Faith.
I close my laptop quick, hoping Beau didn’t notice that I’d been studying the picture Sinjin snapped of us in Capitola. Beau places an oversized garment bag on my bed and unzips it to reveal a long gown. “You are going to look fabulous.”
“You didn’t!” I bite my lip and draw my finger along the nap of the buttery-toned ivory silk. The tiny white lights I’ve wound around my headboard shine on the fabric, enriching the sheen and making the color so warm it’s vibrant.
He smiles. “I did. You asked me for costume help. I couldn’t resist. It’s too damn perfect for you two.” Beau hangs the dress in the doorway to my bathroom. “Lady Catherine and Sinjin.”
“I’m going to have to be your slave for life.”
“Not a slave, but I do need your help with my next production.”
“Anything.” I continue to pet the fabric. “Just ask.”
“Nothing much, we need someone to perform an interpretive dance during intermission.”
“What? You’re kidding.”
“I am.” He snickers. “No performance required. I need your help while I run through my lines.”
“Sounds fun.”
“No, it’s tedious, but I’d appreciate your time.”
“You’ve got it.”
We are at Dad’s. I couldn’t do this in front of Charlene. I’m nervous about this gown, but excited, too. It’s gorgeous and potentially perfect for me because it’s full skirted. “Is this dress a reproduction from the Regency period?”
“It is.”
I touch the neckline. Not too revealing. This might work. “Where’s his costume?”
“The rental place still has it out for cleaning. We’ll pick it up later this afternoon.” He reaches into the bag once more. “There’s a corset and a shift to wear underneath. Shift goes on first, corset over that. Once you get everything on, I’ll help you lace them. This place specializes in authentic costumes. No zipper.”
Beau steps out of my room but calls out from the hallway, “Open up when you’re ready for my help.”
I pull off my hoodie, wiggle into the shift and lose my joggers. So far, so good. I grab the corset and maneuver my breasts into the cups while wearing my bra. No small feat. I call out to Beau, “I’ve got the shift on. Come in.”
Beau steps inside. “Turn around. Let’s get this fastened to see how it looks.” He laces the corset first, then drops the dress over my head. I have no idea if this ensemble will fit once he pulls the laces, but he took the time to do this for me, so I’m going to go for it.
I smile at him over my shoulder. “Now I know what Elizabeth Bennet went through to get dressed each morning.”
He nods as he arranges the ties into a bow. “We’ll put your hair up on Sunday. This dress isn’t sophisticated enough for your ponytail.”
“Wise guy.”
His lips twitch, and he steps back. “I love your hair. I wish you’d wear it down once in a while, or in this case, up.” He motions with his index finger.
I stare down at the dress and admire its beauty. While the round neckline shows way more skin than normal for me, my cleavage isn’t showing. “What do you think?”
I study his face to gauge his reaction.
“It’s perfect. I have a friend I’ll ask to do your hair Sunday. Brad takes the updo to the next level. He’s also a wizard at makeup.” He meets my gaze. “I’m thinking subtle because you don’t ever wear any.”
Why bother? “I’m not makeover material.”
“No.” He stabs his index finger toward me. “You’re fucking perfect. As. Is.”
He sounds annoyed, so I keep my mouth shut and nod my head. We never argue. I focus on the picture of Kirsty and me at the Old State House, taken two years ago at the reading of the Declaration of Independence on the Fourth of July. I had draped a lock of Kirsty’s hair across my upper lip like a gleaming blond mustache. See. I didn’t hide my whole face.
The silence drives me nuts. I keep my voice neutral. “I appreciate all you’ve done.”
“Faith, look at me.”
I meet his gaze. He breathes in deeply through his nose then releases the breath. “I want you to do me a favor.”
The corset cuts off my air supply. It wrenches tighter and tighter while I wait for him to share his thoughts with me. Because once they’re out there, I’ll have to deal with them. “Okay.”
He reaches out to touch my shoulder. “I want you to find three things you like about your appearance.”
There’s no air in the room. “Why?”
“Let me ask you this. Are we friends?”
Shit. “Yes.”
“As my friend, I want you to think of yourself as some random stranger. Take a good look, because this person has asked you for an honest opinion on her appearance. You’re forced to pick three things to compliment her on. Three. Will you do that for me?”
My stomach twists, and my heart burns with the acid this conversation birthed like an alien hovering in the space between us. But this is Beau, who asks so little of me. “Only because I promised to be your slave.”
