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“We’re not the ones who’d restrain you,” I remind her. “Your fucking husband would pull you out of a confrontation first.”
She mutters, “pacifist,” under her breath.
Lily suddenly butts into our circle of three, climbing out of the limo and squeezing in the middle of us. “I think it’s important to tell all of you something before we begin this journey.” She has glitter all over her face and her wing keeps jabbing me in the fucking ribs. “The hot-tempered triad cannot come out to play.”
We all groan.
“This is serious.” She spits a strand of hair off her lips. “Don’t freak out if someone hits on Daisy.”
“She’s fucking pregnant,” I growl, narrowing my eyes at the idea. No. Fuck no.
“See, you’re already freaking out! Don’t do that, Ryke.”
I glower, but she turns on Rose. “Don’t freak out if someone says mean and rude things to me. I’m going to be okay.”
Rose purses her lips, trying to bite her tongue, but she blurts out, “I’ll slit their throats.”
Me fucking too. Immediately agreeing with the metaphorical threat.
Lily spins on Lo. “And you.”
“Yes, love?” Lo begins to smile which almost cracks Lily’s stern demeanor.
She stands confidently though. Her Tinker Bell to his Peter Pan. “You better have the best twenty-seventh birthday ever. AndLorenHalealwaysfucksbetter,” she slurs together before kissing his cheek quickly and disappearing back into the limo.
Lo looks infatuated.
“Fucking finally,” I say as soon as the door opens and Connor emerges.
He’s wearing a Luke Skywalker costume, all white like a fucking god.
I glare at Lo who can’t stop laughing between the two of us. He put us in matching costumes. I realize that Rose knew what I was wearing. She was just putting the pieces together too—that I’m basically coupled with her fucking husband tonight.
“I fucking hate you,” I tell my brother while Rose slips into the limo.
Lo pats my shoulder. “My birthday,” he reminds me.
He’s going to milk this all night.
Connor keeps a composed expression by the sight of my wardrobe, but I’m sure, beneath it all, he’s just as irritated as me. He then tilts his head to Lo. “I see what you did there, darling.”
Lo touches his heart. “Can you feel my love?”
“Immensely.”
I nod to Connor. “What took you so fucking long?”
“Miss me?”
“I was worried,” I say, not beating around the fucking bush. “You two are never late.”
“We were busy.” He uses the reflection of the limo to fix his slightly unkempt, wavy brown hair.
It clicks. “You were fucking.”
“Good boy,” he says. “Want a treat? Or should I stick my lightsaber into you now?”
I put my black Wayfarers on. “Don’t stick your lightsaber anywhere near me, Cobalt.”
He grins that billion-dollar grin.
Lo snatches my glasses off my eyes. “It’s nighttime and you’re a damn Jedi Knight. You don’t wear sunglasses.”
If we’re seriously roleplaying, I would need to die by the night’s end. Whatever happens—I just don’t want to see any of the girls or my brother or even Connor in the hospital.
Can we avoid that? Or is it inevitable that everything will end in complete fucking disaster?
DAISY MEADOWS
“Breaker breaker,” I say into my speakerphone. Loud, ominous music drowns the chatter from hundreds of bodies, mostly celebrities. It’s been easier to blend within the costumed crowds and be an observer rather than the one observed. “We’ve lost Anakin and Peter. Where can we find them?”
“I can’t hear you! What was that?!” Lily screams, her voice crackly in my phone. The reception in the coastal mansion sucks. I hold Willow’s hand, a group of men dressed as a fraternity, push through our area by the mummy statue.
Willow scoots closer to me. “I’ve never seen so many people in one house.”
This may be a record for me too. I squeeze her hand, but she begins coughing as a fog machine smokes out our area.
“WHERE IS PETER PAN?!” I shout into the phone. This pee break is turning into an adventure. Everyone left the velvet-lined coffin in the dining room, which was not cool after we returned.
Her voice crackles again. I give in and hang up on my sister. I waft the foggy air and then set my hands on Willow’s shoulder. “Let’s think about this. Where would Loren Hale go?” He’s driving this party train somewhere.
“The kitchen?” Willow guesses. “He likes to eat chips at Superheroes & Scones functions a lot.”
She may be right. “Then that’s where we’ll go, milady.” I straighten her lopsided silver-winged headband thing. It was a part of my Thor costume but we swapped. A golden, angelic wreath sits on my blonde hair, the length to my collarbones.
As I lead her through the depths of chatting pirates and firemen, our track is cut short by a half-naked, forty-something man. A black cardboard “censor” sign covers his crotch.
“Hi,” I say before he speaks. “We’re trying to meet someone that way.” I point past him.
He takes a moment to swig his mixed drink, eyeing both of us. “I can get you wherever you both need to go.”
Willow has the most iconic, grossed out expression, like she’s spent decades avoiding eating broccoli, and tonight, of all nights, she’s confronted the foul vegetable.
I tell him, “That’s not necessary, but thanks for the offer.” I said thanks in a nice voice. Rose wouldn’t care about offending him or anyone like this.
I know this part of me won’t change. As long as it never brings me down, I think it’s okay to be this way sometimes. I don’t have to be just like Rose or like Ryke.
I can be me.
I know who that is now.
Before he can respond, I duck beneath his arm, towing Willow behind me. She thankfully keeps close and we escape that guy.
As soon as we enter the bare kitchen—tiny candles set along the granite countertops—Ryke rushes towards me. His scowl and concern mixed with his Star Wars costume has an oddly super attractive effect. He’d be the sexy, I give no fucks guy at a nerd convention. Who accidentally acts more like his character by just being confident.
“Where t
he fuck did you go pee? We’ve been looking for you two everywhere.” He sets a protective hand on the top of my head, his cane in his other one.
“To the moon and back,” I smile, hoping to relax him.
He looks to Willow for an actual answer.
“Just the first floor bathroom. No one was by the coffin when we came back.”
“Told you,” Garrison says to the entire group. Everyone is by the bar counter, his laptop propped on a stool. Connor stands closest to Garrison, scrutinizing him and the computer screen with more interest than he ever shows people.
“You’re either really embodying this whole devil thing,” Lo says, “or it’s just in your soul.” Lo’s barely looking at him. He’s currently raiding the house’s pantry with Lily hanging onto his waist, trying to pull him away with lots of effort.
“Lo, you can’t.”
Ryke follows my gaze, going rigid for a second.
Lo retrieves a box of Cheez-Its. “I can. Maybe they should’ve thought about snacks, huh?” He opens the brand new box in front of her face.
Lily whispers, “Should we write an IOU?”
“Lil,” he says, popping one in his mouth. “Think of it as their birthday present to me.”
“It could be worse,” Connor tells her, his attention split between Garrison and them. “He could have broken into their liquor cabinet and consumed a forty-thousand dollar bottle of alcohol.”
I’ve heard this story before—of when Ryke met Lo at a Halloween party. After Lo drank some guy’s expensive liquor.
Ryke adds, “And had a bunch of Ninja Turtles chase after you down the street.”
“See, love,” Lo says to her. “My worst is over.”
She smiles and then holds out her hand.
He pours some Cheez-Its in her palm with his own growing smile.
The cuteness from Lily to Lo and Lo to Lily always makes me surprised that they pretended to be together for so long. I think, all along, they were just fooling each other. The love between them is true and rare and something I always wished I had.
