My Date From Hell (The Blooming Goddess Trilogy Book Two)

by Tellulah Darling

  I had become the poster child for “stay in school.”

  Principal Doucette sat behind his desk and looked me over as if to ensure I was really there.

  I took some comfort from the familiar smell of his fatherly cologne. I really liked and respected Doucette. And I think he had a soft spot for me, given my continued enrollment despite being a royal pain in his ass a lot of the time. I felt terrible that I couldn’t share what had happened and let him understand that I hadn’t just ditched school. Wasn’t trying to disappoint him.

  I squirmed in my chair guiltily, knowing I was doing precisely that.

  Before I could figure out what, exactly, I should say, Doucette spoke. “A boy is no reason to run away, Sophie.”

  Hello? Say what?

  “Bethany told us,” he explained, obviously misunderstanding my look of shock. “I understand that the adolescent years are a time of overwhelming emotions. And crushes that feel like you’ll die if they aren’t reciprocated. But to threaten both Bethany and Kai, to the point where he felt uncomfortable staying here?” He sighed and folded his hands on his cluttered desk. “It’s not right. Running away, most certainly out of remorse, is the one detail that makes me think you’re not beyond help. It’s the one reason we haven’t expelled you.”

  Delusional Adult Syndrome, I guess. But if it worked in my favor, then great.

  He looked at me as if to signal that it was my turn to talk.

  Words failed me. That cow had taken her manipulative lies to a whole new level.

  I hadn’t asked for any of this. My powers. My responsibility. The whole love mind trip. But I was dealing best I could. Actively trying the best I knew how.

  I’d just lost two months of my life and survived my psychotic father, only to come back and discover that my principal thought I was a stalker runaway and that Bethany had twisted her bully status into cemented victimhood.

  I couldn’t help it. I started to shake. With rage. Lucky for Doucette, I didn’t have enough in me to start blasting everything in sight. “I’m sorry,” I repeated again, keeping my eyes downcast and my nails digging into my palms.

  Principal Doucette handed me a box of tissues. Guess he thought I was crying.

  A knot formed in my stomach as I thought about Felicia, my adoptive mom. Any more infractions from me and she’d be thrilled to kick me off her meal ticket. Which meant no tuition money, no enrollment, no Hope Park, and, by extension, no Sophie.

  I risked a glance at my principal. “What did Felicia say?”

  “She was,” he hesitated slightly, “concerned.”

  Translation? She hadn’t given a damn and he just wanted to spare my feelings. Unsurprising but still crushing. Although when weighed against Zeus’, maybe a slightly more positive parental response to having your kid take off.

  Wow. I was really reaching for crumbs of affection here. “Tell me.”

  Principal Doucette frowned, like he really didn’t want to say anything.

  I nodded tersely for him to continue.

  “We couldn’t get hold of her for the first little while.” He sighed, fiddling with a paperclip. “Then she made it clear that she wasn’t interested in putting out a missing person’s report on you.” The pity in his eyes was probably the most upsetting part. “I did anyway, but you weren’t exactly a top priority for them. I’ll let the authorities know you’ve returned.”

  Yikes. I took a shuddery breath and looked at the upside. The fact that he wasn’t booting me out, meant Felicia was still footing the bills.

  “Here’s what I think we should do,” Principal Doucette said. He paused, thinking. “Classes are pretty lax this first week back from winter break. It’s Thursday now,” he clarified.

  Guess he wasn’t sure if I’d kept track of time during my stay on the streets. Regardless, it was good to have the info, if shocking that I was into mid-January with no memory of December. Happy New Year to me.

  “Lay low. Get your strength up. Sunday morning, you come back at 9AM and see me. I’ll set a a meeting with myself, a child psychologist, and Felicia.”

  I couldn’t help it. I laughed. I’d been there long enough for him to know that Felicia wouldn’t interrupt her life on my account.

  “I will do my best to encourage your mother to attend,” he said. “She needs to take an interest in this. In you.”

  “Hey, why not. First time for everything, right?” I set the tissue box back down on his desk, careful not to topple a pile of papers.

