Her eyes go very round and very wide. “Cadence de Morel, has a spirit possessed you?”
I grit my molars at the mention of spirits and possession. Why oh why did she have to mention the occult?
“No.” My tone’s as dry as the inside of my mouth. I wedge my arm more firmly around the champagne and trample the snow toward Adrien’s two-story, gray stone house that glows like a beacon in the cold winter night.
“You okay?” Alma has to trot to keep up with me.
I expel a breath that clings to the air. “I’ve just realized life is short.” Emilie’s body floats up behind my lids. “And I don’t want to die a virgin.”
“Okay.” I can tell she’s still confused, because her eyebrows haven’t leveled out yet. “In case you change your mind, let’s come up with a safe word, and I’ll whisk you away from any potential regrets. How about . . .arctic fox?”
“That’s going to be easy to place in a conversation.”
My sarcasm reboots Alma’s good mood. As she brushes her wedged-heel boots against the bristly doormat, I stick the bottle in her arms to switch up my footwear, then clap my rubber boots together.
Two more people show up behind us: Liron and his older brother, a senior like Charlotte. If I’m not mistaken he used to date Charlotte’s bestie, Jasmine.
“Salut.” Liron grins at us. “Caleb was worried there wouldn’t be anyone at this party. Besides Jas, Char, and Adrien, that is.”
Alma sucks in air. “God, I didn’t even think about that.”
I hadn’t either. “That would’ve been . . .”
“Awkward?” Caleb supplies with a smile that doesn’t curve his eyes or make them shine like Slate’s.
Which is a good thing since I don’t want a second Slate. I jam my finger into the doorbell. The door swings open, releasing a rush of warm air scented by cigarettes, weed, and melted cheese.
“Come in, come in!” Charlotte gushes over the loud music, her eyes so glossy I assume the drink in her hand isn’t her first. As I step past her, she asks, “Where’s Slate?”
I put my wet shoes down under the coat hanger by the door that’s overflowing with wintry jackets and add mine to the pile. “He couldn’t make it.”
“Aw, man. Jas is going to be soooo disappointed,” she slurs.
I know it’s petty but I can’t help thinking:good.“Where’s Adrien?” I take the giant bottle of Amour de Deutz from Alma’s hands.
“He’s in the kitchen, trying to salvage the mini-quiches I overcooked.” She wrinkles her nose. “Anyway, grab a drink, or a blunt. Make yourselves comfortable. And do away with those hideous facemasks.” Since neither Alma nor I nor the boys are wearing any, I imagine she’s addressing another invitee. Sure enough two more people stand on the threshold of the house. “I have it on good authority that this virus isn’t as contagious as we thought. Geoffrey told me.” She adds a sloppy wink.
If I were Jasmine or Adrien, I’d forcibly remove her glass and make her drink some water. I mean, it’s only 7:15 p.m.
I head through the living room to the open kitchen where Adrien hisses a string of expletives when his fingers connect to a sheet pan.
I smile. Can’t help it. It’s not that often I get to see cool and collected Adrien so domestically frazzled. “Want some help?”
He looks up from the burnt quiches. For half a second, he stares as though he doesn’t recognize me, then he blinks and grunts, “Thanks for coming to my surprise party.”
My smile grows. The fact that Charlotte didn’t know he’d hate it increases my opinion about their lack of durability. “Not what you had in mind to celebrate the big 2-4?”
“Not even close.” He stares past me at the crowd thickening like the snow on his windowsills. “In all honesty, I was hoping the fake outbreak would throw a wrench in her plan, but then my father had to go ahead and mention how this virus—”
“Isn’t all that contagious. I heard.” I prop the champagne bottle on the bar.
“Most of these kids are my students,” he adds in a hushed voice.
“Your girlfriend is your student, Adrien.”
“No. Shewasmy student. I never crossed that line.” He shoves a lock of gelled hair back with his bare forearm and reads the label on the golden bottle. His eyes snap back to mine. “That’s much too good to drink tonight. I’ll put it away for when we’re done with the . . .puzzle.”
“Ah, the puzzle.” I sigh as he sticks the bottle under the sink, next to a fire extinguisher and cleaning supplies. “I wish I’d already gotten my leaf.”
