Beastly (4 page)

“Hey, where’s your ticket?” one of the ticket-taking drones said to her.

“Oh… I don’t have… I was looking for someone.”

I saw a flash of pity on the ticket taker’s face, like she knew exactly what was going down, loser to loser. But she said, “Sorry. I can’t let you in without a ticket.”

“I’m waiting for my date.”

Another pitying look. “Okay,” the volunteer said. “Just stand back a little.”

“Fine.”

I went to Sloane. I pointed at where Kendra was loserishly standing. “Showtime.” That was when Kendra spotted me.

Sloane knew just what to do. Even though she was pissed at me, she was the type who’d never miss the opportunity to cause another girl permanent emotional damage. She grabbed me and planted a big kiss on my lips. “I love you, Kyle.”

Sweet. I kissed her again, not repeating what she’d said.

When we finished, Kendra was staring at us. I walked over to her.

“What are you looking at, Ugly?”

I expected her to cry then. It was fun to kick the nerds, make them cry, then kick them some more.

I’d been looking forward to this night for a while. It almost made up for the corsage crap.

But instead she said, “You really did it.”

“Did what?” I said.

“Look at her.” Sloane giggled. “She’s all dressed up in that ugly dress. It makes her look even fatter.”

“Yeah, where’d you find that?” I said. “A trash heap?”

“It was my grandmother’s,” Kendra said.

“Around here people buy new dresses for a dance.” I laughed.

“So you’re actually doing this, then?” she said. “You really did invite me to a dance even though you had another date, just to make me look stupid?”

I laughed again. “You actually thought someone like me would take someone like you to a dance?”

“No, I didn’t. But I hoped you wouldn’t make my decision so easy, Kyle.”

“What decision?” Behind me, Sloane was cackling, chanting, “Loser,” and soon other people started in until finally the whole room was buzzing with the word so I could barely think straight.

I looked at the girl, Kendra. She wasn’t crying. She didn’t look embarrassed either. She had this intense look in her eyes, like this chick in this old Stephen King movie I once saw, Carrie, where this girl developed telekinetic powers and took her enemies out. And I almost expected Kendra to start doing that

– killing people just by looking at them.

But instead she said in a voice only I could hear, “You’ll see.” And she walked out.

7

Fast-forward through the evening. Picture a typical dance, lame music, chaperones trying to keep us from actually mating on the dance floor. All sort of a pre-party for the real party to follow. But I kept hearing Kendra’s words, ringing in my ears: You’ll see. Sloane got friendly, and once we got crowned prince and princess, she got even friendlier. With some girls, popularity and the power that goes with it are some kind of aphrodisiac. Sloane was like that. We stood on stage, getting crowned. Sloane leaned toward me.

“My mom’s out tonight.” She took my hand and put it on her butt.

I removed it. “Great.”

You’ll see.

She continued, pressing closer, her breath hot in my ear. “She went to an opera – three and a half hours. I called the Met to find out. And she usually gets dinner after. She won’t be home until almost one… I mean if you wanted to come over awhile.” Her hand slipped down my stomach, edging closer to the Danger Zone. Unbelievable. She was groping me in front of the whole school?

I moved away. “I only have the limo until midnight.” Brett Davis, who’d been prince last year, came toward me with my crown. I bowed my head to humbly accept it.

“Use it wisely,” Brett said.

“Cheap,” Sloane said. “I’m not worth taking a cab? That’s what you’re saying?” What did “You’ll see” mean? And Sloane and Brett were too close, cutting off my air. Things and people were coming at me from all sides. I couldn’t think straight.

“Kyle Kingsbury, answer me.”

“Will you just get away from me?” I exploded.

It seemed like everyone and everything in the room stopped when I said that.

“You bastard,” Sloane said.

“I have to go home,” I said. “Do you want to stay or take the limo?” You’ll see.

“You think you’re leaving? Leaving me?” Sloane whispered, loud enough for anyone in a ten-mile radius to hear. “If you leave here, it will be the last thing you’ll ever do. So smile, and dance with me. I’m not going to let you ruin my night, Kyle.”

