Sanctuary by Meg Cabot Page B

among the most toolish of things to say, but I was trying to think fast.
    Rob looked about as uncomfortable as I had ever seen him. This was on account of the fact that:
    a)He was in a mall.
    b)He was in a mall with his mom.
    c)He had run into me there.
    d)I was with Ruth.
    Ruth and Rob are not among one another’s favorite people. In fact, I had only recently convinced Ruth to stop referring to Rob as The Jerk on account of him never calling me. Rob thought Ruth was an elitist Townie snob who looked down on non-college-bound people such as himself. Which in fact she was. But that didn’t make her a bad person, necessarily.
    “Isn’t this funny,” Mrs. Wilkins said, with a happy smile. “I’ve been trying to convince Rob to let me take him to get measured for a tux for my brother’s wedding since … well, forever, it seems like. And today, when he picked me up after work, he finally agreed. So here we are. And here you are! Isn’t that funny?”
    “It sure is,” I said, even though I didn’t think it was funny at all. Especially since Rob hadn’t said anything to me about having a wedding to attend. A wedding at which he might be expected to bring a date. Who by rights should be have been me. “I thought Earl was already married,” I said, to cover up my inner rage over Rob having never mentioned this before.
    “Oh, it’s not Earl,” Mrs. Wilkins said. “It’s my little brother Randy. He and his fiancee are tying the knot on Christmas Eve. Have you ever heard of anything so romantic?”
    Christmas Eve? A Christmas Eve wedding at which Rob would be wearing a tuxedo, and he hadn’t said a word to me about it? I’d have gone with him, if he’d asked me. I’d have gone with him gladly. I’d have worn the green velvet sheath dress my mom had made me for last year’s Lion’s Club dinner in honor of Mike winning that scholarship. If my mom wasn’t around, wearing the one she’d made herself that matched mine, it actually looked good on me.
    But no. No, Rob hadn’t even bothered to mention he’d been invited to this affair. Nothing. Not a word.
    Suddenly I felt like blurting out what I had learned in my dreams last night about Rob’s dad, right in front of everyone, just to get back at him for having purposefully left me out of this very important family event that I was now dying to go to more than I had ever wanted to go to anything before in my life.
    “How nice,” I said, with what I hoped was a frosty smile in Rob’s direction. He was studiously avoiding my gaze. Or maybe he was just trying to avoid making eye contact with Ruth, who was pointedly returning the favor. Either way, he was a dead man.
    “Oh, but, Jess!” Mrs. Wilkins’s hand shot out, and she grasped my fingers, the smile wiped from her face. “Rob told me what happened to you two on your way back home last night. I’m so sorry! It must have been awful. I feel so terrible for the boy’s parents… .”
    “Yes,” I said, my smile growing less frosty. “It was pretty bad.”
    “If there’s anything I can do,” Mrs. Wilkins said. “I mean, I can’t imagine how I could help, but if you think those poor people could use some home cooking, or something, let me know. I do make a decent casserole… .”
    “Sure thing, Mrs. Wilkins,” I said. “I’ll let you know. And thanks again for dinner last night.”
    “Oh, honey, it was nothing,” Mrs. Wilkins said, squeezing my fingers one last time before letting them go. “I’m just so glad you could share it with us.”
    All that would have been bad enough. But a second later, the whole thing got about ten times worse. Just when I thought I was about to escape virtually unscathed—except for the whole not-having-been-asked-to-Rob’s-uncle’s-wedding thing—I heard a sound that caused the blood in my veins to curdle.
    Which was Great-aunt Rose, calling my name.
    “See, I told you it was Jessica,” Great-aunt Rose said, hauling my mother up to us. Rose’s blue eyes,