"Then I suggest we convince them." Vincent thumbed through a file on the table and located the reports on Jim Grander and Melanie Kelon. "This ought to help you convince them that a gentlemen's club makes good business sense for the neighborhood." He handed the papers to Gerard.
Gerard bobbed his head as he read over the reports. "Yes, sir."
"Fly out to New Mexico yourself and have a chat with Mr. Grander and Ms. Kelon. I'm sure they'll see things our way." One of the best and most lucrative parts of Vincent's job was using people's weaknesses against them.
He turned to Jack, his most trusted associate, who was about his age and had been with him almost since the beginning of his career. "What's the latest on our drug operations in Colorado?"
"We've successfully convinced several counties to allow marijuana farms," Jack said, whose thick brown hair showed patches of gray. "I've secured multiple parcels of land to use for those operations. We also have personnel in place."
"Very good."
"We lost a big meth lab last week, but we've already established some new, smaller ones." Jack's dark brown eyes brimmed with satisfaction.
"Looks like we're right on schedule for the summit meeting with the other divisions." Vincent smiled as he continued. "I'm sure you've heard that upper management is considering combining the southwestern and western divisions and I'm in line to head the merger. Of course, I plan to make the western division a strong competitor for our eastern comrades. The east coast currently out sells and out performs us, but I plan to change that."
"Sir, we do have a problem," Jack said. "In Colorado. Silver City."
Vincent glared at Jack. He didn't like being interrupted especially with news of a problem. Vincent was set to take over the western half of the United States, something he'd been working toward since he started with the organization right out of college. "What kind of problem?"
"There's this . . ." His sentence trailed off.
"What, Jack? There's this, what?" He emphasized the last word.
"Disturbance."
He pursed his lips and then said, "What does that mean?"
Chris, a man in his early thirties with cropped black hair, cut in, "A very recent associate in Silver City has reported a disruption of control over the host."
"Then take care of it." Vincent had no time for this, not with the summit meeting looming. He ran his fingers through his thick hair attempting to settle his bubbling anger. His powers of persuasion were far more successful when he was calm.
Jack leaned forward, making his chair creak. "Apparently, a teenage girl there can interrupt the connection in our newer, and possibly weaker, associates."
"Preposterous." Vincent blew out a breath. Was he working with morons? A teenage girl? Absurd.
"If she has enough Light to sever the connection between our associates and their hosts—"
"Yes, yes, I know. You don't have to explain it to me, Jack." Losing associates, and thus control, in any city reflected poorly on the organization, and on him. Vincent couldn't have that.
"What should we do?" Chris asked.
Vincent closed his eyes for a moment, considering his options. He drew a deep breath and gazed at Priscilla, head of associate training. "Neutralize the girl."
Erin and I sat on a bench by the front entrance of the high school. The rays of the noon sun fell across my face, warming my skin. I inhaled the soft, rich scents of the surrounding evergreen trees and the newly turned soil in the flowerbed. We wanted to take advantage of the warm day by eating lunch outside. Erin handed me a couple of soft tacos. She'd ditched her class to make a Taco Bell run and had brought me my favorite lunch.
"Thanks," I said as I took the tacos. "You're the best."
Erin looked up at the brilliant blue sky. "This weather is giving me some serious spring fever."
"Me too." I sank my teeth into the soft taco but had to grab a napkin to catch the juice dripping down my chin.
"Here comes Nate," Erin said.
I glanced up and watched him approach, my heart skittering. He noticed and flashed his perfect smile.
He came over and sat next to me, where he grabbed a napkin and wiped at my chin. "Missed a spot," he said, his brown eyes sparkling.
Even though I loved his attention, my cheeks burned with embarrassment.
"What's for lunch?" Nate asked.
"Nothing for you," Erin said.
He frowned. "Serious?"
Erin grinned then handed him a couple of burritos and a taco.
"If I weren't dating the most amazing girl in school, I'd think about dating you," he said with a laugh.