So that’s what I did. I smiled and danced with her. And afterward, I took her back to her house and drank Absolut vodka, stolen from her parents’ bar (“Absolut Royalty!” Sloane toasted), and did everything else she expected and I’d been expecting too, and tried to forget the voice in my head, the voice saying, “You’ll see,” over and over. And finally, at eleven forty-five, I made my escape.

When I got home, the light was on in my bedroom. Weird. Probably Magda had been cleaning in there and forgot it.

But when I opened the door, the witch was sitting on my bed.

8

“What are you doing here?” I said it loud enough to hide the fact that my voice was shaking, and sweat was dripping out of every pore, and my blood was pounding like I’d been running the track. And yet I couldn’t say I was surprised to see her. I’d been expecting her since the dance. I just didn’t know when or how.

She stared at me. I noticed her eyes again, the same bottle color as her hair, and I had this weird thought: What if it was natural, the hair as well as the eyes? What if they’d grown that way?

Crazy. “Why are you in my house?” I repeated. She smiled. I noticed for the first time that she held a mirror, the same one she’d had the first day on the benches. She peered into it as she chanted,

“Retribution. Poetic justice. Just deserts. Comeuppance.”

I stared. In the moment she spoke, she didn’t look as ugly as I remembered her. It was those eyes, those glowing green eyes. Her skin glowed too.

“What do you mean, ‘Comeuppance’?”

“It’s an SAT word, Kyle. You should learn it. You will learn it. It means well-deserved punishment.”

Punishment. Over the years, lots of people – housekeepers, my teachers – had threatened me with punishments. They never stuck. Usually, I could charm my way out of them. Or my dad could pay someone off. But what if she was some kind of crazy psycho?

“Look,” I said. “About tonight. I’m sorry. I didn’t think you were really going to show up. I knew you didn’t really like me, so I didn’t think you’d get your feelings hurt.” I needed to be nice. She was obviously crazy. What if she had a gun under those big clothes?

“I didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?”

“Like you. Or get my feelings hurt.”

“Oh.” I gave her the look I usually used on teachers, the “I’m a good kid” look. When I did, I noticed something weird. Her nose, which I’d thought was long and witchlike before, wasn’t. Must have been the shadows. “Good. So we’re all squared?”

“I didn’t get my feelings hurt because I knew you’d blow me off, Kyle, knew you were cruel and ruthless and that, given the opportunity, you would hurt someone… just to show you could.” I met her eyes. Her eyelashes looked different. Longer. I shook my head. “That’s not why.”

“Then why?” Her lips were blood-red.

“What’s going on here?”

“I told you. Comeuppance. You will know what it is like not to be beautiful, to be as ugly on the outside as on the inside. If you learn your lesson well, you may be able to undo my spell. If not, you will live with your punishment forever.”

As she spoke, her cheeks reddened. She shed her cloak to reveal that she was a hot – though green-haired – babe. But something was weird – how could she transform like that? I was getting freaked out.

But I couldn’t back off. I couldn’t be afraid of her. So I tried again. Where charm didn’t work, bringing my dad in usually did.

I said, “You know my dad’s got a lot of money – connections too.”

“Everyone wants something, Kyle. So?”

“So I know it must be hard being a scholarship student at a school like Tuttle, but my dad can sort of grease the wheels, get you what you want. Money. College recs, even a shot on the evening news if I asked him. What, did you have on a disguise before? You’re actually pretty hot, you know. You’d be good on TV.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Sure… I…” I stopped. She was laughing.

“I don’t go to Tuttle,” she said. “I don’t go to school at all or live here or anywhere. I am old as the ages and young as the dawn. Otherworldly beings cannot be bribed.” Oh. “So you’re saying you’re a… a… witch.”

Her hair flowing around her face seemed now green, now purple, now black, like a strobe light. I realized I was holding my breath, waiting for her answer.

“Yes.”

“Right.” I said, understanding. She was truly crazy.

“Kyle Kingsbury, what you did was ugly. And it wasn’t the first time. All your life you’ve gotten special treatment because of your beauty, and all your life you’ve used that beauty to be cruel to those less fortunate.”

“That’s not true.”

“Second grade, you told Terry Fisher that the reason her head was lopsided was because her mother had slammed it in the car door. She cried for an hour.”

