24.Feeling List-less
I’M SORRY?” I ANSWER, CERTAINthat I’ve heard him wrong.
“Hide me!” he repeats, even more insistently. “Themis just sent a message for all the hall managers to be on the lookout for ‘whoever absconded with’ the leftover fireworks from the opening ceremony.”
“So what you’re saying is she wants you to be on the lookout for yourself?” Charlie asks as she reaches over and snatches three of the boxes out of his hand.
“Thief!” Levi is all drama as he clutches his chest and leans over the back of the chair. “Help me, Ellie! Call the authorities! Round up the guards! I’ve been robbed by my own sister!”
“Of the fireworks you originally stole from the school?”I ask doubtfully. “I’m not really sure that’s the kind of thing you want to report to anyone in authority.”
“Et tu Brute?” he squawks, slamming his hand into his chest like I’ve just stabbed him with my words. Of course, his act might be more convincing if he wasn’t currently carrying a dozen boxes of the ill-gotten fireworks under discussion at the moment.
“She’s just calling it like she sees it,” Leah defends me as she, too, reaches over and grabs a couple of boxes.
“I said hide me, not steal from me,” he grouses. “And I will have you know I hadnothingto do with the theft of the leftover sparklersorthe leftover Roman candles.”
My brows shoot up at the blatant lie. “I hate to break it to you, but evidence in your possession shows otherwise.”
“No, no, no, my dear Ellie. The evidence in my possession—if interpreted correctly—shows that I bought these fireworks on the school’s black market from a party who may or may not be responsible for the theft of said fireworks. And since I dropped twenty bucks on them, I want to make sure they don’t get confiscated.”
“Then you should probably stop waving them around,” I suggest dryly.
“Who’s waving them around?” He sinks lower in the chair. “I’m hiding behind you until Dione finishes with her rounds—or at least I would be if you would stop moving. She’s looking over here, you know.”
I freeze immediately. Not because I want to have anythingto do with helping Levi hide the embargoed fireworks, but because I don’t want to get caught anywhere near them. “Is she really looking?”
“Totally,” he says. “In fact, I think she’s coming this way. Maybe if you stood on your tiptoes—”
“Stop harassing my roommate,” Fifi grumbles as she comes up behind me and plops two of the largest, wildest-looking sundaes I have ever seen on the table in front of me. “She doesn’t know you well enough to know when you’re messing around.”
“Is he messing around?” I ask, still afraid to look behind me in case Dr. Dione really is headed this way. “Are the fireworks not stolen?”
“Oh, they were absolutely stolen,” he says, then laughs as Fifi narrows her eyes at him. “By Dr. Dione herself. She told me to make sure every first year got a box.”
He holds one of the Roman candle boxes out to me. “These are for you.”
“I don’t think I want them,” I answer, eyeing the box with trepidation.
“Right? We’ve got better things to do than play with sparklers,” Fifi agrees as she thrusts one of the sundaes at me. “Here, I made this for you. I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I put everything on it.”
“Actually, I just had dinner—”
“Which means this is a perfect time for dessert.”
“But—” I break off as Fifi shoves a spoon loaded with ice cream in my mouth.
“See? Delicious, isn’t it?” She takes a bite from her own sundae. “You’ve got to learn to live a little, Ellie.”
“I’m trying to,” I answer quietly, because her words sting a bit, though I know she wasn’t trying to be mean. It’s just, Paris always tells me the same thing, that I need to stop worrying and live a little. Of course, he’s not the one who gets blamed when things go bad. I’m the one Mom and Dad punish first, even if he’s the one who did something wrong.
But she’s right, the sundae is delicious. And once I remember she went out of her way to make it for me, it’s easy to let go of the little hurt her words caused—especially since she can’t be expected to know all my sensitive spots. We did just meet a few hours ago, though already it feels like so much longer.
As I shovel another bite of ice cream into my mouth, Levi drops the box of fireworks on the table in front of me. I start to tell him I really don’t want them—eating this entire sundae is plenty of living for me, thank you very much—but then he says, “The real reason I came over here is because Fifi says you want to talk to me about something. What’s up?”
Everyone’s eyes turn toward me, and I nearly choke on the bite of frozen candy bar I’m in the middle of swallowing. But this is exactly the opening I’ve been waiting for, so I tell him about the labors and wait, breath held, to hear his advice.
“Can I see your list?” he asks, brows raised. “I mean, how different could it possibly be?”
