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The can pops, pouring glitter everywhere in a silvery eruption.
Closing my eyes, I jerk back and try to swat it off with my hand—but it’s useless.
Glitter showers me.
From behind, I hear Miss Joly’s raucous laughter and Elle’s giggles. Spitting a little, shaking my head, I swipe at my eyes, carefully opening them and then looking down at myself.
I’m painted in glitter.
There’s a wall of it down my front, all over my shirt.
All over my slacks.
It’s even in my mouth, and when I shake my head it showers down from my hair.
Sara clutches the near-empty canister, looking up at me sheepishly.
“Sowwy,” she mumbles. “Sowwy, Auggie.”
“It’s okay,” I manage, though just talking makes me nearly choke on more hell-glitter. “No one got hurt. I’ll clean it up.”
“But who’s going to clean you up?” comes from over my shoulder, light with sweet laughter as Elle catches my arm. “Here. There’s a wash station this way. I’m going to steal Auggie for a minute, okay?”
“Okay!”
Nearly blind with glitter, I let Elle pull me to my feet and nudge me toward the wash station. It’s not hard to tell she’s struggling not to bust out laughing again as she wets a paper towel in the sink and starts swiping at my face.
“Wow,” she murmurs. “Didn’t think you’d get this into it.”
“You’re not funny, brat.”
“Liar.” She flashes that adorable smile up at me. “You want to laugh. Admit it.”
“If I inhale too hard,” I say through my teeth, “I’ll be digesting glitter for a solid week.”
Elle giggles and gently draws the paper towel across my brows, cleaning delicately around my eyes. “Sara’s taken a liking to you.”
“She has the charm of a jackal cub. Cute. Scruffy. Unsettling.”
“Oh, please, you aren’t scared of that little thing.”
“Her voice could crack glass.”
“That’s just how kids are. I think you like it.”
I give Elle a sour look. “You’ve made your point. Yes, they’re enjoying themselves.” I glance over at the table I left. Sara’s happily trading a glue stick back and forth with another little girl, both of them spackling their cards with streaks of shimmery stickiness. “I think our target market might be slightly older for actual pen pal activities, but we can certainly create a vertical of secondary merchandise for this age group.”
The next thing that touches my face isn’t the paper towel, but Elle’s lips—brushing a light, chaste kiss to the corner of my mouth before pulling back. I glance back to her, her pink lips shining with traces of silver.
“Thank you,” she murmurs with a sweet smile. “But we’re not done yet. Brush yourself off and go give your little friend her card.”
“You’ve got glitter on your lips.” I brush my thumb to the corner of her mouth. “It’s a good look on you.”
“If you’re nice here, you can do something a little more hands-on about that later.” She grins.
“Does that mean I’m forgiven? And you have no further intention of torturing me?”
“For now,” she says airily—then flings the wet, glitter-crusted paper towel at my chest as she spins on her heel and flits away. “But I have every intention of torturing you.”
