CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
ORION FENIMORE
You felt it the first time you saw me. Admit it.
LILA MURPHY
If when you say it, you’re referring to extreme annoyance, then yes, you’re right on the nose.
Vampire Falls. Season one, episode nine - “Not On Our Watch”
Much, much alcohol has since been consumed due to all the people in Conference Hall A insisting on buying me drinks, which I have graciously accepted to counteract the adrenaline. Plus, some vile pink milky shots Roxy appeared from the bar with.
Roxy had done such a good job on my hair and make-up there was minimal smudging and frizzing despite all the sweat and water.
Oh yeah, and my general AWESOMENESS. I kind of feel as close to a rock star as I’m ever likely to get, so I’m making the most of the party and haven’t left the dance floor, apart from to go for the longest pee in history, because of the adrenaline and the beers.
Roxy and I swing each other round, laughing and dancing as the music thuds. She reattached my precious cape, and it fans out behind me as we twirl.
“You look so good in a cape, babe!”
“I know!” I shriek into her ear. “Thank you for rescuing it.”
“What?” she yells.
Suddenly needing her to know how deeply grateful I am for everything, I pull her to the side of the dance floor and yell again.
“I said, thank you for rescuing my cape. From the door. I wouldn’t have gone on without it. I would have been naked. I mean, felt naked,” I laugh.
We fall into each other laughing about me being naked because doing swordplay naked would be extremely dangerous, I imagine. She leans into me, catching her breath and shaking her head.
“I didn’t.”
“You didn’t what?” I shout.
“Rescue the cape,” she says.
“Huh?” I say. I’m so confused but still giggly about the naked cosplay.
Roxy shakes her head and sort of slumps into me.
“There were all these hotel people at our door, Eliza, and I was like, what are these hotel people? But Charlie was there, at the door, and I said, ‘Charlie what are all these hotel people?’ and Charlie said he’d called the hotel people to open our door and escape your cape. Your stuck cape.”
Roxy takes a swig of her beer and I frown at her.
“Charlie Chamberlain did?”
“Charlie did,” she says, nodding.
She shimmies and takes another swig of her beer, but freezes, her eyes unblinking at something behind me. I mirror her, as she is my best friend and this is how one does things when you know each other well. Her mouth twists into incomprehensible shapes.
Incomprehensible to the non-best friend.
“He’s coming over.”
“Charlie Chamberlain is?” I say, whipping round, not excited or tummy-fluttery in the slightest.
“Hotty McHotbod,” Roxy stage whispers, then bursts out laughing.
“Hey, Team Awesome,” says Fake McKinley, frowning at Roxy as she presses her finger against his arm, accompanied by a sizzling sound.
He’s still in his lovely tight threads but now accessorised with his birthday crown. He smiles and fist bumps us both then holds out a bottle of water.
“Hi,” I say, beaming at him, then turning my nose up at the H2O.
He rolls his eyes and takes my hand, placing the bottle into it.
“I need to whizz,” announces Roxy before dancing off.
“OK?” Fake McKinley says, smiling down at me,
“Better than OK,” I say, “I am ebullient.”
“I hope so, whatever that is,” he says, laughing. “You did awesome.”
“Thank you for helping Roxy put it together. And for getting me on,” I say, sipping some water.
He waves my thanks away and folds his biceppy arms.
“No need. Roxy was all over it, and so were you. Just needed a little nudge.”
“Well, you’re both my heroes, anyway,” I say, play-punching his massive shoulder muscle and actually hurting my poor knuckles. “I’m a lucky girl.”
A new song starts, getting a big whoop from the dance floor, and Fake McKinley’s face breaks into an even wider smile.
“You’re about to get even luckier,” he says, putting his hand out to mine as he steps backwards to the music. “This is my all-time favourite song! Come on!”
I let him take my hand but hold back still, enjoying him stepping from side to side as he sings his heart out to the song.I shake my head, laughing.
“So, you can dance as well as sword fight?”
“Hell yeah. My mum made me take dance lessons until I was sixteen. Said the girls would love it.” He does a spin, then puts his hand to the side of his mouth and leans down to me. “And they do – thanks, Mum!”
He winks and we both laugh, then he holds out his other hand.
“I don’t believe you took actual lessons,” I say, shaking my head. “No way.”
He stops moving around and steps in front of me, holding both his hands up in the universal let’s-tango-or-some-other-type-of-dance position. I stare at them, then back away laughing.
“Come on,” he says, grabbing the hand still clutching my water and pulling me up to him.
I tuck the water into my sword holster and stumble into him, my legs still a little wobbly from earlier, but his citrussy smell gives me a boost of energy. He smiles and attempts to lead me on our fun little side dance floor. I tread on his foot for the third time and he laughs, shaking his head.
“You, however, have clearly never had lessons,” he says.
“True, but what I lack in technical training, I make up for in zeal,” I say.
“Zeal?” he says, laughing as he tries to spin me.
“Yes, zeal!”
“Well, here’s to zeal!” he says, managing to twirl me round then lean me back in a dip.
I giggle, letting him take my full weight as I enjoy the upside-down version of Conference Hall A, the lights flashing on the ground and everyone dancing from the ceiling.
Someone appears from the dance floor and stops in front of us, and it takes me a minute to realise who it is looking down at me.
“Is that Charlie Chamberlain?” I say, still in full dip.
Charlie Chamberlain nods (I think; it’s difficult to tell upside down). Fake McKinley pulls me up and I sort of fall into him as he steadies me.
“You are terrible,” he jokes, high-fiving me then looking at Charlie Chamberlain. “She’s terrible.”
“Hey,” I say, air-punching him because of my injured knuckles. “I’m not that bad.”
