“How does it look?” He holds out his arms. Beneath the scarf he wears a ratty button-down shirt and a pair of pants that have been striped vertically, dark blue and green, with fabric paint. Strictly speaking, he’s not tall or narrow enough to be Dallas, but damn, he makes it look good.
“Wow.”
He spins for me, and the scarf even moves like it should, the ends swishing at his ankles. “Where did you get that?”
“My sister crocheted it for me.”
“Kind of sad you have to wear shoes, though.”
“Yeah, had to ditch Dallas’s bare-feet-as-pacifism metaphor in favor of foot safety.”
“You look awesome.”
“Welook awesome.”
I strap the saber around my waist before we enter Murphy’s.
I think if I had to pick a party to come to, it would be this one. The walls are lined with books, and short bookcases separate different sections of the room. A refreshments table is set up beside the checkout counter. “Monster Mash” plays over the store speakers. A flock of Hogwarts students in black robes and house scarves take up most of the middle of the room. A couple offaeries, a vampire, and a witch chill against the back wall. Fixing the pumpkin decorations around the cash register is a girl dressed as a sushi roll.
“I would kill for sushi right now,” I say.
Wallace pulls out his phone. I get a text.
Oh, god, me too. We should get some after this.
Leaving a party for sushi? Yes, please.
Wallace leads me to a dark corner where probably the second-largest group of people has congregated. I almost trip over my feet. They’re all dressed inMonstrous Seacosplay. Some have Amity’s white hair, or Damien’s silverware necklace. Some have the white lines of Nocturnian constellation tattoos drawn on their faces or arms. A large portion of them wear the high collars and red/gold/black color scheme of the Rishtians.
When they see us, several cries of “Dallas!” and “Kite!” welcome us. Wallace smiles, his ears turning pink, and reaches back for my hand to pull me through the crowd. I let him take it. His palm is rougher than I expected from a writer, but warm. We hold on to each other tentatively, and when we reach the table at the heart of the group, Wallace lets my hand slip out of his.
Seated at the small table is a young woman with a toddler in her lap, and a boy our age, smiling at the screen of a laptop. The woman is dressed up with the wild brown hair—wig—and layered desert clothing of Imi, another of the Angels; and the toddler, a little girl, is dressed in a tiny outfit to make her looklike Imi’s daughter. The boy wears an Under Armour shirt with a high collar—no doubt supposed to be the precise, temperature-regulating thermatrol suits the Rishtians wear—and a jacket made to replicate the one worn by Rishtian aeronauts. Food from the refreshments table litters the space between them.
The boy and the woman glance up at the same time and say, “Wallace!”
The boy turns the laptop toward us, where two more girls sit in one video chatroom.
Wallace starts texting again. Another message pops up on my phone; this time a group message with four numbers I don’t recognize.
Hi, guys, Wallace writes.I brought a friend. He steps to the side so I can’t hide behind him.This is Eliza. Eliza, this is my friend Cole and his cousin Megan. He motions to the boy and the young woman.And Leece and Chandra. The girls on the computer. They each say various versions of hello, giving me enough time to swallow past the knot in my throat and say it back.
“Wallace said you’re on the forums,” says Cole. I’m glad he dressed like a Rishtian; he has the sharp, shrewd look many of them wear.
“Um. Yeah. I just don’t talk much.” Only forDog Days, which I am currently missing. I left a message on my LadyConstellation page saying I was sick and wouldn’t be able to watch, so hopefully no one gets upset. “Are all of you?”
My phone pings.
Oh, right. I forgot to tell you. They’re the other Angels. Sorry—I guess it wouldn’t be obvious that we’re friends in real life too.
I look around at them. These are the Angels on my forums? The next rung down on the popularity ladder from me? And all in one place?
My head feels light. One hand goes for my phone and the other searches at my side for something to hold on to, but there’s only open air.
Wallace goes on.Cole is Fire Served Cold, Megan is Quake, Leece is Tree Chimes, and Chandra is Dark Switch.
It doesn’t mean much until I put the formatting with the names. I see them all the time in different parts of the forums:
Fire_Served_Cold, rainmaker’s friend, who hangs around the live chats.
