Covet (24 page)

Huh? Okay, maybe I was going deaf instead of developing better hearing. My penny-pinching, world’s-most-frugal mother did not just say she agreed with her ex-husband about blowing a wad of cash on unnecessary clothing.

“Think of it as camouflage,” Dad said. “Like birds. If you return to school wearing the same clothing you have always worn, everyone will have no choice but to notice every single change in your physical appearance. But if you show up wearing not only new clothing, but highly fashionable attire that most of the other teens will not have, their attention will be drawn to that instead. Then any physical changes they do notice will simply be written off as part of your makeover.”

“This is so dumb,” I muttered, flopping back in my chair and crossing my arms. I couldn’t believe Mom had sided with Dad this time. They never agreed on anything!

“Oh come on, Sav,” Mom teased. “Shopping is supposed to be fun, not torture.”

I looked away as I confessed the truth. “But…I don’t read magazines. I don’t even know what’s in fashion now.” Heck, I didn’t even know which fashion magazines were in fashion right now!

“Ah, but I do,” Dad said with a smile.

I stared up at him with one eyebrow raised. He had to be kidding.

“What?” he asked. “It is important that vampires do not draw attention by being old-fashioned.”

This coming from the guy who couldn’t speak a contraction to save his life.

I squinted, studying him, wondering if maybe I could get away with a spell to change his mind. On second thought, knowing my luck, not only would Dad figure out I’d used magic on him, but Gowin would too and then the whole vamp council would have a major freak-out session over it.

“Hon, trust your father on this,” Mom said. “When we used to go out together, the waitresses never noticed how pale he was, or how little he ate. All they saw were his nice suits and shoes.”

“Thanks,” Dad said somewhat dryly.

“He’s actually pretty good with the whole fashion thing,” Mom added with just a hint of reluctance. “In fact, I even used to let him pick out a few things for me sometimes.”

“Only when I grew tired of your garage-sale consignment-shop bohemian look,” Dad replied.

Sensing yet another of their infamous arguments brewing, I sat up. “Okay. Fine, buy whatever you think is necessary, Dad. Happy?”

“Oh, and let’s do a fashion show Sunday night so I can see your new look!” Mom said, practically clapping her hands in anticipation.

“Sure Mom. Talk to you later.”
And thanks for all the help with Dad.

She blew me a kiss and we ended the webcam connection.

I turned my chair to face Dad, expecting him to still be standing behind me all smug about winning the debate. Instead he was already in my closet pawing through the clothes.

“Excuse me, but what are you doing?” Maybe it was time to set some boundaries here.

“Seeing if anything can be salvaged.”

“Uh, just because I agreed to new school clothes doesn’t mean we’re throwing out all my old stuff. I still get to wear what I want around the house, right?”

He sighed heavily. “Fine. Be ready early tomorrow morning. I researched area stores and the Galleria in Houston appears to have the brands you need.”

Me, at a mall with my dad? “No, thanks.”

He stared at me with a frown. “You just agreed—”

“To wear whatever you pick out. But you don’t need me there to weigh in on any of it. Just take down my sizes from the perfectly good clothing I already have and use that.” Whatever he chose I was bound to look ridiculous in. Everyone knew I was clueless about fashion. Fashionably hopeless was my
look
now. If he thought I’d actually help him turn me into a fashionista wannabe, which everyone was going to see right through within seconds and laugh in my face about, he was nuts.

They’d probably even blame my new wardrobe on some pathetic attempt to win Tristan back. I could practically hear the Brat Twins teasing me about it now.

“Fine,” he snapped. “Forgive me for assuming you might want some input in this process.”

“Well, I don’t.” I swiveled my chair away from him and back toward my desk.

“Fine!”

“Great!” I snapped back. “And don’t forget, I have the Charmers slumber party tomorrow night.” I threw that last part over my shoulder at his retreating back as he headed out the bedroom door.

He reappeared in the doorway. “I do
not
think you should attend that.”

“They have it every year. I have to be there. It’s one of the best parts of being on the team!”