  “We’ll assess where you’re at and the state of your general wellbeing. Then decide on the best course of action. Best case scenario, mandatory counseling.” He stood, bracing his big frame against his desk.

  “And worst?” I pushed my chair back and stood.

  “Given the fact you were already on probation when you left? Expulsion. So it’s imperative you don’t miss the meeting.” He paused and gestured at me, palm up. “Help us out, Sophie. I want you to stay but it’s out of my hands now and onto official record. Be your best self and convince the psychologist your continued attendance here is in everyone’s benefit.”

  “Yes,” I said quietly. “I will.”

  I was going to have to plead my case harder than I’d ever done or die trying.

  Possibly literally. Not to mention that I really didn’t want to disappoint him. “I’m sorry,” I said again.

  Except I wasn’t. I felt bad about his impression of the situation but I was furious that I had to pretend to be sorry and beg to stay when none of this had been my doing. I hated Felicia for not taking an interest and I hated Zeus for taking too much of one. I wanted to show Doucette who I really was. What I was really capable of.

  Instead, I shuffled meekly out of his office.

  That meeting wasn’t even the kicker, though.

  Nope. That honor was reserved for hitting the main hall only to find a giant banner of Bethany Russo-Hill draped over one of the school windows like our new flag.

  “I’m in power now, loser,” Bethany hissed with glee into my ear.

  O.M.G.

  Four

  Ego, much?

  I pushed past Bethany, knocking her back. Of all my options at this moment—showering, eating, napping, talking to Theo and Hannah about how to proceed, obsessing over what was going to happen with Kai—none included listening to Ms. Self-Important spout off about her magically amped up, off-the charts popularity and hotness. Gifts received, I might add, from willingly serving that same dragon Delphyne in whose lair I’d almost died.

  Delphyne had been killed. Sadly, Hannah had deemed Bethany off limits to exterminate.

  The sacrifices I made in the name of friendship.

  I glanced up at the banner again. Upon closer examination, (“closer” being a relative term, meaning you’d have to be blind to miss it), I realized that it was actually an enormous blow up of the cover of SHE magazine. SHE being comparable to a wildly popular bastard child of People and Vogue.

  A glittery, gold, hand-painted sign attached to the top read “Way to go, Bethany! Hope Park’s star and Winter Formal Queen!!!”

  Ugh. Winter formal. I never felt comfortable in the fancy clothes and hated sitting and watching those stupid slow dances where guys tried to cop a feel. Spare me.

  Bethany wore the same outfit now that she did in the cover photo; a yoga ensemble in muted green that looked so soft, the bamboo fibers had probably been pre-sucked by baby pandas to give it the perfect texture.

  “Taking gag photos now?” I asked, since she now strode beside me, gloating.

  “Got a modeling gig,” she tossed back. “And about to start filming my new show. So suck it.” Bethany snapped her fingers and her best minion friend, Veronica Chen, came running over.

  I stopped at the foot of the stairs that would take me back up to my dorm on the second floor. The school was shaped like an “L” with the dorms housed in the short part of the letter. About half of the kids were day students only, but I had been a boarder at Hope Park sin
ce Felicia dumped me there in grade one.

  “The universe blesses me with bounty,” Bethany said.

  “And you repay it with bullshit.” I was sick to death of the new age “wisdoms” that she trotted out whenever others were around.

  “Bethany navigates Gaia’s children through the world,” Veronica parroted, looping her high, sleek ponytail around her finger.

  “Goody for you.” I placed a foot on the bottom stair but was yanked back by Bethany.

  She shot me a smug smile. “Shirt,” she commanded in a bored tone. Veronica grabbed a passing eighth grader named Bella, who sported a purple T-shirt.

  Bethany tapped it for clarification.

  On it was silkscreened Bethany’s silhouette in downward dog position and the text “Divine your inner power. Doggy Style with B. This fall.”

  I looked up from the shirt back to Bethany. “Wow. That’s really impressive the way you combine self-empowerment and porn moves. Who are your gurus? The Kardashians?”

