“Because you told him to. It doesn’t make him evil, but it definitely makes his motive to stick around Brume questionable.”
“He’s the son of the Rolands! That’s why he’s sticking around.” I didn’t mention the Bloodstone, which hehadstolen from my mother. Oh, God, they were right . . . Still, I said, “He’s not here to steal my inheritance. He’s got one of his own.”
“You can still have fun with him, just be careful.” Alma tapped the charm bracelet I’d inherited from Maman. “Might want to take that off.”
She and my father managed to plant a toxic seed that grew as the hours ticked by. He was a thief and a gigolo. He didn’t fit in Brume.
On the fifth day, I needed to get out of my house. But to go where? The streets hadn’t been cleared and the weather was bleak, like my mood. As though I’d broadcasted my desire for an escape, I received an offer in the form of a text message.
CHARLOTTE:Surprise birthday party at Adrien’s tonight. 7 p.m. I know you and him are close so come. And you can bring Slate. ;)
ME:I’ll be there.
I said nothing about Slate ortoSlate. But I did call Alma.
* * *
I hugthe magnum of champagne I took from Papa’s cellar to my chest as I slog through the snow to Third Kelc’h. The weather’s awful, but I still wore a dress and packed a pair of heeled booties inside my fabric tote to replace my heavy-duty rubber snow boots.
“Cadence!” I turn to find Alma plowing toward me. “Look at you.” She lets out a wolf whistle.
I’m tempted to roll my eyes. “I straightened my hair and put on mascara.”
“And lipstick.”
“Just gloss.”
“Ugh. That’s right. Your lips are already stupidly so red. You do know I hate you for that.” She catches up to me, and we resume our walk. “How are you feeling today? About . . . you know . . .him whom we shall not name.”
I’ve come to terms with the fact that the kiss Slate and I shared was our last.
“Fine,” I lie. My heart feels as crushed as the snow beneath my boots. I think of Emilie, and her fate puts my dilemma in perspective.
“You know what the best way to get over someone is?”
“No. What?”
“Getting under someone else.” Alma waggles her eyebrows.
I sigh, because she’s right. I got over my crush on Adrien by crushing on Slate. Now, I need to find someone else. Except I know everyone else in Brume, and considering our town is under fake-quarantine, there’s no way Charlotte invited out-of-towners to her little party.
“I have the worst taste in men.”
Alma bumps her shoulder into mine. “You don’t. Brume just offers limited variety.”
“You live here too, and you don’t end up wanting all the wrong ones.”
“Because I’mwayless picky. Not to mention, I’m not looking for long-term.”
“I don’t want long-term.”
Alma raises a single eyebrow. “Really?”
“Yes, really.”
She lets out an eloquent snort. “Since when?”
“Since tonight. You know what? Tonight, I’m going to hook up with someone, and I’m going to have a one-night-stand.”
