Keeping my mouth shut was entirely not without difficulty. For one thing, I wasn’t sure what to say to Mack, or even whether it was the proper to broach the subject to her. So I let it pass for the moment and pretended everything was normal, which was something I was particularly good at. Oddly enough, when I saw Mack again in the days after that library incident, I felt relief—for her, at least. She seemed very serene in herself, and her animated mood had me taking more notice of how she smiled during the strangest moments, even when we were both being quiet together, as though she was always recalling some funny thing in the back of her mind. I tried not to gape at her—she was gradually transforming into someone I rarely got to see: a happier, more vibrant version of herself.
Of course, I waited for her. She could have brought the topic up willingly at any time, but her continuing silence spoke volumes of how she wanted to keep this piece of heaven to herself. And I couldn’t blame her for it, either. If a thing of a similar nature hadn’t already happened to me, I would never have been able to empathize with what she wanted; I would have taken offense and never understood the reason behind her secrecy. Irrational as it may seem, sometimes even the best of friends keep things from each other. In time, when she trusted me enough, I was certain she would eventually tell me.
As for my secret—I’d decided that it was best not to let it out, seeing how short-lived my ridiculous preoccupation with Cole had been. Making a colossal fuss over my feelings was the last thing I wanted, and telling Mack now guaranteed that. But it didn’t make seeing Cole at school any easier. That Wednesday afternoon, much to my distress, I found him waiting in the hall for me after Spanish. He flashed his uneven smile at me and it sidetracked me for a moment before I reminded myself of what I heard about him in the girls’ bathroom. Meantime girl, meantime girl, meantime girl.
“Hey, you,” he said, his grin widening.
It wasn’t fair that he looked so good, I heard my heart crack. “Hi,” I said dully.
“How was your day?”
“Good,” I murmured, frowning. The nerve. “What’s up?”
If he had heard the coolness in my tone, he brushed it off. “I’m giving you a ride to work.”
“Oh.” I pursed my lips, my temper suddenly flaring. “Well, I’m not going to work today. I’m joining the hallway decoration with Mack,” I lied.
His features registered a faint hint of disappointment—a slight furrow in his forehead, the tightening in his gray-blue eyes—and it was all I could do not to take my words back. “I didn’t know you were into that,” he said.
“Yeah. I’m all about Spirit Week,” I muttered. “Go Seniors.”
He snorted. “Right. Like I can believe that. Maybe we could hang out later?”
I flinched. Meantime girl. “Um, I kind of have this Lit paper that’s due tomorrow, so I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?” He insisted, eyebrows arching. “Afraid that I’ll distract you?”
My stomach clenched. “I don’t get distracted.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
I clenched my teeth. “Cole, really. I have to—”
“Katie, I’m kidding.” He hung is head, peering at my face. “Why are you in such a mood today? You okay?”
His warm gray-blue eyes and that unmistakable trace of concern in his voice were trying to undo me completely. I got hold of an ounce of self-control and nodded curtly. “Yes.”
“Hmm. Must be all this spirit.” He smirked, then bobbed his head. “Alright. We’ll hang out later this week.”
“Fine.” I strained to keep the hope from my voice. He walked off then, with no idea that I just stood there staring after him, very close to crying.
Squashing these warm feelings was going to be a big problem.
I needed to do something fast. I needed to stop falling further in love with Cole.
I pulled off the snap decision immediately the next day. On the off chance that Cole might be waiting for me outside my classroom again, I told Mack that after class I wanted to see what costumes she had come up with for Saturday’s dance. At first she was reluctant, saying that I might back out once I saw my costume—this I should have taken as a warning that she had violated our agreement about my restrictions, but I was too desperate for what I wanted to do that, before I knew it, I promised her I would never cancel on her despite what the costumes looked like. She agreed to meet me in the hall outside my classroom after Spanish.
Seeing the actual costumes was a different matter altogether. I realized I’d been too hasty in promising her anything.
I was fully aware, as I sat on the bed in her room, that my mouth was hanging open in shock. But I just couldn’t help it. I gaped at that thing in her hands as she held it up for me to see.
“What do you think?” She chirped, a little too enthusiastically. “Brilliant, huh?”
Brilliant was the last adjective that I would use in describing it. The dress was…well, unusual. It was black, it had a tight corset bodice that was lacy and cut too low at the front, and it had short, gauzy, tattered fringes that formed a skirt. The black lace straps were off the shoulders, and were made with short, sheer sparkly fringes that matched the skirt. In short, it was a nightmare. I will not be wearing that slut of a dress to the dance.
“Yes, you will,” Mack snapped; I didn’t realize I had spoken the thought aloud. “You promised. Besides, you have to see it on yourself before you make assumptions.”
“I don’t need to try it on first to know that I won’t like it, Mack. I mean, look at it. Did you run out of fabric or something?”
“Oh, that’s hysterical. And what do you mean, look at it? It’s gorgeous.”
I gawped at her. Apparently, all her warm feelings for Ty were impairing her ability to think straight. I fought the impulse to slap her awake. “Mack, that thing is ridiculous.”
She rolled her eyes. “Shut your damn piehole and put it on.”
Grumbling an oath, I stood from the bed and snatched the dress from her. She eagerly helped me into the thing, which was tinier than I’d thought it would be, that it required an enormous amount of effort from us both to keep from ripping the dress apart (though the thought had certainly crossed my mind more than once). When I had finally squeezed into the dress, Mack bit her lip with an odd look on her face.
“Cole is going to flip,” she said morosely, clucking her tongue.
Scowling, I hurried over to the full-length mirror that hung at the back of her bedroom door to get a look for myself.
It was…different. Not worse than I had feared, but bad nonetheless. The neck was lower than I had expected, and the corset hugged my body so tightly that it hurt just breathing. It also made my chest look bigger that I was almost falling out of it. The tattered fairy skirt was extremely short and was made of a thin, sheer organza, which didn’t hide my pink panties underneath.
“You’ll need matching black lace undies,” Mack said, lingering over the same thought. “But, wow, Katie. He’s not gonna want to let you out of his sight even once.”
“I’m not wearing this to the dance, Mack.”
“Yes, you are. And you know you want to see the look on his face when he sees you in this.” She smirked at me in the mirror. “You’ll have to wear high-heeled peeptoes, too.”
