“Pretty girls rejecting you all the time?”
“Being the one doing the rejecting isn't fun either, and I'm not even one the pretty girls. And it's not like the guys you ever want to pay attention to you ever do.”
“All right, answer me this, then.” He finds a comb. How did he even know I was looking for one, hey. “Have you told this guy you don't like him?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because he hasn't actively asked me out. I'm supposed to just tell him unprompted that I don't like him? That's just mean.”
“But he thinks there's some possibility?”
“He's always doing nice stuff for me, I guess. Turning in my work so I can, uh. Do things other than be in class.”
“Of course.”
“So what am I supposed to say, stop doing nice things for me? Just because I can tell he's doing it with intentions doesn't mean he knows he's doing it with intentions.”
“Maybe he's not, did you think of that? Maybe he's just nice.”
“A woman knows, Dom.”
“Still, don't lead the guy on.”
I set down the comb. “I'm not leading him on. I'm just existing.”
“All right, all right.” He looks kind of downtrodden, and I sort of feel bad, but I tell myself that this is being a good stepsister. I'm beating this out of him before Lexie 's a teenager.
Mike shows up dressed as a football player, which on some guys would look kind of douchey but on him is funny, since he's got that lanky swimmer's body and no ego to speak of. He's polite to my mom and to Dominic and shakes my bobble-headbanded stepsister's hand, which makes her giggle, so we can add him to the list of people Lexie likes more than me.
“Elisha went all out,” Mike says in the car. It's a little four-door, so clean and car-smelling that it feels like a rental. Couldn't be more different from Theo's. “I was over there earlier. She's been hanging up spiderwebs and paper skeletons for like three days. It would be really cringe-worthy if she weren't so happy with how they look. That girl decorates for no one but herself.”
“So it's not a secret from her parents then.”
“Oh, no way. They're cool, though. They stay in their room and do a movie night when Elisha has parties. It's pretty cute.”
“That's really nice of them.”
“Well, she does the same thing when they have parties.”
Once we get there, though, I'm surprised her parents can hear any kind of movie over the noise. Elisha has 90s pop-punk blasting, which is sort of great, and she's darting around in a sexy black cat costume hugging everyone like she hasn't seen them in years. She squeals and jumps on me. “I'm so glad you're here!” she says, and then does the same to Mike, even though he already told me he was here this morning. Still, he doesn't exactly turn down having a half-naked cat pressed against him, because who would. Even I didn't.
There's chips and soda but no alcohol, although I can tell from the way people walk steadily out to their cars and a little less-steadily back in that there's a not-in-the-house rule if not exactly a not-at-the-party rule. I don't really know any of the people who are going out drinking, though, so I guess it's a sober night for me. That's okay. All the better to enjoy watching people in weird costumes make fools of themselves. Watching this girl Frankie dressed as a sexy squid (apparently a thing) try to grind on the awkwardly un-costumed Jeremy, her tentacles splayed out and poking him in the eye every time she gyrates, feels like the last stage of my initiation to my new school. And maybe that's why I realize, right now, that I love it here.
I text Aanya that I miss her mostly because I feel guilty that at this minute I don't.
“Hey!”
I turn around. It's Lucas, dressed in one of those skeleton costumes that's the black turtle neck and pants with glow-in-the-dark bones on it that everyone has to wear at some point in their life.
“Hi.”
“How are you?” And then he gives me a hug, and it's not a creepy let-me-feel-you-up hug. It's a dad's new wife's ex-husband's fiance's daughter hug. He gives me a little squeeze and lets go.
That was extremely endearing.
“I'm good!” I say. “This time I'm at a party where I actually know people.”
“I'm sorry about that,” he says.
“About what?”
“Dragging you to that party and then getting all wasted and shit. I was just...I was trying to hook up with this girl and it kind of body-snatched me.”
“So no dice on the girl, then?”
“Zero dice.”
“That sucks.” I guess the kissing I've seen has ended.
He shrugs and sips from his cup. “Life goes on.”
“Well, it's okay,” I say. “I actually ended up having kind of a good time.”
“That's because you're...” he says, and I can't hear the last word over the music. Which is awkward, because I don't know for sure if it was a compliment or an insult.
“I'm what?”
“Easy-going,” he says, louder. “It's because you're easy-going.”
Huh. “You think?”
“Yeah, sure, why not?”
I figure an easy-going person would accept why not as an answer, so I just smile and tell him thank you.
“You want a drink?” he says.
“No, I'm good.”
“Cool. Catch up with you later?”
“Sure.”
About half an hour later, I'm dancing with Elisha and two other girls from swim team when Elisha looks up and goes, “Who the hell is that?”
Two people have just come in the door. The guy is dressed as Frankenstein (the monster, not the dude) complete with green makeup on his hands and feet, bolts in the
