Page 44 of Darling

“Does it have a cover this year?” Charles asked.

Ominotago shrugged. “It might, but anyone who comes in with me is good to go, so it’s kind of a nonissue.”

Peter had returned to his place behind Nibs and Curly. “I spoke to James before he left,” he said. “He won’t be bothering us again. It’s better this way.”

Curly and Nibs nodded stoically, as if they expected this clear falsehood.

Fyodor clicked his tongue in the back of his throat at Wendy to get her attention. “Your uh—from the … Can I?” He reached out a hand toward Wendy’s hair, waiting for her to give permission.

Unsure what he was asking but willing to give whatever it was a chance, Wendy nodded.

Fyodor leaned over and delicately adjusted the pins holding the sprigs of baby’s breath in her hair, which apparently had been thrown into disarray by the screaming wind outside the train car. He didn’t press too close or stroke her curls without her permission; he just fixed it and nodded crisply when he finished. Then he turned back to his conversation with Minsu and Charles without needing or expecting appreciation of any kind.

Wendy felt Ominotago’s eyes on her, so she stared down at her and Tinkerbelle, who now looked amused as well as relieved.

Ominotago jerked her chin at Fyodor and raised an eyebrow as if to say, See?

Wendy did, in fact, see. She pursed her lips at Ominotago, grinning when Ominotago’s dark eyes seemed to twinkle in answering amusement.

“THIS IS HOWARD. TRANSFER TO PURPLE-LINE TRAINS AT HOWARD,” the train car speakers blared.

“Everybody off,” Peter demanded as the train doors opened. “We’re already late.”

The walk from the train station was less tense than the walk to the train station, now that Wendy was capable of participating in the “lighthearted discussion that is really just a mask for horrifying tension” thing everyone seemed to be doing. Peter also seemed satisfied that their conversation in between the train cars was enough to smooth over whatever he assumed Wendy had been thinking. He was less hyperfocused on surveillance, and settling in to have a good time.

But Wendy wasn’t calm enough to think they weren’t still being watched.

She joined Fyodor and Minsu in an argument about college admissions. She laughed good naturedly when Peter teased Ominotago and Tinkerbelle about being joined at the hip, and didn’t react to the disgusted tension of Fyodor’s jaw or the clenching of Charles’s fists that accompanied their own fake smiles. Wendy felt more in tune with these people than with her friends back home as they worked together, synchronized as a well-oiled machine, to keep the mood up. Wendy hadn’t known solidarity like this before—and though she still didn’t know what was going on, she finally understood just how important it was to continue to keep in step.

They walked for nearly three miles, until the residential and commercial areas faded from bright lights and landscaping to unkempt gravel and boarded-up windows. Wendy could hear the party long before she could see it—its bass reverberating through the night air. The closer they got, the more people their age joined them in heading toward the huge warehouse at the end of the block.

A group of girls in glittery minidresses ran up behind them. One of them boldly slung her arm around Peter’s waist and surged up to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Nice to see you back, Peter,” she said sultrily.

Peter pushed her off with a friendly smack to her hip. “Go find some trouble somewhere else. Have a nice night, ladies.”

They dashed ahead to wait in line by the door.

Wendy felt sick. How many people did Peter know who had no idea who he really was? How many “special girls” had met him in the middle of the night?

As if reading Wendy’s thoughts, Peter turned to her and said, “I never encourage them, but if they need anything, I’m around. I carry headache meds and umbrellas and these little sticks you can use to make sure no one roofies your drink.”

“That’s … that’s nice,” Wendy said tentatively, glancing at Ominotago behind Peter’s back.

Ominotago shrugged but shook her head like she already knew this and it did not change her opinion of him at all.

Wendy trusted that look more than Peter’s explanation and kept silent as they joined the line.

Minsu licked a finger and smoothed down his eyebrows. Charles watched and nodded when he finished. Fyodor pinched his cheeks until they were softly pink and combed his hair back one last time. Wendy thought it was cute watching them primp like this, and judging from the look on Tinkerbelle’s face, she felt the same.

When they got to the front doors, the bouncers were tall and broad and did actually look a bit like Ominotago and Waatese. Wendy remembered Minsu mentioning that these were Ominotago, Curly, and Waatese’s cousins. They seemed college age, not actual adults, which was a surprise. Instead of forking over a few dollars, Tinkerbelle and Ominotago greeted the bouncers excitedly. The boys scooped them up into tight hugs and slapped Curly on the shoulder. They shook hands with Charles, Minsu, Fyodor, Nibs, and even Peter, though one of them couldn’t resist a tight-lipped frown at having to do so.

“This is Wendy,” Ominotago said, throwing an arm around her shoulders. “You haven’t met her yet, but she’s with us, too.”

The bouncers stamped everyone’s hands and opened the doors.

CHAPTER 12