David, shaking off his daze, moved toward his aunt. “Let Harper do the stupid prayer,” he said, sounding a bit more like himself. “This isn’t her fault.”

Saylor’s head shot up. “First of all, you will not call the Cotillion prayer ‘stupid.’ Secondly, you should be at school right now, not drag racing down Ivy Lane. Thirdly, I have told you that you need to be more careful. And going a hundred miles an hour in a car that is on its last legs is hardly careful. What if you’d had another one of your headaches?”

David scowled at her. “My headaches are no big deal,” he said, but Saylor held up her hand.

“We are not having this argument in Miss Price’s backyard. You’re coming with me.”

He flung one long arm out toward his Stratus. “My car—”

“You can pick it up in the morning. Harper, I’m sure your parents won’t mind if David leaves his vehicle here.”

The way she said it left no doubt that refusing was not an option. “It’s fine,” I said. “And honestly, it’s still another few hours until practice, and I’m sure if I took a quick nap and had a sandwich, I’d be fine, too.” I ended with a little laugh, as if by sheer force of will, I could make her see the funny side to all of this.

That smile again, the one that felt like a threat. “I’ll see you on Wednesday, Harper,” she said, and I could practically hear a gavel go down. I’d been found guilty of Unladylike Behavior, Nephew Endangerment, and, if the look she shot my boots was any indication, Improper Footwear.

And if she ever found out about Ryan . . . oh God, Ryan. I had to call him. I had to explain. “Say good-bye to Harper, David,” Saylor trilled as she began making her way toward David’s car, moving on the balls of her feet to keep her heels from sinking again.

David’s eyes met mine, and I could tell the shock was definitely wearing off. He was getting that same predatory look he’d had at the Homecoming Dance. “Tomorrow. You and me. We need to talk,” he said in a low voice.

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “Duh. But . . . I need to smooth things over with Ryan before I’m seen having sneaky conversations with you. So let me find you tomorrow, okay?”

“Pretty sure ninjas and magic and dead guys trump your boyfriend’s insecurity,” he hissed, leaning in closer.