"Thanks a lot." Erin threw a napkin at him.
"Where's Charlie?" I asked. "I haven't seen him all day."
"Home sick," Erin said.
"I hope he feels better for prom." I couldn't imagine going to prom without my best friend.
"He will. Or I'll kill him." Erin grinned in a ghoulish kind of way.
We kept talking and making more plans for prom. Suddenly, a shiver sprinted down my back, and my eyes were drawn toward the school parking lot, where I spotted the guy from under the tree. He leaned against a white car, with his longish black hair falling across his forehead, his gaze on me. I averted my eyes, but then snuck another glance at him. He gave me a nod. I choked on a bite of taco, coughing and sputtering.
Erin hit me on the back. "Are you okay?"
I nodded, but the taco was lodged in my throat. I coughed a few more times to clear it and then grabbed a napkin to wipe my watering eyes. When I was finished embarrassing myself, he was gone.
"Crystal?" Concern flickered in Nate's eyes.
"I'm okay." I coughed. So totally embarrassed.
"Did you forget to chew?" Erin asked.
"It's down. I'm fine." I wiped around my mouth, my chin, even my cheeks to erase all traces of taco drool.
"Drink this." Erin handed me a large cup of soda with a straw sticking out of the lid.
"Thanks." I gulped the soda, the carbonation stinging my throat, hoping Nate didn't think I was a total loser completely incapable of eating a meal.
Nate reached over and caressed my back. "Better?'
I nodded.
Nate finished his burrito. "Did you clear your curfew for prom night?"
I shifted my position on the grass. How could I tell him I'd chickened out?
"You have a curfew for prom?" Erin slurped her soda.
"Yeah."
"Why am I not surprised? Your parents are so primitive." She and Nate laughed.
What could I say? She was right. I was the only one I knew who had a curfew. In fact, it seemed like most of the kids I knew didn't have any rules. They could do what they wanted, when they wanted, where they wanted. For as long as I could remember, I'd had rules. It should've bugged me, but it didn't. Maybe it was because I was used to having boundaries. Or, maybe it was because I respected and trusted my parents.
"Crystal?" Erin poked me.
"What?"
"You gotta get your parents to loosen up for prom. We're going to celebrate all night long." Erin grinned and did a little dance with her shoulders and arms.
Nate gave Erin a high five behind my head.
I said nothing.
"Nate and Charlie have big plans. Right, Nate?"
"Gonna be the best night of our lives." Nate looked at me. "Ask your parents."
While we finished our lunch, I couldn't help but think about my reaction to that guy in the parking lot. For some reason he affected me, but I didn't know why. I didn't even know who he was. I'd never seen him before yesterday and I needed to get him out of my head. Nate was my boyfriend—I was only interested in Nate, and we were going to prom in a few nights.
At rehearsal that afternoon, I stood offstage in the relative darkness waiting for my cue. I walked onto the stage and delivered my line. I turned toward the audience. The same mysterious guy sat on the left side of the auditorium in the front row. Suddenly, my feet were glued to the stage.
Without my permission, a fluttering sensation rippled through my insides. Stop looking at him. Now.
A far away voice floated over to me, calling my character's name. I tried to respond but I couldn't tear my gaze from that guy.
A firm grip on my arm jerked me out of my trance. Cole looked at me expectantly. Had he said his line already? What was mine?
I blinked a few times then swallowed hard. Think, Crystal. Think. "I hope you weren't trying . . . to . . . run, I mean, sneak away without . . . me." It was wrong. I tried to cover, but nothing came to me.
Cole shook his head.
"I've slept enough," I said. Wrong line. Again. As if out of my control, my gaze was drawn to the tree guy. I said, "I'm not tired." Wrong. Confused, I tried to resist his pull, but couldn't. There was something about him. Something I couldn't explain. Or understand.
The harder I tried to recall my line, the worse it got. My nerves were on fire. This unknown guy was throwing me off.
