Chapter Twenty-Six Maddie #2
The girl steps back and she’s wearing the same cape as Junie except underneath is nothing but a red lacy lingerie set.
“I’m so jealous,” the girl whines. “You look so warm.”
“But you look so sexy,” Junie tells the girl, her words slurred. “And I mean that in an empowering way!”
Everything feels fuzzy and light and this is the cutest thing I have ever fucking seen.
“A picture! You two need a picture!” I pat my skirt and then shove a hand up my shirt to feel around my bra, but my phone is definitely not in my bra or shoved into the little red boy-short underwear I opted for tonight.
Shit. I left it at Bram’s—but librarians are like Boy Scouts, right?
Always prepared? “Junie, give me your phone!”
She does, and I creatively direct the greatest photo shoot of all time right there in the middle of Tombaugh Avenue.
“Okay, now make kissy faces!” And because I am nothing if not committed, I make a kissy face right along with them like the good stage mom I am.
12:19 A.M.
“Thanks for coming to the bathroom with me,” I tell Junie. “I usually read on my phone when I pee, but I left it at home, so I really needed company.”
She sits on the counter of the single restroom, her legs swinging, and doesn’t even blink at the sight of me hovering over the suspiciously grimy toilet.
“Boys pee standing next to each other every day. Why is it weird if I want to come into the bathroom with my friend and talk to her while she pees?”
“Exactly. They literally shake the pee off their dicks together and it’s weird if you hang out while I take a little tinkle?”
“We need to reclaim the act of social peeing!” Junie says, her little fist curled and ready for rebellion. “Right after we finish reclaiming Halloween. When you close your eyes, do you see little dots? Do you think I’m having a stroke?”
I wipe and then do the stand/flush/hand wash dance. “I think you’re just drunk, but if you still see the dots tomorrow, we can call Dr. Meredith Grey.”
Someone pounds on the door, and we both jump.
“Wait your fucking turn!” Junie yells, and immediately slaps a hand over her mouth.
“That was so hot,” I tell her. “We should stay in here for another few minutes and take some mirror selfies just to teach them a lesson.”
Junie hands over her phone and hops down off the counter. I really shouldn’t have left my phone at home, but here we are.
We pose a few times and I twirl around and stick my ass out a little so that it peeks out from under my skirt before snapping a mirror selfie over my shoulder.
“Now, that’s a good one,” I mutter, and immediately open Junie’s text messages and type out Bram’s phone number, which I memorized in case there were any emergencies with the girls. Because I! Am! So! Responsible!
After attaching the photo, I hit Send and pass it back to Junie.
When we leave the bathroom, some dumbass bro dressed as a cactus with giant balls snarls at us. “Fucking bitches.”
I turn to the boy and step closer and closer to him until his back is pressed against the door. I sniff at the air, because I can smell his fear.
He quickly moves from annoyed to concerned as I square up to him.
And then I bare my teeth and growl before letting out a rumbling bark as I snap my teeth.
Behind me, Junie laughs and begins to bark as well.
A few other girls waiting in line join in, and before I know it, half of the women’s lacrosse team all dressed as crayons are buying us shots.
“To slutty Velma!” Junie shouts, and the lacrosse team echoes.
1:31 A.M.
Junie and I sit on the curb outside a bar called The Library that she is very charmed by. We paraded around the place while Junie announced that she was indeed a librarian and we were treated to many shots. Too many shots.
“What if we die?” Junie asks. “What if our bodies are so full of alcohol that the little people inside of us who operate our bodies drown and die?”
My head lolls to the side as it rests on Junie’s shoulder. It is cold. Very, very cold. And I refuse to ever admit that to Bram. “The little people inside of us?”
“When I was a kid, I always imagined little versions of myself inside of me, clocking in for work, and pumping blood like a water pump and carrying food down into my intestines via—what’s it called when a bunch of people work in a line to assemble something?”
“An assembly line?”
She kisses the top of my head. “How did I get so lucky to have such a pretty and smart friend?”
“No,” I shout back at her, “you’re the pretty and smart one. I am very stupid and a huge mess.”
“Don’t you dare talk shit about my friend like that or else—or else, I’m going to compliment you until your ears bleed.”
A little burp slips out and I don’t even try to cover my mouth. “I am a mess, though.”
“Because you’re totally doing Dr. Bram Loe, Mount Astra’s third most eligible bachelor?” Junie asks.
“What the hell, Junie?” I sit up way, way too fast. “How did you know?”
“Well, you smile a lot in the mornings. You moved in with him.” She leans over and whispers in my ear, “And sometimes you smell like . . . sex.”
