Chapter 26
Gwen
Ivy retrieved a big bag of Reese’s Halloween-shaped designs from her trunk and dumped them on Celeste’s bedspread. “I was saving these for a special occasion!” Then, she unwrapped a misshapen white chocolate ghost and shoved the whole thing in her mouth.
Her eyes rolled back as she savored the confection. While the food at camp was much better than any high-school lunchroom I’d ever been in, the nutrition team was heavy on the fruits-for-dessert trend. The sweetest thing I’d had in weeks was a fresh fruit juice popsicle.
“I see your chocolate peanut butter medley and raise you Swedish Fish.” Celeste grabbed the second pillow from her bunk, and out tumbled hundreds of snack-sized bags of gummy fish.
“Woah.” Faith’s eyes went wide over the pile. “I’m not complaining, but I have a lot of questions.”
Celeste shrugged. “My mom said having snacks was a good way of making friends.”
“She was right,” I said, snatching up a package and realizing I’d been hearing the familiar crinkle in the middle of the night. “Now I know who to wake up if I need a midnight snack.”
“You mean before you sneak out?” She scrunched up her nose, and I clutched my metaphorical pearls.
“I do not sneak out!” I exaggerated the words but knew I was caught. “I just like to take nighttime strolls every once in a while.”
“Alone?” Faith squinted at me, and I felt a pang of guilt.
Ivy pointed a chocolate bat wing at Faith. “Don’t act like you haven’t snuck away for some fresh air in the moonlight.”
“I’m part vampire!” Faith’s shriek turned into a fit of giggles when Celeste threw a handful of candy at her. “Fine. Fine. There’s . . . a guy across the lake.”
My jaw dropped. And by the looks on Ivy and Celeste’s faces, they didn’t have a clue either. Our sweet, innocent, seminocturnal friend was living a double life right under our noses.
What were the odds?
Faith’s unusually pale face pinkened. “We’ve only talked. It’s nothing.”
While she didn’t look as undead as the other vampires I’d seen in movies, it was odd seeing her porcelain skin flush with color.
“How did you meet?” Celeste asked before I could.
Faith got to her feet and walked over to her bunk ladder. She climbed up, and for a moment, I thought she was going to freeze us out, but instead, she hoisted up a gallon-sized plastic bag of Oreos. “Double stuffed.”
We clapped and hooted.
“Bringing in the big guns!” I called as she rejoined the circle.
“All right.” Faith put her hands up in a triangle shape. “Cone of silence.”
Ivy and Celeste mimicked the gesture. Was this some sort of witchy pinky promise?
I held my hands up and repeated, “Cone of silence.”
Faith took a deep breath, and I knew we were in for a great story. “We met the first week of camp. I couldn’t sleep, so I went for a walk around the lake . . . but I got a little lost.” She gave us an awkward smile.
“That’s easy to do,” I said.
“Well, I thought I’d found the trail after wandering around for, like, ten minutes, but I ended up at Cryptwood.”
I thought back to the day I’d spent hours walking in circles in broad daylight. It was a miracle I’d lasted this long at camp. But as we huddled together and ate our treats and spilled our tea, I was so glad I’d been rescued.
“You’re lucky a counselor didn’t catch you,” Celeste said, stuffing a pumpkin and a ghost into her mouth.
“Oh, I know!” Faith held up her hands, embellishing her relief, then continued her story. “I’d realized I was in the wrong camp but couldn’t find my way back to the lake. Luckily, Olli was flying around and saw me.”
“Wait.” Ivy covered her mouth. “Olli?”
“Yeah?” Faith worried her lip.
“As in Olivander de Guise?” Ivy finished.
“Oh goddess.” Faith covered her face with her hands and spoke through her palms. “How terrible is his reputation?”
I looked between Ivy and Celeste as they exchanged a cringe.
Ivy pointed at Celeste, volunteering her to divulge the valuable local gossip.
I wondered what it would have been like to know the same group of children through grade school, watching as your yearbook photos changed just as drastically as your relationships.
“It’s nothing bad, but . . .” Ivy’s gaze darted between Faith and Celeste.
“You know he’s vampire royalty, right?” Celeste finally burst out. “His family has been around since the 1700s. He’s basically a vampire prince.”
Faith’s hands sank to her lap just as fast as her jaw dropped. Her fangs looked a tad longer than they had a moment ago. “Shut up. How did I not know that?” she screeched. “I mean, he definitely seemed a bit fancy, but a prince?”
“I can’t believe he didn’t tell you!” Ivy balked. “He never shuts up about it in school.”
“He went away to his family home in France after graduation. Maybe he lost his ego on the way back,” Celeste speculated, which sent us into fits of giggles that lasted into the evening.
We gossiped and told stories of past failed relationships well into the night like a big, witchy slumber party.
None of us wanted to be the first to fall asleep, but we all knew that we’d be dragging our magical asses in the morning.
But making ourselves sick on candy and our bellies ache from fits of laughter was well worth it.