Mr. Jordan shouted, "That's enough!" It broke the spell. He jumped up from his regular seat in the audience and marched over to the stage. I clenched my jaw and braced myself for the onslaught, trying to keep my eyes on him and off the boy in the audience.
"What is wrong with you today? You haven't hit one line since we started this scene." A vein in his shiny forehead pulsed.
I didn't know what to say. He was right. I had butchered the scene, but I had no explanation for it—at least not one I could say aloud.
Cole elbowed me and gave me a concerned look.
Using all of my strength to resist looking at the unknown guy, I cleared my throat and said, "I'm sorry."
"Miss Scott, do you think I have nothing better to do than waste my time coming to these rehearsals? I give this theater program everything I have, and all I ask in return is that you give me some sort of acting I can work with. At the very least, saying the right lines at the right time. Is that too much to ask?" He ran his hand over his bald head and looked up at the ceiling. "I should never have cast a new student in the lead. I know better. What was I thinking?" He took a breath then shot me a laser glare. "I've already warned you. Fail again, and you're out. Believe me, I will replace you if I have to." He pointed at me.
"Start scene two again. From the beginning." He turned and stomped back to his seat.
After I dragged myself offstage, I peeked from behind the curtain. The guy was still there. How had he snuck into rehearsal? It didn't matter, because I needed to focus on this scene if I had any hope of keeping my part. Then I needed to figure out why he seemed to be following me. Hopefully, he wasn't some sort of psycho.
Erin sat next to me in the dressing room after rehearsal. "What's going on? Jordan is serious about cutting you. He replaced the lead a week before opening night when I was a freshman and we had to rehearse late every night that week to pull it off."
"I know." I rubbed my forehead. "I'm just off today, I guess."
"Off?" Her eyes widened. "Seems like it's more than that."
Should I admit that some guy had blown my concentration? That a stranger has some weird pull on me? After the way she'd reacted when I told her about Ms. Neal, she'd think I'd totally lost it. Maybe I have. But she was my best friend—she'd even said so—and best friends listened without making rash judgments. At least that's what I told myself before I blurted, "I think that guy—"
"You mean the one from the school paper?" She looked at herself in the mirror and finger combed her hair.
"The one sitting on the left side of the auditorium."
"Yeah, that's him." She adjusted the collar of her yellow shirt.
"He's from the school paper?" Maybe he wasn't a psycho after all, but why did I have such a strong reaction to him?
"That's what Jordan said. He came to do an article." She picked at something between her teeth.
"I've never seen him before." Since I'd only been a student here for a few months, that didn't mean much.
Erin shrugged. "Me neither. Must be new."
"I wonder—"
"I bet Nate will look amazing in a tux." Erin whistled.
A vision of Nate flashed through my mind, and a smile tickled my lips. "Yeah."
"You gotta get rid of your curfew."
I rubbed my fingers together.
"What?"
"I don't know if my parents will go for it. Even if they do, it will only be a couple of hours at the most."
"Seriously? That barely gives us any time at all. You should tell them you're spending the night at my house." She shrugged her right shoulder. "They'll never know."
"Erin—"
"Yeah, it's perfect. Your parents will think we're having a sleepover and we'll be free to party all night." She grinned. "No thanks necessary." She grabbed some perfume from the table and sprayed her neck. She teased her long, dark hair.
After a minute of watching her style her hair, I said, "I can't do that."
"Can't do what?" She applied some hairspray and turned to me.
"Lie to my parents."
"Oh, it's easy. Tell them what they want to hear, and then do what you want." She patted my arm. "What they don't know won't hurt them, right?" She laughed.
"I won't lie to them."
Erin jerked her head around and stared at me with a wide-eyed, you-must-be-kidding look. "Oh, come on, everyone lies to their parents."