“That was kid stuff.”

“Maybe. But in sixth grade you had a party at Gameworks and invited the whole class – except two kids, Lara Ritter and David Sweeney. You told them they were too ugly to be allowed in.” She looked at me. “Do you think that’s funny?”

Yeah. Kind of. But I said, “That’s still a long time ago. I had problems then. That was the year my mom left.” Kendra seemed inches taller now.

“Last year, Wimberly Sawyer had a crush on you. You asked for her number, then had all your friends torment her with obscene phone calls until her parents got the number changed. Do you know how embarrassing that was for her? Think about it.”

For one second I imagined it, what it would be like being Wimberly, telling my dad that everyone at school hated me. And for one second I couldn’t bear to think of it. Wimberly hadn’t just changed her number. At the end of the year, she’d left Tuttle too.

“You’re right,” I said. “I was an asshole. I won’t do it again.” I almost believed it. She was right. I should be nicer. I didn’t know why I was mean and cruel sometimes. Sometimes I’d told myself I’d be nicer to people. But always, in an hour or so, I forgot it, because it felt good to be on top of them all. Maybe a psychologist, one of those guys on TV, would say I did it to feel important, because my parents didn’t pay attention to me or something. But that wasn’t it, not really. It was just, like, sometimes I couldn’t help it.

In the living room, the grandfather clock started to strike midnight.

“You’re right,” the witch said, spreading her now ripped arms. “You won’t do it again. In some countries, when a man steals, they cut off his hand. If a man rapes, he is castrated. In this way the tools of crime are removed from those who commit them.” The clock was still striking. Nine. Ten. The room was glowing and almost spinning.

“Are you crazy?” I looked at her hands, to see if she had a knife, if she was going to try and cut something off me. I thought I must be really drunk because this couldn’t be happening. She couldn’t be doing magic. That’s it. It had to be a drunken hallucination.

The clock finished striking. Kendra touched my shoulder, turning me away from her so I faced the mirror over my bureau. “Kyle Kingsbury, behold.”

I turned and gaped at the sight that met my eyes.

“What have you done to me?” When I said it, my voice was different. It came out a roar.

She waved her hand with a shower of sparks.

“I have transformed you to your truer self.”

I was a beast.

CHAT

Mr. Anderson:
I’m glad so many of you have come back this week. Today, we’ll be talking about your family’s and friends’ reactions to your transformation.

BeastNYC:
<- Not talking this time bc spilled guts last time
Mr. Anderson:
Why are you so angry, Beast?

BeastNYC:
Wouldn’t you be angry if you were me?

Mr. Anderson:
I’d be trying to think of a way out of my situation.

BeastNYC:
no way out.

Mr. Anderson:
There’s always a way out. No spell is cast without a reason.

BeastNYC:
You’re taking the WITCH’S side???

Mr. Anderson:
I didn’t say that.

BeastNYC:
Besides, how can you be so sure there’s a way out?

Mr. Anderson:
I just am.

BeastNYC:
How do you know there aren’t lots of fish and birds and spiders out there who got transformed and *never* came back?

SilentMaid:
I’m sure there are no fish. I’d know about it.

BeastNYC:
Do you have some kind of magic powers that let you know that? Because if so, use your powers to put me back the way I was.

Mr. Anderson:
Beast…

SilentMaid:
Can I say something?

BeastNYC:
Please, Silent. Maybe he’ll leave me alone.

SilentMaid:
It’s just, I’d like to talk about the planned topic instead of listening to Beast’s rants.

I’m considering a transformation, and I’m most concerned about my family’s reactions.

Mr. Anderson:
Interesting. Why is that, Silent?

SilentMaid:
Should be obvious. I’d be doing this voluntarily, unlike the others, and even in the best-case scenario, I’d be rejecting not only my family, but my species.

Mr. Anderson:
Tell us more, Silent.

SilentMaid:
Well, I love this guy, the one I saved, and I could become human and meet him if I sacrifice my voice. If he falls in love with me = happily ever after. But if he doesn’t… well, there’s some risk involved.

BeastNYC:
How do you know it’s true love?

Grizzlyguy:
There’s always some risk involved when dealing with persons of the witch persuasion.