“Fine.” He nods his head as though he’s come to a decision. “May I ask you something?”
I’m wary. “Of course.”
He sits on my bed. “Are you familiar with hermit crabs and their propensity to change shells?”
“Yes.”
“Growing up I had a tank of five crabs. You’re supposed to keep three shells per crab in the tank. Fifteen shells. One of the females changed her shell all the time. Most crabs change after they molt. The males did it without fail. I had another female that would not change shells even after her molt.”
I don’t want to hear this. “Okay.”
“I tried tempting her with different shells. She always stuck to her original, even when the fit became too tight.”
I go for my default. Humor. Because the conversation is as light as wet cement. “Did she have to lie on the tank sand and wriggle into her shell feet first? I hate that.”
His nostrils flare. “I wonder if your shell still fits you.”
My face grows hot. The corset won’t let me breathe, and his words wind around my rib cage to constrict my damn lungs. “Stretch fabric is so forgiving.”
“Hilarious. But I have one last thing to say.”
“Go for it.” I turn away from him. My ribs hurt. I don’t want to cry.
He grabs my hand and turns my chin to face him with his other. “You were rendered into this mold of self-distortion. By your classmates. Your mother. You continue to give them power over you each time you doubt yourself. As your friend, I’m asking you to knock it off.”
Beau drops me off at my dorm. It’s no longer awkward, but our earlier conversation still bothers me.
I open the door to my room and find Charlene crying on her bed.
Fuck it all. I stop on the threshold, at a loss. Do I stay and try to help or grab my laptop and head for the library? My last attempt ended with me knocked on my ass and her roaring about it. She wipes her face with her sleeve and says, “I don’t care which side you stand on, but shut the door.”
Common decency demands I ask one more time. “Are you okay?”
She sobs, “No, I’m not.”
I shut the door and prop myself against the wall facing her bed. This will be as close as I get to the baby piranha. “Want to talk about it?”
“You just want to gossip about me.”
Whatever. I’m done. “Your assumption is utter bullshit. And if you spent an hour with me you’d know this.” I’ll gather my laptop after all, hang out at the library, and study until closing. Damn it.
Charlene sits up. “If you must know, I went to a party and broke my vow.”
I set my backpack at my feet and go sit on my bed. “Your vow?”
She presses her fist against her mouth and shakes her head. I hope she doesn’t expect me to drag it out of her. The crying rule only works with me when it’s not staged.
She moves her fist. “The VOW.” Said in all caps. “My virginity vow.”
Holy shit! “You let someone punch your V-card?” The words are out of my mouth before I filter them.
She wails, “I wasn’t even drunk.”
“Who was it?” Needless to say, I am agog.
“A football player.”
My heart rate plummets. My fists ball up. “Really, which one?”
“The unforgettable one.”
I’ll kill Sinjin.
“Eric McBride.”
It takes a beat for the red haze to clear my brain before I realize who she’s talking about. “You had sex with Everest?”
She nods. “A one-night stand.” She wails and falls back on the bed with impressive and dramatic flair.
I hate the necessity of my next question. “Did he force you?” Easier to think of him as Eric—and not Everest—while asking this potential life-altering question.
“No.”
I let out the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.
She glances up at me. Her cheeks bloom with color. “If anything, I pushed for it to happen. He was angry I didn’t tell him I’d never, you know…before we—consummated our relationship.”
What does this say about me? Instead of asking all the questions that fight for supremacy in my jammed brain over her revelation, my brain can’t move beyond the fact Charlene and Everest had sex. Dammit. My roommate who hasn’t shown me an ounce of kindness got busy with someone I consider a friend. I need to stop and listen.
“If you initiated the…outcome, why the tears? Are you feeling remorse? Does it hurt? Do you need aspirin?”
“I’m sore, but that’s not it. I don’t do emotion. Ever.”
Her admission about lacking emotion explains so much. “There’s always a first.”
She shoots me a dirty look. “Very funny, Faith.”
I draw a blank until it hits me. First time. Virgin. Oh. “Look. I didn’t mean it that way. Sure, I’m sarcastic, but I don’t kick people when they’re down. I meant your emotions are rampant because you invalidated your virginity vow.”
She wipes her face on her sleeve. I take the opportunity to move from my bed to hers. I set myself on the edge. Prepared to move fast, if necessary. “Why the change of heart?”
She shakes her head. “It all started with a sex tape.”
