Chapter 53
Ellie's POV
By the time I pushed open the door to Dorm 304, it was 5:30 PM and I'd successfully convinced myself I was overthinking everything. Jackson was just being nice. Helpful. Maybe a little mysterious, but that was basically his brand at this point.
The door wasn't even fully open before Lily launched herself at me.
"Thank GOD," she practically shrieked, grabbing my wrist and hauling me inside. "We were starting to think you'd actually forgotten!"
"I did forget," I admitted, letting myself be pulled into the room where Megan was already in various states of costume preparation. "Completely. Jackson had to stage an intervention."
"Jackson came to find you?" Megan's eyebrows shot up meaningfully. "Interesting."
"Focus!" Lily clapped her hands, redirecting everyone's attention. "Costume time. Ellie, prepare to be amazed."
She yanked open the closet with the flourish of a magician revealing their greatest trick. Hanging inside was a dress that made my breath catch—a gorgeous vintage-style gown in layers of gray and ivory, the fabric deliberately distressed and torn at the edges to create a haunting, ethereal effect. Gauzy material draped like mist, and delicate lace overlays gave it an antique, forgotten quality.
"Behold," Lily announced dramatically, "the Corpse Bride!"
Grace held up a matching veil, gray and tattered, with dried flowers woven through it that looked like they'd been plucked from a century-old grave. Megan presented a makeup kit that would make any special effects artist jealous.
"We're the witch coven," Lily explained, gesturing to their own costumes—flowing black dresses, pointed hats, the works. "And you're the ghostly bride we've summoned from beyond the grave. Perfect narrative cohesion!"
"Plus," Megan added with a grin, "it's absolutely made for your aesthetic. Elegant, mysterious, slightly tragic—very you."
I reached out to touch the fabric, surprised by how perfect it actually was. The dress was beautiful in a melancholy way, like something out of a Gothic romance novel. Then Jackson's words hit me again: Our costumes will match really well.
A ghostly bride. And if he was going as...
"Ellie?" Lily waved a hand in front of my face. "You okay? You zoned out."
"Yeah, just—" I shook off the speculation. "This is amazing. You guys really went all out."
"Obviously," Lily said, already pulling me toward the bathroom. "Now come on, we need to get you dressed and do your makeup. Megan is a wizard with contouring—she's going to make you look properly undead."
An hour later, I barely recognized myself in the mirror.
Megan had transformed my face into something hauntingly beautiful—my skin appeared porcelain-pale with subtle gray undertones, my eyes ringed with soft shadow that made them look simultaneously larger and more sunken. My lips were a muted rose color, like flowers pressed in an old book. The veil sat atop my carefully styled hair, the dried flowers casting delicate shadows across my features.
The dress fit perfectly, flowing around me like fog, the tattered edges giving the impression that I might dissolve into mist at any moment. I looked like I'd stepped out of a Tim Burton film—beautiful and sad and otherworldly.
"Holy shit," I breathed.
"RIGHT?" Lily practically squealed behind me. "You look incredible. Jackson's going to lose his entire mind when he sees you."
"This has nothing to do with Jackson," I protested automatically, but my face was already heating up.
"Sure, sure," Megan said, exchanging knowing looks with the others. "Totally nothing to do with the hot senior who personally hunted you down in the library to make sure you didn't miss the party."
I turned to glare at them, but the effect was probably ruined by the blush I could feel spreading across my cheeks. "You're all ridiculous."
"We're all right," Lily corrected. "But we'll drop it. For now. Because we need to leave in like ten minutes and I still need to fix my hat situation—why won't this thing stay straight?"
The next few minutes dissolved into the comfortable chaos of three girls getting ready together—last-minute makeup touch-ups, wardrobe adjustments, taking approximately seven hundred mirror selfies that we'd probably never post. Normal, regular college stuff that made my chest feel warm.
This was what I'd needed. Friends who cared enough to plan an elaborate costume for me. Who teased me about crushes and staged interventions when I worked too hard. Who made me feel like maybe, just maybe, I belonged somewhere.
The walk to the warehouse took fifteen minutes, and with each step, my nerves ratcheted higher. The entrance was decorated within an inch of its life—giant paper bats hung from the ceiling, orange and purple lights cast everything in an eerie glow, and a fog machine pumped out atmosphere like its life depended on it.
Students milled everywhere in various states of costume creativity. I spotted three different Harley Quinns, a group dressed as the entire Scooby-Doo gang, and someone who'd committed so hard to a Demogorgon costume that they could barely fit through the door.
"There's Ryan!" Lily pointed across the entrance, waving enthusiastically.
I followed her gesture and saw Jackson's roommate dressed as... a remarkably convincing Jack Sparrow, complete with dreadlocked wig and eyeliner. He waved back, then said something to the person beside him who'd been blocked by the crowd.
The crowd shifted.
Jackson stepped into view.
My brain short-circuited.
He wore a long white shirt—more like a historical nightshirt or undershirt—made of thin, semi-transparent linen that had been deliberately aged and distressed. Strategic tears revealed glimpses of his shoulders and chest beneath. The fabric hung loose and flowing, giving him an ethereal quality that was almost unsettling.
His face had the same pale makeup treatment as mine, with dark shadows beneath his eyes that made them seem even more intense. And on his head sat a crown of dead flowers and dried vines, matching the ones in my veil almost exactly.
He looked like a ghost. A beautiful, tragic ghost who'd wandered out of the same graveyard as my bride.
All three of us stopped walking simultaneously.