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“Grim?” Willow shakes her head. “Oh, no, it’s beautiful. We light lanterns, and they float into the sky, and—”
“Ah. Fireflies.” I point at her. “Got it.”
I feel bad when she deflates. “Yeah, that’s it. You’re coming though?” Willow looks at me with those big brown eyes of hers. “You don’tneeda date to attend.” But there’s a tone in her voice that suggests I might become a social pariah if I dared show up sans man. “I don’t think Wilder has a date yet. Maybe you could go with him?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I say quickly. Wilder seems exactly like his name suggests—wild. I don’t need that in my life right now. I need calm and focus.
I still can’t get over my dad seeing Owen’s collar. It was such a shock I didn’t even try to explain. Not that it would have helped.
“Are you okay?” Willow asks.
I glance at her and shrug. Brandy has always had a way of making me emotional. “Yeah, I guess.”
She lays her hand on my knee, over the thick blanket. “I’m here if you want to talk.”
“That’s sweet, but I’m fine. Really.”
She looks back at the field and sighs. “The first month is always a little tough. I didn’t want to be here. But it gets better.”
I keep forgetting she’s older than me. She certainly doesn’t look it. “It’s been an adjustment. Big city, small town.”
She pats me again. “Yeah, I bet you’re missing all your old friends. Maybe they can come visit over the holidays?”
I sigh. “Yeah. Maybe.”
Sure, I had friends back in the city. At least, I thought I did. But when shit got real, they jumped ship like the rats on the Titanic.
Guess you never know who your true friends are until you find the wordwhorespray-painted on your locker.
I shake off the awful memory and elbow Kat so she’ll give me more of her brandy. Anything to try to push away these impending tears.
Kat takes back the flask, emptying it before tucking it away. She leans in close, whispering in my ear as the crowd jumps up to celebrate something.
“I heard you just now, talking to Willow.”
“And?”
“And you do know you’re going to the dance withme,right?”
“Uh…no.” I turn to look at her. “You never asked…”
She laughs. “Justas friends.” She hooks her arm through mine. “Us single girls, we’re stronger in a pack.”
“I’m not sure I even want to go.”
“Oh, trust me, you want to go. The appetizers alone are worth it.” She gives me a little wink. “And did I mention they have an open bar?”
“For thewholetown?”
She shrugs. “The Royals like reminding us just how filthy rich they are.”
“Classy.” I shake my head as I watch the guys running around on the football field below. Someone—Oz, maybe—is holding the ball up over his head, and for some reason everyone on his team tries to bury him in a pile of bodies.
I’m guessing he scored a point.
A whistle blows. Below us, most of the crowd begins heading for the stairs.
Thank God, it’s over.
