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CHAPTER EIGHT

Saturday evening, while Liv and I are getting dressed for the Halloween party, I try to warn her about O-Chi’s most infamous womanizer. “So, uh, what’s the deal with you and Braden?”

She shrugs as she pins a two-dollar Walmart tiara securely to my hair. “There is no deal.”

“Seems to me you two are getting a little friendly.”

“You think?” Her eyes meet mine in the mirror and I nod. She goes back to pinning. “It’s kinda weird, you know? Like, for months he didn’t even know I existed, and now—?” She shrugs again.

And now he’s moving in for the kill.

I flick a piece of glitter off my lip and keep my voice light. “You think you’re his next target?”

“It’s hard to tell.” She steps back to inspect her work and, satisfied, gets busy decorating my crown with fake flowers. “But all we’ve been doing is talking.”

Talking, huh? Step one of Braden’s game plan.

I try a different tack. “You know, I think there might be something going on between him and Peyton.”

Liv’s eyes nearly pop out of her head. “That girl from KPT?”

I nod.

“Where did you hear that?”

“I’ve seen him with her.”

Liv flips her hair over her shoulder, trying to look bored. “Well, it doesn’t matter because there’s nothing going on with him and me. And you—” she urges me to my feet in front of the full-length mirror “—look amazing.”

My costume isn’t one of Leo’s suggestions, but it is inspired by his bizarrely vast knowledge of folklore. I blink at my reflection and a faerie with glittery eyelids blinks back.

Liv pops on her witch hat and squeezes into view alongside me.

I laugh, “Could we be any more opposite?”

“Yin and Yang, that’s you and me.”

My fingers snag on pearl sequins as I run a hand over the floral lace overlay covering the bodice of my lavender dress.

I’m dusted from head to toe in glitter, and my iridescent wings, which I rush-shipped from a shop on Etsy, sparkle in the overhead light.

Liv is all in black. Lacy black top, tight black skirt, over-the-knee black boots. She’s even wearing black lipstick.

She says to my reflection, “I look like I could totally kick your ass.”

I tease back, “Yeah, well, if you don’t stay away from Braden, I’m totally gonna kick yours.”

At O-Chi, I find Zander up in his room, putting the finishing touches on his costume.

“Hot,” he says when he notices my faerie getup. I was hoping more for “pretty,” but hey, I’ll take it. “Where’d you get that dress?”

“I borrowed it from Caitlyn, across the hall.”

“I like it. It’s nice and short.” He pulls me in for a kiss.

I laugh as I wipe glitter off his Mario mustache. “Please don’t ever grow one for real. ”

“Wha? Issa good.”’

“Oh god, don’t,” I groan. “Just—don’t.”

“Aww. You do-na like it?” He rubs his wooly lip on my neck.

“Stop!” With a giggly shriek, I shove him and run for the door, but he snatches me and, once he has me trapped, wages a full-scale assault on my bare shoulders. His mustache is surprisingly soft for something made of plastic, and I can’t decide if it’s itchy or if it turns me on.

“Bella! Let me kiss you.”

“No. Stop! It tickles!”

“You like?”

Yes . “No!”

I break free only for him to chase me all the way down the stairs, laughing and calling after me, “Bella! Bella Betsy!”

I seek refuge in the crowded kitchen, Zander strolling in behind me. He fist-bumps Trevor, aka Luigi, before he ducks into the laundry room where he’s stashed my cooler. A second later he emerges with an ice cold Sam Adams, pops the lid, and hands it to me.

“I should get one for Liv, too.” I turn for the door, but Zander stops me with a hand on my arm.

“I think she’s already taken care of.”

I follow his gaze to the island where Cole and Braden are working their drink-mixing magic. And there I find Liv, standing beside Braden, supervising as he measures out ingredients.

Nothing going on, huh?

She hip-bumps him when he tries to add another splash of vodka to her cup, then giggles at his wolfish grin. He’s dressed as Thor. At least I think that’s who he’s supposed to be. He’s got the red cape, in the form of a tablecloth, but his armor is more Roman than Viking.

Of course, no one’s going to notice with his arm muscles all bare and bulging.

I whisper to Zander, “What’s Braden trying to do with Liv?”

“Get in her panties.”

“He gets in everyone’s panties. ”

Zander laughs, dude-bro style. “Yeah, but only one girl at a time.”

Somehow, I doubt that. If any of the brothers would do a ménage à trois, it would be Braden.

“He’s a serial monogamist,” Zander declares, like he’s proud of his buddy for having so much self-control. And proud of himself for learning a new term in Anthropology 101.

I’m unimpressed. “A new girl every week doesn’t make him a serial monogamist.” According to Zander’s loose definition, someone who sleeps with a different person every half hour would qualify.