I wanted to tear the ghastly dress off me; it was starting to give me wild ideas. “Mack, I’m telling you—”
“You’re wearing it on Saturday, Katie. I’ll get you the underwear tomorrow.”
I sighed dismally. I was not going to win this argument. “Well, at least tell me what I’m supposed to be.”
“D-uh. You’re a fairy.”
I glared at her dubiously. “Aren’t fairies supposed to have bright spring colors or something?” I was thinking of petty little Tinkerbell in Peter Pan. “And wings?”
Mack rolled her eyes. “You’re a wicked fairy, obviously,” she said snidely. “And of course you have wings, too.” At this, she went to her closet and retrieved a pair of rhinestone-silver chiffon fairy wings. She assisted me in slipping the straps on, probably knowing that I might do some serious damage to them once I get my hands on them. With the costume now put together, I examined my reflection in the mirror again. It was undoubtedly one of the most distasteful things I’ve ever seen. Frowning, something pulled at the edges of my consciousness, but it was too far for me to get an actual hold on it. But the discomfort crept up my chest.
I met Mack’s eyes in the mirror. “You know what this dress reminds me of? One of those flimsy things that women get for their husbands…you know, for fantasy role-playing.” I blushed despite myself.
So did Mack. The guilt was written all over her face.
I pursed my lips. “Where exactly did you get this costume, Mack?” My voice wavered.
She winced. “Well… Don’t get mad, okay?” I waited quietly, already dreading it. She managed a small sheepish smile. “Both our costumes are Playboy signature stuff.”
“Mack!!” I stared at her in horror. “No!” For a second, I could hear Greta’s voice ringing joyously in my head. What were the words she used? Oh, right. Skank and hussy. Heat spread in my face. “Oh, Mack!”
She crossed her arms across her chest. “What’s the big deal? You want to see my costume?”
I was feeling too dismayed to fight. “Never mind. I’m not going to the dance in this.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Suddenly, she turned livid. “I scoured the net for days just to find these costumes! Dammit, Gray, toughen up. It’s just for one night.”
“Couldn’t you have chosen something less skeezy, though?” I groaned, dropping down on her bed. “People are talking about me enough as it is. As if I need any more of that.”
“What the hell are you talking about??”
It was a terrible slip. But there was no other way around it now, and avoiding the subject was useless as Mack’s sharp eyes were already fixed on me. So I sighed deeply and related to her that brief encounter with two of the Bees at the bathroom yesterday, and everything else I’ve heard there.
“And you believed Greta Chasin?” Mack scoffed after my account. She shook her head. “You know she also said that she and Ryan Gosling were related.”
“Ava told her, Mack. Ava is Astrid’s friend, remember?”
“And she can’t lie?”
“Why would she lie?” I countered. “There’s no point in her doing that. And we both know that Cole had been with Astrid at Harvest.”
“But the guy could just be crushing on her—”
“Exactly my point, Mackenzie. He could just be crushing on her, as well as crushing on other girls. He’s not the first guy to crush on a million different girls.” I looked at her, my heart heavy. “Don’t you see? He’s not ready for anything. I don’t want to be the Meantime girl.”
Mack went silent, and I could sense that she was giving what I’d just said some serious consideration. She sank down on the bed next to me. “But, still, Katie. There’s no reason to jump into any conclusions yet. What are the chances that you could be right, or wrong?”
“What makes you so confident that I’m not right?”
“I’m not confident about that,” she said thoughtfully. “Of course, I still have my doubts. But your reasoning is too biased—you want to believe that Cole’s playing around so you can reject him and reclaim some semblance of control over the situation. I understand it; you only want to protect yourself. But, Katie. What if you’re wrong? What if Cole has deeper feelings for you? Think of the things you’ll miss out on!”
I rejected that vehemently. Her words were teaching me to hope, and I couldn’t have that. “No, Mack.”
She gave me a sad look. “If you could’ve only seen the way he looked at you in that pie contest. Maybe you would be convinced, too.”
I rolled my eyes. “I was there too, remember?”
“Yeah, but I’d bet a million dollars you were thinking about more sinful things at the time.”
I winced, recalling all too clearly every detail of that day.
“Come on, Kate.” She elbowed me lightly. “Show him on Saturday what you can be.”
“What, a floozy in a Playboy costume?”
She nudged me harder. “No. Someone attractive. Someone sexy. Someone he can imagine himself with. I told you, he needs to realize you’re a girl… Although I think he already has some idea…” She giggled. “He’s going to have his hands full all night.”
I blushed deeply to the roots of my hair. “Mackenzie.”
“I didn’t mean that quite literally, but that’s an interesting thought,” she snickered. “I meant that he’s going to be busy warding off the guys that would flock all over you at the dance. Jeez, Katie. You and your hormones.”
I didn’t really want the guys-flocking-all-over-me part, but the thought of Cole being in that situation was almost enough to convince me to rethink the dance. Mack must have seen the indecision on my face, because she hastily drove the stake home.
“Besides, you can’t just abandon your date now, can you? He won that bet fair and square.”
I glanced at her, and she beamed. “You suck,” I muttered helplessly.
“Hah.”
She was the devil incarnate, and she knew it. I let out an exaggerated sigh. “Fine, Mack, you win. Can I see your costume now?”
* * * *
It was crucial to plan the weekend carefully. I arranged a sleepover at Mack’s house for Saturday just to prevent Mom or Grams from seeing the wretched costume I’d be wearing—I couldn’t even begin to imagine Grams’ reaction if she saw the darn dress. She was probably going to impale me alive if she found out.
With the details all figured out, the only thing left was to talk to Cole about the dance. My stomach flipped at the thought. I haven’t seen him since Wednesday afternoon, this owing largely to the fact that I had sought to evade any opportunity of seeing him, but I knew I was going to have to face him one way or another, and soon. Only, I didn’t expect it to be so soon. By some ill stroke of luck, Shep decided to do his numbers that Friday evening and announced that we were closing early. This was an unwelcome break—I wanted to put off talking to Cole as long as I could, and the sudden free time forced me to confront my lack of choices. I had to do it now.
I was almost at the door of the restaurant when Adrian caught up with me, steering me aside by the elbow. I blinked up at him, wary.
“You want to go do something?” He asked, his smile wide. “It’s still early.”
