5. Claire
5
CLAIRE
T here’s no date, or even time, on the invite. I’m not sure when we should show up, so I defer to Lily on that point.
She might not have been invited to a party in one of the private student houses before, but she’s as confident now as she is about everything else. “I’d say eleven or so.”
“Eleven!” I repeat.
That’s about when I usually go to sleep .
“Ten at the earliest, but expect to help set up. No one really shows up before that to any college party.”
That’s my first cue that this party isn’t going to be like any of those I’ve attended with Noah and his friends. As jocks, his crew and the football players had a lot more parties than the rest of our old high school, and they did get pretty crazy, but they tended to end around one. I don’t think I’ve shown up after eight or stayed until past midnight before. I bite my lip nervously. If it weren’t for Lily, I wouldn’t go at all, but she is eager at the prospect, and I don’t want to disappoint her.
I won’t deny a part of me is curious about a number of things: witnessing how rich college people party, seeing how I’d feel in Lily’s tiny skirt. Plenty of girls my age wear skirts just like this, or even shorter, but not me. Never me. It looks pretty. I feel attractive here, in front of the full-length mirror hung over the wardrobe’s door. But what would it be like out there, with people looking at my bare legs? My stomach flutters each time I think about it, sometimes with dread, other times with excitement. I half expect someone to point to the skirt and declare that I’ve violated some sort of cardinal law by wearing it, and that I’d better change into a knee-length full skirt right this second. Probably my grandma. But she isn’t here.
“I’m not going to stay long,” I warn her.
Lily shrugs. “Me neither, probably. None of my friends will be there except you. We can leave when you wanna leave.”
I nod gratefully, some of my anxiety dissipating.
I really lucked out in the roommate department. Looking around as she’s finishing hanging up her cosplay, it’s evident that Lily’s both tidy and fond of pretty things. Her side of the room has a number of personal touches, like a throw that looks so soft flung over her bed, two colorful pillows nearby.
We order pad thai from a little place she recommends—the best and cheapest food I’ve eaten so far in town—and then, she has to excuse herself to see some of her pals for drinks. She does invite me, but one party is enough socializing for the day, so I decline, making it clear I’d love to another time.
While she’s gone, I try to nap, but I’m too wired, so I just read while listening to music.
As soon as I’m alone, something ugly and shameful crosses my mind. I should text Noah. I should tell him I’m going to a party. I don’t. I should have told him about Darius Keller, too. I certainly didn’t. It doesn’t seem worth it in light of yesterday’s argument.
But the nugget of guilt grows larger as I time passes. Finally, I give in, glancing at my phone.
I haven’t talked to him much since last night, but there are several messages from his end.
Noah: You know I didn’t mean to call you a charity case. It’s odd though. It’s a lot of money.
Noah: I’m sorry.
Noah: The guys are wondering how you’re doing.
Me: Good! I grabbed the books I needed. Eager to start Monday.
Noah: That’s my girl!
Noah: Your grandma says hi!
Noah: Facetime tonight? I miss you.
Noah: ??
I glance at the time. Ten thirty. Lily isn’t back yet, so that’s perfect. I call, with video, and only when the phone has started to ring do I realize that I’m wearing the skirt.
I scramble to climb under my sheets just as the call connects.
“Hey!”
I grin at the screen. Noah’s handsome. Shaggy brown hair, warm honey-gold eyes, he’s well built after four years of varsity sports—perhaps less so right now. He hasn’t played since last semester, and won’t be playing in college.
“Claire Bear. You move to a fancy town and forget all about the rest of us, huh?” He’s grinning, but there’s a bit of accusation both in his tone and the way his eyebrow raises questioningly.
He last texted over two hours ago.
“I was socializing. I ate dinner with my roommate, Lily. She’s super nice.” I start to tell him about her cosplaying, but I haven’t gone far when he interrupts me.
“Listen, I’m out with the guys. We were just about to head home and I’m the DD, you mind if I call you in the morning?”
“Oh, right!” By the looks of the background, he’s in a quiet room—there’s no loud noise, and the wall’s plain, so I didn’t realize he wasn’t home. “I was just returning your text. Catch you later.”
In truth, I’m relieved to keep it short tonight.
The guilt doesn’t shift, because I still haven’t confessed to any of what I’m up to. But to be fair, he didn’t give me a chance to get to it.
Tomorrow, I’ll tell him about the party, I decide. I also consciously make the choice to bypass any mention of Keller. That’s truly not worth it.
Maybe that’s why the guilt doesn’t dissipate—because I’m hiding something. But little white lies don’t hurt anyone. It’s not like I’m cheating.
The problem is, Keller is very, very handsome. No, he’s hot, point-blank. There’s a reason he’s a freaking model, taking after his superstar dad. And acknowledging I find him attractive— more attractive than my boyfriend—makes the guilt about hiding anything associated with him worse.
“I’m back!” Lily sings, opening the door. “The guys are eager to meet a fellow nerd, by the way. I told them all about you. They’re highly impressed at you getting us an invite to the wyverns’ tonight. Get this: apparently, those cards let you into any of their parties, all year. Unless a wyvern revokes your welcome, but that hardly ever happens. Amazing, right?”
“That’s great.”
She’s all excitement. “Of course, I’ll give you back the second invite after tonight, if you want to take someone else next time. They’re yours.”
“Oh, no, don’t sweat it. Please, keep it.”
She’s far more enthused about the whole deal than I am. And I’m all for keeping her on my side.
“You’re too sweet!” She hugs me. “Come on, I’ll do your makeup.”
My eyes widen. “Oh, no need.”
Lily isn’t one of those girls wearing too much makeup. Her skin is fairly clean, with just a discreet blush, eye liner, and some lipstick, as far as I can tell. But her lipstick is bright red, which looks epic with her straight haircut and those large glasses, but it’s far more in-your-face than my go-to pink blush.
“I insist.”
I fidget, but end up letting her do it. There’s a little more powder and cream than I would have guessed, looking at her. While she works, she tells me she’s not touching up my skin much as we have different skin colors. Hers is the warm, Mediterranean tan we see on Italians in the summer, and mine is similar to a Twilight vampire. Or a ghost.
See you later, little ghost.
I feel myself flushing. Quite frankly, men like him shouldn’t be allowed to talk to regular girls. They make us stupid.
“There, how about that?”
She holds a mirror up to my face, and my eyes widen. I don’t think I’ve ever looked or felt this pretty. My lips aren’t the scarlet of hers, but a deep blush, closer to mauve. My lashes are longer than your average horse’s and there’s a certain glow to my skin that looks completely natural. Sadly, my natural state has never been this perfect. I also look like I don’t have a single pore.
“You’re very good at this.” I’m glad she didn’t transform me into someone who doesn’t look like me.
“Thanks! I’ve been cosplaying since I was like, twelve, so I use makeup a lot.”
“No, thank you . You’ll have to teach me how to do that, without foundation.”
“I’ll talk you through it next time. Consider it my first payback for a year’s worth of wyvern parties! Are you ready?”