How long was I in the Fate’s tent?It felt like barely five minutes.Maybe my parents’ guests are early.Or extremely prompt.
“What am I supposed to do, exactly?”I ask when my mother finally stops by the entrance to give me a once-over, hopelessly smoothing the strands of hair floating around my head.
“You’re the guest of honor.Welcome them as they enter.Thank them for coming.Direct them to hang up jackets in the back of the barn or, if they’re from your school, to find their way downstairs.I’ll stand with you.”
“Didn’t you hire a planner to do this?”
My mother stops abruptly from adjusting my wings, shocked by my forwardness.I’m actually surprised I said that out loud myself.My mood needs more taming than my hair.
“I won’t keep you long,” she assures me.“You can join your friends after the initial wave finishes arriving.”
“Are Collin or Jonathan here?”I ask eagerly.
“Collin’s here.Jonathan wasn’t with him.”
I deflate, scanning the room for Collin or any of the girls.But they won’t be upstairs.I wouldn’t be either if I didn’t have to be.
I stand next to my mother for a mind-numbing length of time, thanking people I don’t know for coming to my party.My father’s working the crowd, shaking hands, clinking glasses.Campaigning.I bet they told their guests that, in lieu of a birthday gift, it’s my wish that everyone contribute to his campaign.
I’m bitter.It doesn’t feel good.I’ll soon be thefallenangel if I don’t shake off the disgruntled attitude that’s clinging to me tighter than Danika’s vinyl.Although you’d never know by looking at the plastic smile frozen on my face.I’ve had years of practice.
“I’m here to rescue you,” a nearly imperceptible male voice whispers in my ear.I spin to find Collin.I throw myself at him, wrapping my arms around him.My desperation forcing him to take a step back.“Whoa.I didn’t realize it was that bad.”
“So bad,” I mutter into his bare chest.I jump back.“Why are you half naked?”He’s wearing a pair of tight black leather pants with a spiked demon tail attached to the back.And his torso and face are shimmery red.I inspect my white gown.Thankfully, the body paint didn’t transfer.He smiles, revealing realistic fangs.
Collin’s not quite as tall or as broad as Jonathan.But I don’t remember him being so defined.He’s always been ropy and strong, but all of a sudden… he has abs?When did that happen?
“Thought it’d be hot in hell.”He winks, pulling me out of ogling him.“C’mon.Let me corrupt you.”He takes my hand.We weave through the sophisticated white outfits of chiffon and feathers, leaving my mother talking to guests at the door, oblivious to my absence.
The pounding bass from the lower level welcomes us as we descend the stairs.I couldn’t hear it upstairs, which is impressive because it’s all I canfeeldown here.The red light pulses in time with the beat.No one’s on the dance floor.It’s still way too early.The dozen or so people who’ve arrived so far are concealed within the shadows of the booths.The girls sit at the corner lounge that has a glitteryReserved for the Goddess of the Underworldsign in the center of the long black table.A dismantled chandelier glows on the floor beneath the table, giving off a haunted vibe.
A pair of glowing red eyes overlooks the seating from within the dark corner.More details reveal themselves with every turn of my head, like the small demons mounted to the walls, positioned like they’re scurrying.The natural stone foundation has steepled cutouts attached to it that look like broken, barred windows with glowing red eyes and demon-head holograms staring back.It’s freaky and perfect.My mother knows me, after all.
“There she is!”Danika exclaims.“Come around the back.Your throne awaits.”She indicates the large, ornate black chair with red velvet upholstery that truly resembles a throne, set at the head of the table.The back is curved like an hourglass to allow room for my wings.
I plop down without grace and exhale.A server sets a glass of something red and bubbly in front of me in a large, clear goblet with a black-jeweled stem.I take a tentative sip.It has a hint of berry and something else.It’s probably an energy drink.More servants from hell circle our table, offering food and drinks.
“Have you heard from Jonathan?”I ask Collin, who lounges on the wingback chair, while Danika sits on a similar one to my left.The girls are languidly lounging together on a chaise in a nook.Our private seating area is bigger than any of the others, set back in the shadows, with a perfect view of the room and dance floor.My mother convinced herself I have more friends than I do.
“Not yet,” Collin answers with an apologetic grimace.“He’ll be here.”
“What’s he dressing as?”
Collin responds with a shrug.“He had a couple ideas the last time we spoke.But I haven’t seen him much this week.”
“Neither have I,” I grumble into the goblet as I take another sip.
Darren, Sean and Oren find us when a huge surge of my classmates arrive.Of course everyone coordinated when to get here.They probably followed each other.It happens every year.I can’t say I’m excited to see Oren.But Danika forgave him, blaming his line crossing on a misunderstanding with Livvy—who has no problem sitting at our table.And because she’s close with Oren and the guys, no one stops her.But it wasn’t Livvy who left a circle of bruises on Danika’s wrists, which she hid beneath her sleeves until they faded.
Danika leaps up and into Oren’s zombie football player arms.His hands slide along the slick vinyl as if it’s flesh.I look away before his groping wanders too far down her back.
“Kinda messed up that your dad’s using your birthday as a write-off for his campaign.”Livvy slithers into Danika’s chair beside me.
I ignore her.I may have had similar thoughts, but that’s bold of her to say them out loud.
“You’ve never met my parents, have you?Odd, don’t ya think?”
My chest tightens the more she berates me with questions.I become fixated on the black goblet clutched between my hands.
