Chapter 12 #3
Inside, the house was crammed wall-to-wall with people.
I led Xander toward the kitchen, weaving my way through the crowd as we went.
We found Sofia and her other cousin, Jake’s sister Veronica, exactly where he said they’d be, sitting at barstools along the massive granite-top peninsula.
When Sofia spotted me, her face lit up, and she half jumped, half stumbled down from her seat.
“Indie!” she exclaimed, sloshing drink down the front of her lace-up bodice. “You made it!”
I clamped my lips together as I tried not to laugh. Looks like someone is having a good time.
“You know I’d never miss a costume party,” I replied as she pulled me into a slightly soggy hug. Sofia released me after a few seconds and turned to Xander, but I cut in before she could ruin his cover. “Sofia, Ronnie, this is my friend Alex. He just moved here from San Diego.”
Sofia must not have been as drunk as I thought, because she wiggled her eyebrows at him and played along. “Nice to meet you, Alex. How are you liking Laguna Beach so far?”
“Oh, you know.” He made an airy gesture. “It sucked switching schools my senior year, but I met a few people who’ve made the move worth it.” Xander’s gaze flickered to me, and the look in his eyes was so intense, I had to glance away to hide the color blooming on my cheeks.
Of course, Sofia missed none of this. She glanced between the two of us and grinned like a proud parent.
“That’s so good to hear. Nothing like finding your people, am I right?
” Her response was filled with so much enthusiasm, I was surprised she didn’t pull confetti out of her pockets and shower us in it.
“By the way, can I get you a drink? Lizzie has everything—beer, wine, hard seltzer. If you want something more festive, there’s an actual bartender making Halloween-themed cocktails in the other room. ”
“Ah, how about a water? I have to drive tonight.”
“Sure thing.” She turned to me. “Indie?”
“I’ll have the same,” I told her.
“All right, two waters coming up.”
Sofia flitted over to the fridge, saying hi to friends as she went. While she was gone, Ronnie took the time to study Xander, her brows dipping down in scrutiny.
“Have we met before?” she asked. “There’s something about you that’s so familiar.”
Uh-oh. That didn’t take long.
Xander leaned back against the counter in a slow, unbothered way and crossed his arms. “Don’t think so,” he answered. “I started at your school less than two weeks ago. Maybe you’ve seen me in the halls?”
“No, that’s not it.” She pursed her lips in thought. “Were you the guy in that Icy Quest commercial?”
The urge to burst out laughing was strong, but I managed to keep a straight face. “The stuff for athlete’s foot?”
“I can happily confirm that wasn’t me,” Xander said with a bemused smile. “I’m not much of an actor. Although I thought my performance as a sugarplum in my kindergarten production of ’Twas the Night Before Christmas was pretty stellar.”
Ronnie’s face fell. “Oh.”
“Here you go,” Sofia said, returning with four waters. She handed a bottle to each of us and kept one for herself. “Figured we could all use some hydration.”
“Thanks.” Xander twisted the cap off, and as he took a sip, Ronnie cocked her head to the side and continued to scrutinize him. Any minute now, she would put two and two together. Which meant it was time to make ourselves scarce.
“Well, I think Alex and I are going to check out the bonfire, so we’ll catch you guys later?”
“Why don’t we come with you?” Ronnie said, hopping off the barstool. “I haven’t been outside yet.”
Sofia must have caught the look on my face, because she hooked an arm around her cousin’s. “Actually, I have the sudden urge to hit the dance floor. Let’s go find us some cute boys.”
I mouthed a thank you to Sofia as she ushered Ronnie toward the living room. Once they were gone, I pointed at the back door. Xander slid it open, and we walked out onto the deck.
“So was it true?” I asked, glancing around. There were two couples making out in the hot tub and a few people seated at the patio table playing king’s cup, but everyone else was gathered around the firepit in the yard beyond.
“Was what true?” he asked as we started across the deck.
“The whole bit about your kindergarten play.”
Xander slanted his head in mock challenge. “Do I look like a liar to you?”
“I don’t know, Alex from San Diego. Something about your story isn’t adding up.”
“Fair,” he replied, chuckling to himself and trudging down the steps. “That said, everyone knows the secret to lying is telling as much of the truth as possible. I made a very adorable sugarplum.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m sure you did.”
