Orion laughed appreciatively and relaxed against the couch, still turned sideways so he could see her. He pulled his long legs up onto the couch, but even sitting, he towered over her, blocking out the big painting on the wall behind him. It madeher feel… ensconced. And small. True wasn’t sure how she felt about that. “I like that. Marie S-curie. So I’m guessing you’re into science, then.”
“Science, tech, fixing things… anything that’s tangible and provable.”
Orion pulled back a little, giving her a rakish smile that made her stomach feel like she’d swallowed a helium balloon. Ridiculous. “So you don’t believe in the magic of the quadricentennial? The ‘Founders’ Fable’? Even though the Lady of Moon Ridge’s star seems to be magically missing from the sky?”
Before she answered, a group of seniors began suddenly shrieking over something they’d found floating in the pitcher of homemade juice Mr. Brightside had brought. (It was probably just one of his special touches, like frozen grapes made to look like eyeballs, or baby carrots painted with homemade indelible jam to look like decapitated fingers. And yeah, he’d totally put carrots and jam into his juice—Mr. B committed 150 percent when he was going for macabre.)
When the chaos had died down a bit, True spoke again. “Not even a little bit.” She leaned forward over her fizzing can of Dr Pepper, her eyes beckoning Orion. He leaned in closer in response, ready to hear whatever she had to say. This close, she could see that his eyelashes were lighter toward the tips, sun-bleached, and she could smell him—citrus soap and a spicy, warm deodorant. True took a breath, turning her wayward thoughts back to the present conversation. “You know what happens every four hundred years?”
Orion’s lighter eyes were trained on her dark ones, his lips justslightly parted, as if he were hanging on her every word. “No.” True’s stomach swooped, actually swooped, as if she were on a roller coaster, at his low, rumbly voice.Wtf, body?“What?”
Quietly, True replied, “We can say four hundred more years have passed.” She cocked an eyebrow while she waited for that to sink in, and added, in a normal voice, “That’s it. Four more centuries have gone by, as they’re supposed to, because that’s the way time works. Nothing magical, nothing special, just the human need to attach significance to insignificant things. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, if it’s your thing. It’s just… not really my thing.” She sat back and took a swig of her soda. A moment later, uncertainty hit. She studied Orion’s expression while nibbling on her lower lip. This was the exact kind of thing Bradley would’ve called her out on before telling her to relax.
Orion didn’t move. But he didn’t look like he was offended or annoyed, either. “Wow,” he said after a minute, running a hand through his hair. It flopped back in a perfectly thick, blond wave onto his forehead. “So you don’t believe in anything you can’t see or prove scientifically?” He seemed genuinely interested in her answer.
A catchy pop song began to play over the state-of-the-art sound system Onny’s parents installed a week ago. True, Ash, and Onny had broken it in with an epic karaoke jam session the first night it was put in. Ah, simpler times.
Now True frowned at Orion’s question. “Of course not. Why would I?”
“Many reasons.” Orion’s tone was light as he drummed his fingers on the back of the couch. He adjusted his legs so hisknees were pressed very lightly against True’s leg, though she didn’t think he knew that. Her lab coat and dress were voluminous enough that it was hard to tell where they ended and True began. She considered moving, but… didn’t. Orion held up long fingers as he listed each reason. “To maintain a sense of wonder and mysticism about the universe. To acknowledge that humans don’t have all the answers, even though we like to think we do. To tip our heads back and look at the stars and imagine the magic and havoc they play in our lives.”
Uh-oh. Had she offended him? She hadn’t meant to, but it was sometimes hard to contain the truth-spouting disease she suffered from. True glanced around at the party happening in full swing around them. People were gyrating to music all over Onny’s gigantic living room and kitchen (and more were down in the basement, the official nexus of debauchery); a few were playing various drinking games away from the watchful eyes of adults, and the giant metal wall clock told her it was just past eleven o’clock. She could leave at midnight; Onny had promised her she didn’t have to stay beyond that. Less than sixty minutes. That was hardly any time at all. And bonus: Bradley had yet to make an appearance. Maybe they’d miss each other all night and True could go home a happy woman.
She supposed she could get up and go talk to someone else for a bit before she unintentionally offended Orion Parker some more, but she needed to pace herself. If True hurried off every time someone talked to her about magic or the quadricentennial anniversary, she’d run out of people to converse with in about sixteen seconds flat. She could talk to this worryingly cute, albeitthoroughly unscientific dude for a few more minutes before she ran away. The trick was to change the subject to a less controversial topic.
She bobbed her head at his costume, which came with a bow and arrow that he’d set neatly beside him on the couch. “What are you, Cupid?”
A flash of hurt played across Orion’s face, like lightning across a stormy sky. “Actually,” he said stiffly, gathering his bow and arrow, “I’m pretty intelligent. But I can take a hint. If you want me to go—”
She grabbed his (wow, strong) forearm before she could process what she was doing. “No, wait.” True leaned toward him and spoke loudly, over the thumping, roiling music. “I didn’t call you stupid. I saidCupid.You know, your costume.” She pointed to his bow and arrow. It occurred to her in the next moment that she could’ve just let him go. Huh. She didn’t know why, exactly, she’d asked Orion to stay. Or why it had bothered her that he seemed hurt, or why she was explaining herself to him.
Orion glanced at the bow and arrow, and then his face relaxed, his eyes turning bright and happy again. “Ohhhh.” He shook his head, the bridge of his nose crinkling in mirth. “Totallymisheard you there.”
True found herself staring at him brazenly, her soda forgotten, before she caught herself. Her hand tightened around the cold can, crumpling it a little.Get yourself together, Tandon. Jesus. Do you want another boy-sized hole in your heart?No, she did not, thank you very much. She didn’t know how much perforation aheart could take before it ceased being a heart completely, and she wasn’t in any hurry to find out.
True cleared her throat and took a drink, keeping her voice coolly casual. “So, anyway, what are you?”
Orion gestured to his costume, which was comprised of a brown top, pants, boots, and a brown belt. “I actually took this off because it kept falling off,” he said, pulling a pin out of his pocket and pinning it to his chest, “but the costume makes more sense with it on.” The pin was the classic Ghostbusters symbol, with a white ghost in the center and a red circle with a line through it.
“Ghost-busting?” True frowned. “But with a bow and arrow?”
“Well, my name is Orion.” He smiled and put his hands on his slim waist, his shoulders all broad and pleasing, as if he were posing for a very cheesy but very hot senior photo. “Who, in Greek mythology, is—”
“The hunter,” True finished, playing with the tab on her soda can. “And the Ghostbusters pin… oh. You’re a ghost hunter.”
“Ding ding ding!” Orion took a seated mock bow. “You got it.”
“But Idon’tget it,” True said, shaking her head. “Why are you dressed like—”
The words dissipated from her suddenly dry mouth like fog burning up in the sun. True sat up straighter and blinked, looking into the dimly lit mudroom, which lay beyond the dining room and kitchen to her left.
A female figure hovered there. She wore a crown of pumpkins and flowers, and long blond hair fell in waves to her waist. Her pale skin seemed to glow as if lit from within, and she wasdressed in a long wedding dress the color of moonlight. The hem of the dress floated about four inches off the floor.
What?
At first True thought it was a special effect Onny’s parents had bought to make the party more Halloween-y. Ithadto be. But then… why had no one else noticed the figure? People were standing, like, six feet from her.
There had to be a logical explanation. True’s mind flew through the possibilities in .03 seconds: swamp gas, electrical malfunction, northern lights, carbon monoxide poisoning—