“Um,” I tried smiling, too. “I can’t today. I have to…be somewhere.”
“Really?”
“Yup.”
He smirked, his eyes kind. “Well. Can I at least give you a ride home?”
I bit my lip.
“Come on, I’m not going to make you walk home,” he said. “Your big dog isn’t here yet anyway.”
I frowned. “Huh?”
Adrian chuckled, shaking his head. “What, you think I haven’t noticed?” His tone sounded wry. “He’s a good watch dog, I’ll give him that.”
“What are you talking about?”
He rolled his eyes. “Your friend. You know, the guy with the angry eyes. He doesn’t trust everything that’s twelve inches of your reach, does he?”
I gritted my teeth. “When you finally decide to make some sense, let me know.”
He laughed. “Never mind that. Let’s go.”
Strange, but Adrian was a bit too chipper in the car on the way home. And even stranger, he kept passing me these side glances that seemed to say he knew what was going on better than I did. Oh my God, I was becoming paranoid.
At the front of my house, I thanked him nimbly, reaching for the door, but before I could duck out of the car, the look on his face stopped me. He was staring past me out the passenger’s side window, an expression of obvious annoyance etched across his usually amiable features.
“Well, there he is,” he muttered in such a low voice, I wondered if he even meant for me to hear it. “Angry, as usual.”
I followed his gaze, and was stunned to see Cole standing by the open door of his Equinox in the driveway of their house, looking in our direction. His features were devoid of emotion, cold and detached, but I could make out the hardness in his eyes even in the distance. Nevertheless, my heart did its triple rhythm, a rush of anxiety almost instantly filling me. I fumbled weakly on the car door. “Thanks for the lift,” I said again.
“Anytime.”
I could feel Adrian's gaze on me as I got out of the car and stood back on the sidewalk. He popped the horn in a tiny bleat before he eased the car away, leaving me to fend for myself. Just to keep from meeting his gaze, I followed the silver Mustang’s progress until it rounded the corner of the street. Then I let out a heavy sigh.
Cole didn’t move for a minute. He just glared at me from across the street, his expression unreadable. Then, in a swift movement, he slammed the door of the Equinox shut and slowly made his way over to me. When he reached me on the sidewalk, I turned to face him, braving his strange countenance. What was evoking this sort of reaction from him? I was baffled by it.
He couldn’t look at me yet; his eyes raked over the top of my head. They were dark today, almost black in the twilight. “You’re early,” he murmured softly.
I nodded. “Shep’s meeting with his accountant. We closed at five-thirty.”
“I was just about to go into town to get you,” he said.
“Oh.” My anxiety eased up somewhat. “Uh… Adrian—”
“Yeah. I saw.”
“Right.” This was harder than I thought. I took a deep silent breath. “Er, listen… About tomorrow…”
He met my gaze then, and for the first time I saw the force of anger in his eyes. “Are you backing out?” He asked tightly. “He asked you to the dance, didn’t he?”
“No,” I said quickly. “No. I was just going to ask you what our arrangement was for tomorrow.”
His eyebrows shot upward. “Arrangement?”
“Yes. I mean, are we going to meet up at the dance?”
His face cleared a little, the anger fading. “Of course not. I’m picking you up.”
“Okay then,” I said. “I’ll be dressing up at Mack’s house, so you should pick me up there.”
“That’s fine.” He hung his head, his expression still ominous, so I managed a tentative smile for him. He faltered, his eyes somehow growing soft.
“You should've just called me today, you know,” he muttered roughly. “To pick you up at work.”
“I know.” I smirked. “I was going to walk, but Adrian intercepted me at the door.”
“Intercepted?” He echoed, doubtful. “I’d bet he more like charmed you.”
I rolled my eyes.
A corner of his mouth edged up. “So…he didn’t ask you to the dance?”
“No,” I said. “And even if he did, I would have turned him down.”
“Would you?” He prompted, and for a second the question confused me. Cole shrugged passively. “He seems to like you a whole lot, and you obviously like him… It kind of makes sense for you to go together.”
I pursed my lips. “Well, I already have a date.”
“Yeah?” A slow smile crept across his face. “Anyone I know?”
“Just this guy. He’s sort of an idiot.” I stared back at him pointedly.
He grinned. “You’d better watch out for guys like that.”
“Too late now.”
He laughed, his shoulders shaking. “He must be good-looking then.”
“Not that good-looking.” That had him stumped, and I grinned. He beamed his uneven smile, and reached out to tug at my hair.
“I take it back,” he murmured, his tone faint. “You are a tease.”
So are you, I wanted to say, but didn’t dare.
* * * *
“You’re a wreck.”
I glanced up. Mack was standing behind me, glowering at me in the vanity mirror, her hand poised upward with a makeup brush.
“How am I supposed to work on you when you’re all red like that? Take a breath, psycho.” She replaced the brush on top of the vanity with an exaggerated huff and rechecked her own makeup.
I envied her then, because she was the queen of calm. Without a moment’s hesitation she had put her face on and slipped into her costume, a Playboy version of Betty Boop: tiny red strapless dress, white garter with the red heart on her thigh, black curly bob, and red heels. And she looked amazingly gorgeous as she always does. While I, on the other hand, was still lounging around in my underwear with only half my makeup on, unable to sit still and blushing all over. It had been like this pretty much the whole day.
“I can’t do this,” I told her, taking a huge gulp of air like she’d advised. “Even my butterflies have butterflies.”
Mack snickered. “Why are you so nervous?”
Uh, maybe because it was my first date with Cole and he was going to see me in such a racy outfit? What a stupid question. “I don’t know.”
“Well, you’d better get over it. Cole’s going to be here any minute.”
“That’s really going to calm me down, thanks a lot.” Already my heart had started racing again.
“Okay, seriously? You’re getting on my nerves,” Mack snapped. “Stop that right now.” She picked up the powder brush and immediately went back to work on my face.
Fifteen tedious minutes later, I was done. I glared at my reflection in Mack’s full-length mirror, trying to look past the fact that the costume and the glittery makeup made me look older than seventeen. Much older. Somehow, it was a little disturbing. The only good thing I had noticed was that my panties weren’t showing anymore—thank God Mack had gotten me black lace boylegs and a matching strapless lace bra.
