The Tiny Curse (Werewolf High Book 2) by Anita Oh

he talked about his Barbie really got to me. He was trying to sound so formal and cold, but he wasn't fooling anyone and I knew what it was like to lose something important to you and pretend as if you hadn't. It was about more than just the Barbie.
    Wow, I never in my life expected to sympathize with Tennyson Wilde. Maybe it was because my brain was now the size of a pea.
    Still, I couldn't say outright that I picked Tennyson Wilde. That would just be too weird for everyone.
    "I'm not a doll," I told them. "And I'm definitely not a wedding stylist. And I don't need babysitting. I can just stay on that big comfortable cushion over there."
    Sam raised his eyebrows and turned away. It made my heart sink a bit but I couldn't have chosen him, not when I kept putting my foot in it and messing with his wolfy calm or whatever. I didn't exactly want to get munched on in my sleep and I had no defenses against him. I wanted to spend time with him, all my time, but I didn't know how to make that something possible.
    Althea just shrugged. "Okay, but if you change your mind, just yell out."
    The four of them settled in to do their homework, but I had no way to study. I couldn't read books or type or use a touch screen. My future looked grim and full of boredom. Maybe I could rig something up so I could use a laptop at least, but I'd need all my equipment, and that was in my room. I'd need help.
    Sam was engrossed in a book. When I looked more closely, I realized it was the book from my bag, the one written by our parents. He was so absorbed in it, his face all crinkled up in concentration, that I didn't want to disturb him. And he was probably a bit too volatile for this kind of high-stress mission anyway. There was no way I was asking Tennyson Wilde for help and I didn't want Althea to get into trouble if she got caught. That only left one person.
    "Psst," I said to Nikolai. "Hey, I have a business proposition for you."
    "Sorry," he said. "I can't hear you over the smell."
    It was kind of hard going, but I managed to climb up onto his arm, scale up to his shoulder and flick him on the ear.
    "Look," I said. "I know you've got a bit of a thing for my roommate, Hannah."
    I couldn't see his expression because I was sitting on his shoulder, but his neck grew a bit pink.
    "I don't know what you're talking about," he muttered. "Shut up."
    "It's okay, she's very cute and nice and probably too good for you. You know she thinks you're a dickbag though, right? How about you help me out and I change her mind about you?"
    I left out the bit about how she wasn't speaking to me and probably thought I was the #1 dickbag in the world. That was just a temporary thing and therefore not relevant.
    "What do you propose?" he asked.
    *
    It wasn't getting into the Red House that was the problem, Nikolai had my keycard out of my bag and the security wasn't half as tight as for the Golden House. It was that Nikolai Volkov was very recognizable. Especially when wearing a mustard-colored top hat. Nobody said anything, but there were stares and whispers, and as he made his way down the hallway to my door, people were gathered in doorways, peeking out. I heard the snickety-click or more than one photo being taken. When he leaned against my doorjam, the whispers broke into outright muttering. He knocked on the door with one knuckle and waved nonchalantly to the people gathering in the hall.
    "Don't spook them," I whispered. "You don't know how ferocious they can be."
    We waited a moment for Hannah to open the door but there was no answer.
    "You can't just sneak in with them all watching," I whispered. "It's too suspicious."
    He banged on the door with his fist. "Come on, babe," he called out, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Don't be like this! Don't throw away everything we have!"
    The crowd seemed to creep forward, closing in on us.
    "That is the opposite of helping," I told him. "Also, make sure they know you're talking to Hannah and not me. The last thing I need