanted to study, but her mind was whirling. So much was happening. And it was all so confusing.

  Breona’s meltdown, Jilly’s horse, her first football game as a PLD…and as Matty’s girlfriend. Sylvia, Ellen, Brandon. What did it all mean?

  She shook her head. Now was not the time to figure it out.

  Focus, she coached herself.

  She cracked open her econ book. Supply, demand…she could do this.

  After a few minutes, she felt someone standing just behind her. She turned her head to find Matty, smiling down at her and waiting to be noticed. She gave him a little grin and raised her brows.

  “Hey,” he said softly.
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  “Hey. I didn’t know you had study hall,” she replied.

  “Actually, I’m in Photo II,” he said. “I came in to do some research.” He held up a magazine titled Digital Photographer that had a bunch of cameras on the cover.

  “You’re into photography?” she asked.

  “Yeah.” He glanced left and right, scanning for the study hall monitor, Ms. Engstrom. The coast was clear. He pulled out a chair and sat down.

  “I was selling some of my work to the local paper back in Virginia. Country scenes. I caught a car accident, too.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah. I was the first one on the scene of the accident. It was a total scoop. Extremely gross.” He paused. “It was a fatality. They used it. They had to digitize out some of the details, but the editor said I had a good eye for composition.” He ducked his head and grinned. “Or rather, decomposition.”

  “Ew.” She grimaced.

  “They paid me a hundred and fifty dollars for it, too.” He played with the dog-eared corner of the magazine. “I tried to convince them I could e-mail things from here. They said thanks but no thanks.”

  “Too bad,” she said empathetically.

  He shrugged. “Hey, it’s no big. There’s…other stuff to keep me busy.”

  He means me, she thought, pleased.

  “I see you got your new cell,” he said, pointing to the phone sitting in her backpack. “Can I have the number?”

  Sylvia’s caution sounded in her ears. Don’t give the number to just anyone….

  Was Matty “anyone”? Would Sylvia be angry if Hazel gave him the number?

  Hazel set her jaw. Whatever, she thought. Sylvia may nose around in everybody’s business, but she’s not going to control me.

  “Sure.” She wrote the number down for Matty on a scrap of notebook paper.

  “Thanks,” he said, slipping it into his pocket.

  He glanced down at her textbook. “Economics? I took that. If you get stuck, I got an A.”

  Good grades, too. She sighed. Could he be any more perfect?

  “Good to know,” she said. “Thanks.”