“You look fantastic, you know,” she remarked, recognizing the doubt in my face. “And those shoes!” She pointed at the four-inch black peep-toe pumps I had on. “They make your legs look ten feet long.”
“So that’s why I feel like a freak.”
She sighed heavily and met my eyes. “You do look great, Katie. Honestly.”
I pursed my lips. No matter what else I thought, this was Mack’s handiwork. I certainly didn’t want to hurt her feelings. “Thanks. You look amazing yourself.”
“Oh, I know.” She pouted her lips at me in the mirror, Betty Boop style. I smiled, suddenly wondering if she was going with Ty tonight. I ached to ask her, but I had made a pact with myself that I was going to wait for her to bring it up on her own.
“Good thing your parents aren’t here, though,” I said, slipping on my wool coat. “I don’t think your dad would let us go if he caught us in these.”
“Thank heavens for Halloween,” she grinned. Her parents had taken Jillie and Rory trick-or-treating around town. I think she had planned all of this very well.
Cole arrived earlier than expected. He patiently waited out front, leaning against the passenger side of his Equinox, and the sight of him made my heart immediately flutter in my ears. He was wearing a light-blue button-down workshirt layered over a long-sleeved gray undershirt and dark blue pants, a navy knit beanie covering his head. I gave Mack a quick glance, and she met my gaze, her eyebrows already arched. Cole was wearing Prison Break garb.
He had his dark eyes on me as we approached, his brows furrowed. When I reached him, his careful gaze went over my face. My heart slammed hard against my chest. “Hi,” he said in a low voice. His roaming perusal took in my dark coat and he frowned. “What are you supposed to be, a homeless person?”
Mack’s laugh pealed through the awkwardness, and Cole passed her an unsure glance. “Homeless person,” she mumbled between giggles, shaking her curly bob.
I fought back a smile, and raised the silver chiffon wings I was holding for him to see. “Fairy,” I answered, giving Mack a warning glance. She grinned impishly at me.
“Oh. Okay.” His eyes lingered on Mack. “Aren’t you supposed to be with someone?”
If Mack had been caught unaware by the question, she hid it perfectly, though I noted the sudden color in her cheeks. She smirked at Cole. “You sure have a way to make a girl feel welcome.”
“I thought—”
“Let’s go,” she interjected, already opening the door to the backseat.
So she still wasn’t planning on telling me. Two can play this game, Mackenzie. Cole gave me a questioning gaze and I shrugged. I was good at pretending I didn’t know anything.
The first few minutes of the ride to school was deathly quiet, save for the radio playing in the background. I let my mind wander, seeking to distract myself from my nerves. Even my hands felt cold. Mack kept silent in the back, her thoughts probably circling around the fact that Cole almost had a slip in front of me. A tiny seed of irritation sprouted in me then—if Cole was allowed to know that she was dating Ty, then why was I being kept in the dark? Did she really think I was that stupid?
The voice in my head argued that I was doing the same thing to her in not telling her about Cole. But that was different. I was going to tell her everything—not exactly right this moment, but eventually, like sometime in the near future. I knew I was only justifying my own intentions, but I ought to extend the same concession to Mack. She was my best friend, after all. Maybe she did need the time.
Cole cleared his throat, weary of the silence. “Wasn’t Betty Boop a prostitute?” He asked Mack, glancing at her in the rear-view mirror.
“No,” Mack answered indignantly. “For your information, she was a flapper. She was the first cartoon to ever display the natural shape of a woman.”
“I always thought she was a courtesan or something,” Cole said with a half-smile.
“She was a sex icon, that’s why men back then thought she was a woman of loose morals,” Mack said informatively.
“Ah.” Cole nodded, but his tone was obviously patronizing. “But don’t you think your choice of a costume’s a bit too daring?”
At that I blushed scarlet. I didn’t miss the disapproval that colored his tone. “What do you mean?” I asked him.
“It’s just that it’s too—” He looked away, clearly uncomfortable. “Sexy.”
Mack laughed out loud. “I’ll take that as a compliment, Weston. But I didn’t know you were checking me out.”
“I wasn’t.” Somehow, his complexion darkened. Was he blushing? It was hard to tell in the dark.
Mack giggled, enjoying his embarrassment. “Well. Wait till you see Katie’s costume. Your eyes will pop.”
My heart stopped. Cole looked over at me, his forehead crinkled. For a moment he seemed…worried. His eyes ever so briefly dropped to the neck of my coat, but I had snugly belted it around me that there was no way he could even see past my collarbone. I tried to smirk. “Mack chose it for me. I wanted to go as a medieval chambermaid.”
“And it was a darn great choice, too,” Mack added, smug. “I promise, you’re gonna love it. Hell, everyone’s gonna love it.”
His frown deepened. He didn’t say anything for the rest of the ride, but I knew him enough to detect that dour look on his face. I was beginning to get slightly annoyed, when Mack got bored and interrupted the stillness by humming with the song playing on the radio.
“I didn’t figure you for a Neil Young fan,” she told Cole, her voice musical. “Heck, I didn’t even think you liked Neil Young.”
“I don’t,” he said stiffly. “Just this one song.”
I was too distracted to pay attention to the small talk, but a line in the unfamiliar song caught my ear.
I wanna live with a cinnamon girl; I could be happy the rest of my life with a cinnamon girl. A dreamer of pictures, I run in the night. You see us together chasing the moonlight… My cinnamon girl.
My face grew hot, and I glanced at Cole despite myself. He didn’t meet my gaze, though one side of his lips was curled up in a smile.
“What exactly is a cinnamon girl?” Mack wondered.
“Nobody knows for sure,” Cole said, shrugging. “But I’d like to think that the song is about meeting that one special girl who turns my world upside down.”
I turned to look out the window, my cheeks burning.
“Wow—Cole Weston, a romantic?” Mack snickered. “Who would’ve guessed?”
He smirked. “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me.”
“I’d say,” I muttered with more acid than I intended. Cole caught my tone and turned to me.
“I told you, you only have to ask,” he replied, smiling. “But, not tonight. This is my night to ask questions.”
Mack made a gagging sound. “Then please don’t start yet—I’d like to be out of hearing range when all the disgustingly mushy stuff comes out.”
Cole chuckled, turning his eyes back on the road. I couldn’t seem to stop blushing.