WTF? I am agog. Maybe two gogs. Scratch that—I’m a freaking flash mob of gogs! Or something like that. “What sex video?”
“Theo Celles. And that harlot Tiana West. The publicity whore released it last night to TV paparazzi. I saw the whole thing. It’s him. Doing it. With her. And he’s not married!”
And people say Patriots fans are bonkers. I almost burst out laughing at her use of the word harlot. It’s so archaic.
“Let me get this straight. You had payback sex with Everest because someone released a Theo Celles sex tape?”
“When you put it that way, it sounds off. I was upset and questioned every value he’s ever taught me. I followed destiny to a party and Eric was there.”
“You believe it was your destiny to go to this party?”
She shakes her head. A small smile flashes across her mouth. “Destiny Townsend from the first floor. Here in our dorm.”
“Oh.” A person, not fate.
“I followed her and her friends to a party on Greek Street. Once I saw him, I knew he had to be the one. Not Declan, my back-home boyfriend.”
She lies back, and I get the hint she wants me off her bed. I can’t get over the chain of events. “Will you tell Declan?”
“I shouldn’t have told you. You don’t get it. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt me,” she says and turns to face the wall.
I leave our room and head toward the bathroom. Once inside, I send the following text to Everest:
What’s a four-letter word that ends in k and means the same as intercourse?
Him: Talk Me: Mmhmm. I’ll have an earful for you Sunday…
I happen to glance in the mirror. I turn away. Me and mirrors? We’re still fighting.
I dress for the party at Dad’s. He’s been working so hard. I rarely see him on weekends. I’m alone in the condo. Beau just left to take Sinjin his costume. Turns out the buildings are next to each other. Small world. Brad swept my hair up in a complicated twist, and artfully applied my makeup, or so I’m told. Brad, Beau’s expert at hair and makeup, claimed I’m stunning. Brad speaks in superlatives with exclamation points, so his praise, while sweet, remains suspect.
At any rate, I didn’t check for myself. No need. This way I’ll fool myself into the belief I look passably pretty tonight. Sinjin will pick me up from here like a real date. Dad’s stuck at work. They won’t meet.
If Sinjin stops coming around, I will be devastated. Flattened by the feelings I already have for him. Why bring Dad into the equation? I love Dad. I tell him everything. Except anything to do with boys, feelings, lust, or menstrual cramps. He’d make everything awkward by turning an introduction into the Italian Inquisition.
I take a deep breath, release it and tell myself to enjoy the moment.
The doorbell rings. I force a smile on my face and head to the door. Sinjin is wearing a satin blue fitted military-style jacket with a red collar and placket adorned in shiny gold buttons. His shirt is white, and the neckpiece ties in an intricate knot. His pants are fawn colored and tuck into his knee-high black boots.
“Well, Sinjin, you look quite dashing.” My grin becomes real as I check out his costume. “If you weren’t already so confident about your appearance, I might even add swoon-worthy.”
He stares right back at me, and I can’t quite determine his thoughts by his expression. He stands still, tilts his head. “Me? Girl, you look amazing. I wish I was taking you someplace worthy of your dress, instead of the dump Everest calls home.”
“Do you think we’ll win?”
He makes a circular motion with his index finger. “Hmm. I need the full effect. Turn around slowly for me.”
He’s being such a good sport about wearing a costume that might make his teammates tease him forever that I indulge him by turning in a circle for him. His eyes crinkle. “My costume should have a sword. I’ll need one to fight off the peasants, Lady Catherine.”
Something warm unfurls in a forgotten corner of my heart. “After you, Sinjin.”
We drive to a home off Bird Avenue and in the vicinity of campus. Due to the lack of available street parking we walk back two blocks to the party. Sinjin puts his arm around my waist, and I hold my breath to ward off the hiccups. His nearness sends my pulse skyrocketing.
“My teammates are good guys for the most part, but I don’t know everyone on the invite list. Just stay close. Okay?”
Sweet. “Sure, no problem.”
He stops and turns to me to make eye contact. “We can leave whenever. Say the word.”
Considerate. Sometimes he blows my mind. “Understood.”
They’ve got vintage Eminem blaring “Lose Yourself,” a rap about blowing an opportunity that comes along once in a lifetime. The words strike a chord deep inside me. I need to pay attention; it could be a sign. Sometimes the universe tries to show you the way. You just need to pay attention. “Won’t the neighbors call the cops?”
“Nope, they’re invited. This street is loaded with rentals filled with college students.”
