Caraval Stephanie Garber Novels & Stories

“I-I don't like this top. It's cool but…I'm just not sure about it. Is it…is it making me look like…?” “Like a person wearing a low cut top but is actually still a virgin?” Stephanie completed with a knowing smile. “Why, yes!” Liv squealed. Stephanie giggled and faced Charlotte. “See that? I got Liv to admit. Within minutes of meeting, I could just tell who she is. I'm like kind of a witch like that.” “Baloney,” Liv said and blew raspberry. “Everyone from California thinks they're kind of a witch.” “Well, not me. I'm a special breed,” Stephanie said. “I can tell if you're gay or straight just by looking at you, how many times you've had sex and even your body count maybe.”

It’s trapped somewhere between embarrassment, confusion, and the way Lucas looked at me earlier like I was something he didn’t know how to handle. The library is quiet. Peaceful. Predictable. The kind of place where emotions are supposed to stay muted. Then I feel it. That familiar rush of chaotic energy that only one person in my life carries. “Marcella!” I flinch slightly and look up. Stephanie is weaving through the tables, eyes bright, steps hurried, excitement written all over her face. She’s smiling so hard it’s ridiculous. A few students glance up, annoyed by the noise, but she doesn’t care.

Garvin’s pov The dancers flowed with so much flexibility and confidence. Every dance step from them drew applause from the crowd. After a group dance, the announcer’s voice cut through the hum of the audience, clear and measured. “Contestant number one…Elena Fob!” She stepped forward and performed his dance, moments later, the voice returned: “Contestant number two… Stephanie brownie,” and that was how he went on and on, until it finally got to Mia’s turn.

The girl was undeniably better than her. She handed the tablet back to her PA and tapped her fingertips on the table. Carmen, her manager, rushed into the room almost immediately. Carmen's breath caught from running. "Have you heard?" Stephanie squeezed the wineglass in her hand until it shattered, cutting her palm. Carmen stammered, noticing the blood trickling down Stephanie's hand. "I see you... You have-have heard." "Who is she?" Stephanie asked, her face devoid of emotion.

If they had more rebels in the pack, they would crumble and Phoebe would not stick around with them. I leaned back in the chair, letting my hands fall to the armrests. My pack was stable. My warriors were loyal. My enemies were quiet. Yet I felt like everything was slipping. A knock came. Not loud. Not rushed. Just three slow taps. “Come in,” I said, not bothering to sit up straight. The door opened, and Stephanie stepped inside. She wore a pale green dress. Too thin for the weather. Her hair was tied up, but loose strands framed her face. I noticed her eyes before anything else. They looked tired.

“Send her in.” Moments later, the door opened, and a gust of perfumed arrogance filled the room. A woman stepped in, high-heeled and high-maintenance, her sharp gaze immediately locking onto Liana. She carried herself like someone used to having the world bend to her will. “Miss Carver?” the woman said, her voice dripping with practiced sweetness that didn’t reach her eyes. “I hear you’re quite… talented. And yet, I’m not sure someone like me would be impressed.”

My face burned as I tried to school my expression into something neutral, something no one would suspect. The students were already gathered near the cabins, buzzing with excitement, when Stephan’s car rolled to a stop. Valeria was the first to spot us. It was like she was on the lookout for us specifically. “Finally,” She crossed her arms, tapping her foot, her smirk sharp as a blade. “We were wondering if you two got lost… or maybe too busy to join us.” My stomach dropped, panic crawling up my throat. Stephan stepped out first, calm as ever, buttoning his jacket like nothing in the world could touch him.

The hall was still not filled as more people came in. I caught sight of Mom and raised my hand for a quick wave. Hayley, who I still kept in touch with even though she'd moved a little far for college, would have been there but she'd promised to meet up for drinks for some girl time when she came back to town in another week or so. Carl and Evan sat beside Mom, and Evan was carry-ing our daughter in his arms. He was looking for me as well, and I thought he saw me, because suddenly he had on this blinding smile, and I grinned back, losing the nervousness as I started to feel excited.

Glad she can find the humor at my expense. “I don’t know about pretty, but that other girl was Stephanie.” “Stephanie,” Marvel says the name, testing it out. “Do you think Sister Stephanie is pretty?” Court asks Marvel, getting out of the truck and opening the back door for Marvel as I help Vivian out of the front seat. Marvel nods confidently, not shy at all about admitting that he found a girl to be pretty, then hops down before making a face at Calum, who plopped his chubby butt down in a puddle of mud.

“That’s how it’s going to be. You can hate me all you want, Camila. But you are mine. And everyone, everyone, is going to know it.” **** The gala lights still burned behind us, flashes from cameras like tiny explosions of white heat, capturing every second of my nightmare in high definition. Stephano’s hand was still on the small of my back, too low, his palm warm and heavy through the silk of my dress as we stepped toward the waiting car. I’d done it. I’d smiled, nodded, pretended to laugh at the right moments, played my role as the adoring fiancée of Stephano Maddens, the billionaire everyone either wanted to be or wanted to ruin.