Evie scoffs. “Yeah you are.”
“Why the hell would I go to a party where everyone hates me?” I glare at her in the reflection.
“We don’t hate you, and we’ll be going.” Tori’s words make me still. They’re so reminiscent of my first day, before everything went tits up.
“Why?”
“What?”
“Why don’t you hate me like everyone else?” I look at Tori, then flick my eyes to Evie and Brynne. The question is to all of them, really.
She gives me a small, tenuous smile when our eyes meet again. “You helped me realize that I don’t want to be someone who others apologize for.”
There’s an awkward silence before Lisette clears her throat. “Are we ready for accessories?” That jolts the girls into movement once more, letting the heaviness of that fleeting moment between us pass.
Lisette assures me I don’t need anything with this dress, save for some high heels since its would be crime to alter the hem for my height. Three hours later, she assures us that all four dresses, shoes, and accessories will be delivered to Maeve’s shop on campus where we can get any last minute adjustments made.
“Any place to get a drink around here?” I groan as we leave Lisette’s shop, burnt out by the last twenty-four hours and shivering in the cold evening air as the daylight fades. Evenif this small town doesn’t have a dispensary, theremustbe somewhere to get a little fucked up.
“Oh let’s go to Wyckd!” Brynne suggests. Apparently it’s some sort of dance-club-pub combo—not quite big enough to be a club, not small enough to be bar. At this point, I’m too exhausted to care, so they lead the way and soon we’re entering the pub portion of the building. There are tables, booths, and live edge bar top that looks like it was taken from a single—fuckinghuge—tree. Except behind this one, there’s row and rows of colorful bottles that go nearly up to the ceiling.
There’s literally top shelf liquor, and I can’t help but chuckle. Daly’s never had any of this shit, but the familiar sights, sounds, and smells are strangely comforting: that hoppy scent in the air combined with notes of citrus and mint garnishes. The clamor of conversation that grows louder as the evening progresses and the alcohol keeps flowing. I feel more at home here than I have my entire time on campus.
Maybe they’re hiring.
“Over here!” Evie calls out, leading us through throngs of people and tables to a corner booth with a view of the dance floor side. There’s even a little hook for our coats which I’m thankful for when the warm air quickly becomes stifling.
A waitress takes our orders, and soon I’m feeling more relaxed than I have in weeks listening to the others talk as I sip my beer. Brynne buys us a round of shots. Then Tori, and Evie. And I feel guilty for not wanting to spend any more of my stipend after spending god-knows-what on that dress, but with everything they’ve done for me—likefriendsdo—it’s the least I can do to buy the next round.
The room spins a little when I stand and make my way to the restrooms as my bladder demands, before ordering more shots. There’s no trace of that darkness when I look in the mirror thistime. Just Nyx Byrke, except now her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes are hooded. She looks like she’s having fun.
Is that really me?
Huh.
I chat with the bartender while he pours our drink, and ask if they have any job openings. The large space seems to be nearing capacity as more students flock to the siren song of alcohol and dancing. There are a few faces I recognize from my classes, but they don’t pay me any mind, too absorbed in their own little worlds. It’s strange thing, to be surrounded by so many others and yet feel alone as I observe the life happening around me. Like I’m looking in from the outside, separated by a pane of glass that makes everything gleam.
I continue to scan the crowd, startling when I see the Heirsandtheir worshippers sitting at a booth in the opposite corner. They’re holding court once again—Lyra and Cynthia are fawning over Killian and Luther, the latter silent and scowling like usual, while the former is laughing at whatever the girls just said. Roth is sitting to their right, making the simple worn leather bench look like a throne as Calanthe prattles on across from him. Thane is to his right, head tilted back, with a steady stream of smoke trailing from the vape in his mouth.
My buzz practically evaporates.
God damnit.
I can’t stop staring.
This is the first time I’ve seen them outside of campus, and I can’t help but catalogue every movement, every laugh in this stolen moment, safe from the looming threat of being perceived. Tonight, in this place, in this crowd, I’m nobody.
I’m invisible.
When the bartender finishes our drinks, I leave a generous tip in thanks before making my way back to our booth. By the time I slide in next to Brynne, our food order has been delivered,and my buzz slowly returns with the latest round of shots. I find myself blurting out the question that’s been bothering me for weeks now.
“What is their deal, anyways?”
“Who?”
“TheHeirs,” I drawl, and gesture in their direction. “Don’t they ever take a night off from all that?”
Brynne chuckles while stuffing a mozzarella stick into her mouth. “Never. That’s their entire purpose in life.”
