Jenna Black: Girls' Night Out

But she had pretended, and it did hurt, even though I didn’t want to be friends with her anyway.

“Please, Dana—”

“Absolutely not!” I shoved the remains of my sandwich back into the paper bag, sure an angry flush was creeping up my neck. “It’s way too dangerous. If I took you into the mortal world and you got more than about five feet away from me, you’d be dead.” So it was an exaggeration, and she could actually get about fifteen yards from me without dying. Sue me. I thought it might discourage Al from asking anymore.

“So I’d have to stay close. I could do that.”

I had so many objections to this idea I couldn’t even begin to voice them all.

But one of those objections rose above the rest, clamoring the loudest. “I may not be an official member of the Seelie Court,” I said, because although my father was Seelie, I’d categorically refused to pledge my allegiance, “but if I were to take an Unseelie princess out into the mortal world and something went wrong, it could very easily start a war between the Courts.” Faerie wars had been started for far less cause, and had devastating effects not just on the Fae, but on the mortals unlucky enough to get caught in the middle. “I’m not about to risk that, and there’s nothing you can say to change my mind.”

I leapt to my feet, no longer caring about being polite, so pissed off I was practically vibrating with it. I doubted Al was an idiot. She had to know how risky her suggestion was, and not just to her personally. And yet she was willing to risk something that could start a war just so she could confront a boyfriend who refused to answer the phone when she called. The selfishness of it blew me away.

“Wait!” Al cried, jumping to her feet also and grabbing my arm to keep me from storming off.

Our sudden movement had startled the flock of pigeons who’d been

feasting on Al’s sandwich, and we were both buffeted by the gusts of air from their wings. I hoped one of them crapped on Al’s glamour-enhanced hair.

“Let go,” I growled. “I have to go home now.” Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Finn watching our interaction closely, but he didn’t come any closer. I silently thanked him for letting me handle things. From the look on his face, I suspected Al’s bodyguard would have flattened me if I’d grabbed her like she was grabbing me.

“I’m so sorry!” Al said, still holding my arm. Her blue eyes glimmered with tears as she looked at me beseechingly. “I’ve made a total hash of everything.” One of those tears leaked down her cheek, and she made no move to wipe it away. “I shouldn’t have asked that of you. I just . . .” She sniffled, finally letting go of me and staring down at the ground, the picture of repentance. “I just wanted to see Gary, to make sure he was all right. It was stupid, and I’m sorry I asked.”

She looked so sad I might have believed her, if I didn’t keep getting stuck on the suspicion that the only reason she’d approached me in the first place was because she meant to ask this very favor.

“Please forgive me,” she said, sucking her lower lip with its piercing into her mouth and making a pouty face.

I’m really not that much of a forgiving type—just ask my mom—but

something about Al kept stirring me to reluctant sympathy. I didn’t really believe she deserved to be forgiven, but I let out a sigh anyway.

“Okay,” I said. “I forgive you.”

Her face lit up, the tears vanishing so quickly I wondered if they’d been nothing more than a glamour-induced illusion. “Thank you!” she gushed, then hugged me so tight I feared my ribs would crack. Her magic surged over me even more strongly, stealing my breath.

I pulled away from the hug as soon as I could. Al was still beaming at me.

“On Friday, you’re letting me buy you lunch,” she informed me. “Just to make up for me being such a bitch today.”

Words stuck in my throat. I had zero desire to have lunch with her Friday, or any other day, for that matter. “That’s really not necessary,” I choked out.

“Of course it is,” she said firmly. “It’ll be fun. You’ll see. Maybe we can go do a little shopping together afterward. I haven’t been shopping for three months, and that’s tragic, don’t you agree?”

“Uh—”

“I’ll see you on Friday!” she said, not waiting for my agreement. She did that lip-sucking thing again, making me wonder if the ball in her lip was actually a real piercing rather than a glamour.

“See you Friday,” I heard myself saying lamely, feeling like I’d just been run over by a speeding truck.

There was a bounce in her step as Al headed down the quad, waving at me and ignoring her bodyguard as he fell into step a little behind her. Feeling vaguely sick to my stomach, I waved back at her and wondered if maybe, just to avoid her, I should just drop the damn class.

By the time Friday rolled around, I had prepared an Al-avoidance strategy, aided by Ethan, to get myself out of another uncomfortable lunch. When I told him I’d met the Unseelie Queen’s daughter, he made no attempt to hide his dislike of her.

“She’s a manipulative, two-faced bitch,” he told me. I imagined he was scowling darkly, but since we were talking on the phone, I didn’t know for sure.

“Tell me how you really feel,” I teased, although the vehemence of his reaction made me uneasy. Ethan had been quite the player before he met me, dating and discarding pretty girls at will. He’d grown up a hell of a lot since I’d first met him, but I couldn’t help wondering if he had some kind of romantic history with Al. They were both Unseelie, after all.

“Keep your distance from her, Dana,” Ethan warned. “She’s toxic.”

“I was thinking maybe you could help me with that . . .”

Ethan and I decided we had a lunch date on Friday, one I’d forgotten about when Al had made her invitation. (An invitation I had never actually accepted, I might add.) Likely we’d have to make this a standing date so I always had an excuse not to go to lunch with Al, but I didn’t exactly mind getting to eat lunch with Ethan three times a week.

Having my defense in place, I hoped I’d be able to ignore Al as much as possible and actually learn something during class. But I’d allowed myself to forget how distracting the buzz of her glamour was. Hard as I tried to focus on the professor’s lecture, I just couldn’t concentrate. I hoped that my refusal to go to lunch with her would inspire her to go find someone else to sit with when Monday rolled around.

It turned out, however, that getting rid of Al wasn’t as easy as I thought.

When class was over, I told her in my most apologetic tones that I’d forgotten I was having lunch with Ethan, prepared for her to get pissy with me about it, because she didn’t strike me as someone used to taking no for an answer. What I wasn’t prepared for was her total inability—or unwillingness—to take a hint.

“Oh, that’s okay,” she said breezily when I told her about my lunch with Ethan. “Three’s company, right? Where are we meeting him?”

I mentally examined my words, wondering if I’d somehow managed to

convey an invitation without meaning to, but I was certain my implication had been clear. I clenched my teeth to contain a groan of frustration. Obviously, subtlety was not my friend when dealing with Al. If I wanted her to go to lunch on her own, or with someone else, I was going to have to say so straight out.

I almost did it. Almost blurted out the truth, that I didn’t want her coming with me. I’m capable of being both blunt and rude, when circumstances require it.

But I wasn’t sure open rudeness to Mab’s daughter was the best idea in the world, and I wasn’t a hundred percent certain she deserved it. Sure, she was a bit socially awkward, and she’d only befriended me because she wanted something from me.