Page 59 of Switching Graves

Whitlock shakes the hand off with a scowl, and Dean Hatchcroft’s face falls at the harsh rejection. His round eyes pass over me, lingering just a moment too long before I drop my gaze to the table, subtly shaking my head enough to let my hair fall over my face. My fingers fidget with the drink Professor Whitlock placed in front of me as I send mental daggers at him for even being here, attracting the one man I’ve been avoiding all semester.

If he realizes I’m not Poppy, all of this will come crashing down.

Hatchcroft clears his throat. “Sorry to interrupt, miss . . . ”

“Ellery,” Whitlock finishes, and I lift my eyes to find a wolfish smile spread across his lips. That bastard knows exactly whathe’s doing, and I hate the fact that I still can’t figure out how he’s caught on to our lie so quickly.

“Ah, yes. Divina’s girl,” Dean Hatchcroft says excitedly, shoving his hand in front of me. His eyes unapologetically stray to the plunging neck of my gown, and then stay there. “It’s nice to finally put a face to the name. Well, part of a face.” He gestures toward the mask I forgot I was wearing and chuckles. “Your mother has been working hard to ensure your time here is enjoyable.”

Pushing past the panic lacing through my chest, I force a smile and take his hand. “Please, call me Poppy. And I’m sure my mother has been a dream.”

He laughs again, then makes a comment to Richard that I miss because I’m too busy wishing my professor’s head would spontaneously combust. Whitlock eyes me for a moment, his gaze much more violent than before. Though, his anger seems directed at the dean, instead of me for once.

I’m sure he’s going to make another attempt at making my life hell when, by some small mercy, he turns to the two men and says, “I’d love to talk about the project, Richard. Let’s grab a table where it’s quieter.”

The two men agree and bid a quick farewell before they turn away from me. Before he leaves, Professor Whitlock leans in closer, so he can speak directly in my ear.

“Be careful, Little Nightmare. You’re being hunted as we speak,” he warns, then pulls back, subtly flicking his gaze to the mezzanine across the ballroom.

I turn my head to follow his line of sight, but don’t see anyone looking in our direction. When I go to ask what he means, he’s already a few paces away with his back toward me.

31

Sonny

After Professor Whitlock’s cryptic warning, I kept close to the shadows and tried my best to blend in with larger groups for the remainder of the night, hopeful of finding my mysterious date before they found me.

The tense atmosphere of the room slowly faded away as dates were revealed and paired off. At the same time, the slow, ambient music transitioned into more upbeat songs as groups of friends began bouncing around together. Faculty and members of the council started filtering out to let the younger people have fun.

I observe from the sidelines nursing a cocktail, the way I always tend to do at social functions. I want so badly to be like Poppy and charge headfirst into the action without a care in the world. To walk right up to a member of the board and strike up a conversation, leaving a lasting impression that will help me in the future. That was one of the biggest reasons for coming tonight.

Poppy would thrive here. She could always turn on this proverbial switch and have people gravitating toward her without ever realizing it. Everything about her is infectious, while I remain overlooked.

I used to attribute that to a difference in personality, but I’m quickly learning that was how her gifts were manifesting all along. Standing in the background is natural to me, because that’s how I can use my own gifts most effectively.

It’s hard to be someone you’re not, and far too easy to crumble under the weight of social anxiety. Everyone knows each other so well. It’s like there’s an impenetrable wall built around them to keep outsiders away.

I’m a pathetic, antisocial pariah.

“Finally,” a familiar voice calls from my left, where the doors to the bathrooms sit.

Hayes rounds the table beside mine and stumbles before me, a large smile splitting his face in half. Two guys walk up behind him, but quickly get distracted and head toward the dance floor with drinks in hand.

“Hey,” I greet, my voice shockingly cheerful at the prospect of finally finding someone I know. “I had no idea you’d be here.”

“If I didn’t come, I wouldn’t have been able to hunt my date.” Flashing his teeth, he wiggles his eyebrows playfully and splays his fingers toward me in a dramatic presentation.

“Wait . . .you’rethe one who sent the invite?”

Quickly nodding, his real smile grows again. “You didn’t know? I thought for sure that you all had figured it out, since my dad is on the board. It was pretty fun to hear all your theories.”

His dad is on the board.

I can’t form words, so I just stand there with my jaw slack and eyes bulging. How many conversations did we have in front of him over the past two weeks, planning for tonight?

Shit, how many embarrassing, negative things did I say about the event when I thought it was safe?

Hayes continues talking, completely unbothered by my silence. “You couldn’t pay me to be here otherwise. It’s like a high school reunion.”

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