True sighed as the crowd began to move and writhe, people excitedly getting into line, laughing and poking fun at each other. This wasoneway to kill some time without having to make a lot of small talk, True supposed. Igor and the library would have to wait. She’d just give the brush to each person, let them do their thing, and keep the line moving.
“Mind if I join you as co-protector?”
Divested of his bow and arrow now, Orion had reappeared beside her, strong hands clamping around Wicked Wynona’s torso and moving her into a more suitable position for the line of teenagers jostling for her to grant their wishes.
True shrugged, tugging at her bun self-consciously. “I mean, sure. If you really want to.”
Orion said, solemnly, “It would be an honor to stand here with you, watching inebriated teenagers brush out this decrepit mannequin’s human hair.”
True snorted, impressed. “Was that a touch of sarcasm? Didn’t think you had it in you, to be honest.”
He smiled, as bright as his namesake. “I’m a man of multitudes, Miss Tandon. Stick with me, and I’ll show you.”
She knew he was joking, but still. In that moment, shewantedto stick with him, she found, if even just for a little bit longer.
Feeling a little discombobulated by that weird thought, the sheer wattage of his smile, and his familiar manner (it was starting to feel like she’d known Orion Parker for a while, instead of a matter of minutes), True looked away, pretending to need to adjust her mask. She fidgeted a lot around Orion, she noticed. “Ah, so. I guess the ‘ghost’ I saw was really just Wicked Wynona. She was probably stashed in the mudroom and I got confused about what I was looking at.”
“Mm-hmm.” Orion gave her an opaque look, as if he wasn’t buying it. And truth be told, True’s explanation didn’t really make a lot of sense—she’d seen the figure glowing and floating; she’d seen its piercing blue eyes looking right at her. Wicked Wynona’s eyes were a glassy, dull black, and her hair was red and gnarly.Andshe was wearing a shiny purple dress with a lurid green paisley scarf. The figure True had seen had been wearing a floaty silver dress with a flower-and-pumpkin crown on her blond head. Plus, Wicked Wynona was seriously heavy. She wasn’t about to defy gravity anytime soon, like the mudroomfigure had done. And lastly, Wicked Wynona had been in the den. True had seen the figure in the mudroom.
It bugged True that she hadn’t arrived at a satisfactory explanation yet. If she could get to the mudroom, she might be able to take some soil samples for further testing to see if the intruder had come in from outside—
Her thoughts were interrupted by their first “customer,” Jemma, a transfer student from England, who bit her lip as she considered Wicked Wynona. “There are just so many things I could ask for. Gosh, it’s a bit intimidating, isn’t it? What doyouthink I should wish for?”
True looked around and realized the girl was talking to her. As if she were any kind of expert on the supernatural. “Oh. Um… I don’t know. Why don’t you think about it quietly while you brush.” She pushed the hairbrush into Jemma’s small hands, and, looking slightly taken aback, Jemma did as True said.
Orion gave True a look she couldn’t decipher. To Jemma, he said, kindly, “Usually, people make wishes about the big things in life: love, money, or health. Maybe that’s helpful?”
Jemma smiled at him. “Yeah. It is, actually. Thank you.”
When she’d brushed, whispered, and gone her way, True raised an eyebrow at Orion. “What?”
He shrugged, big shoulders moving in his costume shirt. “I think you try to push people away on purpose.”
A group of seniors was next, all cackling and jostling each other. True handed one of them the brush and turned back to Orion. The seniors weren’t paying attention to anything elsebesides themselves, so she didn’t bother lowering her voice. “Duh. I’m not a fan, in case you haven’t noticed.”
Orion frowned. “Of?”
“Human interaction.”
Orion crossed his arms and grinned at her. “See, I think that’s just because you haven’t met your person yet. The one who holds the key to unlock that heart of yours.”
True broke eye contact, her cheeks burning. Not because Orion was semi-flirting with her (shethought;of course, she was illiterate in flirting and could be utterly, totally, and devastatingly wrong), but because she thought shehadmet her person, not too long ago. And she’d been—again—utterly, totally, and devastatingly wrong.
A couple she didn’t know dressed as Cleopatra and Mark Antony came forward once the cackling seniors had left, and True handed Cleopatra the brush.
Surprising herself, she said to Orion, “That’s not entirely accurate. I did meet someone, and I really, really liked him. And it ended hideously. You know why? Because boys suck. Dating sucks. Love sucks. It allsucks.” Her fists clenched, and to her horror, True felt hot tears pricking at her eyes. Blinking furiously, she looked away.
Mark Antony gave her a look, then took his girlfriend’s hand and left.
Orion cocked his head. “Hey.” He waited until she met his eye again. The expression on his face was sympathetic, his golden-brown eyes warm and open. “I’m sorry. What was his name?”
“Bradley.” She felt goose bumps on her arms just saying hisname out loud. She’d spent so long conditioning herselfnotto talk about him. Onny and Ash would never say it, but she knew they’d gotten pretty tired of hearing her dissect every last expression on Bradley’s face when she passed him in the school halls. Now, talking about him felt… weird. Almost superstitious, like she was inviting trouble or more heartbreak into her life.
“Why didn’t it work out between you two?”
There was no morbid curiosity on Orion’s face, just genuine, compassionate interest. A group of students dressed as various Alice in Wonderland characters walked up, interrupting her before she could answer. They were likely from North Pointe; she didn’t know them, but they all said hi to Orion, who spent a few moments chatting with them.
Using the distraction as an opportunity, True took a deep breath. In the background and in her chest, happy party music thumped, totally out of sync with how she was feeling.