He glared at me. “You will be locked within a room with over forty humans. What if the bloodlust should join the party, as your mother would say?”

I scowled. “I’ll be fine. We’re just going to play a bunch of silly games and listen to music.” And exchange our old team bracelet charms for new ones while we learned the team motto and theme song for the upcoming year. And this time I’d be doing it all as the official head manager.

“I’ll have my phone with me at all times,” I promised, trying not to let a whine creep into my voice.

He stared at me.

“Please, Dad?” I said, giving up and letting the whine out.

Maybe I should use that mind-changing spell on him after all.

“In return, you swear you will wear whatever I choose for your school wardrobe this year? Including accessories
and
shoes?”

Okay, now this was starting to feel like a trap. “Well, within reason. I mean, it has to meet school dress code requirements or else they’ll keep sending me home to change all the time.”

He looked down his nose at me. “I have already consulted the school website for these dress codes and will keep them in mind while choosing your new attire.”

“Fine. I’ll wear whatever you pick out.”
Please, do not let it be too revolting or make people laugh at me too loudly.

“Fine. You may go to the Charmers slumber party tomorrow night. As long as you feed tonight.”

I wanted to argue about that last part. But the look in his eyes said not to bother. And on second thought, maybe it was a good idea. Better safe than sorry, and if I fed now, hopefully the blood memories would have stopped by the time the party started at six tomorrow night.

“Okay,” I grumbled.

He walked away with a satisfied air, and I got the distinct impression that I’d just been tricked somehow.

Whatever. At least I’d get to go to the party.

CHAPTER 16

Which turned out to be way harder than I’d expected, even though the blood memories had faded by the time I arrived at the school’s main gym.

Last year’s slumber party had been a blast. Of course, that was before I apparently looked like a cross between a human and a mannequin. By the end of the night I’d lost count of the times I had to explain why I was so pale and all my freckles had faded away (“the weird gym lighting”), or why I wasn’t eating anything (“already ate”).

And then there was the small fact that I could now hear everyone’s thoughts.

When I’d first walked into the gym, I’d thought that the noise level seemed so loud because they had multiple jamboxes on somewhere, each one turned to a different radio talk show or something. It had taken me a few minutes to realize what I was really hearing. When I did figure it out, I’d had to duck into the girls’ restroom in order to calm down. The stupid feeding must have caused it.

At least the bloodlust hadn’t shown up, too.

“How did it go?” Dad called from the kitchen as I entered the house the next morning.

“Fine,” I sighed, knowing he’d hear me even if I whispered no matter what room he was working in today.

I left it at that. No way was I going to tell him about the ESP ability. If I did, the council would know about it and try to recruit me as their newest spy or something.

I trudged up the steps to my room, kicked off my sneakers, went to stick them in my closet, and froze.

When I’d given Dad the go-ahead to buy new stuff, I thought he’d get a few things to supplement my wardrobe.

We really had to work on our communication skills.

“A skirt?” I muttered, holding up a clear-plastic-draped black-lace thing on a hanger. Next to it hung some kind of black-and-white dress. Hadn’t he noticed that my closet featured only jeans? I didn’t own dresses or skirts for a
reason
. Surely he didn’t really expect me to wear this kind of stuff to school. Maybe the skirt and dress were for special occasions. Though what those would be, I had no idea. Maybe I could wear them for Christmas and the Charmers end of year banquet or something.

Then I spotted the shoe boxes. Holding my breath, I opened the first one, and the air whooshed out of my lungs in pure horror.

My phone rang in my pocket. I grabbed it, still staring at the new footwear as I answered.

“Hey, ready for school on Monday?” Anne said by way of a greeting. At least I couldn’t hear her thoughts over the phone.

Then I realized what she’d said. Oh great. Tomorrow I’d have to deal with school, rumors about Tristan and me, gossip about Tristan and Bethany, who were still seeing each other,
and
hearing everyone’s thoughts all day.

“Oh yay, I can hardly wait,” I grumbled. “How’d your shopping go?” The girls had gotten together yesterday evening to take advantage of all the back-to-school sales in Tyler.

