I actually said the word that time, and David’s eyes went so wide I wondered if that had shocked him more than the disappearing Cadillac.
But he never got a chance to answer me.
“Yoo-hoo!” a voice called out from the other side of my fence, and David and I both went still.
“Is that?” I hissed.
“My Aunt Saylor.” He gulped.
The back gate swung open, and suddenly Saylor Stark was standing there, a pair of Chanel sunglasses pushed down her nose as she took in the sight of me, shaking and sweaty, clutching the front of her nephew’s T-shirt.
“Oh my,” she said, and two syllables had never contained so much dismay. “What exactly is going on here?”
David and I practically leapt apart as Saylor moved into the yard, her high heels sinking slightly. The late afternoon sunlight flashed on her silver hair as well as the silver and turquoise jewelry around her neck. Other than a slight grass stain on the hem of her beige trousers, she looked as immaculate as ever.
“I was over at Anne Beckwith’s, and I thought I saw your car tearing down the street, David James Stark,” she said, pushing her sunglasses back into place with one finger. “But I told myself, ‘Of course not, Saylor. David would never drive so irresponsibly. Besides, he’s meant to be in school right now.’”
She turned her head to me. “As are you, correct, Miss Price?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said feebly. “I . . . I felt sick, and David offered to drive me home.”
I couldn’t see her eyes behind her dark glasses, but I had a feeling they were very cold. “Really?” she said. “How odd. Because right after I had the thought that David would never, ever drive his car in such a manner, I noticed that he was not the one behind the wheel.”
Oh God. Of all the people to see me doing my Dale Earnhardt, Jr., impression, it had to be Saylor Stark.
“She asked to drive it,” David said, speaking up for the first time. He still seemed a little out of it, and his voice wasn’t as strong as normal, but he was still good at thinking on his feet. “She’d never driven one like it before, so she, uh, wanted to.”
As one, the three of us looked over at David’s pathetic Dodge. Even without its fender and back door mangled, it didn’t exactly scream, “DRIVE ME.”
Maybe David wasn’t that great at thinking on his feet. And why did he even own a car like that, anyway? Saylor surely could’ve afforded something nicer. It was probably a point of pride with him, like his weird thrift shop wardrobe.
“I’m sorry, Aunt Saylor,” he continued. “I shouldn’t have ditched school, but Harper, uh, was sick. And you’re always going on about good citizenship.”
I tried not to let surprise show on my face. That was actually a pretty good save. Certainly better than “chicks really want to get behind the wheel of my Stratus.” And the fact that he’d been able to do it after nearly getting killed and dealing with what appeared to be magic was impressive.
“Good citizenship doesn’t have to come at the cost of your own morals, David,” Saylor snapped. “You know better than to skip class, and I am very disappointed in you. And of course, we haven’t even gotten into the completely reckless way you two were driving. I think you and I will be having a long talk when I get done with Cotillion practice this afternoon, young man.”
Saylor’s gaze swung back to me. “Speaking of, Miss Price, if you’re feeling so ill, maybe you’d better sit today’s rehearsal out.”
“But we’re supposed to practice the prayer today,” I said, blinking. “I’m leading the prayer.”
Her smile was brittle. “I’m sure Miss Franklin will do a fine job filling in. And maybe by Wednesday’s practice, you’ll be feeling more yourself.”
Sick for real now, I could only nod. Behind my parents, Saylor Stark was the last person in the world I wanted to disappoint. And there was no mistaking that tone. Not only had she caught me skipping class, I was skipping class with her nephew, whom I had clearly sucked into my downward spiral. If she knew that I’d also made him an accessory to what might have been murder . . .
And that’s when it hit me. David was Saylor’s nephew. He had lived with her his whole life. If people wanted to kill him, surely Saylor would know why. But how exactly did you go about asking something like that? Hi, Miss Saylor, are y’all by any chance in the witness protection program? Or hiding from wizards? She wouldn’t just take the prayer away from me after that. She’d kick me out of the entire Cotillion. Maybe even out of the entire town.
As she dusted imaginary dirt from her slacks, I watched Saylor, trying to see if there was any sign that she knew why David and I had been speeding down the street. But between the huge sunglasses and Saylor’s Perfect Southern Lady ability to repress any and all emotions, I couldn’t tell.
David, shaking off his daze, moved toward his aunt. “Let Harper do the stupid prayer,” he said, sounding a bit more like himself. “This isn’t her fault.”
Saylor’s head shot up. “First of all, you will not call the Cotillion prayer ‘stupid.’ Secondly, you should be at school right now, not drag racing down Ivy Lane. Thirdly, I have told you that you need to be more careful. And going a hundred miles an hour in a car that is on its last legs is hardly careful. What if you’d had another one of your headaches?”
David scowled at her. “My headaches are no big deal,” he said, but Saylor held up her hand.
“We are not having this argument in Miss Price’s backyard. You’re coming with me.”
He flung one long arm out toward his Stratus. “My car—”
“You can pick it up in the morning. Harper, I’m sure your parents won’t mind if David leaves his vehicle here.”
The way she said it left no doubt that refusing was not an option. “It’s fine,” I said. “And honestly, it’s still another few hours until practice, and I’m sure if I took a quick nap and had a sandwich, I’d be fine, too.” I ended with a little laugh, as if by sheer force of will, I could make her see the funny side to all of this.
That smile again, the one that felt like a threat. “I’ll see you on Wednesday, Harper,” she said, and I could practically hear a gavel go down. I’d been found guilty of Unladylike Behavior, Nephew Endangerment, and, if the look she shot my boots was any indication, Improper Footwear.
And if she ever found out about Ryan . . . oh God, Ryan. I had to call him. I had to explain. “Say good-bye to Harper, David,” Saylor trilled as she began making her way toward David’s car, moving on the balls of her feet to keep her heels from sinking again.
David’s eyes met mine, and I could tell the shock was definitely wearing off. He was getting that same predatory look he’d had at the Homecoming Dance. “Tomorrow. You and me. We need to talk,” he said in a low voice.
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “Duh. But . . . I need to smooth things over with Ryan before I’m seen having sneaky conversations with you. So let me find you tomorrow, okay?”
“Pretty sure ninjas and magic and dead guys trump your boyfriend’s insecurity,” he hissed, leaning in closer.
“And pretty sure you now know I could kick your behind, so why don’t you let me handle this?” I whispered back. That wasn’t true, of course. If David hadn’t been rattled, he would’ve remembered this morning, when I hadn’t even been able to slap him. But at least I got a little satisfaction out of seeing him go pale.