Chapter Nine
LUCAS
“Do you think it’s possible to wear too much glitter?” Julia asks from her room through the open adjoining door.
That thing has stayed open since her security scare last night. She says that it’s just easier to talk late, but I think whatever scenario she had in her head scared her more than she’ll admit.
“It depends. Are we talking fairy dust or disco ball levels?” I ask, flipping through the TV channels until I find a baseball game.
“Um… in the middle?” She appears in the doorway between our rooms, with an unsure look. I can tell she’s put on more makeup than before, but other than that, I can’t see a difference.
“I don’t see any glitter.”
Taking a hesitant step into my room, she moves into the sunlight.
“Oh. My. Goodness.”
“It’s too much, isn’t it?” She bites at the corner of her lip, the same way she does when she’s feeling self-conscious. “I started adding more and more, and then, well, here we are.”
I stand up and start to circle slowly around her. It’s everywhere: her arms, face, neck… It’s even on her legs. “You’re like one of those vampires you were obsessed with.”
“I was not obsessed…” she huffs, crossing her arms.
“Yes, you were, and now you’re one of them, sparkling in the sunlight.”
“Lucas…” Her tone sends a warning, but I know there isn’t any heat behind it.
“It’s better than burning, I guess.”
“Stop!” Now, she’s on the verge of laughing.
“Would you rather I started singing ‘Diamonds’? I could pull out my inner Rihanna if you really want me to.”
“I’m sure you would.” We stand there smiling at each other, the vibe in the room shifting to something I’m not used to. It’s not uncomfortable, but at the same time, it’s not us, either.
We’re saved from trying to figure out whatever this is by a knock at my door. I don’t miss the way she jumps and then tries to play it off like she’s dancing to a song that’s only in her head.
“That’s dinner.” I don’t move, even though I know I should.
“I’ll, uh, go see if I can look less vampire-y.”
We stand there for another moment before she disappears back through to her room. Shaking my head, I go to my door, finding a frazzled-looking hotel employee with a trolley of plates.
“Room service,” he says unenthusiastically.
“Thanks, man.” I move out of the way, letting him pass me with two covered plates.
“Just leave the empty dishes outside your door, and I’ll grab them later.”
“Busy tonight?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood. He appears to be in his early twenties, but his energy level says he’s either already had a long shift or he’s had a couple of days like mine.
“Oh, yeah. With that concert tonight, the hotel is filled with women playing loud music, giggling, and ordering endless snacks all day. I don’t think we’ve ever been so busy.”
“Uh, yeah… I heard there was a concert.” Acting like I don’t know about it seems better than admitting that I’m here because of it.
“If I were you, I would avoid the whole area around the arena tonight. It’s like we’re on day three of a ’90s convention out there.”
“Noted.” I wish I could. Instead, I’m about an hour away from being in the middle of what I can only call millennial chaos.
“Lucas, what do you think? Is this less sparkling vampire and more Britney Spears?” She stops once she sees that we aren’t alone. “Oh, hi.”
“Uh, hi,” the hotel employee says, raising his eyebrows at her. “I’ll, uh, leave you to it.”
Sliding him a tip concealed in a handshake, I walk him to the door. “Thanks for bringing this up.”
“You’re getting dragged to the concert tonight, aren’t you?”
“Yup…”
He looks over my shoulder and says, “Good luck,” before walking away.
“What was that about?” Julia asks, taking the covers off the dinner plates.
“Nothing.” I close the door and walk over to where she has the plates set up on the desk. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was until just now.”
“Went for the chicken strips instead of a burger, huh?” She laughs.
“I don’t see you getting one, either, Miss Clubhouse.”
“At least I’m risking a sandwich.” She takes off the top piece and pokes around, likely looking for hidden pepper.
She grabs her plate and settles into the oversized chair in the corner of the room.
“I’ll admit, I don’t think anything could top the spread from last night.
Charcuterie boards are Lunchables for adults, and no one can convince me otherwise. ”
“I don’t think I can argue with that one, actually,” I say, dunking a chicken strip in plum sauce.
Very mild and very sweet plum sauce.
The pepperoni on the bagel pizzas last night is about as spicy as I’m willing to risk right now.
“Do we have any more Sunny D?” she asks, taking a bite of her sandwich.
I pull the bottle from the mini fridge and make her a glass. “We should try to see if Milton will get any of this in the grocery store back home.”
“Good luck. Do you remember the trouble it caused when Mandy asked to get in cherry cola? He took it up with the town council, trying to get some sugar import limit passed as a by-law.”
“Right, I forgot about that. You’d think he’d want to make money off us instead of treating us like children.” I shake my head, grabbing some fries off my plate.
“I’m not entirely convinced that he actually sees us as adults yet,” she muses, taking another bite. “So tell me what you’re planning on wearing.”
“Uh, this?” I say, shifting in my seat.
“You’re joking, right?” She’s looking at me like I’ve grown a second head.
“Last I checked, there wasn’t a dress code for a pop concert. What’s wrong with jeans and a T-shirt?”
“I mean, nothing, but it’s a True North concert.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“We talked about this.” She rolls her eyes before placing her plate down on the table next to her. I let her have a moment before questioning what that means. “You obviously haven’t followed the unspoken dress code.”
“Of a concert? No, I certainly haven’t.”
“It’s a good thing I picked some things up for you then.”
“Things? What things?”
She smirks. “You’ll see.”
“I don’t like the sound of that. There’d better not be any glitter involved.”
“No glitter, I promise. Not for you, anyway.”
We chat about the night over dinner, realizing we have to hurry up and finish getting ready if we’re going to be there to get in line when the doors open.
There was something about needing to “rush for merch,” which makes me a little scared.
I don’t want to be in the throng of women making very enthusiastic—and determined—decisions over what I can only imagine are over-priced shirts and hoodies.
“I’ll go get your outfit,” she says, getting up from the chair and putting her plate onto the tray. “You’re going to love it.”
“I’m sure I won’t,” I grumble, taking the last bite of my fries.
She disappears for a moment before coming back, dropping a pile of white clothes on the bed. Her smile says she’s proud of herself, and I’m not sure if it’s because she genuinely thinks she did a good job picking these out for me, or because she knows how much I’ll hate them.
Likely a combination of both.
“I’m not wearing that,” I say.
“Come on,” she borderline whines. “You can’t be the only one not wearing white tonight.”
“I highly doubt I’ll be the only one,” I grumble.
“Please? Don’t make me show up in my outfit by myself. And it’s only a white T-shirt and shorts. It’s not like I got you the gold chains and sunglasses to go with it.”
“Sorry, the what?” I openly gape at her as flashes of millennium-style memories flood back, making me shudder.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. You lived through the same eras I did.”
“Some of us chose to forget certain parts, it seems,” I say under my breath.
“Come on, Lucas. Please?” Her big blue eyes look up at me, and I know I’m a goner.
“Fine.” I sigh, putting my plate with hers. “I’ll put these out in the hallway and then get changed.”
“Thank you! Tonight is going to be epic!” She squeals, clapping her hands together with a little jump. She rushes into her room, closing her door behind her.
I drop back onto the corner of my bed, picking up the very white T-shirt and shorts. I don’t know if I would agree that “epic” is the word I would use for it.
I wonder what I’ve done to get myself into this, but deep down, I know the answer. I would do anything for Julia, and this is no different.