I'm willing to wait.
CHAPTER 29
Sawyer
"Girl, you look hot," Quinn comments as we primp in front of her bathroom vanity. "Your skull face is so dead on."
"Look who's talking," I chuckle, giving her a once-over.
She nailed the Katherine Pierce look to a T—black leather jacket, tight pants and ankle boots. She even went as far as coloring her long blonde hair with a non-permanent black dye.
It's our school's Halloween Night. We used to do this at Peyton's, but since we're no longer friends, going there is not an option anymore. Instead, the three of us agreed to come over to Quinn's place to get ready.
Last year, I dressed up as Wednesday Addams. Tonight, I decided to settle with a half skull face after scouring Pinterest for inspiration and watching an hour's worth of Youtube tutorials for it. Quinn helped curl my loose waves and pin a red rose to the side of my hair. Then I paired my look with a long black dress that hugs my body and red Valentino heels that Avery gave me on my eighteenth birthday.
Staring at my reflection now, I have to agree with Quinn's assessment. I look really good. Honestly, I feel like I'm looking at a stranger.
I wonder how Parker will react when he sees me. He offered to pick me up so we could go together but I declined and told him I'd just meet him there. I can't wait to see the look on his face.
"Now that it's been established that you both look hot," Brayden—who looks cute in his tennis pro outfit—cuts in and inserts himself between us, "let's head out to the party. You'll see what I've been working on the past few weeks."
As the student council president, Brayden is often involved with the planning of almost every school event. He always makes sure to be on top of the whole thing, being the perfectionist that he is. He says it's his job to make sure that our senior year will end up as the best and most memorable time of our high school lives.
"Wait. Let's take a selfie for the 'Gram first." Quinn grabs her phone from the vanity and motions for us to get into the frame before starting to snap photo after photo.
Several minutes later, we step out into the hall and head downstairs, lightly musing about what kind of costumes and characters we'll see tonight.
"I don't remember you mentioning that you were heading out tonight." Quinn's mom, Jada, is apparently waiting for us at the foyer.
Even though she's not wearing any piece of jewelry, her face free of makeup and her platinum blonde hair swept up in a bun atop her head, she looks like she just stepped out of a lifestyle magazine in her white chiffon blouse and black slacks.
Looking at her always gives me the feeling that I'm staring at an older version of my best friend. But when I told Quinn about it, her face soured, as if I just said something nasty. I've been careful not to mention it again.
Right now, Jada is looking at us with a crease between her brows.
Quinn visibly tenses, the expression on her face becoming hard and unreadable. "I forgot. Sorry." Only she doesn't look the least bit sorry.
Brayden and I exchange a glance. This isn't the first time we've witnessed this kind of interaction between the two of them. And it feels awkward every single time.
"Quinn—"
"I'll be late. Don't wait up." Then she's out the door, leaving me and Brayden alone with Jada who looks completely resigned to her daughter's behavior.
Turning to us, she forces a smile. "Make sure she gets home safe, okay?"
We both nod.
When we finally step out, Quinn is waiting by Brayden's car with an impatient look on her face.
"Thought you already joined her for a drink," she mutters as we file inside.
We don't bother responding to that. Brayden just shoots me a look through his rear-view mirror before peeling out of Quinn's driveway.
The ride to school is filled with tense silence. But the moment we pull up front, Quinn is back to her perky self, as if the run-in with her mom hasn’t affected her mood. I know that if I ask, she'll just give her usual response—she doesn't want to talk about it. So I simply let her be.
We step inside and Halloween decorations scream at us from every corner, a clear proof that Brayden and the committee in-charge went all out.
There's even a photo booth right outside the banquet hall where the party is being held. We pose for a few pictures, having fun with the props before finally heading inside, but not before being greeted at the entrance by a guy dressed as Gandalf. "Welcome to Halloween Night!"
The students of Holy Oaks Prep love dressing up, and the elaborate costumes inside the hall prove that. While there are some who went the convenient route with togas and slutty outfits—as Quinn puts it—the majority obviously scoped out the costume shops.
I'm seeing a lot of Marvel and DC superheroes and other famous fictional characters. But there are also students who showed up in usual Halloween costumes, like vampires and witches and ghosts.
There's a DJ booth up front, blasting Wolves by Selena Gomez and Marshmello as strobe lights flash over the crowd, and in turn, illuminating the giant spiders hanging from thick webs along the walls. They look so realistic they make me shudder.
"This is what I'm talking about!" Quinn hoots, grabbing Brayden's hand and mine, and drags us to the middle of the dancefloor.
I guess we can get drinks later.
We dance to a few songs, the two of them grinding against me every once in a while, making me laugh. And I realize I miss this. Hanging out with my friends and having fun with absolutely no drama, that is. We're not doing it nearly enough these days.
Just as the
