Thrall

Copyright © 2012 by Jennifer Quintenz.

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

First Edition: May 2012.

Secret Tree Press
www.SecretTreePress.com

Published in the United States of America.

Find out more about the author and upcoming books online at www.JenniferQuintenz.com or @jennq.

The night of the dance was crisp and clear, one of those desert nights when the world seemed to be holding its breath. Fall was giving way to winter and there was an edge to the breeze. It kept most of us inside, which was a shame because the sky was perfectly cloudless. Coronado Prep was perched on the outskirts of town, far enough away from the city lights that anyone who looked up could have traced the dusting of the Milky Way across the inky expanse of space. Not that any of us were stargazing. It was Homecoming; there was more than enough glitter for us inside.

The gym had been transformed from the open and airy space we knew. Rich velvet curtains cascaded down the bleachers and lights ringed the dance floor, giving the whole place a funky elegance. Someone flipped on a black light and a flood of bubbles swirled into the air, glowing weirdly over the crowd. Dancers screamed in exhilaration. Strobe lights kicked on, turning everyone into silhouettes, making us anonymous in an instant. No more jocks, no more prima donnas, no more losers. In that moment, we were one. The feeling was intoxicating.

I spend a lot of time in high school trying to blend into the background. It isn’t usually hard. People look past me like my skin is some kind of social camouflage. Except for my two best friends, Royal and Cassie. They see me. Most of the time, that’s all I need.

But tonight, lost in the crowd, I felt like I was part of something bigger. The thrumming music seemed to drive away the differences between us, and all that was left was this primal, pulsing crowd. Yes, I knew everything would go back to normal soon. That doesn’t mean I wanted it to end.

We were dancing when the power cut out, plunging our insulated world into darkness. I couldn’t make out anything in the gloom, except for the pools of light cast by the emergency exit signs. The sudden absence of sound left a ringing in my ears.

Headmaster Fiedler’s voice cut through the silence. “Just a second, folks. We’ve got someone checking the breakers.”

There were a few groans, and then someone moaned out a goofy
ooooooooo!
A nervous titter passed through the crowd. Someone else made a loud raspberry, earning a few more snickers.

“Lovely.” Royal’s tone was dry. “I was just thinking what I really wanted tonight was to be trapped in a dark room with the cast of ‘Lowest Common Denominator: The Teenage Years.’”

Cassie and I weren’t the only ones who laughed at this, but that sense of belonging I’d had was already starting to evaporate. The power came back on, and the dance floor was once again bathed in swirling colored lights. People stood, breathing hard, aware of the sheen of sweat beading across their faces. A few of us glanced around self-consciously – it felt weird to just be standing on the dance floor. I curled my hands around my bare arms reflexively. I felt conspicuous standing in this strapless dress. Just like I’d known I would. The random growth spurt I’d hit a few years ago had left me tall and lanky and paranoid about my bony shoulders. Definitely not something I was keen to show off, no matter how pretty the satiny, pearl-gray material of this dress was. Royal and Cassie had worked hard to talk me into buying it. For the hundredth time that night, I wish I’d had the extra forty bucks to buy the matching shrug.

“All right!” The D.J. called over his microphone, voice a little too bright. “Let’s kick it up a notch!” Another song poured out of the speakers; his attempt to electrify the crowd. Dancing erupted around us, but I wasn’t in the mood anymore. The onslaught of noise felt suddenly overwhelming.

“I think I’m going to sit this one out.”

Cassie breathed out a sigh of relief. “Seconded.”

Royal shook his head, resigned. “You can lead the ladies to the dance, but you cannot make them rock.”

“Says the one of us who hasn’t been wearing high heels for the last four hours,” I said.

Royal shrugged. “Blame the shoes if you must. And for the record, I don’t care what you think. You look dazzling.” When I opened my mouth to argue, Royal laid a finger across my lips. “Don’t speak.” I couldn’t help it; I smiled.

Cassie noticed a kid walking by with a cupcake in hand. “I’m so hungry I could pass out.”

We pushed out of the crowd and found the refreshment table. Cassie zeroed in on a chocolate cupcake, grinning like a mischievous pixie - her smile was infectious. Her long black hair, done up in spiky knots for the dance, framed her face like a punk-rock crown and her dark eyes sparkled. Cassie’s parents had moved here from China right before she was born. She had inherited her mom’s willowy figure and her dad’s artistic talent, but the genuine sweetness that made her seem almost naïve - that was one hundred percent Cassie. Under the shifting lights, the material of her dress shimmered between green and purple. She called her style ‘fashion forward’ - she’d designed and sewn the dress herself. If I’d tried something like that, I would have been walking around in a glorified toga. Cassie was a magician with her needle and thread. Not that she got to flaunt her skills very often. We wore gray and burgundy uniforms everyday at school.

