Old Magic(17)

I try to remember to breathe.

‘Of course, Jessica Palmer didn’t get a say. She knows her place.’

I try to absorb it all; the image of Pecs in the form of a thick-set furry animal on all fours at Tasha’s feet almost makes me laugh. It goes to show who really rules around here. The feminists would be pleased. I guess Jarrod is too. The part about him and Tasha, though not surprising, devastates me anyway. It’s something he’s longed for – to be accepted. I sensed it on his first day, the need burning deeply inside him to be part of a group. He sure hit the jackpot with this lot, they are the most popular group in school. He’s really winning.

We sit in a distant corner, furthest booth from the door. We don’t come here a lot, but when we do, this booth is my favourite, semi-concealed behind the jutting corner of the cafe counter, nearest the kitchen – out of eyeshot unless you’re looking.

I guess I know where Jarrod is now – out with Tasha Daniels. They’re probably taking in a movie first. I cringe at the thought of him watching that witch-burning rubbish they’re showing this weekend.

They walk in about half an hour later, Tasha swaying her skinny hips as she dances around the tables. She looks stylish and leggy, her long blonde hair bouncing around her slender shoulders as she flicks a look back occasionally, making sure Jarrod is right behind her. He may as well be wearing a collar and chain.

I try not to stare at Tasha’s short, tight, bright red skirt. She’s wearing black tights underneath which give the illusion of eternal length. Her ice-blue midriff top reveals a perfectly rounded navel pierced with an expensive gold ring. She has to be freezing in this get-up. I snort loudly, seething with jealousy. The malignant thought hits me as I reach into my jeans pocket for a tissue: she has Jarrod to keep her warm. God, it’s so unfair!

‘What a turn,’ Hannah remarks, shaking her head. ‘You never told me, whatd’ya think?’

She means Pecs getting dumped for Jarrod. I can’t help remembering only this morning when it appeared Jessica Palmer was with Jarrod. I bet she’s not pleased with the switch. But of course, what Tasha wants, Tasha always gets. It’s her upbringing. Ultra rich. Unbelievably spoilt. Her parents own a Hereford stud farm, but they don’t work it themselves. It’s Doctor Daniels, and his wife’s a lawyer and President of the local Country Women’s Association – Ashpeak’s most prominent professionals.

I blow my nose, hating these pre-winter sniffles and think about it all. We should have seen this coming. Tasha’s been drooling over Jarrod ever since that first memorable morning in the science lab. Even Pecs saw her interest. But Tasha is one hell of a manipulator. I mean, who am I kidding? She has more social pull at this school than Pecs would in a lifetime. He’s just a brute, while Tasha is it. The one with whom everyone wants to be seen. Pecs adores her. Pecs ogles her. Tasha is Queen of Ashpeak High. There is no other on this mountain who can match her on all three counts: looks, arrogance and social standing.

It occurs to me, now that Jarrod is so obviously an accepted member of their group, Pecs will have to find someone else to get stuck into. Pecs is like that, has to have his kicking bag.

Hannah’s looking at me strangely, as if she’s waiting for a reply from someone who’s just left for another planet. I try to recall what she said, something about Tasha being involved with Jarrod and not Pecs. ‘Who cares?’

‘Ahh, you don’t of course,’ she returns with sarcastic sweetness.

I roll my eyes and decide to get another cappuccino. No way can I get a waitress’s attention in this crowd so I go straight up to the counter. Bad move. Two people see me. The first is Jarrod with a weird expression on his face, like I’ve caught him off guard. I pay for my coffee, keeping my eyes lowered, but sense he’s still staring. I can’t stop myself from stealing one quick glance. But when my eyes catch his they don’t budge. Moisture dries in my mouth.

Pecs looks up to see what Jarrod is looking at, and when he sees me, he scoffs loudly. ‘Can’t blame you staring, mate.’ He slaps Jarrod on the back in an all-male, best-buddies gesture. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it. We call her the Freak Show.’ His hands fly up, one on either side of his thick face, fingers splayed, exaggeratedly trembling.

Some of my coffee spills as I hurry back to my booth. It isn’t Pecs’s sick remark that has me worried. I can take plenty of them. It’s the look on Jarrod’s face – bitten with sudden hardness. I’ve seen it before – in Mr Garret’s science lab moments before that bizarre storm. His green eyes are blazing at Pecs, who’s so oblivious he’s still sniggering under his breath.