  “Don’t talk to Yogi B that way,” Bella said hotly, her anger almost manifest.

  “Ignore her,” Bethany replied to her rabid fan. “She is of the unenlightened and does not have your dragon spirit. Now, go get the foot bath and nail polish basket from my room and prep for my pedi. Bring the pumice stone.” She snapped her fingers. “Move.”

  Bella looked dismayed. “Foot massage?” She squirmed. “I don’t really like feet.”

  Bethany smiled at her. “Your karma will be especially enhanced then when you help me look so fab.”

  “It will? Still …” Bella gritted her teeth. “Feet.”

  I was done here. I started up the first few steps, my body heavy with fatigue. Man, was I sore.

  “Think of how wonderful it would feel to bring me such joy.”

  I glanced over my shoulder, rolling my eyes in time to see Bethany place her hand on Bella’s arm. Like some kind of blessing.

  Bella radiated devotion. It wasn’t even diminished when Bethany shoved her away abruptly.

  “On it, B!” Bella trilled, racing up the stairs, two at a time.

  I slowed. That was somewhat disconcerting.

  No. I had bigger problems. I did not want to get involved.

  But if Bethany was up to magically enhanced no good, it seemed I had no choice. With a sigh, I tromped back down the stairs.

  Bethany peered at her hand in disgust. “Uck. I keep forgetting I don’t have to touch them.” She held out her hand and Veronica squirted a blob of hand sanitizer into it.

  “Don’t piss B off,” Veronica said as I rejoined them.

  Bethany swung her head and glared at Veronica haughtily. “Do I look like I need you to talk for me? Go do something useful and get me some coconut water.”

  Bethany’s rudeness didn’t even phase Veronica. She just sashayed off, commandeering some guy to do her bidding. If she couldn’t be top dog, she was sure going to enjoy being second-in-command.

  I was more concerned with what I’d just witnessed. “Did you just zombify Bella?”

  “As if I’d hang with the undead.”

  Fair point. But still. I looked around and realized with growing horror that it wasn’t just one banner and one T-shirt. Photos of Bethany were plastered everywhere, being fawned over by groups of rapt kids in “B” shirts.

  “I don’t understand …” I stammered. “I was only gone two months. How is this possible? What did you do to them?”

  “I didn’t have to do anything,” she shot back. “The people love me.” She smoothed back a strand of her hair.

  “You mean they’re susceptible to the popularity hit Delphyne gave you.”

  Bethany shrugged. “Most of them already admired me. Now they feel good knowing I care about them, too.”

  “Which you don’t,” I retorted.

  “Oh, but I do.” She gestured widely with her hands, including all of her followers like some kind of demented Dalai Lama. “ I love everyone who loves me.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Everyone willing to do what you want.”

  Bethany waved a hand. “Same same. It’s a win-win situation.”

  Uh-huh. “And for those smart enough not to love you?”

  Her eyes glittered with a hard satisfaction. “Trust me. There are very few of those.”

  I threw her a “get real” look. “There are billions of them, Bethany. Sorry to burst your bubble but there’s a world bigger than Hope Park.” I gestured at the banner. “Or the readership of She.”

  Bethany tossed her hair. “That’s where Jack Wing, Head of Wing Media comes in. Even you must have heard of him.”

  My palms glowed. Had I been able, I would have walloped her into a wall at her contempt for me. Instead, I dialed it back and poked her hard in the chest. Bethany was one of the few humans who knew all about me, so periodic reminders of the bodily harm I could do never hurt. “Don’t push me.”

  You’d have to be living under a rock not to know Jack Wing. His reality TV shows like Snake Eyes (wannabe gamblers seeking fame and fortune) and Wrong Note (wannabe musicians seeking same) were watched globally. But the show that hit stratosphere proportions for both popularity and trash-factor was Endgame, where contestants fought chess “battles” as weird pageantry met Japanese game show-style challenges in a race across a giant chessboard.

  Jack Wing was the ultimate puppet master of reality TV. But I still didn’t see the connection. “What’s the deal?”