We soon pulled in to school and parked a little ways off the gym, where the dance was held. I glanced around the wide student lot nervously. People were just beginning to arrive; a few were already milling around the parking lot, garbed in various costumes, greeting friends and exclaiming over each other before going in. My stomach dropped. I suddenly thought of a million reasons why I shouldn’t be in this dance wearing this dress.
Honing in on my reluctance, Cole glanced at me. “You okay?”
I merely nodded. Panic ate at my insides.
He was unconvinced, but he shrugged and got out of the car. Gathering my wits about me, I sighed to the inevitable and slipped off my coat. Mack stifled a giggle.
“He’s not going to bite, you know,” she said brightly. “And your dress is perfect, alright? You worry too much.”
And for good reason, I thought glumly. My door opened and Cole solicitously offered his hand to me. This brought me courage somehow.
Until I got out of the car to stand in front of him.
Several expressions flitted across his face, each one changing quickly into another. When he saw me, his eyes grew wide, but almost instantly he fought to hide his surprise. Unheedingly, his intense gaze took in my appearance, slowly going over my hair and then down to my dress. His eyes lingered on the low neckline a second longer than necessary. I shifted on my feet, growing extremely self-conscious. Realization dawned on his face; his lips pursed and his gaze tightened.
“Wow,” he murmured, clearing his throat. “That dress is…short.”
I looked down at the ground, embarrassed. My hands gripped tightly on the straps of the fairy wings. “Help me with this, will you?”
“Uh…sure.” He took the thin wings and held it out to me, and I carefully slipped my arms through the straps. Easing it up to my shoulders, his fingers trailed across my skin. A thrill ran up my spine, and I trembled.
“You’re cold,” he observed, frowning. “Maybe you should just keep your coat on.”
Mack snorted, stepping in between us. “Don’t be such a prude, Cole. You’re going to ruin all my hard work.”
Cole glared at her. “You sound like you’re trying to pimp her off.”
“And if I am,” Mack replied haughtily, “what’s it to you?”
“Mack.” I wanted to stomp on her foot.
“Oh, forget it,” she muttered in an exasperated tone, turning to me. “Obviously, it’s useless making a blind man see. Listen, I see Hopeful and Mandy—I’ll try to catch up with you inside, okay?” Without waiting for an answer, she shot Cole a last withering look and stormed off, high heels clicking loudly on the lot blacktop.
“She’s out of her mind,” Cole grumbled, glaring after her.
“She’s Mack.”
“What the hell did she mean by all that blind man crap?”
“Beats me.”
He didn’t say anything, and when I looked up, he was staring at me, his brows furrowed deeply. Growing flustered, I frowned back.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he said and looked away. He held out his hand. “Should we go in?”
I slipped my hand in his without a word, and he headed the way to the gym, interlacing his long fingers loosely with mine. Walking alongside him, I delighted at the feel of our hands together. It felt so natural, and perfect somehow; his big hand enveloped mine in a warm, trusting grasp, as though we’ve always been holding each other’s hand. His strides were long and easy, and I tried to keep up with him but it was hard rushing in heels; noticing this, he slowed his walk to match mine. I smiled up at him at his consideration. His dark, stormy eyes grew soft, and his lips curled up in a smirk.
It wasn’t until we reached the school lawns bordering the gym that this short truce ended. A large group of guys from the football varsity were hanging around the entrance, jockeying among themselves. Before we even closed in on them, I already felt the hard stares. I kept my eyes averted, not wanting to meet any accusing glare, any judging perusal. From somewhere to our left, I heard a loud wolf-whistle, and I winced. Cole’s hand tightened around mine. He drew me closer to his side.
“This was a bad idea,” he muttered dismally.
The statement stung in a way it shouldn’t. The combination of nerves and mortification was already too much that the off-hand remark irritated the hell out of me. I gritted my teeth, waiting until we were past the jocks, but once we were inside the dimly lit gym, I snatched my hand from his grasp. “Don’t overthink it—it’s just a bet.”
Cole turned to me, confused. Then he quickly shook his head. “I didn’t mean being here with you, silly. I meant your costume.”
“My costume?”
“Come on, Katie,” he said calmly. “Have you even seen what you’re wearing?”
His tone held a hint of condescension it made my temper spark. I folded my arms across my chest and glared up at him. “You act like I’m the only one here wearing a short dress,” I muttered. “Look around, Cole. Half the girls here are in even tinier costumes, but I don’t see you attacking them.”
His jaw clenched. “I just don’t like it on you.”
The rejection in his gaze was so blatant, tears burned in my throat. “I don’t need your approval.”
His frown deepened. “This isn’t like you at all, Kate.”
“Don’t think for one minute that you know anything about me,” I snapped angrily.
“Right,” he mumbled. “Because, obviously, I don’t.”
I quickly looked away, fighting the tears back. It was stupid, arguing over something I, too, had hated to begin with—he was right, it was a bad idea wearing the stupid costume. But, a secret part of me had also desperately wished for the picture Mack had painted—that tonight Cole would see me as someone who was attractive and desirable. Someone he could want. Now I know that whatever I do with myself, it would never happen. My throat tightened.
I guess, to him, I would always be just the plain girl across the street. Someone he could be with when there was no one else to hang out with, someone whom he doesn’t have to explain his reasons to, someone steadfast in the sidelines while he goes on looking for the girl who will be everything he has ever wanted. And I will remain his someone in the meantime.
All of a sudden I felt like the biggest idiot.
“Kate,” Cole started, his voice softer. “I’m sorry.”
He even seemed to know the line of where my thoughts had gone. Pathetic. I shook my head resolutely, avoiding his eyes. “Let’s just forget it.”
“But Kate—”
“Katie Gray? Is that you?”
It was probably what we needed right then, an interruption, and space for me to figure things out rightly. But a hint of irritation crept into me all the same. I looked up at the voice, and beneath the top hat and the black trench coat, I recognized the guy immediately—it was Mark Hirshenson, captain of the lacrosse team, and my Chemistry lab partner. He had walked up to us wearing a clean smile, the surprise in his eyes undisguised. He pushed past Cole to stand in front of me, his gaze appreciative as it wandered openly over my front. “Wow—I almost didn’t recognize you.”
