ruby-red hair; a Babydoll Sophie, in a black lacy dress and licking a pink lollipop; a No-Ball Sophie, complete with pink gown, bald cap, and stick-on warts; an Evil Queen Sophie in full-black leather and snakeskin cape; a Rebel Sophie, in a dazzling slit-back black dress, with red sequins that spelled “F is for Fabulous.”… There were even a few Filips.
Not to be left out, several boys had dressed like Tedros, with some in his creamy white breeches and royal-blue lace-up shirt from the first-year Evers Ball, a few in his loose ivory shirt and black pants from his night with Sophie in an Avalon cave, and two tall Neverboys who’d worn the tightest of shorts and forgone shirts entirely.
“Hort, darling, there’s even one of you!” Sophie said, pointing to a bone-thin, rabbit-faced boy in handmade frog pajamas, who’d just spilled his drink on a girl.
“Got the pajamas wrong,” Hort’s man-wolf grumped.
“Oh, don’t be a louse. You know, they’re all having so much fun I can’t tell the Evers from the Nevers anymore,” said Sophie, watching more of Good’s students flood in with giddy smiles, as if they’d secretly been waiting their whole lives for an Evil party. “Even the teachers have stopped searching for a reason to shut it down.”
Professor Manley and Professor Sheeks were snickering as they stealthily shot flames across the soda fountain every time an Ever reached for a glass. Nearby, Castor and Professor Anemone shook their rumps on the dance floor while students of both schools hooted them on.
“Listen, I can’t last much longer like this. I’m hot, hairy, and hungry,” Hort grouched, drool dripping from his snout. “Any second, I’m going to shrink back to human without any clothes on.”
“You can’t go now. The Room 46 boys are almost here!” Sophie said, squinting at a pack of Everboys crossing the bridge. “I knew Bodhi, Laithan, and the rest of their delicious little clan would come, even if they didn’t RSVP. Handsome boys never RSVP. They just grace you with their presence like a balmy day in winter.”
“What? Who’s Bodhi? Who’s Laithan?” Hort growled. “How do you know Everboys’ names—”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Everybody knows the boys of Honor Tower, Room 46. Besides, I’m sure you can last as a man-wolf for as long as you want. Think of first year when you could only do it for five seconds. Now you can go all night if you put your mind to it.”
“I’m not lasting all night for a bunch of Everboys,” Hort snapped.
“Don’t be irrelevant, darling,” Sophie wisped. “For six months, I’ve been obsessing over Agatha and Tedros, wondering how they were doing in Camelot. I know I said I hadn’t given them the slightest thought, but we both know that’s a lie, so I might as well be honest. I couldn’t bear the idea that they could be happy without me, even after that hellfire of a coronation. But tonight’s the first night I haven’t thought of them at all. Which goes to show: if Agatha doesn’t want me to help her plan her wedding, then I’ll happily throw a party for myself. And I assure you, mine will be far better.”
She smiled as the fireworks over the dance floor arranged into a vision of her own face and students from both schools hollered their approval. Nearby, kids dug into a red velvet cake shaped as a giant S and flanked by piles of oat-ginger cookies frosted with sayings like “S is for Sublime,” “S is for Succulent,” “S is for Sophie.” A pimply, sharp-toothed Neverboy climbed her statue and kissed it triumphantly, eliciting whistles and cheers, but Sophie didn’t mind it in the least, soaking in the Ever-Never chants from the dance floor: “SOPHIE! SOPHIE! SOPHIE!”
“If you think about it, Aggie and I don’t even have much in common anymore,” Sophie added, waving back at the adoring crowd. “She has her life with Tedros, the two of them about to marry and become each other’s family. And I have my own life: wedding-less, family-less, date-less, but so filled with possibilities. …”
“I thought I was your date,” Hort said.
“Look at my little peaches. Aren’t they scrumptious?” Sophie gushed, nodding at a few awkward Nevergirls in hip-hugging black leather talking to a shrimpy Everboy. “Spent all week teaching them how to fake self-esteem. What do you think? They’re all your age. Any of them catch your fancy?”
“My what? Are you insane!” Hort retorted. “Not only are they first years, but I’m their teach—”
“Put me down!” Sophie gasped.
“What?”
“Down, Hort! Down!”
Hort quickly swung her to the floor and Sophie lunged in front of him—
“Bodhi, darling, welcome to my school,” Sophie purred, holding out her hand to a tall, reedy boy in a royal-blue coat with dark-caramel skin and big black eyes, who gently took it and kissed it like a prince.
“And hello, Laithan, you’re looking exceptionally handsome tonight,” she said to his short, muscular friend with chestnut hair and freckles. Laithan smiled flirtily and kissed her on the cheek.
“Well, if that’s how you’re going to say hello, I’ll say hello to all of you,” Sophie cooed, presenting her cheek to the rest of their Everboy gang: swimmery, silver-haired Akiro; dark, wavy-haired Valentin; bald-headed, ghostly Devan. … “Save a dance for me,” she whispered to each one.
“A dance!” Hort hissed in her ear, apoplectic. “You’re a Dean, not a hostess at the Pig and Pepper! You can’t dance with students!”
“I’ve combed The Ever Never Handbook thoroughly and see no rules against it. And besides, some of these boys look far older than I do,” Sophie said, turning to greet the next boy—
Only it wasn’t a boy at all.
It was a Dean.
And she wasn’t alone.
Dean Dovey clacked past Sophie into Evil Hall, green gown sweeping behind her, as if this was her school and Sophie the intruder. The silver-haired professor was flanked by three witches, each of who glared at Sophie one by one.
“Everboys in our castle,” said the tattooed witch.
“Everboys in our school,” said the albino witch.
“Told you, told you, told you,” huffed the jolly witch, turning Sophie’s tiara into chocolate and gobbling it down in one bite.
“You lied to me?” Sophie mewled, gaping at Clarissa’s Quest Map, floating over the sand on Evil’s side of Halfway Bay. All her classmates’ names were colored red beneath their moving figurines instead of blue like they were on her map. “But I’m supposed to know everything! I’m a Dean! I’m your equal! Instead, you give me a false map … you make me think all our quests are going well … you keep me in the dark on the fact my friends are failing miserably—”
“‘Friends’ is a loose term,” Hester murmured.
“And you being ‘equal’ to Dovey is like Dot being ‘equal’ to me,” said Anadil.
“We’ll see who’s equal when I turn your rats to fudge,” said Dot.
“Oh