We turn into a driveway. People surround a keg just inside the garage. Everyone wears some kind of costume, which is strange to me. “Back home, few people wear costumes to Halloween parties. I’m surprised this many dress up.”
“Everest won’t let anyone in unless they’re wearing a costume. It’s basically the invite. That way he limits the number of party crashers.”
Someone dressed as Freddy Krueger mans the keg pump and shouts out, “Yo. CW.”
Sinjin steers us toward the small crowd at the keg. Most of those who surround the keg talk and laugh in their groups, but don’t pay attention to us.
Freddy looks me up, then down. Nods his head. Smiles. “CW, mmhmm. She bad.”
He studies Sinjin’s costume. “The fuck you wearing, bruh?”
Sinjin smiles at the boy with freckles. His long, reddish dreads are tucked up haphazardly into his costume fedora hat. His eyelashes are so pale they appear colorless. “Faith, this is PC.”
PC bobs his head. “Meecha. What all ya dress like?”
“They’re period costumes,” Sinjin says.
PC looks perplexed as he looks at our clothing. “Huh?”
Sinjin shakes his head minutely. “Like Pirates of the Caribbean without the pirates.”
“Too bad. Pirates are badass.”
“True.” Sinjin nods.
He looks at me, inclines his head at the keg, and I nod back. He hands me a red SOLO cup. While we make our way through the garage and into the house, Sinjin calls out to a few people.
I take a sip of beer.
He informs me, “I’ll probably stick to one beer. If not, we’ll use Rides for the trip back.”
I’m glad he’s not anti-ride-share. I’m curious about attitudes toward drinking and driving on this coast.
He explains, “One of my aunts died in high school driving home drunk from a party when she was seventeen. I have a pact with my mom and my only living aunt to use Rides or call a taxi. I don’t do drugs, either.”
Before I answer, a shirtless guy wearing a cheerleader’s skirt and a wolf’s mask lifts the skirt to grab his exposed junk, gives his peen a yank, and shouts out, “Bring that booty my way. Imma give you a facial.”
Sinjin stops. “Faith, hold my beer, please.”
He strides over to wolf cheer boy. He slaps the guy’s hand down away from his junk and reaches up to tweak his nipple, hard enough for me to see the flesh twist, which causes him to let out a yelp. “Fuck, dude. Why you got to do that? Fucking hurts.”
“You’re leaving this party right now. Either on your own, or I’ll lead you out by your cock. But if I take hold, it won’t ever work the same way again. I’ll give you ten seconds to go before I hurt you bad.”
Sinjin never raises his voice, but his threat is potent. He pulls off the mask with his free hand and tosses it to the floor. A drool-worthy guy wearing a mall cop costume steps over, gestures with his billy club. “Savage titty twister. Problem?”
Sinjin does a double take and his lips twitch. “There will be if this asshole stays. I want him gone, TJ.”
TJ points with his baton. “You heard the man, you’d better move or I’ll bend you over and ram this club as far as the grip, give you a spin, and play me some real-life foosball.”
I’ve never seen eye color quite like TJ’s. The hazel color looks gold, reminding me of a lion—an apex predator you don’t want to piss off.
“You can’t throw me out,” whines wolf-boy.
TJ says, “If you stay, Everest will be annoyed, and so will I.”
The blood drains from wolf-boy’s face. “I’ll leave. Don’t involve the Mountain.”
Sinjin walks over to me, leans in, and kisses my forehead. “I’m sorry about that. Let’s find Everest.”
All I think about is the effectiveness of one hard twist applied to a sensitive area. Ouch. It’s louder in the house. Music and voices raise the decibel level to screech. We pass a girl wearing a red, white and blue dress with the words First Class written across her breasts and Fragile strategically positioned on the lower half. She’s wearing a veil. It takes me a beat, but I realize she’s meant to be a mail order bride. Her pale face shows sweat beading along her upper lip. The booze she already drank will soon have her bowing to the nearest toilet. She retches, and I glance over my shoulder to see a guy dressed in a toga costume, grab a paper grocery bag and push her face in deep enough to catch any splatter. “Everest will kill me if you throw up on anything.”
We wind our way through a litter of sexy kittens and maneuver through a host of naughty angels. I notice quite a few glares aimed my way by several of my whiskered and winged sisters.