And I almost fired back that on a regular day he didn’t usually speak to me unless it was for a request to finish the lab work, but I rose above the urge. I tried to smile back but it would have been useless anyway; he was staring at my breasts. “Hey Mark.”
“You wanna dance with me?”
“Uh—”
“Not now, Hirsh,” Cole snapped. “Go away.”
Mark glanced at him, startled. “Weston. I didn’t see you there.”
“And who could blame you? You were distracted.” The glare Cole gave him was almost murderous.
Mark grinned, oblivious. “That I was.” His gaze flicked perceptively down to my neckline again. “You’re looking hot tonight, Gray.”
I flinched. “Thanks.”
“Who would’ve guessed you’ve been hiding all this underneath your school clothes?”
“Hey, do you mind?” Cole growled, advancing on Mark, and I grabbed his arm on impulse, afraid that he might do the idiot bodily harm before the dance had even started. Mark blinked up at him, confused for a moment, then his expression cleared.
“Oh, are you two together?” He asked dumbly.
“Yes,” Cole hissed, gingerly pulling me to stand behind him.
“Well, I didn’t know,” Mark muttered snidely, then snuck another look back at me. “Save me a dance later, alright Gray?” He winked and sauntered off toward the refreshments table.
Cole rubbed his temple, shaking his head. “Frickin’ unbelievable.”
I cringed at the harshness of his tone, then let out a sigh. “I’m officially about ready to leave now.”
He glanced down at me. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know you’d attract this much attention.”
“Mack might have hinted at it and I probably didn’t listen.”
“Unbelievable.” This time there was a smile to his voice. Hesitantly, I met his gaze. He was smirking thoughtfully, his dark eyes swimming with bemusement. Swiftly, he reached for my hand. “Come on.”
“We’re leaving?” I asked, hopeful.
“No,” he said with a half-smile. “We’re dancing.”
I balked. The spacious, graveyard-themed gym was now almost in full capacity, the makeshift dance floor at the center already packed with costumed bodies eagerly moving to the frenetic beat of a pop song. I gripped tightly on Cole’s hand. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to see more people now.
He gave my hand an answering squeeze. “We’ll stay at the fringes of the floor, okay?”
I nodded gratefully, and followed him around the crowd until we stopped at a dark spot on the edge of the dance floor. A slow song started, and Cole chuckled to himself, shaking his head at a thought. I was about to ask what was amusing him when all of a sudden he pulled me close and robbed me of all my thoughts completely. Smirking down at me, he laced my arms around his neck as I stared back at him in bewilderment. Then he slid his hands down my shoulders to my sides, wounding his arms around my waist just below my fairy wings, drawing me up against him.
My senses spun. Every inch of me seemed to have become completely aware of him: how good he smelled, how solid his shoulders felt in my arms, and even how his usually smooth jaw was shadowed by the barest hint of stubble. He didn’t shave today, I thought trivially. His body was so warm, but I shivered, and it had nothing to do with the cold draft that blew in from the open exit doors.
His arms tightened around me. “You should have worn your coat,” he murmured against my hair.
Smiling, I hid my face in his neck and closed my eyes, inhaling his sweet familiar scent. “No.”
He dipped his head, and I felt his mouth against my ear. I thought he was going to say something, but his parted lips traced along my earlobe, his breath a soft whisper on my skin.
I could have pushed him away then, certain that I was going to have tortured dreams about this moment for nights to come, but I didn’t. Instead, I wound my arms tighter around him to hold him closer, and began to pretend. Pretend that we were here together not because of a bet, that it was me whom he talked to on the phone at night, that he felt for me all that I was feeling for him. It wasn’t that complicated—like I said, I was good at pretending. Never mind that this was going to cost me so much more later when reality resurfaces. What mattered to me right then was that my mind, my body, and my heart were all about holding Cole.
He must have sensed my eagerness; he raised his head slightly and pressed his lips to my temple. “Still cold?”
“No,” I mustered, light-headed. “I’m all warm now.”
“Good.” He sounded smug. “I’d have to say your best friend has gone a little haywire.”
I smirked. “A little? Try a lot. Sometimes I don’t even have the vaguest idea what’s going through her head.”
“Sounds a bit like someone I know,” he teased.
“You know what they say,” I chided. “Birds of the same feather, and all that.”
He chuckled, nodding. “Though I have to admit, the mystery is kind of a turn on.”
“Whose mystery? Mack’s?”
He burst out laughing. “No,” he murmured, giving me a squeeze. “Yours.”
I felt my cheeks blaze.
“So tell me,” he said softly. “What possessed you to submit to Mack’s whims to dress you up tonight? We’ve already established that she’s the crazy one.”
I smiled against his skin. “I was just trying to step out of the box.”
“Really,” he muttered. “And what happened to the play-safe girl I know?”
“Sometimes it’s healthy to take risks,” I said, shrugging.
“Some risk.”
I lifted my head to look up at him. His face was only inches away. “You really don’t like my costume?” I asked, studying his features.
His eyebrows rose. “I thought I was the only one who could ask questions tonight?”
“Answer me anyway.”
He sighed, his warm minty breath fanning my cheek. His expression grew serious. “Truthfully?” He began, meeting my gaze. His ocean eyes were even darker than usual in the shadows of the gym. “It’s not that I don’t like it—I mean, I am a guy, too…and we do go crazy for this sort of thing…”
I bit my lip, my face burning.
“But…” His eyebrows drew together. “If it were just me doing the leering all night, then it’s fine,” he went on, his voice suddenly rough. “But if it’s making pricks like Jeff Patoshak and Mark Hirshenson antsy, then I’m going to have a big problem with it.”
I carefully let this sink in. He probably meant that I was safe in his head compared to those other guys—that I didn’t have to worry about him having raunchy thoughts about me. Perversely enough, it wasn’t much of a comfort to know that he saw me like that. “How very chivalrous of you,” I murmured half-heartedly.
He smirked. “Believe me, it has nothing to do with chivalry.”
I gazed back at him, surprised. “Really?”
He nodded, his mouth a hard line. His fingers clutched at my waist. “If you knew my real thoughts about you and your costume, trust me, you’d be running the other way.”
My mouth went dry. “Not chivalrous?”
“Not even an ounce,” he said gruffly.
Something gleamed in his hooded eyes—something dark and sensual. My stomach churned, all my insides turning into liquid warmth.
