“Don’t even get me started. My feet are in agony,” he hissed before turning to Esme and plastering a smile on his face. It was a few doey-eyed seconds and a kiss later (all things I wascompletely used to), before Isaac turned to me and took in my non-costume costume. “What are you? I mean, it’s a great dress, Quince, but you look like you’re about to attend your own engagement party.”
“Who says I’m not?”
“The fact that you spend every waking moment of your life watching old films or reading about creepy shit in the library,” Isaac mused.
“Babe, her reading about ‘creepy shit in the library’is calledstudying,” Esme chimed in.
I gave her an appreciative nod before looking up at her boyfriend. “I didn’t really have any time to prepare. Ez called me like four hours ago. I’m just telling myself I’m a demon bride or something like that. You know, spooky in theory, but the execution leaves things to be desired.”
“Do you think demons are hot?” Esme laughed.
“I mean, if I’m marrying one, I certainly hope so.”
Esme looked up at her boyfriend, a shit-eating grin pulling at the corners of her mouth. “Well, seeing as Quincey isn’t actually getting married. Are there any guys from the Lacrosse team that we could set her up with?—”
“I don’t want to be?—”
“Sweetie, you look really hot right now. I wouldhatefor this dress to go to waste,” Esme added, winking at me and pulling all dating autonomy from beneath my feet.
“Hmm, maybe, I’ll ask around,” Isaac said as if lost in deep thought.
“Don’t ask arou?—”
‘You spend every waking minute with those men, how do younotknow?” Esme looked up at her boyfriend with a face that made me snort theCreepy EyeballI’d just picked up through my nose. “You seriously don’t know if any of them are single or not?”
“We don’t talk about that kind of stuff, babe.” He shrugged. “Plus, we can’t just set little old Quincey Sterling up with anyone now, can we? I’d need to give them the whole ‘hurt her and die’spiel.” A few of Isaac’s friends arrived a moment later, and he stalked off to greet them before I could get another word out about him going along with Esme’s plan.
Damn the alcohol coursing its way through my system, because if I wanted to be annoyed, I simply couldn’t. The moment Esme turned back to look at me, rolling her eyes and smiling about how ridiculous boys were, all I could do was giggle. And this was pretty much how the last six years had gone. I love them. I loved us. Other than my grandparents, this cowboy-clad power couple was pretty much my family. I knew everything about them, they knew everything about me, and despite all my insecurities, flaws, and painfully awkward mannerisms, they seemed to love me anyway.
I really wasn’t sure when the anxiety had started. All I knew was that I’d spent most of my life questioning everything I said and did, whilst existing in a perpetual state of fight or flight since it had started. It was like a fog had settled in and just never left. Or like I’d stepped inside some sort of cage inside myself that was growing ever smaller. No matter how hard I tried to bang on the bars or pull at the lock, I couldn’t get myself out.
But Esme and Isaac met my anxieties with love, each and every time. I never burdened them with my emotions, and given that I felt things very inwardly, I think it was difficult for anyone to really get a read on me. Hence, the lack of friends. But these two had this knack, thissuperpowerof pulling me out of my own head and helping me forget my stupid doubts, even if just for a little bit.
I was pulled from my thoughts by the flash of a camera. “Ooooo, that is going straight on my story and in my photo dump tomorrow. The caption: ‘Is anyone else’s best friend an indiemovie protagonist?’”Esme giggled as she turned her phone toward me and showed me the photo. I hated photos of myself, but I guess I lookedokay.The champagne dress I wore hugged me in all the right places and contrasted well with my waist-length curly hair that hung behind me. My facial expression gave moreCat Stratfordthanmysterious girl,but that was the curse of resting-unimpressed-face.
Just as I was about to protest that photo going anywhere other than our group chat with Isaac, which they had graciously namedQuincey Sterling’s Day Offafter my favourite film of all time, Esme pulled me out of the kitchen and into the large living space that the Zeta Sigma Noctura house had turned into a dance floor. The quiet kitchen with the odd straggler had lulled me into a misplaced sense of security because there werea lotof people at this party. The lights had been dimmed, and people were laughing, dancing, doing shots, and sniffinggod knows whatoff keys as they moved to the music.
I was graciously bopping my head in the corner whenI Want You To Want Meby Cheap Trick blasted through the speakers. Esme pulled me onto the dance floor before Isaac and a few additional guys from the lacrosse team came to join us. Two were dressed as the Men In Black which was amusing given how terrible their dance moves were and the third was dressed in royal blue overalls and a green undershirt and hat.No moustache though.But a very standard costume, all things considered.
“Hi, I’m Toddy.”Of course you are.
Tall, blonde, with a slightly too-square face that wasn’t unattractive but slightly peculiar to me, nonetheless, meaning every time this man had spoken to me previously, it was really all I could think about.
“What’s your name?”
I don’t know why I even bothered responding. This was one of those painful, socially awkward moments I’d mulled over inmy head before coming. Not aboutToddyspecifically but just this very thing happening in general. Because I’d met this man already.Twice.And both times he had hit on me. The problem was that Toddy was always just a little too drunk to have any memory of it the next day, meaning I was stuck in this never-ending cycle of introducing myself to a man who never seemed to remember me.
“It’s Quincey.”
“Ooo, like the pie?” A niche reference. One that he had made every time we’d had this conversation. “Are you having a nice time? What’s your costume? I’m Luigi.”
“Where’s Mario?” I asked him, yelling over the music as he leaned down into me to hear what I was saying, before laughing a little enthusiastically.
“He’s upstairs with Harley Quinn. I believe she needed some help with her plumbing.”
No, Toddy, no. Ugh. Awful joke.
C+ for effort and being in the realm of pun-related, but overall, I had to say the joke was relatively subpar in the land of sexual innuendos that could have been made there. I ducked out of the dance floor the moment some heavy bass music reverberated through the house. All the lacrosse boys and several other guys from other sports teams descended upon the dance floor, giving me ample room to escape the painful conversation I was having.