  Bethany was more than happy to enlighten me. She leaned in, making sure I followed every word. “He adores me. See, it turns out that my charms are amplified on video. I had Jack twisted around my little finger in a second. I requested fame and he happily complied. I’m multi-media now, bitch.” Bethany gave a satisfied smirk at my dawning understanding.

  Jack’s global reach plus Bethany’s magicked charms equaled one very worrisome situation.

  “Saturday,” she continued, starting up the stairwell, me the one now trotting at her heels, “I’ll be crowned Winter Formal Queen. Jack’s going to feature the video as the final segment on his show Global Voyeur. Cross-posted across all platforms as a final ramp up to Doggy Style. To really cement the idea of me being media royalty.” She paused, a thoughtful look on her face. “I have always wanted to land a prince.”

  I stepped in close. “Over my dead body.”

  She smiled. As if that could be arranged. “Soon after the dance,” she continued, “my show goes on the air. The masses will worship me. I’m going to be the world’s most famous celebrity.” She continued up the steps.

  “For bending over?” I asked motioning to the image of Bethany in her downward dog on some passing kid’s T-shirt. “How appropriate.” The situation was worse than I thought if this media mogul thought a show called Doggy Style was appropriate for a teen host.

  “I’m going to promote wisdom, fashion, and the importance of social hierarchies in schools,” she said.

  “You mean bullying.”

  “Potato, potahto.” Bethany gave me a sweet smile that, with her dark red hair and big blue eyes should have seemed like innocence personified.

  Instead I just saw it for the evil it was, masked by a magically enhanced pretty face.

  Her smile widened. “Soon there will be no place for people like you. Oh, and you specifically. I’ll have it all. And you? What have you got? Vines. That you can’t even show anyone because they’d CIA your ass into Area 51 and study you like the freak show you are.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully with her index finger. “Or maybe I’ll turn you in myself if you don’t back off Kai. Why have a prince when I can have a god?”

  Technically, he was both. And she was getting neither. Whatever relationship she may or may not have had with him? That was over. Competing with Persephone was one thing, but damned if I’d let Bethany think she got to be part of the mix any longer.

  I flicked a finger against Bethany’s sleeve under which I knew was the tattoo given to her by Delphyne the dragon. A ring of laurel leaves
circling her arm, with a small dragon hidden in them, the tattoo was the source of her cranked up popularity and beauty.

  I didn’t say a word. Just smiled to remind her that I could blast her arm off any time I wanted. Well, as soon as I had fully recharged. Not that she needed to know that.

  I made a quiet zapping noise. For added emphasis.

  Bethany removed my hand from her arm and tsked me. “I’ve got protectors now.” And with that, she turned and flounced off.

  “What the hell kind of bizarro world did I come back to?” I demanded as I threw open the door to the raspberry-colored bedroom I shared with Hannah.

  How incredible to be back amidst Hannah’s meticulously organized science equipment, books, and field hockey gear, and my random clutter of mementos like postcards from Hannah and wind-up toys from Theo. Not to mention my comfy, excellently tricked out blue bedding.

  I cocked an expectant eyebrow at Theo and Hannah. They stared back at me, then started talking at once, trying to explain.

  The gist of it, as I finally understood, was that Bethany really had caught the attention of this media mogul. Snowed like everyone else, he threw a lightning-fast campaign behind her. First she’d had the magazine cover. Next, Jack had hired social media experts to up Bethany’s online presence with videos of her doing nothing more beyond hanging out and spouting Bethanyisms.

  So verrah glad I’d missed that.

  And after she was crowned Winter Formal Queen, she would be flown off to begin filming her her yoga/talk show where she’d do a few moves with celebs and then gab.

  Goddess help us all. Bethany was going to achieve the dream of far too many. To be famous for nothing. And she was pursuing it with a vengeance.

  “She has to be stopped,” I said, and flopped onto the downy comforter on my bed. It was the most heavenly feeling ever. “No way does she get to spread her vapid and dangerous ideas to the willing masses. I mean, what’s the point of saving humanity if this is what I’m saving it for? Uh-uh. Her infamy ends now.”