“You backflip better than you pirouette,” he says, then turns to Charlie Chamberlain. “Did you enjoy the show? Wasn’t she incredible?”
“Yeah, I . . . uh,” he says, glancing at Fake McKinley’s crown. He opens his mouth to say something but shakes whatever it was away and looks at me. “You did great.”
“She totally nailed it.” Fake McKinley holds his fist out again and I oblige, but with an added explosion mime. He smiles at me, raising his eyebrows. “You nailed it.”
Charlie Chamberlain nods, something like a smile flashing on his lips before it vanishes and he looks down at his hand.
“Got this for you,” he says, holding up another bottle of water and frowning at the one I already have (why is everyone making me drink water?).
“Thanks,” I say, taking it from him.
Fake McKinley looks over the top of my head at the dance floor, his eyebrows drawing together.
“Guys, I think I just saw Dorothy squaring up to that Tuxedo Vampire who fell on top of her. I better go,” says Fake McKinley. He heads onto the dance floor then suddenly turns, adjusts his crown, then throws his hands in the air and shouts, “Zeal appeal!”
I mirror him and shout it back.
“I don’t even know what it means!” he says, shrugging.
I laugh, shaking my head as he ducks into the crowd towards Dorothy, who is indeed snarling at Tuxedo Vampire.
“What’s that about?” Charlie Chamberlain asks.
“I think Dorothy has beef with that guy because he fell on her,” I say, turning back to him.
“Not that,” he says, stepping closer to me, sending a buzz of static up and down my body. “I meant . . .”
“Wooohooooo!”
We both look round as Roxy dances past us, her hands on the shoulders of someone dressed as Viggo, a long train of people behind her dancing in sequence around the dance floor.
“Haven’t seen drunk Roxy in ages,” Charlie Chamberlain says, gesturing at her.
How would you, after you abandoned us? I think to myself.
“What was that?” he says.
“What was what?”
“You said something about abandoning something?” he says, leaning in.
Shit. Damn me and my inability to keep my internal dialogue tucked up safely inside my head.
“Nothing,” I say, taking a slurp of my beer which is actually divine.
We’re standing nearly as close as we were in his bedroom earlier.
He smiles, then looks round the dance floor.
I watch him, his profile on perfect display for me.
It’s nice having free rein to peruse his features this close.
Did I tell you Charlie Chamberlain’s eyes are golden?
Like, the colour of autumn, and if you look close enough you can see the reflection of leaves falling in them.
My own eyes wander around him, the flashing lights highlighting different parts of him for me. He’s so tall, but he hunches his shoulders a little, used to talking to everyone lower down than he is. He takes a sip of his drink, and I perv at his bicep.
What? Sorry. I’ve never noticed Charlie Chamberlain’s arms before.
I mean, I know he has them, for I have seen them many times.
Not sure where that . . . I swallow and glance round the dance floor like he’s doing.
It must be the booze and the skin-tingling closeness we had earlier.
That’s why I want to take another look at his . . .
“By the way,” he says, interrupting my pervy thoughts (thank goodness), “you really were awesome earlier.”
“Thanks,” I say.
“Seriously. Best I’ve seen you do it.”
“You’ve seen me do it?” I ask.
“Yes,” he nods, then his eyes widen. “Seen you do that routine, I mean. On Insta.”
“My cape though,” I say.
“Your cape?”
I get my words in order and stand on my tiptoes so I can just about reach his ear.
“My cape,” I say. “You saved my cape from the door.”
“Oh,” he says, nodding. He shrugs. “It was fine. I just called down to . . . they sent a couple of guys with a key card.”
“Thank you,” I say, and he shrugs again.
“You needed your cape.”
I swallow, and look up at him, sure the flashing lights are hypnotising me into believing I want him to stand closer to me than he is.
“How drunk are you, Eliza?”
His eyes twinkle as he smiles at me.
“Medium to large,” I respond, grinning at him.
“You’re ridiculous,” he says, shaking his head and laughing.
His eyes lock on mine, then he steps in a little closer, his aftershave scrambling my already quite scrambled thoughts. I stare into his eyes, feeling myself starting to fall into us.
“Did you get my—”
“Well, hey there, losers,” says Roxy, interrupting him.
“Hey, Rox,” says Charlie Chamberlain, stepping back from me. “Having fun?”
“Having the best fun,” she says, then hands me a bottle. “Got you a drink, babe.”
“It’s not water, is it?” I say, gratefully taking the beer and clinking it against Roxy’s. “Dudes around here all want to give—”
“I better check on Sadie,” says Charlie Chamberlain, doing a little double wave as he backs away and turns towards the tables. My heart sinks as he disappears into the crowd, but I can’t ponder as I’m now getting twirled within an inch of my life by Roxy.
“I want to twirl you for ever!” she says, smiling as my cape flows out behind me again. “You rock that thing so hard.”
“Why, thank you. It’s the latest in functional fashion,”I say, forcing her to stop. I strike various poses so she can take photos. “It even has pockets . . .”
I shove my hands inside the pockets my nanna sewed into the bottom of the cape, frowning when my fingers brush against a piece of paper inside one of them. I pull it out and leave Roxy dancing on her own (not that she’d realise) to find some light.
A pink spotlight shines down in the corner so I head there, looking over my shoulder. Satisfied I’ve found the only solitary spot in Conference Hall A, I unfold the paper, a little breath escaping as I take in the page.
I look around again, then back at the line drawing of me in full Juliana cosplay, my cape billowing out behind me as I lean on my sword. I hold my breath and blink at Charlie Chamberlain’s drawing and read the two words scribbled under it.
Good luck.