We both glance back over at Stevie, still smiling, the whole D&D gang utterly captivated by her. She catches us watching her and waves, her smile brightening.
“Thank you,” I say, then shake my head. “For understanding about all this. But seriously, Baz. Stevie and I… She doesn’t feel that way about me. As far as she’s concerned, I’m in the big brother zone.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Gingersnap. I mean, you’re notmytype by any stretch, but you’ve got a certain appeal.” He narrows his eyes, pretending to consider me. “I could see it.”
I crack up. “Yeah, well. You know what they say. Once you go red, you—”
“Don’t finish that sentence, or you’ll end up dead?” Baz grins.
“Who’s ending up dead?” Stevie joins us at the hearth, standing between us and looping an arm over each of our shoulders. “Are you two brutes threatening the first-years again?”
“Hell no,” Baz says. “Only the D&D guys.”
“Sorry, kids,” he calls over to them. “She’s got her hands full.”
“Baz!” Stevie gives him a playful smack on the chest. “You guys are terrible. Both of you. Now take me to Hot Shots before I change my mind and this bomb-ass outfit goes to waste.”
“As you wish, Little Bird.”
The three of us head over to Hot Shots, walking down the red stone path arm-in-arm, Stevie in the middle, each of us taking turns thinking up the best karaoke revenge songs we can spring on each other.
“Ah, fuck,” Baz grumbles, and I can tell from his tone who’s coming.
That tone is reserved for one person and one person only.
“Hey, Carly,” I say as three women approach us on the path, eager to keep things cordial. The last thing I need is Carly’s Baz infatuation—and its ensuing bickering—destroying my Friday night happy vibe. “Emory. Blue. You guys heading to karaoke tonight?”
“Wewere,” Carly huffs, flipping her dark hair. “But Hot Shots is a total bust tonight.”
“Dead crowd?” Baz asks.
“No crowd. No anything. The place got flooded—it’s closed.”
“You’re kidding?” Stevie asks.
Carly glares at her, then rolls her eyes. “Yes, Twink, I make a habit of spreading rumors about bars being closed just for kicks. Hilarious, right?”
Stevie smiles. “Well, great talking with you, as always. I think we’ll go check it out anyway.”
“Suit yourselves,” Carly says with a shrug. “But seriously. Waste of time. They’ve already shut it down.”
We continue on our way, leaving the Claires in the rearview. Still, it takes me a minute to shake off her bad mojo. Carly has a way of sucking all the light out of the place on the best of days, and tonight she seemed particularly off. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but something in her demeanor was just… odd. Nervous, almost.
“Ani, you okay?” Stevie asks, ruffling my hair.
“Yeah.” I blink away the image of Carly, focusing instead on Stevie’s big blue eyes. “More than okay.”
“Good.” She beams at me, then takes my hand, giving it an affectionate squeeze. “Okay, boys. I’ve decided on my first song.”
“Don’t leave us in suspense,” Baz says.
“Edge of Seventeen, by the singer with the best name ever.”
“Who?” Baz teases.
“Stevie Nicks, dumbass.”
“Badass,” I say, just as Hot Shots comes into view.
