Page 21 of The Crafting Con

I nod as if this is exactly the information I was looking for. “Shiny.” And then, since I’ve apparently lost all control of my tongue, “So you’re going? To prom?”

The tips of her ears turn pink, and she slips her hands into the back pockets of her jeans with a little shrug that isn’t at all cute, and I am definitely not noticing her every move. “Probably, I guess. I know Stasia wants me to, and my mom is chomping at the bit to take photos of me in an evening gown. We’re supposed to go dress shopping later today, actually. Which seems a little silly seeing as I don’t even have a date, but whatever. It makes her happy.”

My heart kicks into overdrive, my brain fixating on those six words she oh-so-casually slipped in. I don’t even have a date. Fortunately, she continues before I can do something irrevocably horrifying like throwing myself at her feet and offering myself up as tribute.

“What about you? Are you going?”

I blink, brain still spiraling off-kilter. “Am I going to what?”

She lets out a breathy laugh which does nothing to help my focus. “To prom.”

“Oh. Yeah, no. I don’t see that happening.” I mock shudder, my face twisting into a grimace. “Besides, I’ll probably be at the con all day. Jenni Messenger is going to be there with the cast from Magic and Moonshine, and there’s no way I’m missing that panel.” Not to mention, I’ve been working on a replica of her character’s magic staff, one that I’m planning to give her during the panel’s Q&A. Assuming I work up the necessary courage.

Ava stops dead in her tracks, and I have to slide in front of her to keep from blocking the walkway from other shoppers. Her mouth falls open as she gapes up at me. “You’re joking. Jenni Messenger is going to be at OA Con? Jenni freaking Messenger?”

“Not sure that’s her legal name, but yeah. She’s on a Saturday afternoon panel.”

“Oh my God, I love her,” Ava squeals, her entire face lit up as she bounces on the toes of her pink-and-black sneakers. “She does the voices for literally all of my favorite characters.”

Her excitement is infectious, and I find myself grinning. “Jenni is a serious boss, that’s for sure.”

Ava shakes her head in disbelief. “And to think I could be in the same room as her. Breathing the same air. Stupid prom.”

I stuff my hands in my pockets, gaze flicking off to the side. “You could always skip it. Despite what others would have you believe, attending prom isn’t required for graduation.”

“Ugh, don’t tempt me. My mom would die if I blew off prom for an anime convention.” She starts walking again, but there’s a wistfulness in her eyes that makes me want to draw her off to the side and wrap my arms around her.

“It’d be fun, though, wouldn’t it?” she says, that same yearning edging her voice. “Ditching prom and seeing Jenni Messenger together.”

My throat tightens at the visual. “Going broke in the vendor hall.”

“Loading up on pizza and Pocky afterward,” she adds, her voice dropping almost to a whisper. “And binge-watching Yona of the Dawn.”

I swallow and look away. The picture she’s painting too bright for my shadow-heavy heart to bear. I nod toward the upcoming aisle. “Foam’s down here.” I turn without another word, leaving the bitter ache of longing for something I can’t have behind.

I’m over that.

I stop in front of the shelves packed with multi-colored foam, eyes staring blankly while Ava stands silently beside me. Her breath soft and fast. Lip pinned in her teeth. That faintly sweet orange and honey scent drifts enticingly from her loose, blonde waves, begging me to lean closer. My hands flex, and I fill them with foam sheets before they do something crazy, like tangle in her hair and tip back her chin and…

Yeah.

I am so clearly over it all.

CHAPTER 9

AVA

Nine days until OA Con

Something is seriously wrong with me. All I’ve been able to think about this week is Declan. Ever since he dropped me off from our craft store run, it’s like every little thing I see reminds me of him.

The Chinese food stall at the mall on Sunday? Declan always got their General Tso’s chicken.

Reading One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest in English class on Tuesday? Declan would have nailed the part of Randle McMurphy.

Folding clothes in my room on Wednesday? Declan would love this shirt. Green was always his favorite color.

And now, standing beside the bleachers with my purple and gold pom-poms (pep club issued, not cheerleading—I am not that coordinated) while a crowd of my peers and their families cheer on the boys’ lacrosse team? I can’t even follow the game, because my gaze keeps straying off to the side where the marching band hovers, waiting to take the field for their halftime show. One Declan Greene included.