Anne launched into telling me all about it…where they’d shopped, the mountain of “crap,” as she put it, that Michelle and Carrie had talked her into getting.

“I needed you there to keep them from ganging up on me!” she growled.

I smiled, realizing how much I missed my friends. At least there was one good thing about going back to school tomorrow. I’d get to see them all again in a nice, safe public setting.

“Sounds like you had fun.” I flopped into the rolling chair at my desk. “My dad insisted on buying all new stuff for me to wear this year. Wait till you see what he picked out. You’re going to fall over laughing.”

“Total makeover, huh?”

“And then some. He went to the Galleria. And the stuff he picked out…dresses. And skirts. And
heels
!”

Anne snorted with laughter.

“I ask you, just how the heck am I supposed to walk across the practice fields and climb metal bleachers at Charmers practice in heels?” I asked.

After she stopped snickering, she said, “Well, you could always take a second outfit of normal clothes with you every day and change at school.”

“Tempting. Except I promised I’d wear whatever he picked out.”

“Why would you do that?”

“It was the only way he would let me go to the Charmers slumber party last night.”

“Oh yeah? And was it worth it?”

“I wish I could say yes. But I ended up spending the whole night lying about why I wasn’t eating and why I’m so pale now.”

“You’ve always been pale.”

“Yeah, well, according to Mom I’ve reached whole new levels of pale lately.” Ever since I started the dumb vamp feedings. But no way was I discussing
that
with Anne.

I sighed. “Hey, if we don’t have any classes together before lunch tomorrow, save me a seat at our usual table, okay? I may not be able to eat, but at least we can all go over our class schedules together. And before you ask, yes, you have my permission to laugh as loudly as you want at the heels.”

She snorted. “My grandma makes me wear heels to church. So I’ll probably be feeling your pain too much to laugh.”

“Thanks.” I smiled.

“Good luck getting to school without breaking an ankle,” she added with a snicker before ending the call.

I tossed my phone onto the bed while eyeing the remaining shoe boxes. I probably didn’t even want to know what was in them.

Then again, I’d have to find out sooner or later.

Taking a deep breath for courage, I quickly bent over and flicked the lids off the rest of the boxes. And then I sighed.

Dad had gotten me ballet flats. Lots and lots of ballet flats in all kinds of colors and fabrics. And they were
cute
.

I sat down, pulled on a pair and had to bite my lower lip to hold back the urge to squee. Okay, now these just might make wearing the rest of the new stuff bearable.

Then I glanced up and saw the collection of notes, each stuffed within a clear sheet protector, which hung from a metal ring attached to the knob of my closet door. A quick flip through them showed countless suggested outfits, complete with recommended shoe and jewelry options, enough for at least a month. He’d even taken pictures of each outfit laid out on my bed so I couldn’t get confused.

“Geez,” I muttered, unsure whether to be alarmed or grateful.

Would I get this anally retentive when I was three hundred years old?

* * *

The next morning, I tried not to look in the mirror too closely as I got ready for school. I didn’t want to dwell on how different I looked and whether anyone at school would get weirded out about it. I was nervous enough as it was.

Please don’t let me run into Tristan
, part of me prayed with every breath I inhaled.

And on the exhale of every breath, another part of me yearned for just one glimpse of him, just one more time to hear his voice, his laugh, or see his smile…

Dad was waiting by the front door as I came down the stairs.

“I see you found my notes.” He nodded in approval as he assessed my outfit.

I bit the tip of my tongue to keep from telling him just what I thought of his “notes.” When I thought of a more diplomatic reply, I said, “Thanks for the ballet flats. I really like them.”’

“And the rest of it?”

I went through three or four possible responses and chose the nicest of them. “I’m sure I’ll learn to get used to them.” I tacked on a teeth-baring attempt at a smile.

At least none of the new stuff was too wild or crazy or slutty.

His lips twitched.

“I want you to keep this with you at all times.” He held out what looked like a short, fat black-and-gold pen. “Click it and it is a pen. Turn the clip sideways and it is an emergency stash of blood.”