Читать книгу Grey - Christi Whitney J. - Страница 11

‘Mr Grey, please remove your hood.’

I glanced up from my math problems. ‘Sir?’

Mr Weir stood over me, obviously irritated. ‘Your hood, Mr Grey,’ he said, pointing to a laminated list of rules on the wall. ‘No hats or coverings in the classroom.’

I looked around self-consciously. Everyone was in a typical Monday morning stupor, working drearily at their desks. Only Avery stole a glance at me over the edge of his textbook. I sighed and reached up, pushing back my jacket hood. Avery made a weird choking sound.

Alex Graham turned around in his seat directly in front of me. He looked me over in his typical ‘everyone on the planet is beneath me’ way and sneered through his nasty mountain-man beard. ‘Nice.’

My chest grew warm underneath my jacket at his insult. I didn’t need any more negative attention from Alex. He singled me out for ridicule enough on a daily basis as it was. I hunched in my seat and narrowed my eyes back at him, feeling the heat churning into irritated anger. I clenched my teeth, determined to keep my stupid, newfound emotions under control. No freak outs, Sebastian.

Mr Weir cleared his throat disparagingly, and continued moving down the row, checking students’ work. Alex snickered and turned back to his graffiti effort on the desk with his pen. As soon as the coast was clear, Avery leaned across the aisle and poked me with his pencil. He aimed his eraser at my hair, silently indicating the obvious question.

‘Just trying something new,’ I whispered.

No one needed to know that I’d tried to dye my hair back to its original shade all weekend, but with no success. I’d rinse out the solution, only to find the same slate gray color mocking me in the mirror. I didn’t know what Hugo and the guys had used on me or how long it would last. But for now, it appeared my new hair was permanent.

In the parking lot after school, we made our plans for the evening. Or rather, everyone else made the plans while I stood in the back of the group, adjusting the hood of my jacket and tugging it as low as possible. I’d been slammed with comments about my hair all day. Katie had given me several disapproving looks, and Emma had even threatened to stop by later and ‘repair the damage’.

‘Hey, I saw Erica on my way out,’ Mitchell said as he leaned against his car. ‘She said Ms Lucian’s going to post the cast list for A Midsummer Night’s Dream at six tonight.’

‘Finally,’ said Katie. ‘I’ve been freaking out all weekend.’

‘I’m sure you’ll get a part,’ said Emma, from under Brandon’s arm. He had her pinned against his car door and was proceeding to suck on her ear. ‘I can’t wait to see who got cast.’

‘Okay,’ said Mitchell, ignoring them. ‘I vote we meet here, check out the list, and then head to Josephine’s party at the Fairgrounds. Is that cool with everybody?’

Josephine’s party.

I’d forgotten all about it.

‘Works for me.’ Katie retrieved her keys from her purse. ‘Somebody text me as soon as you see the cast and let me know. I made the mistake of volunteering to help with the party, and now Josie’s made me her slave for the next few hours.’

Avery winked. ‘Remember, you promised you’d get Josephine to introduce me to some of those hot Circe performers.’

Katie wrinkled her nose. ‘Don’t get your hopes up.’

She got in her car and drove off. The rest of our group exchanged goodbyes and quickly dispersed. Avery pointed at me over the hood of his Jeep.

‘You’re still coming, right?’ he asked, opening the door.

I hesitated. I wasn’t the party type, but I’d told Josephine I’d be there. And I couldn’t pass up the chance to prove that I wasn’t a complete bumbling freak. The gray hair wouldn’t earn me any points, but at least maybe I could talk to her this time and not come off as a total idiot. ‘Yeah, I’m coming.’

I pulled out of the parking lot right behind Avery, and I was halfway home before an unsettling thought struck me. I didn’t have a birthday present for Josephine.

‘I can’t show up without something,’ I groaned aloud.

My rumbling van seemed to agree, so I turned around and headed back into town. Sixes was filled with dozens of shops, and I decided to try my luck in the historic district. Maybe I could find something unique there. Josephine just didn’t seem like the card and candy type. I chose a promising street and eased the van into a parking slot near a line of antique stores.

The first shop was called Antiquities and Such. I opened the bright pink door and ventured inside. Strands of Christmas lights framed the shelves and piano music drifted from a pair of frayed speakers. The smell of old things tickled my nose. An elderly lady looked up from her magazine and smiled somewhat warily at me.

‘Can I help you, young man?’

I smiled back. ‘I’m just looking, thank you.’

She nodded and returned to her magazine, and I ducked into the first aisle. Row after row of delicate collectibles taunted me. The sight was discouraging. What would Josephine like? I’d barely talked to her; if one could count a few awkward sentences as actual conversation. I should have asked Katie’s advice, but it was too late now.

I checked my phone. It was already 5:30 p.m.. I was running out of time, and I wasn’t going to find anything here. I spun around, fumbling for my keys, and dropped my phone in the process. It clanked against the glass shelving. As I knelt to pick it up, I noticed the bottom shelf was empty, save for one object: a porcelain figure.

She was dressed in a patterned skirt and peasant top, painted bright orange and yellow. The artist had captured her in the middle of a dance, with her arms extended, her back arched, and her hair billowing. Lifelike green eyes stared back at me, holding my gaze so intently that I could have sworn she was real. I leaned in closer; captivated.

A Gypsy figurine that resembled Josephine Romany. Romany. I could almost hear the wheels clicking together in my head. Could it be that the traveling circus was made up of Gypsies, too? Is that why Hugo had abruptly cut me off when I mentioned their arrival? Was there still more my brother wasn’t telling me?

‘Young man, can I get that for you?’

I toppled backwards off my heels, narrowly missing the breakables on the shelf behind me. I blinked up at the wrinkled face. ‘It’s her,’ I murmured.

The woman looked at me as if I’d escaped from a mental institution. ‘Well, I’m glad you like it. I’ll package it up for you.’

She took the figurine and hobbled to the counter. She rolled the porcelain girl in crinkled paper and bundled it into a bag.

‘That will be fifteen dollars.’

I scrounged up enough bills to pay for the gift. Back inside my van, I placed the bag on the passenger seat and stared at it, feeling a little hazy. Was I cursed with seeing Josephine in every dancing image for the rest of my life? I forced my gaze away from the gift and glanced in the rearview mirror instead.

I shoved back my hood and raked my fingers through my hair as if I could somehow brush out the pewter sheen. But nothing changed. I had to hand it to the guys. They were taking this initiation pretty seriously. I gave my head a fierce shake, yanked on my hood, and drove back to Sixes High School.

I’d given little thought to the cast list until I arrived. I just wanted to look at the sheet, congratulate those who had gotten roles, and commence with the most difficult part of my day: Josephine’s party.

‘Okay, Sebastian,’ I said, ‘let’s get this over with.’

A crowd had gathered to see the audition results, and I eased closer to the posted sheet, trying not to draw attention. The first thing I noticed was all the leads. Josephine was Titania, Queen of the Fairies. She would be perfect. Brandon had snagged Lysander, and Emma was Hermia. I doubted their love scenes would take much effort. Avery won the part of Oberon, and I was proud that Katie had been assigned the role of Hippolyta. Of course, I would have to give her some good ribbing over that name.

And then I saw the unexpected: my own name. I looked away and back. Sure enough, there it was, right next to the character of Nick Bottom, the weaver. I cringed, knowing exactly what was in store for me.

As if on cue, Mitchell’s mischievous face came into view. ‘Hey Sebastian, isn’t Nick Bottom the guy who gets turned into an ass?’

Avery shoved Mitchell while the rest of the group laughed.

The ass. I sighed deeply. Perfect.