When we reached the edge of the bonfire, I recognized most of the people congregated around it and immediately changed directions, steering Xander past the ring of Adirondack chairs and toward the ocean.
“Wait, where are we going?” he asked, twisting his head around to look back at the fire.
“Those are my orchestra friends. Your cover story won’t work on them.
” I stopped at the fence separating Lizzie’s backyard from the shore.
Next to it was an outdoor storage bin, similar to the one Violet kept on our deck at home, and when I lifted the cover, I found exactly what I was looking for—a collection of towels, sand toys, and noodles.
I dug through the box until I found a towel that was big enough for both of us to sit on, then straightened up. “Let’s go sit by the water.”
With a nod, Xander lifted the latch on the gate and pushed it open.
He gestured for me to go first. I tugged off my boots and socks, tucked them behind the storage bin, and stepped onto the beach.
The sun had long since set, and without its heat, the sand felt cool as it squished between my toes.
We made an unspoken decision to put distance between us and the party, walking down the coast until the music faded away before picking a spot on the edge of the surf and unrolling our towel.
I sank to the ground and stretched out, tucking my legs to one side.
Once I was settled, Xander sat down beside me, and as he did, his knuckles lightly grazed my thigh.
A trail of goose bumps rippled up my leg, and I felt my breath catch in my throat.
Besides the rhythmic crashing of waves, the night was quiet.
So quiet, in fact, I was positive Xander had heard me gasp.
I peeked over at him, but he wasn’t paying attention.
He was too busy removing the more cumbersome elements of his costume.
First came the cloak, which he unclasped from his neck, folded into a neat square, and set beside him on the towel.
Then he tackled the bracers, loosening the cords binding them to his forearms before laying the leather armguards on top of the cloak.
Finally, he ripped off his wig, tossed it away, and sighed in relief.
“That thing should be marketed as a torture device,” he complained, massaging the tips of his fingers into his scalp. His hair was flat and sweaty after being plastered against his head for hours. Still, just looking at him made my heart jump.
“Itchy?” I guessed as I willed my pulse to slow down.
He nodded. “It felt like I shampooed my hair with poison ivy.”
“Yikes.” When I was eight, my family went on a camping trip with the Williamses.
Alec and I spent the entire weekend exploring the surrounding forest, and although our moms told us to stick to the hiking trails, neither of us listened.
We both came home covered in a poison oak rash that itched for weeks, mine so severe it blistered.
Just thinking about the experience made me flinch.
“Yikes is an understatement.” He was glaring at the hairpiece with such disdain, I was surprised he hadn’t chucked it into the ocean. “I don’t normally wear wigs, and after today, I plan on never wearing one again.”
“Understandable,” I said with a nod.
His brows drew together. “Are you okay? You seem…off.”
“Totally,” I replied, then instantly wanted to kick myself.
If I didn’t quit it with these one-word answers, Xander might think I was pissed at him.
The problem was my mind kept wandering back to the way his fingers felt against my skin.
It was only a brief, accidental touch, but it had been enough to light up every one of my nerve endings.
For a minute, neither of us spoke, and I was starting to fear I had given him the wrong idea.
“Guess what?” he said at last.
“What?” I was so glad Xander wasn’t upset, I forgot all about making an effort to respond in more than a single word.
“Come on. That’s no fun,” he replied, nudging me in the side. “You’re supposed to guess.”
“Okay, fine.” Tapping a finger against my chin, I pretended to be deep in thought. “Oh, I got it! You really were in that Icy Quest commercial, weren’t you?”
“You’re a terrible guesser,” he grumbled.
“Are you going to tell me what I’m supposed to be guessing,” I asked, relaxing as we slipped into our regular repartee, “or do you plan on keeping me in suspense for the rest of the night?”
He rolled his eyes but was unable to keep the corner of his mouth from jutting up. “I spoke with Alec. He agreed to help me record a single.”
“Oh my God! Xander, that’s amazing,” I exclaimed. “Have you started writing anything yet?”
“I have a few ideas I want to play around with.” As he spoke, he lifted up a fistful of sand, then watched as gravity took hold and thousands of fine grains spilled from between the gaps in his fingers. “Touring is exhausting, but I’ll find time to work on them during our days off.”