A boy wearing green swim trunks and a red feather boa calls us over. Sinjin slaps hands with the boy in a parody of a handshake. Sinjin lifts one trailing end of the boa, and asks, “Does this belong to Kelly?” His gaze travels the room. “Where is she?”
The guy has a body made for a Calvin Klein underwear ad. Dark hair and eyes courtesy of his Asian ancestry. “Getting me a shot of Jack to go with my beer. And this is?” He inclines his head toward me.
I smile. “Faith Lacerna.”
His gaze is slightly unfocused, halfway to being drunk, still at the mellow stage. His smile is wide. “I’m Dex. I live here.”
A pretty brunette with a blue streak through her hair sidles up to Dex. She hands him a shot glass filled with amber liquid. She’s wearing a saloon girl costume. Her dress reveals a curvaceous body. Her light skin is luminescent, and her brown eyes sparkle. “CW, you are stirring up some major shit with the Bitch Squad.” She turns toward me. “Hi, I’m Kelly. And you are?”
We go through introductions. Dex tosses back his shot. He and Sinjin talk about some player the coaching staff suspects uses performance-enhancing supplements.
Kelly says, “Love this dress. Who did your hair?”
I tell her about Brad. She glances over my shoulder, shakes her head. Mumbles under her breath, “Meow.” She claws the air with her fingers. “The Bitch Squad’s mugging you.”
I glance over my shoulder. Several kittens and enough angels to fill a choir are staring at Kelly and me, their expressions dialed to angry.
I turn back to Kelly. “The Bitch Squad?”
“Campus triple B’s. Beautiful, bold, and bitchy. They star in our own Gladiator soap opera. This squad thrives on drama and are the worst football groupies you’ll ever see.”
I let my gaze roam across the room in their direction, avoiding direct eye contact with any of the girls. Kelly’s right. Active dislike and malicious intent color their expressions. I nod. “I noticed them when we walked in. How soon before they launch their first attack?”
Kelly’s eyes twinkle with her quick laugh. “Soon. I’m glad you’re dialed in.”
I smile. “Same drama, different coast. It will be interesting to see how the Left Coast handles it.”
She nods. “Mmhmm. So, let’s make sure they don’t get a chance to do that.” She inclines her head. “Incoming.”
Two angels and a kitten join us while the rest of the squad hangs back. Observation mode. The angels flank Sinjin on either side, and the kitten stands between with her back to the guys, effectively blocking Kelly and me from the pod they form. The kitten turns to us. “Hi, Kelly. Who is this?”
“Karina, this is my friend, Faith.”
“Nice to meet you, Karina.”
Karina smiles her little kitten smile at me. I smile back, showing lots of teeth and just as much insincerity. I am a pro dealing with catty girls. Maybe not this exact scenario, but I am familiar with the species.
Kelly grabs Dex’s hand and pulls him next to her, forcing Karina to move closer to me. “Sweetie, say hi to Karina.”
Dex smiles at Kelly. “Sure, babe. Who’s that?”
Kelly rolls her eyes, grabs his chin and moves his face toward Karina. “You remember Karina.”
Dex takes a playful bite of the finger next to his mouth and mumbles, “Yes, I do.”
Kelly shakes her head. “You will be drinking water next. I have plans for you later that don’t involve me holding your head over a toilet.” She calls out. “CW, get your fine ass over here this minute.”
Sinjin moves beside Dex. Karina slides next to Sinjin. She rubs his arm. “I saw your TD last week. You were amazing. Too bad you didn’t get much playing time yesterday. I love watching you run.”
Two angels join us. One is blonde, the other a redhead. The blonde says, “Are we talking about Caleb’s touchdown? Isn’t he the best?”
The redhead adds, “He’s so talented.”
He makes eye contact with me but he tells the girl, “Thanks. Faith and I need to find Everest.”
Kelly leans toward me. “We’ll talk later.”
“I’d like that.”
I follow Sinjin to another room. This one has a beer-pong table centered in the space. Lawn chairs form a line along one wall. Everyone in the room gathers around the table and two teams play against each other to bounce balls into plastic cups filled with beer. It’s loud due to equal amounts of heckling and cheering as balls make it in or not.
We slip deeper into the room away from the beer pong table, and the noise level drops. Sinjin says, “This side might be our best spot to have a conversation.”
I’m not sure I’ll fit in those smallish chairs wearing this dress. I don’t want to call attention to myself by struggling to get the full skirts to cooperate without flashing a whole lot of skin.
