I rolled my eyes, outwardly calm but a jumbled mess inside, knowing I needed to change the subject before she teased more information out of me. “Areyougoing to the masquerade?”
“I wish.” Digging in her backpack, she pulled out a yellow highlighter. “I know you’re changing the subject.” Her face softened. “But whoever hot, mystery guy is, I’m happy he rescued you. I’m sorry Brian has turned into such an ass over the past few years. He never deserved you.”
“Thank you.” I nodded and swallowed, unable to say anything over the lump of gratitude at the back of my throat.
“You know,” she said as she nibbled on the highlighter, “since neither of us have a plus one, why don’t we go together? God, I need some fun. And so do you.”
“I don’t know, Tara. Finding a costume sounds expensive, and Mom and I aren’t exactly swimming in a sea of money. She needed help with the electric bill this month, so I’m down to my last fifty dollars until payday next Friday.”
“Who says we need to buy costumes? Let’s run to the hobby store. They have cheap, blank masks, and we can split the cost of feathers and gemstones to decorate them.” Her eyes sparkled, and she cackled with excitement. “Then, we can get secondhand dresses from the thrift shop downtown. Mom can alter them if we need it.” Tara pressed her hands together as if praying. “Come on, please say yes.”
I hesitated. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I don’t know how to dance.” The thought of me out there pretending I had moves made me cringe.
“Oh, believe me, I know. How many sleepovers have we had? You move like a praying mantis.”
“Hey, I’m notthatbad.” I gave her a mock glare.
She raised an eyebrow. “I’m going to choose not to argue over your dancing skills because I really want to do this. Besides, I don’t have a lot of rhythm either, but who cares? Let’s go have fun for once. All we do is study and work. We’re not even twenty, yet we act like perfectly balanced grownups.” She resettled herself into her chair and grabbed her phone, typing on the screen. “We need to let go every now and again, act our age. Ireallywant to go. It’ll be fun, I promise.” She batted her eyelashes as she pouted her lips in exaggeration. “Puh-lease, Phoebe Cakes, my most favorite best friend?”
“Youronlybest friend,” I mumbled through a smirk, giving up on any sort of pretense of studying. Seeing how much going to the masquerade meant to her, and tickled by her persistence, I gave in. “Fine. But you know I don’t have a crafty bone in my body. My mask is going to look crappy.”
“Yes.” After her excited clapping which echoed in the airy, three-story tall library, Tara let out a small squeal. “Thank you, bestie.”
Mrs. Pennington, the head librarian—and my boss—cut her eyes toward Tara and scowled.
Bet I’ll be hearing about my noisy friend when I work tomorrow.
“Our costumes are going to turn out wonderful. Don’t worry.” She flashed her phone’s screen in my direction. “I’ve already found several DIY websites for some ideas. We”—flinging her arms out wide to either side of her body, she raised her chin and grinned—“are going to become queens by the time I’m finished.”
“I thought the theme was angels and demons,” I teased.
“You and I will be their goddesses.”
Snickering, I shook my head and thumbed through my notebook, hoping she’d settle down enough so we could study.
She’s right, though. I need a break to let loose and live a little.
An old-fashioned masquerade sounded downright charming, fun, and perfect for decompressing.