Zander shrugs as he examines the liquor bottles on the counter. He’s moved on to more important things.

Braden spots me and grins. “Hey Tinkerbell, come over here and let me get a look at you.”

I round the island and approach him and Liv, doing a little twirl to show off my wings.

“Smokin’ hot.”

Zander grabs a handful of my dress and tugs me away. Over his shoulder, he glares at his best friend. “My faerie, not yours.”

Like I said, Braden flirts with every girl he finds pleasing to the eye. But Zander only cares if he flirts with me.

In the short time it takes for Zander to mix himself a drink, the room fills up with people.

Not everyone is in a costume, but the majority are.

Nine out of ten girls are outfitted in something sexy: sexy nurse, sexy cat, sexy cheerleader, French maid, Playboy bunny.

The guys are more willing to sacrifice looks for fun.

They’re just overgrown little boys who love fake blood and superheroes.

And weapons. I’ve already counted seven lightsabers.

When dance music starts thumping under our feet, Zander leads me downstairs.

There’s no longer a stage covering the site of Jason’s accident, and sure enough, there’s a bloodstain on the concrete floor.

When Zander notices what I’m looking at, he tells me, “Oh yeah, that dude bled out half his head on the floor. Jake tried to bleach it, but now it’s all green and shit. ”

The blotch is indeed “all green and shit,” but at least you can’t tell what it originally was. Too bad I know where it came from. All I’ll ever think of when I see that sickly stain is Jason’s eyes rolling back in his head.

And I’ll think about Leo, too.

I tip back my head and pour half my beer down my throat.

I don’t expect him to show up tonight. I haven’t heard a peep from him in the past few days and he hasn’t said anything about the party since I first invited him.

I’m free to enjoy Zander and keep an eye on Liv.

And to not have to think about clair -anything.

For what feels like hours, Zander and I dance in the jam-packed basement, pawing each other like high school kids in the backseat of a car.

Since I’m too lazy to go upstairs for another beer, I’ve been taking little sips of his cocktail and I’m way past tipsy.

My beautiful faerie wings are wilting and Zander has broken the hook on one of his overalls straps.

He’s also lost his red shirt and, thank god, his mustache.

Buried deep in the crowd are Liv and Braden. I catch glimpses of them as the bodies around me shift side to side to the music. He’s holding her tight and she’s all smushed against him, arms locked around his neck.

“Leave them alone, babe.” Zander turns my head with a clammy hand. “They’re just dancing.”

“ Now . But what about later?”

“Liv’s a big girl. She can take care of herself.”

Shows you how much he knows about Liv.

I try to wriggle out of Zander’s hold, determined to drop her a fresh warning, but he pulls me closer and drags his lips down my neck, something he knows makes me weak in the knees.

“Braden’s a good guy. Stop worrying about him.”

I fight against the hot tingle his mouth left in its wake. “But?—”

“Nuh uh.” He flashes his sexiest smile and offers me his bottle. “ Drink.”

I do.

I’m hanging off Zander’s neck, dancing with my back to his front, when Trevor interrupts to tell Zander they need him out back. Apparently, some freshman boys are about to start a fight because no one will let them near the keg.

I sigh. A frat president’s work is never done.

After following them upstairs, I head to the kitchen for some water. And there, leaning against the counter, is Leo.

I do a double take. I’m not in the right mind-space for Leo, and I think I might be seeing things.

It’s a Zander night , my buzzing brain protests.

But no, that’s undeniably Leo—brown eyes, black lashes, pensive expression.

He’s not in costume, but it doesn’t seem like he’s really here for the party anyway.

I consider doing an about-face and hiding downstairs where I doubt he’d go. Why did I invite him? I can’t hang out with him while Zander’s around.

No, Leo is a friend and nothing more. I’m allowed to talk to him.

When he sees me, he goes still. “Betts.”

“Hey.”

His gaze rakes over every inch of me. “You’re a faerie.”

“Thanks to you,” I say, crossing the kitchen. “You’re the one who gave me the idea.”

“I did?” He hasn’t blinked since he spotted me.

“Don’t you remember talking about faeries in the library?” I turn to show him my wings, but my twirl is more of a drunken wobble.

He grabs me by the hips to steady me. When his eyes meet mine, his words come out on a breath, “You’re the prettiest faerie I’ve ever seen.”

I collect my wits enough to respond. “Oh right. Yes. Because you’ve seen so many fairies.”

One side of his mouth tugs up. “More than you can count.”

“Hmm.” I toy with the hood string of his jacket, only vaguely aware that I’m in his arms. “And where does one find all these faeries? Because I’ve never seen a single one.”