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
“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
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