Empire High Betrayal (Empire High #3) - Ivy Smoak Page 0,64
“Maybe add some layers?”
“That’s a great idea,” Kennedy said. “It’ll give your hair more volume. And I’ve always wanted to try highlights.”
“This is going to be so fun,” Mrs. Caldwell said. “Let me go check in with the hairdresser. I hope she brought those books of hairstyles. I always love flipping through those.”
“Does she not know that her sons are at war with the Hunters?” Kennedy asked.
“No. Matt and Mason think that by not mentioning Rob and James that they’ll just disappear. As if erasing a lifetime of friendship just happens. Especially because their parents are friends. I think.” I didn’t really know that for a fact. But they were neighbors. Where I grew up, all neighbors were friends. So, it was probably true.
“So Isabella and the Hunters are coming to this party,” Kennedy said. “This is going to be kind of amazing.”
I laughed. “It’s like a ticking time bomb.”
“As long as I’m not the one that explodes, I’m happy to watch all of it unfold.”
My phone buzzed.
“You talk to your man,” Kennedy said. “And make sure you try these on.” She shoved the black leather leggings into my arms. “They’re going to be perfect for your costume. I’m gonna go ask the hairdresser to make me look like J-Lo.”
I laughed and pulled out my phone. But it wasn’t Matt. The text was from an unknown number: “Hey, Brooklyn. Can we talk? I can meet you out back by the pool. See you in an hour?”
I looked up at Mrs. Caldwell and Kennedy laughing. I didn’t have time for Rob’s shenanigans right now. He’d been texting me from a different number every night this week, trying to trick me into weird meetings with him. Usually the texts were funnier than this. But I still knew it was him.
I typed out a quick text. “I’m not home, Rob.”
My phone buzzed right away. “It’s not Rob. It’s James.”
I was used to the funny texts from Rob. But now that I knew it was James? It didn’t seem so light anymore. What did James want to talk about? He didn’t mention Operation Disappearing Troll. Was it about something else? I bit the inside of my lip. It didn’t matter. I promised Matt. “I’m still not home,” I wrote back.
He texted back right away. “But I like being miserable with you.”
My stomach twisted into knots. Matt said he didn’t care about James’ wellbeing anymore. But he did. I knew he did. And he’d want to make sure that James was okay, even if they were fighting.
“Are you okay?” I texted.
“No. I’m miserable. And it’s loud here.”
“Where are you?”
“I don’t know. Some club.”
A club? That meant he was drinking. Or worse. “What club? Where?”
“Are you coming?”
“James, tell me where you are.”
“I like when you’re bossy. Come make me feel better.”
Yeah, he was definitely drunk. Or high. Or something. I had no idea what his current elixir of choice was. “James, give me the address.”
“Call me and I’ll give it to you,” he texted back.
Damn it. “Fine. One second.”
I walked over to Mrs. Caldwell and Kennedy. They were flipping through books of different hairstyles. I hung the Sandy leggings on the back of one of the chairs.
“I need to make a call real quick,” I said. “I’ll be right back.”
“Wait,” Kennedy said. “What do you think of something like this?” She flipped around the hairstyle book she was holding. The model in the picture had these beautiful chestnut highlights in her hair.
“That would look amazing on you,” I said.
“Yeah?”
“Absolutely,” Mrs. Caldwell said. Then she turned to me. “Don’t go too far, sweetheart. Not past security, alright?”
“Mhm.” I made my way out of the private room. The grand entrance was completely empty. I pressed on James’ number.
“Hey,” he said. But I could barely hear him over the music blaring in the background.
“James, where are you?”
“Where are you?”
I shook my head. “I’m out.”
“Are you with Matt?”
“No. I’m out with his mom. Tell me where you are.”
“I like Mrs. Caldwell,” he said. “She’s nicer than my mom. Everything Matt has is better than what I have.”
Oh, James. “Can you please tell me where you are?”
“What are you and Mrs. Caldwell out doing?” he asked, ignoring me.
“We’re getting makeovers.”
The music got a little quieter, like he’d shut himself in a bathroom or something. “You don’t need a makeover, Brooklyn. You’re perfect just the way you are.”
I bit the inside of my lip. He wasn’t supposed to be saying stuff like that to me. “James…”