Page 5 of Hilarina and the Ogre

“I can do a trade,” Hilary quickly added. It wasn’t easy begging for handouts, even if it was from a pariah. “I don’t know what I can exchange for it though.”

Things were even tighter since the move, and cash simply wasn’t an option.

“Then would you—” Trenton paused. He seemed to be even worse at the asking thing, and was already looking back down at the textbook. “If you could help me in the studio, that would be good. Like you did before.”

Before? When he’d told the boy to fuck off? Hilary had never seen a real-life humiliation kink at work before. “If you want.”

Trenton pushed the book his way. “What were you having trouble with?”

What didn’t he have trouble with? “I can’t even make it to the calc. I screw up the basic steps. The algebra parts.”

“The hard part is the algebra,” Trenton said.” The calculus is easy.”

Easy for the genius, maybe, but Trenton was already printing out a problem at the top of the notebook. “Here,” the boy said, handing over the pen. “Where would you start with this one?”

Two hours later, Varda found them, and she was pissed. “Really? You’re hiding?”

Hilary blinked, confused for a second. He dropped the pen. “No, I was—”

“I told you to keep your ringer on. Do you know how many times I called you? My zipper jammed.”

“Sorry. I’ll—”

“Forget it. Steph got it out.” She pulled on his arm, dragging him up. She was strong when she was pissed. “They’ve already started the last dance.”

Self-preservation kicked in after that. Hilary took as many pictures as Varda wanted, but it was too little, too late. It wasn’t only him she was pissed at. She’d gotten lipstick on her costume getting it on, and she blamed the fog machines for making her hair wilt. Hilary tried to bear being the punching bag with good grace, but he was cranky too. The flashing lights had given him a headache, and he was tired, and antsy, and done with being around so many people. When she tried to start something in the car, he cut her off with, “Enough.” It came out sharp, and what followed was an angry silence and a lot of cigarette smoke. He preferred that though, and was finally beginning to unclench his jaw when she said, “You like fatties or something?”

“Huh?”

“You ditched the party to make-out with the Whale.”

This time, Hilary didn’t manage to stop the eye-roll. “We were doing math. I have an exam on Monday.”

“So he tutors you and you blow him afterward?”

She was trying to rile him up. It was what she always did when she was pissed, like she couldn’t let things go until he was more miserable than she was. Hilary’s jaw hurt, and he knew he was clenching again. He had divots in his molars because of the clenching. The dentist liked to point them out to him. “That’s right,” he said, heavy on the sarcasm. “I love cock.”

She blew some more smoke into the car—a thing that was sure to trigger another of Albert’s smoking-kills talks. Hilary opened his mouth to tell her to hang her stupid head out the window when he noticed her eyes were wet.

She was trying to hide it by acting like a bitch, but emotional manipulation wasn’t her calling card. Hilary had only seen her cry once before, and she’d tried to hide it then too. He took a smoke-filled breath and forced himself to count to ten.

“I’m sorry I disappeared,” he said. “I thought my ringer was on, but I guess it wasn’t. I didn’t mean to stress you out.”

She said nothing, just lit another cigarette.

“Mom’s really good at stain-treating clothes,” he continued. “I’m sure she’ll help get the lipstick out.”

Varda flicked ash out the window. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t wear the same costume twice.”

Hilary reminded himself that this was important. It may have been just a stupid party, but it was different for her. She loved Halloween. Was almost sweet with how her eyes would light up when she spoke about it, actually.

“You looked good,” he said. “Really good. Everyone said so.”

“I always look good.”

That also sounded bitchy, but it was different. She was coming out of the funk a little. “There were some good pictures, right?” she asked.

“That’s right, so make sure to credit your photographer.”