Insidious(53)

“It’s okay.” I knelt down, helping the girl gather up the pieces of glass onto the serving tray. Plenty of feet passed by us, but no one else seemed inclined to lend a helping hand. Once we were certain we’d picked up every last fleck of glass, I followed the server into the kitchen and dumped the mess into the trash.

Masses of long curly locks fell into the girl’s eyes as she rushed around the counters, continuously apologizing. “I hope I didn’t ruin them,” she whimpered, pointing at my shoes.

“That makes one of us,” I laughed, taking the bundle of cloth napkins she handed me to clean myself off. “I’m pretty sure Satan invented these.”

I achingly pried the towering stilettos off, wiping up the inside soles where some Champaign had gathered.

“Oh my God,” gasped the server. I followed her gaze down, seeing the bloody insides of my feet. The heels had been torture, and apparently more than I had imagined. Mom had just bought them for me, the insides an inflexible, hard plastic material that chafed the sides of my feet with every step. They’d been hurting, but I didn’t think it was this bad.

“Let me go fetch you some Band-Aids.”

“No, no. It’s okay—”

“Really, I insist. It’s the least I could do,” said the server, darting for the hall.

More servers, both men and women, came and went from the kitchen. I limped over to the corner, trying best to get out of their way as they swapped empty trays for ones with freshly stocked appetizers and alcohol. Everyone else from the party was too busy socializing in the rest of the magnificent manor that I thankfully found myself alone.

“Where the hell have you been?” growled Mrs. Ryder. I startled at the sound of her voice, turning to see Sybil scowling at the base of the side staircase. Slow footsteps clomped down into the kitchen and a handsome black-haired boy emerged from the shadows. “The party started over forty minutes ago. Everyone’s been asking about you.”

The young man, who couldn’t have been much older than me, stood lazily slouched in a dark blue suit as Sybil came up and started fussing over his tie.

“Remember to ask Sabrina how her trip was, and don’t forget to talk to Lawrence Appleton, and—”

“I know, Mother,” the young man huffed as Sybil tightened his tie in excess. “And I know how much you want me to look like a human Ken doll, but unlike him, I’m required to breathe.” He yanked at the tightly bound tie like it was a noose, loosening it enough again so that it didn’t appear to be choking him.

“Straighten up, and smile,” she ordered through gritted teeth.

The raven-haired boy animatedly hopped to attention and smiled as broad as he could, widening his eyes for additionally asinine effect. I had to clamp my hands to my mouth to suppress my laughter, relieved to see neither still seemed to notice I was there.

“Will you knock it off?” Sybil growled. “You look deranged.”

“Then I should fit in just fine,” he countered.

She merely cast him a tested look. The boy deflated, letting his features soften until they resembled something more natural.

“Better.” Sybil ushered him out through the swinging kitchen door towards the ruckus of people.

I stood there still waiting for the server to return, catching glimpses of the handsome young man as servers continued in and out of the kitchen. His smile seemed sincere enough, so long as nobody really paid too close attention. It never faltered, remaining plastic and unwavering, a sign that it was well rehearsed. But the smile never quite reached his eyes. I knew that look all too well. I wore it to every party Mom dragged me to.

He continued surveying the room, appearing to map out the quickest way to get the hell out of there. The young man slinked back into the kitchen not a moment later, sighing exhaustedly as he yanked his tie clean off and relinquished a string of swear words.

“Rough night, I take it?”

He whirled on his heels, looking back at me like a deer caught in headlights. “Oh…shit.”

I chuckled.

“Sorry,” he murmured, ruffling a hand through his perfectly groomed hair enough that it left it properly tossled. “I’m just…uh…not feeling very well.”

“Uh-huh.” I still couldn’t quite rid myself of my smile as the server returned with two large Band-Aids in hand. I thanked her, and she startled at the sight of the man. The server murmured something incoherent before quickly grabbing a tray and fleeing.

I turned my attention back to the black-haired boy who was now looking at me quizzically. He took notice to the blood on the insides of my feet and moved in closer. “God, what happened?”