He reached a hand up to my face, the back of his fingers stroking delicately along my cheek. “You’re blushing.”
“I can’t help it,” I muttered ruefully. He gave a low chuckle.
“Kate,” he whispered. “I’ve been—”
“Mind if I interrupt this cozy little set-up?” Somebody abruptly chirped from behind me.
I instantly cringed at the sound of that voice, already etched firmly in the worst of my memories. Hustling past in a flurry of white lace, Greta Chasin seemed to float from the edge of the dance floor, breathtaking in a pearl-studded wedding dress. Her misty eyes were focused on Cole. “Of course, I’d hate to intrude.”
Cole glanced at her, confused. “Hey Greta.”
She flipped her long hair over her shoulder and tugged lightly on his arm, in a not too subtle effort to loosen his hold on me. Passing me a furtive look, her eyes widened. “Katie Gray?” She uttered, disbelief coloring her sultry tone. “My, you look…wild.”
I gritted my teeth, impervious to the insult in her voice. Pasting a weak smile on my face, I carefully stepped away from Cole’s arms. He frowned, his puzzled gaze following me. “Greta,” I acknowledged.
Her calculating eyes held a gleam of triumph, her perfect lips curved in a sweet smile. “Anyway,” she said, ignoring me and turning back to Cole. “Can I just steal you for a moment, please? You know you asked Astrid to save you a dance.”
Something tightened in my chest, clenching into a spasm around my heart. I swallowed and quickly looked away. It wasn’t unexpected; I’ve known all along that this was going to come up sooner or later.
And so she remains the perfect friend, the constant stand-in, the secret lover, settling for a kind pat and goodbye smile as she watches him walk away into the arms of someone else.
I was a fool to hope. And it was stupid to think that things were different.
Cole was staring at me, registering the obvious change in my expressions. I tried to smile for him, but it was a weak attempt; it wouldn’t surprise me if I only managed a grimace, with the way I felt.
“Come on, Cole. Astrid is waiting for you,” Greta insisted, clinging to his arm.
How perfect. It was the opening he needed. A troubled frown lingered on his smooth forehead. “I don’t know, Greta,” he said, but he was saying it to me. As though he needed my permission; what a silly thing to think.
So I smiled again. “Go ahead,” I told him encouragingly, starting to back away.
He took a step forward. “Kate—”
“I’m going to look for Mack. I’ll see you later, okay?” And I turned around before I could read his eyes and hurt myself further, before I could pause to think about the implications of Greta’s exultant parting smile.
* * * *
I found myself a safe place on a row of bleachers in a dark corner of the gym, far enough away from the dancing and the music. It all became a little too suffocating, the swaying bodies clustered closely together in the nauseating rhythm of a popular theme song, shrinking the atmosphere into a confusing, claustrophobic mass of desolation. I hunched over the dull ache, seeking to numb it out and shut the whole world away, yet in my chest there still lingered a newer, more pervasive sense of loss; a deep, almost clawing kind of emptiness I couldn’t define.
I closed my eyes, and tried to breathe around it. The throbbing persisted, closing in on the space around my heart. I could’ve just as easily cried—it would have brought me more relief—but I didn’t. Foolishness should never have to warrant tears. Instead, I allowed myself to sink into the viscous bog of misery. Stupid, stupid me.
I must have stayed in that hollow space for a time, in the dark, my thoughts harsh and unforgiving, before Mack found me.
“What the hell are you doing back here?” She asked furiously. “And what is Cole doing, dancing out there with Astrid Miles?”
My chest tightened. “You didn’t know? He asked her to save him a dance.”
“He left you alone?” Her tone grew a pitch higher.
“No, I let him go to her,” I muttered. “But what does it matter?”
“What does it matter?” She echoed, truly angry now. “You’re his date. This was his idea to begin with. You shouldn’t be hiding out back here—you should march up to him, and claim your right.”
“When it comes to him, Mack, I have no rights.” I shook my head tiredly. “It’s just safer here.”
“Well, it’s pathetic,” Mack retorted, pulling on my arm. “We don’t do pathetic.”
I shrugged impassively.
“Ugh. Something’s not right about this,” she said in frustration.
“What would you have me do? I’ve made a large enough fool of myself as it is.”
“For starters, you’re going to stop feeling sorry for yourself,” she spat out, and managed to pull me out of my rabbit hole, my safe space. I stood up beside her dazedly.
Despite the chasm that was carved into my insides, I let my gaze wander around the darkened gym. It didn’t take me long to find him, with her in his arms. They were swaying along to the slow love song that played, probably a fitting song for them, if I cared enough to listen to the words. But I was done. I didn’t need to see how gently he was holding her, or how her head fit perfectly into the curve of his shoulder. I looked away, meeting Mack’s worried gaze.
“What did she go as?” I asked monotonously.
Her lips pressed together. “A vestal virgin.”
I laughed darkly, finding the odd irony in that. “Figures.”
“Katie.”
“I’m fine,” I assured her firmly, straightening my short tattered skirt. “But I can’t stay here.”
“You’re not leaving,” Mack snapped, grabbing me on the arm. She started walking, leading me quickly through the crowd. A surge of panic rushed through me.
“What are you doing??”
She didn’t even pause. “I heard the punch is spiked. We’re doing shots.”
Cutting in through the middle of the dance floor, we reached the refreshments table at the far end of the gym, the punch bowl manned by one of the guys from the dance committee. Word about the alcohol must have already spread; the long table looked like an underage bar, with people already lounging around the edges. I didn’t even bother to question how the liquor was snuck in; the chaperons in our school dances honed in on us like hawks to a bunch of field mice. Mack quickly asked for two cups and pushed one brusquely into my hand. I stared down at the swirling red liquid suspiciously.
“It’s cranberry and grape,” the guy behind the table said, reading my look. “It’s really good.”
Mack smirked at me. “Balm to the wounds, supposedly.”
“Right.”
“Shoot it down on three, alright?” She urged, and I nodded, feeling a tiny spark of excitement. I’ve never done anything remotely this reckless in my entire life. “One…Two…Three.”
I downed the whole cup in one stream, the spicy heat of the alcohol burning through my nose and throat, making me choke. Cringing at the bitter-sour aftertaste, I felt dizzy for a second. I set the empty cup down on the table, catching my breath.
