The pairs moved to the front of the stage: Tucker and me, the Joker and Harley Quinn, Coraline and Wybie, and then Rhett and Aria as Gomez and Wednesday. I had to suppress a smile as some faces in the audience were clearly disturbed by the father/daughter pairing.
“It’s okay, Em,” Tucker said in my ear, his breath reeking of liquor. “I came on too strong. I get that. But we’re perfect together, and you know it.”
“No. I can’t do this anymore.”
“Come on, babe. The election is in a few days. Let’s not do any crazy shit until then.”
“Tucker, it’sover,” I said, but my words were drowned out by the DJ moving to stand behind us.
“And now we have…Ken and Barbie!”
Tucker fist pumped and pointed at his friends. I smiled my pretty smile and waited for it to be over, so I could go home to my bed and cry forever.
We started to get off the stage when someone from the crowd shouted, “Wait! What about Barbenheimer?”
“Barbenheimer!” someone echoed.
Others took up the call, and soon enough, a guy in a suit and an old-timey hat was being pushed to the stage.
Xander…
He’d put in contacts and his hair was tucked under the hat, revealing more of his handsome face than usual. Just like I’d suggested.
“Hold on, Barbie,” the DJ said. “Looks like we have another contender. Oppenheimer, come on up!”
Tucker glared murderous daggers but restrained himself from making a scene and stepped aside as Xander joined me. Xander looked like a deer in headlights, clearly uncomfortable with the attention.
“For your consideration,” the DJ bellowed, “Barbenheimer!”
The crowd went wild—mostly girls who were really seeing Xander for the first time. To me, his glasses didn’t make him less attractive, but now his handsomeness was plainly obvious—beautiful angular features, those eyes, and even his clothes. Six feet of lean hotness in a plain suit.
I felt a certain happiness that the crowd loved him, but my heart cracked again too. It was tradition for the winners to dance together, like newlyweds at their wedding. A wild laugh nearly burst out of me. Or maybe it was a sob.
“The audience has spoken! Barbenheimer it is!” The DJ returned to his booth. “And for this special couple, their own special song.”
The rest of the hopefuls left the stage, Tucker dragged off by Rhett and Orion and pacified with the flask. For now.
“What is happening right now?” Xander asked me.
“I’m Barbie, you’re Oppenheimer. Barbenheimer. The two movies came out on the same day, so it became a thing for people to see both.”
“My costume isn’t J. Robert Oppenheimer. I’m dressed as my dad. This is the suit and hat he wore when he gave his dissertation at MIT.”
“They don’t know that, and now we’re the Best Couple.” I took his hand, that wild, reckless energy still coursing through my veins. “Come on. It’s time for our dance. It’s tradition.”
I led him to the center of the dance floor. A spotlight fell on us as Billie Eilish’s “What Was I Made For?” played over the sound system.
I moved to put my arms around his neck, but Xander took my right hand in his left, the old-fashioned way. My left went around his shoulder while his other hand found my waist. From the edge of the dance floor, Tucker and Rhett were talking with heads bowed, eyes on us, while my friends whispered and murmured.
But then, at the sensation of being held by Xander, the entire world faded out, and all that remained was his hand holding mine, his arm around me, his nearness. The out-of-control feeling didn’t go away but mellowed from something hot and fiery into something molten and warm.
“I’m sorry,” Xander said, his gaze darting over the crowd watching us. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
My eyes filled again. “Do you mean this dance? Or when you touched my face the other day? Or the way you’re looking at me right now?”
“Emery…”
His expression was a mix of pain and want. Desire. I could see it plain as day because I felt it too.