Next to her dress, Royal’s deep crimson jacket seemed almost subdued. He looked like he owned the place, but he would look that way in jeans and a t-shirt. Royal had grown up with a kind of bulletproof self-confidence which I envied daily. He was shorter than me by an inch or two, and rail-thin with a jaw that could have been sculpted by one of the old masters. He regarded the world through dark brown eyes that could be warm or inscrutable, depending on his mood, but they always gleamed with sharp intelligence. His brown hair somehow managed to look perfectly tousled at any time of day. Objectively, Cassie and I could see that Royal was good-looking. But we never saw him
that
way, even before we knew he was gay. He was Royal. He’d always been one of us.

Royal caught Cassie’s hand and twirled her around, making her laugh. They looked so vibrant. Next to them I felt bland. I was quite possibly the only student at Coronado Prep who actually preferred uniforms to street clothes. Considering that, it made sense that one of the few times a year we got to wear practically anything we wanted to school, I’d ended up in a gray dress. I hugged myself again, longing for that shrug.

Royal noticed the movement while picking up a chocolate frosted cupcake. “Cold?”

“No.” Quickly turning my attention to the table, I selected a promising cupcake with white frosting. I had to set down the delicate silver clutch Cassie had made me to peel back the cupcake’s foil wrapper. My hopes were rewarded. Red velvet. I eyed the side door. It was propped open, inviting. “Actually, I could use some fresh air.”

As we walked across the gym, Royal turned to me. “We still have to finish The Birthday Conversation. Don’t think you’re getting off that easy.”

“What’s wrong with samurai movies, pizza, and Red Vines?”

Royal glanced at Cassie. “Do you want to field this one, or shall I?”

“Braedyn. It’s your sixteenth birthday,” Cassie said, looking exasperated.

I felt an inward sigh but smiled. “It’s not for another month, guys.” Before Royal and Cassie had brought it up, I’d planned to spend my birthday like I’d spent the last three or four: hanging out with them at my house. But they’d gotten it into their heads that I needed something bigger this year.

Cassie reached for Royal, eager for backup. “Which gives us plenty of time to plan something spectacular. What about the Raven? If there’s ever a time for a big party, this is it.”

“You do realize that my dad is never going to let us go to a club?”

“People can surprise you,” Cassie said.

We walked through the door and into the late September night. I stopped in my tracks. Three couples were hanging out on the wide side steps of the gym, sneaking sips from metal flasks, looking bored. The glitterati of Coronado Prep. One girl had her arms twined around a guy, kissing him against the side of the building. My stomach twisted unpleasantly. Amber Jenkins. The iron-straight curtains of her perfect sun-bleached blond hair gleamed like ice in the moonlight.

Amber had turned middle school into a custom-made nightmare for me. As an awkward, gangly kid with frizzy hair and braces, I’d been an easy target for Amber and her genetically blessed posse to hone in on. Isn’t there some team-building exercise where you unite a group by focusing their energy on a common goal? Tormenting me became their pet project. Middle school was the reason I’d cultivated the ability to blend into the background. Since then my braces had come off, I’d figured out a few tricks to tame the chaos of my hair, and everyone else was catching up height-wise. But while Amber hadn’t acknowledged me since we started high school, the memories were still fresh enough that I didn’t want to draw her attention. I turned, flustered, and stumbled into Royal.

Someone snickered, and Amber’s cold eyes flicked over to us. “Enjoying the show?” I’d always thought her thin, straight nose gave her face a pinched look when she frowned, but the rest of the student body seemed to worship her. Eager to flee this scene, I turned to re-enter the gym. Cassie caught my eye, just as ready to get away from them as I was.

But before we could retreat into the gym, another student appeared in the door behind us, blocking our escape. He nodded a greeting to Amber. “Hey, Amber. Fiedler asked me to tell you they’re starting in five minutes.”

“Right,” Amber said.

The boy she’d been kissing glanced at his watch. Derek Hall was the celebrated captain of the Coronado Prep soccer team. He had dark gray eyes and short, pale blond hair that looked even paler against his soccer tan. “How much longer are we stuck here?” He leaned his forehead against Amber’s, smiling into her eyes. “I want to get to the after-party.”

Amber traced a finger down his chest and pushed him away coyly. “After the ceremony.” She glanced over her shoulder, at the other two girls in her group. “Time to turn it on, ladies.” Missy and Ally fell into step with Amber as usual, following her back to the gym door. Missy, a cute and curvy strawberry-blonde, followed Amber through the door and flashed me a quick smile. I think Missy and I could have been friends in a different life. Ally, not so much. She fished a mirror out of her clutch and ran manicured nails carefully through her hair, shouldering me roughly aside as she passed.

Royal steadied me with a hand. “Do not let those jockubines into your head,” he said.

“Dude. That’s my girlfriend you’re insulting.” I saw a flicker of interest penetrate Derek’s boredom.