Sinjin eyes my costume and heads for the lone ottoman in the corner. It’s a bit disturbing how well he reads my thoughts.
“Have a seat.”
He holds my beer while I adjust my skirts. Another reason to wear sweats: no fuss.
I kill the thought because—for tonight—I’m going to bask in the memory of the way Sinjin ogled at me when I opened the door back at Dad’s place.
For the first time in my life I feel desirable. I need to hold that thought.
I’m about to reach for my beer when Sinjin shakes his head and steps away from me. I fall back against what feels like a brick wall of flesh as the ottoman I’m sitting on gets raised high in the air. I draw in air to scream my head off, when Everest presses his cheek against mine.
“Lola, you’re here.”
I swallow the scream and manage to say, “I am.”
“You look like a princess.” His chin rests on my shoulder.
I’m too afraid of being dropped to move. “Are you working your way up the furniture chain?”
He sets me down. “We’ll try that sofa next.”
Everest offers me his hand. I stand and glance at his costume. He’s dressed as Hercules. Perfect.
“If we didn’t rock the sibling vibe, I’d bury CW under one of the stadium’s goalposts like a pagan offering.”
“Ha! Pagan offering. I’ll have to remember that one.” I lean in, lower my voice and say, “We need to talk about your choice in bed partner.”
“Which one?” He grimaces. “Wait, before you answer, I want privacy.”
He turns to Sinjin. “Do me a favor, grab me a beer. I need to talk to Lola.”
Caleb divides his attention between us. “Fine. Be right back.”
I tell Everest. “I know what to buy you for Christmas. I’m getting you one of those Now Serving signs for your bedroom like they have at the bakery.”
“Ha. I’ll have to remember that one,” he says, mimicking me. “Who are we talking about?”
“Charlene. Ring any bells?”
His face loses all expression. “I don’t kiss and tell. I take it you two are friends?”
Interesting reaction. “No, that would be an impossibility. She’s my roommate.”
“Look, Lola.” He stops. Takes a breath. “This is awkward.” He shakes his head. “I didn’t know she was a virgin or I would have steered clear. Is she okay?”
He’s so uncomfortable. And now I am for bringing it up. He’s a big boy, fully capable of making decisions about whether he wants to socialize with someone who shakes out put-downs like breath mints. “She’s fine. Don’t worry. No harm. No foul.”
“Will you promise to tell me if that changes?”
“Wait. What? Do you want to stay involved?”
“Undetermined, but I get the impression Charlene doesn’t have anyone she can rely on. Maybe she just needs someone she can talk to, like you.”
Shit. My corset suddenly feels like someone’s behind me pulling the strings, compressing my lungs. I don’t want to say yes. Helping Charlene become human might require a pact with a rep from the underworld.
But my mouth opens of its own accord and says, “Consider it done.”
“Thanks, Lola.” He leans in and kisses my forehead.
I need a moment alone to scream into a towel or find the place where I lost my frigging mind. “Where’s the bathroom?”
Sinjin returns with a fresh beer in hand. Everest grabs the beer. “Take Lola to my bathroom. Then bring her back to me.”
“Everest, you do know she came with me, right?”
“I don’t care.” Everest smiles wide. “I want Lola to enjoy herself.”
“Unbelievable. How did you manage to wrap the mountain around your finger?” Sinjin asks.
“I have no idea.” I wonder about that as we step into Everest’s master bedroom.
“You’ll find the bathroom through that door. Do you need help?”
“Gallant, Prince Charming. But I’ve managed to do this on my own before I hit my second birthday.”
He glances away from me. His face loses all expression. “I meant with your dress. Just in case you had to undo the ties in the back.”
“Oh. Sorry. Knee-jerk. I can manage.”
I step inside and flip the lock. I’m still sulking over my promise. And now I said something bitchy to Sinjin when he didn’t deserve it. I need to scream or find a way to time travel back in time ten minutes and tell Everest there’s no way I have the patience to be Charlene’s friend. And to not make that Prince Charming crack to Sinjin.
All the towels are damp. Damn it. I’m not screaming into someone else’s wet towel, even if it belongs to Everest.
I glance at the mirror that hangs over the sink then turn my back on my image and drum my fingers along the counter. I spin around and stare at my reflection and try to reconcile the girl in the mirror with the mental image of myself. My hair looks amazing, ditto on the makeup, and have admit to myself that today, maybe I don’t resemble a troll.
Maybe today I need to let go of my fear and trust Sinjin.