“You okay?” The guy asked. Mack raised her eyebrows at me.
I managed to nod. “I think so.”
Mack grinned, and turned to the guy. “One more, barkeep.”
“Aww-right.”
We threw down another shot, and then another, each time the liquid going down more easily. It was an invigorating feeling: adrenaline and alcohol mixed together in a heady, thrilling rush. I savored the taste of the forbidden: a cocktail of cranberry sweetness and a mysterious aromatic bitterness. I crushed the empty cup in my fist and smiled widely at Punch Bowl Guy.
“One more.”
“Hey,” he muttered, giving us a nervous look. “If you get smashed, I’ll get the rap for it.”
Mack rolled her eyes. “You think we can’t hold it? Shut your trap and give us another one.”
“Fine.” He grumbled to himself, pouring us two more cups. “How about you sit down and relish it this time, huh?”
“Good idea,” I murmured. Clutching on to our drinks, Mack and I loped off to the nearest bleachers, giggling the whole time. Several kids who were sitting and talking nearby passed us curious looks.
“Punch converts,” Mack claimed, holding up her cup to them, and we laughed.
We lolled there for a while, sipping on our drinks, while making bawdy comments on who had the most disastrous costume, the prettiest, the cheapest. I wasn’t sure what was going on with me, but it felt good nonetheless, so I didn’t question it. The dance lights and the people swam intriguingly before my eyes, and I leaned back against the higher step of the benches, my head spinning, my limbs gradually growing more relaxed. Still, the ache remained somewhere inside me, festering vehemently, but the alcohol had managed to stave off some of its sting, making me numb momentarily.
“I don’t get it,” Mack twittered in a casual tone, giving me a side glance. “Technically, Cole asked you out. Why would he ask Astrid to save him a dance?”
I sighed heavily. “I don’t know. Can we not talk about it?”
“I just want to figure it out.”
“So do I,” I said through clenched teeth. “But I can’t, because it doesn’t make sense. Obviously, he likes Astrid very much.”
“I guess,” she replied in assent. Her easy agreement somehow felt like a betrayal. “But why feel the need to ask you out too, though? Does he get some sick, twisted pleasure in leading girls on?”
“Like I said, I don’t know,” I snapped, irritated. “Let’s just drop it, okay?”
“Fi-ine,” she muttered under her breath. “No need to get touchy.”
“It’s a touchy subject.”
Mack pursed her lips. “Man, you’ve really got it bad for this guy.”
I glowered at her. “That doesn’t help.”
She shrugged, taking a swig of her punch. “Just stating the obvious.”
“I’ll get over it,” I mustered, finishing my drink in one gulp. Odd that it should leave a bitter taste in my mouth.
We went back to the refreshments table for another round, much to the annoyance of Punch Bowl Guy. His gaze narrowed when he saw us, but it didn’t take long for him to cave in; Mack took it upon herself to use her Betty Boop charms to her full advantage. Dumbstruck, he refilled our cups, and bade us a very friendly send-off. I think he even introduced himself, but his name slipped out of the edges of my consciousness. I was getting a bit woozy, a bit sleepy, that I had to hold on to Mack for support while we walked away. I probably got up from the bleachers a little too quickly.
Careful to avoid the throng of dancing pirates, vampires, nymphs, prison inmates and vestal virgins in stunning Grecian gowns, Mack and I made a turn about the gym, eyeing the decorations for the first time. At first I couldn’t grasp what the theme was, confusing as all the garlands were, but eventually I got the gist of the dance committee’s haunted house angle. Belatedly, a fog machine was started, cloaking the floor in a white translucent mist, playing with the senses as it danced underneath the eerie green and blue party lights. I tried to clear my head of the dizziness. Beside me, Mack cackled.
“Don’t tell me you’re already drunk,” she said, incredulous.
I giggled, leaning against her. “I seem to be.”
“Well, stop drinking then.”
Ignoring her, I raised my cup to my lips. “You know what this dance needs? Something to liven up the mood. It feels a little lonely.”
Mack raised her brows. “Like what, exactly?”
“I don’t know. A flying trapeze, maybe.”
“It’s a haunted house theme, Katie. Not a circus.”
Oh, right. I straightened. “Then a fortune-teller, at least?”
“What, like a palm reader?” When I nodded, Mack rolled her eyes. “I could probably tell you your future better and I won’t even need to read your palm.”
“Give it your best shot,” I retorted challengingly. “Even drunk, I’m not so easily convinced.”
“Fine,” she deadpanned. She mimicked a glazed look. “I see…money. You’ll have a successful career as a burlesque dancer.”
I snorted. “You’re not a very good fortune-teller.”
“You’ll marry in your early thirties and will have a miscarriage. This will throw your marriage on the rocks and you’ll have an affair with a younger man.”
I burst out laughing. “That’s some creative bull right there. What else?”
Her eyes glinted mischievously. “A dark, mysterious figure from your past will reappear out of nowhere.” She smirked grimly at me. “Oh, wait. That’s not in your future. It’s already happening.”
I frowned at that, and before I could ask what she meant, she looked pointedly past my shoulder. So I turned, following her gaze.
A tall figure was walking toward us, seeming to materialize out of the blue artificial mist. All at once, my heart jumped to my throat. For a moment, I began to hope. But the time for it seemed short enough, and the figure emerged from the fog, a flash of the party lights glancing off his familiar features. At the sight of his jet black hair, hope disappeared. But, nevertheless, I found myself staring as he came nearer, unable to move. Then, he was right there in front of me, garbed in a blood red suit, a black dress shirt, and a silk tie, Lucifer himself.
He smiled, cunning and almost devilish. “Katie Holden Gray,” he greeted affectionately, his voice deep and even. “I heard that a certain wicked fairy was flying around here somewhere, though I never thought…” His meaningful gaze lowered to my dress, and his smile widened. “You’re making me speechless.”
“Certainly a first for you,” I murmured, and he chuckled. I tried to fix a polite smile on my face. “Nice to see you too, Sam.”
The wretched dress was a Venus flytrap for all unwanted insects alike.
Sam glanced briefly over my shoulder. “Hello, Mack.”
“What do you want?” She demanded, not even bothering to disguise the hostility in her tone.
He grinned. “Can’t old friends talk to each other?”
“And where’s this old friend you’re talking about? I don’t see him.”