“Uh huh,” Mina answered, slightly intimidated by the elegant girls in front of her.
“What about the other girl? What’s her name?” Daphne asked, tapping her lip with a perfectly manicured nail.
“Nan. Yes, we both attend classes with Brody.” She automatically thought of her own best friend.
“No, not her.” Daphne rolled her eyes, flipped a magazine open and pointed to an old photo of Brody and Savannah. “Is she still with Brody?”
“Savannah? No, they aren’t together anymore.” Mina wanted to claw the snarky Daphne for that jab.
Lara and Daphne started to pick up their notebooks, magazines, and seating charts for the ball.
“So are you coming to the ball?” Lara asked casually. Almost too casually.
“Why, yes, I promised Brody I would.” This was starting to sound familiar.
“Really?” Daphne swung her cross-bag over her shoulder. She eyed Mina’s clothes and ripped jeans. “As a server? I know the club was a bit short-handed for the event.”
“No. As his date,” she said between clenched teeth.
Brody returned with two glasses of iced tea. Daphne reached for one, but Brody turned and handed it to Mina instead. The gesture was so unexpected, she almost let the glass slip through her fingers. Thankfully, she caught it, as well as the look of hatred that shot her way. Brody took a long swig of his own glass of iced tea.
Right then, the old grandfather clock in the corner started to chime, and it didn’t ring the two tones it should have. It continued—another ten chimes.
Lara’s face scrunched up in confusion, “Twelve?”
“I think your clock’s broken,” Daphne snorted.
“It’s not broken. At least it shouldn’t be.” Brody walked over to the clock, opened the glass door, and looked inside for the key to wind it. He inserted it into the face of the clock, gave it a few twists and turns, and gently moved the hands around the face until it showed two o’clock.
Immediately, the clock started to chime again. Everyone waited, silently counting two deep, resonant chimes.
There was almost an audible exhale as no other noise came from the clock.
“See, it’s not broke,” Brody turned and smiled.
“I guess not.” Mina smiled wanly, but she kept her eyes on the clock because what she knew was coming next. She’d been on high alert as soon as she heard the girls’ names. Steppes and Ziester? How close could the Story get to “stepsister”?
The slight tingling began, indicating the Story was near. Mina couldn’t take her eyes off of the clock, watching as Brody hung the key up and closed the glass door. As soon as it clicked shut, the clock continued its haunting chime.
Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve.
And this time, when the clock struck twelve, the bay windows blew open, and the curtains flew horizontally into the room.
Lara and Daphne shrieked as the pages in the open magazine on the table began to flip.
Brody rushed across the room and tackled the opened windows. Once he got them shut, the wind died down. The magazine settled on a two-page spread of Brody wearing a white mask with the caption in bold Times New Roman:
Brody Carmichael—A real, live Prince Charming.
Mina launched to her feet, knocking her knee into the corner of the coffee table. “Ouch! Excuse me, but I have to go.”
“Where are you off to so early?” Daphne called out. “Is your coach going to turn into a pumpkin?”
“Don’t be silly, Daphne. She probably just has to catch a bus.”
“Girls, enough.” Brody said heatedly.
Both Daphne and Lara turned pouty looks toward him.
Brody leapt after her. “Mina, are you feeling okay?”