My eyes turn into saucers as I lean back and attempt to swat at her, but instead I swing at the air and lose my balance, somehow landing flat on my back.
Around me, people continue to walk, like this is totally normal and I guess at Halloween in the middle of the Snake Pit, it totally is.
I can’t see many stars, but the lights and the flashes of shoes and bright, sparkly costumes feel a little bit like magic.
“Oh my fucking hell,” Junie says in a voice that is suddenly very sober. “Maddie, we gotta go. Right now.”
I moan and curl onto my side. “But I’m so comfy.”
“Shoot, shoot, shit, shoot,” she mutters. “Okay, I’ll be right back, Maddie. Don’t go anywhere, promise?”
“Oh, sure,” I say. “Why not?”
“I’m going to be just around the corner of the building, keeping an eye on you.” She groans, but it almost sounds like a shriek. “What the hell is he even doing here?”
I can’t tell if the confusion is because I am genuinely confused or if I’m just that intoxicated. Who cares? My eyes slip closed and why have I never slept on the pavement before? It’s so cozy!
I hear myself make those delightful little moans you make sometimes when you’re so sleepy that the feeling of finally giving in to slumber is too good to resist.
“Madelyn,” a smooth aristocratic voice croons. “Made-lyn, wake up, little bird.”
When I open my eyes, a man with blond hair and an impeccable tuxedo is grinning down at me.
The man taps my nose three times. “Does Bram know that his little pet is drunkenly sleeping on the sidewalk in a garment that is more closely related to a belt than a skirt?”
“Mmmmm.” All I can do is groan as he scoops an arm under my shoulders to sit me up. “Hey, I know you. You’re Mount Astra’s number one most eligible bachelor.”
“I am indeed.” Leo Saint James taps my nose again, which I find very annoying even though he seems to think he’s sooooooooooo funny. “Six years and running. I have a title to maintain, you know, despite not actually living here. A mere technicality.”
He sounds very snooty and I don’t think I like his tone. “Well,” I tell him, “I bet you’re not fucking Mount Astra’s third most eligible bachelor and letting him eat you for breakfast every morning because breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”
Leo breaks out into a wide, brilliant, sparkling smile. “Oh. This is good. This is very good. Excuse me for a moment.”
He takes out his phone and begins to type.
“What do you want?” I ask. I am losing my patience here. “I have dreams to sleep and snores to snore.”
He pockets his phone, seeming all too delighted with himself. “Up we go.”
“You look like someone made you in a factory for good-looking people.”
“Thank you,” he says, like it’s a compliment he hears every day. He glances over his shoulder. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but was that person who was just sitting beside you a moment ago dressed as Mothman?”
“Slutty Mothman,” I correct him. “Slutty librarian Mothman. Because Junie is a librarian, and if you’re a librarian in real life, you’re still one on Halloween.”
He squints a little and then nods. “Yes, of course. Junie is slutty librarian Mothman. I think, if you’ll excuse me—” And he straightens up, his eyes scanning the crowd like he’s going to Richard Gere–style hunt down Mothman right this minute. Which is when I fall back over onto the sidewalk.
And then start giggling uncontrollably.
The single loudest sigh of all time leaves his body as he stares down at me. After a minute where he seems to have a long, internal argument with himself, he holds out his hands to pull me up.
“Standing up is overrated,” I tell him. “I would like to sleep here, please. File a permit with the city if you must. This is my home now.”
Leo’s eyebrow lifts. “And get killed by Daddy Bram and have my beautiful specimen of a body turned into potting soil? Not happening, little bird. I don’t think you know what that man is capable of.”
I pout and I whine, but begrudgingly I let him pull me up.
No matter how many times I blink, the world is still blurry, but I’m able to see that I’m at eye level with the fourth button down from the collar on Leo’s pressed tuxedo shirt.
“What are you supposed to be?” I ask like it’s an accusation.
“An indecently handsome person in a tuxedo.”
I frown.
“Jay Gatsby,” he says.
And then everything around me is moving.
No, no. That’s not it.
Everything inside me is moving.
I begin to shake my head, like that might somehow stop the trajectory of the next ten seconds. “I’m going to—”
And then I puke. It’s mostly blue and a little bit purple and thankfully chunk free. But I puke on Leo Saint James of the Saint James Chocolate Co., and I can say without a shadow of a doubt that this is the most expensive tuxedo I have ever puked on.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, the words feeling like a cry. Suddenly, I just want to go home.
Leo takes a deep breath and sheds his jacket before cloaking it over my shoulders. “It’s fine, Madelyn.” He glances around like he’s looking for someone, anyone, but after a moment, breathes a resigned sigh. “This was my Monday tuxedo, anyhow.”