Page 48 of 6 Clues Your Nemesis Loves You

You other Gingersnaps are just impostors

So won’t the real Gingersnap give us a wave

Please wave at your adoring fans

A chorus of Gingersnap! catcalls follows. Maggie gives me the universal fuck-you finger as I continue messing up lyrics and teasing the heck out of her. By the time I’m done, the small crowd goes wild. I’m vindicated. The newly crowned karaoke king, leaving embarrassed twelve-year-old me in his dust.

I hop off the stage and strut toward one very uppity woman.

She crosses her arms. “Proud of yourself, are you?”

“Unbelievably. Where’s my shot?”

The biker dude who sang “Sweet Caroline” waves in her face. “Gingersnap! Hey, Tommy! It’s Gingersnap!”

She grimaces a half sneer at him, then her green eyes transform into twin lasers, burrowing holes into my forehead. “The only shot you’re getting is a shot to the head.”

I close the distance between us, practically pressing my cheek to hers as I whisper, “If that means your hands are on me, you won’t hear me complaining.”

“No flirting, Lennon.” She shoves me away, but there’s huskiness in her voice. “You’re incorrigible.”

“I’m a shitty singer who did my best to turn the tables in my favor. And since you’re the one who orchestrated my doom, you’re buying me a drink.”

She huffs out a sigh and hooks our arms together. “If I must.”

Two hours later, I’m tipsy. My throat is chafed from heckling our friends and cheering on their performances. We’re all crammed into a booth, teasing Aaron for his horrible singing, which rivals mine. Maggie is next to me, looking sleepy, her eyelids lowered and her body soft.

“I had fun tonight,” I tell her quietly.

She shifts, blinks at me, and smiles. “Figured getting out would be better than sitting at home, stewing about your dad. That’s why I invited you.”

She doesn’t say more. Just leans her head on my shoulder, not caring what our friends think. Acting like her comment was no big deal.

But I never told her I was in a funk tonight.

Two weeks ago, she asked me to take her hiking. Not because she’s an outdoorsy woman who was dying to get out. She was hoping the outing would calm my ongoing worries. Tonight, she insisted I leave my house, knowing it would get me out of my head. Aside from the start of the evening, I didn’t brood over my father once. Her nudge to socialize reminded me there’s more to my life than my past. Tonight’s antics even pushed me to obliterate my fear of karaoke.

I’m not sure when Maggie truly became my best friend, but she’s usurped the role. There’s no understudy. She’s the leading lady in my life. And I think I fill the same void for her—alleviate her stress with silly notes, lift her spirits when she’s down, wrangle zombies for her when her work plans explode. I’m still on a mission to literally woo the pants off her, but being here for each other and having fun is even more important, breaking down each other’s walls. Whatever secrets lurk in her mysterious, complicated past, the foundation we’re building will surely make us indestructible.

chapter seventeen

Dad and I are finally meeting tomorrow. Maggie’s karaoke ambush shoved the meeting to the recesses of my mind last night. The effort’s been more challenging today. Not only has my anxiety been resuscitated, but Des and I got Ricky’s construction quote this morning. Looks like I’ll officially need to dig into my WITSEC money, which annoys me even more. So here I am, waiting for Maggie outside town hall. The one person who eases the tension I can’t otherwise seem to shake.

She pushes out of the building doors and scans the area intently. I don’t often meet her after work, but I’ve surprised her on a few occasions. The fact that she’s scanning the square, her expression expectant, suggests she’s searching for me, hoping I’ll meet her.

The awareness unwinds a knot in my chest.

“If you take any longer to spot me,” I call, “I’ll turn to stone like them.” I hook my thumb to the mermaid fountain.

Happiness seems to flush her cheeks. “If you turned into a Lennon fountain, your brothers would stumble here at night, wasted, and pee on you.”

It’s true. As teens, they’d often get drunk and pee on the mermaids. “Would you toss a penny into my pool?”

She swish-sway-saunters up to me, putting an extra swing into her step. “I’d toss all my pennies at you.”

Her slinkier tone adds a layer of innuendo that has me dropping my voice too. “And what would you wish for with all those pennies?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”