"When I was younger, I lied about taking money at a friend's house. The more I lied about it, the worse it got. It chewed me up so much inside, I felt sick. I couldn't take it anymore. After I told the truth, returned the money, and apologized, the feeling went away." I paused. "I decided from then on that lying wasn't for me."
Erin blinked several times. "You're serious."
I nodded.
She wrinkled her forehead. "I thought you wanted to stay out with Nate."
"I do, but not if I have to lie to my parents about it."
"I don't think I've ever met anyone like you. You're so . . . good." Erin said it like I had a terminal disease or something.
"I really want to go to prom. I just need to be back by my curfew. Can't we make that work?" I got up and grabbed my bag.
Erin stood and sighed. "I guess."
We left the dressing room and headed for the parking lot.
The next morning, the first rays of daylight peeked through the blinds in the kitchen. I sat at the breakfast table, shoveling Cocoa Puffs into my mouth because my favorite cereal, Lucky Charms, was basically dust in the bottom of the box. My mom walked in. Perfect time to ask about extending my curfew, but the words wouldn't come out of my mouth.
"Good morning." She opened the refrigerator and pulled out the orange juice. "You're up early."
"I need to run lines with Cole before school." No way did I want to lose my role as the lead. If I had to run lines twenty-four hours a day, I'd do it.
My mom, in her tattered lavender robe and uncombed blonde hair, sat in the chair across the table. "How are rehearsals going?"
"Fine." I shoved another spoonful of cereal into my mouth so I wouldn't have to say anything else. I didn't want her to worry about the possibility of Mr. Jordan cutting me. I worried enough for both of us.
She sipped her orange juice. "I've been meaning to talk to you about prom."
My heart stopped. "Okay."
"I feel unsettled about it."
"Why?" My mom seemed to have a sixth sense about things, like a gift. Usually it was a good thing, but I didn't want her to say anything that might ruin my big night.
"I don't know. Something has been nagging at me." She raked her fingers through her straight hair.
I wanted to go to prom with every molecule of my body, and I really, really didn't want her to tell me not to go. "And?"
"I'm not sure you should go."
Nooooo. She might as well have given me a direct kick to the chest. With hiking boots. Rugged, extra heavy hiking boots. "Not go?"
"I know we've moved around a lot and you haven't had a very normal
high school experience—"
"Mom, I've been dreaming about my senior prom forever. It's my chance to be a regular person. To fit in." I let out a breath. "I finally have a best friend and a boyfriend. Is it so wrong for me to want to go?"
She shook her head. "No. I know you want to fit in, but—"
"I don't."
"That's good." She reached over and touched my arm.
"Is it?"
"Yes. You're—"
"Different." I'd known I was different from other kids ever since I was little. I couldn't put my finger on how exactly, but there was something. My parents knew it too, but they didn't talk about it. "Mom, when are you going to tell me what's really going on?"
She turned around, pleading with her expressive blue eyes. "Crystal, you need to trust us."
Typical answer.
"I have trusted you." I stopped for a second. "I just want to go to prom and have fun. That's all."
"I know, but—"
"You're worried."
She nodded.
"But you don't have any reason to. This is coming out of nowhere." I shook my head.
"Crystal—"
"Really, Mom. You’re being totally unreasonable." Frustration welled up inside me. Why is she trying to ruin prom?
We sat there in silence for a minute or so.
Finally, she said in a quiet voice, "I don't want anything to happen that you'll regret."
"It won't. I promise." I said. "I don't want to sleep with Nate. I really like him, but I'm not ready. I know that."
My mom let out the breath she seemed to be holding.
"I have plans. I want to graduate, go to college, be on Broadway." I paused. "And I want to wait for sex until I'm married. Trust me to make the right decisions and to remember what you've taught me."
She placed her warm hand on mine. "I love you."
"I love you, too."
My mom smiled and her eyes glistened. "You'll be careful? Extra careful?"
"Yes. I will. I never take your warnings lightly, but I really think prom will be fine. Maybe your feeling is about something else."
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