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Laurel offers a wary, “Mom?”
Rebecca smiles, but as soon as I approach, her eyes stab me with icy daggers. She grabs my sleeve and drags me away from her eavesdropping family. “Vin and Laurel may be quick to forgive you, but you’ll be in trouble with me for a while. How dare you break up with Laurel?”
“I was overwhelmed,” I admit.
“I cheered for you. I hoped you’d be one decent sprout among the forest of many rotten ones, but you—”
“I was wrong.”
“You were abominable! Vin told me you broke Laurel’s heart by telling her you couldn’t be with her because she made you too popular?”
“Yeah, that was not my brightest moment.”
Rebecca huffs and crosses her arms on her chest.
I glance at Laurel. She bites her lip and eyes us with concern, while Vincent’s expression speaksYou’ve earned this and more.
“They won’t help you.” Rebecca’s voice is laden with pitch-black disapproval.
“I am sorry. I will do my best to use my head a little more next time.”
“Next time?” If she were a cat, she’d be arching her back, standing sideways, posing to strike.
I sigh. “I mean to say—”
“I know, I know.” Her voice softens a notch. “And a little won’t cut it. You so much as make Laurel frown, I’ll make your life a living, miserable, insufferable—”
“I won’t. I promise.”
Rebecca scowls. “I know what your kind’s promises are worth. I’ve seen this before.” She throws Vincent a peeved look, and he responds with a wide-arm gesture of what-did-I-do.
The crew thickens around us. People swarm Laurel and Vincent, wiping their faces and powdering their skin one last time before they head out to deliver their own show.
Laurel waves everyone away as if they’re a cloud of gnats and runs over to me.
“I’ll see you in a bit,” she blurts out, ignoring her mother’s displeased foot tapping.
“You got this.” I kiss her forehead, teasing a cute, nervous giggle out of her.
“Thanks. Now hold still.” She rips the tape I stole from her earlier off my neck, making me wince at the sudden pain. “Sorry.” She kisses the stinging spot, planting all kinds of regrets into my chest. I have to wait almost two hours for her to be mine again.
I don’t know where, but Laurel’s got a marker. She wipes my neck with the back of her hand before drawing something.
Rebecca sighs and, walking away, grumbles. “You make me feel so old.”
“What are you drawing?” I ask Laurel.
She caps the marker and sticks it into my hand. “You’ll see. I have to go now.”
Laurel dashes away before I manage to even touch her one more time. I forget about her artwork for a few minutes as I watch her and Vincent deliver a stellar show of their own. Laurel’s back with her Venom, which seems unharmed, thank goodness, but more importantly, she seems to be having fun. Still no mask, still no defenses, just her and the music and as long as Vincent is in good health, they’ll rule the world charts.
“That’s cute.” Hal materializes by my side.
“What’s cute?”
He aims his phone at me and texts me a photo of what Laurel drew on my neck.
Smiling and hopelessly in love, I press my fingers to my skin and watch my rebel light up the night. Her doodle couldn’t be more accurate—a broken heart with a Band-Aid holding the halves together. We’re two halves of one heart, and we’ll be all better soon.
