Chapter 20

Rowena

“You taste sweet.”

I was left stunned beneath the bright flashing lights of the homecoming dance. In an instant, Eric was gone; I was alone on the dance floor after an intense kiss with…

My brother?

This had to be a joke. But even if it was, it was too far. The incident in my room on the couch was bad enough, but this? This was way over the line.

Suddenly, I felt a hand on my arm. I spun around, breathless, to see Adrian standing there. He still looked a bit confused. “You okay?” he asked. “Your brother took you away so abruptly. Did he need to talk to you or something?”

I swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, uh… We just needed to talk. I’m sorry,” I said. “I hope your dance with Heather was nice.”

Adrian shrugged. “Want another drink?”

“I, um…” I froze, staring down at my empty hand where the punch cup had been before but was gone now. The idea of sipping a bit more to calm my nerves was appealing, but…

“I think I actually need to go home,” I blurted out.

Adrian’s eyes widened. “What?” he exclaimed. “But we just got here!”

I swallowed, feeling my cheeks flush what I was certain was an incredibly deep shade of red. “I just, um… I’m not feeling so good,” I said. “I think I just need to—”

“It was an intense dance, that’s all.” Adrian took me by the arm and began leading me back over to the bar. “You just need to sit down and take a breather and you’ll be fine.”

But even as Adrian led me away, I couldn’t get the taste of my brother’s hot lips off of mine. He had kissed me so deeply—far more deeply than any joke. And what he had said afterwards… “You taste sweet.”

“No,” I suddenly said, pulling my hand away from Adrian’s. “I’m sorry, Adrian, but I really think I need to go home. I… I feel really sick.”

Adrian paused, then sighed and ran a hand through his black hair. “Alright. I’ll drive you home.”

…

Monday morning, I adjusted my cardigan as I stepped into the manager’s office. It was my third week of interning, and it was about time for me to get a new assignment; hopefully something more than checking statistics.

Although at this point, I would take anything if it meant getting that kiss with my brother off of my mind.

“Look what the cat dragged in.”

The familiar voice caught my attention. I jerked my head up, my eyes widening slightly as I saw Heather sitting at my desk. With all of my stuff shoved into a cardboard box on the floor by her feet.

“Heather,” I said, forcing a hint of politeness into my voice. “That’s my desk.”

“No, actually. It’s mine now.”

I furrowed my brow. Heather wasn’t an intern; she had no right to take my desk from me. She was probably pranking me somehow, trying to get back at me for winning the internship over her. But when I turned to see the head manager sitting casually at his own desk, I realized that I was wrong.

“Rowena, welcome our new intern,” he said nonchalantly as he flipped through a clipboard of statistics. “Heather is going to be working alongside you now.”

I had to stifle a groan. Seriously? Not only was it bad enough that my own brother had ruined the pivotal homecoming dance for me with his stupid prank kiss, but now I had to work alongside a girl who hated my guts?

Surely she got her family to step in. There was no other way she got this internship.

But I put on a polite face and nodded. “Welcome, Heather. But I really need to get to my desk, so…”

“I already told you it’s my desk.”

The head manager simply nodded when I looked to him for support. He stood, dusting himself off. “Rowena, you can take the vacant utility room down the hall,” he said. “I’ve got an appointment to run too. I want you two situated before I get back.”

With that, he left.

Almost as soon as the doors swung shut behind him, Heather jumped down from the desk and sauntered over to me. “Feels bad, doesn’t it?” she asked. “To have something of yours taken away.”

“What are you talking about, Heather?”

“Oh, please. You know what you did at the homecoming dance, you little bitch,” she said coldly. “You made Eric ditch me. What an insult.”

“Heather, he’s my brother,” I said with a scoff. “I didn’t steal him from you. And I left early anyway.”

Heather scowled and put her hands on her hips. “Either way, it was embarrassing to have your ugly little mug take my dance partner away from me. Not to mention how your little lie at the pool party also cost my sister her position on the cheerleading team.”

“You mean Emma?” I laughed. “Heather, you know she tried to drown me. I’ve already told you.”

But Heather just looked at her watch and smirked. “Clock’s ticking,” she said. “The head manager told us to have this situated before he gets back, so… chop chop. I believe you’ve got a utility room waiting for you.”

I opened my mouth to retort, but no words would come; something told me that there was no use in trying to argue with Heather. So, with a huff, I grabbed my box of stuff and stormed out.

“Ta ta, Rowena,” she cooed after me. “Enjoy losing your desk. Next, you’ll be losing your internship.”

There was no point in retaliating. I let the doors slam behind me and stormed down the hall, down to the utility closet; and when I opened the door, I felt the box slip from my hands.

It was a mess! The room was filled with boxes, dust and cobwebs, and it smelled like mothballs.

Great, I thought to myself. But what else did I expect at this point?

…

At some point, after managing to clear out most of the dust and cobwebs and shove a lot of the boxes aside, I wiped the layer of sweat from my brow and stepped back to take a look.

Not ideal; the room was still too hot, pipes lined the walls and the ‘desk’ was just a folding table I had found in a nearby storage room. But it was doable.

Besides, soon enough I would be back at my old desk once the head manager realized how utterly useless Heather was.

It was then, though, that a noise caught my attention: voices. A lot of voices. Rolling my sleeves back down, I followed the cacophony out to the lobby, where I was met with a group of warriors standing around a bulletin board.

“One vote per person, please,” the head manager said calmly as he handed out what looked like ballots. “Remember, only one person can become a regular member. So choose wisely.”

I pushed my way forward into the crowd, toward a familiar head of blond hair: Eric. I stopped next to him and nudged him with my elbow.

“What’s this?” I asked.

Eric looked a bit startled to see me standing there—sometimes I had a habit of slipping through crowds unseen and sneaking up on people with my short stature—but then shrugged.

“Internal selection for warrior camp,” he said. “They’re choosing a group of warriors to participate in the Southern Werewolf Warrior Championship.”

“Are they picking any combat managers?” I asked.

Eric smirked at me. “Why, you interested?”

“Of course I am.”

He finally nodded his head toward the bulletin board. “Take a look for yourself.”

Furrowing my brow, I pushed forward to the board. And there it was: a short list of names under the combat manager category. Just two names, actually.

Mine. And Heather’s.

And Heather, on her first day of the internship, already had way more votes than me. Actually, I didn’t have any votes; Heather already had fifty. I felt my heart sink as soon as I saw it.

“Interesting, isn’t it?” Eric came up beside me and ticked my name off under the ‘combat manager’ section of his ballet, then stuffed the completed ballot into the box. “Looks like you’ll have to step up your game, Rowena.”