“Broody. Introspective. Stubborn.” He smirks. “Hot.”
Fighting a smile, I turn back to Axel. “Still not sure I want to go.”
“Told you she was a party pooper,” Rachel mutters under her breath.
“Nooo, Lina, come on,” Nik whines dramatically.
“Yeah, comeee,” Jessie adds, mimicking him with a goofy grin. “You’ve never partied with us before. It’s basically a rite of passage.”
“I don’t even have a costume,” I argue weakly.
“That’s the easiest part,” Jessie says with a wave of her hand.
“How do you figure? It’s the day of. I’m not driving all the way to the mall after school, and all the local shops were picked over weeks ago.”
Jessie leans in like she’s about to deliver the wisdom of the ages. “We’re girls.”
I stare blankly.
Her eyes sparkle. “Throw on something skimpy, swipe on some eyeliner, and wear a hat. Bam! You’re a witch. Or a cat. Or asexy librarian. We don’t do ‘accuracy.’ We do ‘hot.’”
“I don’t have a witch hat.”
“I do.” She grins wider. “You can borrow it.”
Crap. I’m running out of excuses.
“I don’t know…”
“You’re coming,” Axel says, no room for argument in his tone. “You’re not staying home on Halloween to study. You need to let loose and have some fun. We’re leaving at nine. I’m kidnapping you whether or not you’re ready.”
I narrow my eyes at him in a silent challenge. He doesn’t back down. Of course he doesn’t.
With a resigned sigh, I toss my hands in the air. “Fine. But if this ends with one of us puking, I’m holding you personally responsible.”
Chapter 20
After dinner, I spend the rest of the evening in my room spiraling over what the hell to wear. I don’t own anything overtly slutty, or even mildly suggestive, and I have no clue what the “too much” threshold is for Halloween in Tennessee.
Eventually, I cave and video chat Jessie.
She all but claps when I show her the contents of my closet. “We’ve got options, babe. Don’t worry.”
An hour later, I’ve Frankenstein-ed a costume from my limited wardrobe. We settle on “dark academia witch,” which is really just code for “cute, all black clothing.” Jessie gives me a smoky-eye tutorial, and we end up staying on the phone while we both do our hair and makeup.
By nine, I’m ready, and surprisingly, I don’t hate how I look. I throw on a new pea coat, courtesy of Maryanne, to guard against the crisp fall chill and step into the hallway.
Axel’s already waiting.
He glances up when I open my door.
“Wow.”
His eyes rake over my hair and makeup, lingering.
I could say the same thing back. I don’t know what his costume is supposed to be, but it’s clearly just an excuse to look dangerously good. He’s dressed head-to-toe in black, wearing a fitted tee that clings to his chest and arms like it was tailored just for him, ripped black jeans, and scuffed combat boots. His hair’s a little messy, in that deliberate, infuriating way.
“Yeah?” I ask, running a self-conscious hand through my straightened hair. I’m wearing more makeup than I’m used to. Dark eyeshadow, a sharp flick of liner, mascara, and faux lashes. My blue eyes pop under the dark tones.
