Rachel Hawkins: Rebel Belle

Now it was Saylor’s words looping through my mind. That much power, it will burn him up and eat him alive until he’s not David anymore.

I’d spent the past seventeen years thinking David was annoying and mean, but he wasn’t. He was smart, and dedicated, and loyal, and completely him. The thought of his powers turning him into someone else, of killing him, hurt too much to even think about.

But I wouldn’t let that happen. I knew what Saylor had said, but, hey, I was a Paladin. My job was to protect the Oracle and I’d do that, even if it meant protecting him from himself.

“Anyway,” David said, closing the laptop and wheeling his chair over to me, “as for what comes next, Saylor had some kind of in case of emergency spell set up. As far as I can tell, everyone in town thinks she’s gone on some kind of extended vacation, and I’m totally fine here by myself.”

He didn’t sound totally fine, and I took his hand again. “I miss her, too.”

David just nodded, pressing his lips together, and I squeezed his fingers. “I don’t like the idea of you in that house by yourself.”

“It’ll be okay,” he said. He was wearing a ketchup-red sweater and houndstooth pants. When I glanced down, I saw that, sure enough, he had on one brown sock and one black. He could not have looked any less like someone who would be okay on his own.

I stepped closer, our joined hands between us. “Are you saying that in your usual patronizing sense, or in the ‘I can see the future and know how this all turns out’ way?”

He grinned at me. “It was definitely more the former than the latter. The whole vision thing . . .” The grin faded. “It’s like Saylor said. It needs three of us for me to see clearly. And without Ryan, we’re kinda screwed.”

“Funny, because Ryan himself is feeling kind of screwed by all of this.”

David and I both turned. Ryan stood there in the doorway, chin lifted. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, and I think his hair may actually have been worse than David’s, but he still could have been posing for a cologne ad.

“You’re here,” I said, wondering if the relief I felt was because we had our third part, or just because it was Ryan. Ryan, who may not have been the guy I got all fluttery for, but who had been a rock for me for such a long time.

He gave an easy shrug. “I’m here.” Stepping into the classroom, he gave us both a wary glance before closing the door.

“So.”

“So,” David and I echoed in unison.

“The three of us, working together to save the world. Me, my ex-girlfriend, and the guy she dumped me for.” His mouth twisted into a half smile. “This has to be the most screwed-up situation three teenagers have ever found themselves in.”

“I think I saw an episode of Gossip Girl like that once,” I offered, and while both boys chuckled, their hearts clearly weren’t in it.

“We can do this,” I told them, using my SGA president voice. “Is it awkward? Sure. Will it require sacrifice and hard work and probably get even more awkward ?”

“No doubt,” David said, just as Ryan muttered, “Yup.”

“But . . . I believe in you guys. And I hope you believe in me. So.” I took a deep breath and held out my hands. “Why don’t we see what’s coming for us next?”

The school was still quiet. Teachers wouldn’t start arriving for another half hour, and the janitor who had replaced Mr. Hall was on the other side of the building.

Ryan took my hand and then, with a little more hesitation, took David’s. “What’s going to happen?” he asked. “Are we all going to stand in a circle and sing ‘Kumbaya’?”

David held my eyes for a long moment before rising to his feet. “Not quite,” he replied.

And then he placed his palm in mine.

HUGE THANKS to Jennifer Besser for loving this weird little book first, and to my agent, Holly Root, for not blinking an eye when I said the words “it’s like Legally Blonde meets The Terminator !”

I’m also massively grateful to Ginny Bakkan, Hunter Chapman, Ashley Parsons, Andrea Poole, and Rachel Waters for sharing everything they knew about debutante balls with me. Sorry I took your memories and covered them in Hawaiian Punch and violence, but such is the risk of being friends with a writer! Thanks too to Jennifer Sauls for coming up with the perfect tagline!

Thank you as always to my mom, who signed me up to be an Azalea Trail girl when I was six and had a special dress made just for the day (even if a fever kept me being an Azalea Trail girl in what I like to refer to as the Most Tragic Thing That Ever Happened to Me). Mama, no one is as rebellious and belle-a-licious as you, and I love you.

Hugs and snuggles and kisses to John and Will for being the best little family a girl could have, and for understanding when I locked myself in the dining room during our vacation to Scotland so that I could finish this book. There are not many men who would be patient when a visit to the Loch Ness Monster is on the line, but y’all didn’t complain once.

And lastly, huge, obscene, downright embarrassing amounts of gratitude to my editor, Arianne Lewin, who helped me knock this book down to its foundations and rebuild something much more befitting a Queen Bee like Harper. You may be a New Yorker, but you will always be an honorary belle to me, and I am so, so thankful that I get to work with you!