The interior light clicks on as she pushes open the door. “Did you like it?”
“Like what?” I ask, even though I know what she meant.
She rolls her eyes. “Duh. The kiss.”
I shrug and then nod. “Yeah, it was . . . nice.” Way, way, nice. “Much better than that gross kiss with Beck.”
“Okay, first of all, that kiss with Beck doesn’t count because it was . . . well, with Beck. And second of all”—she lets out a squeal as she claps her hands—“I’m so happy for you!”
“I’m kind of happy for me, too,” I admit as I get out of the car, but under the happiness lies fear. Fear of getting hurt. Fear of Grey learning too much about me and not liking what he sees. Fear of Piper ripping me apart. Fear of Logan tormenting me to death. There seems like so much going against Grey and me, but I’ve been through high school hell before. “But will you promise me one thing?”
She bumps the door shut with her hip. “That all depends on what it is.”
“That you won’t say anything to anyone about this, not until I at least talk to Grey some more.”
“Sure,” she says, “if that’s what you want.”
“It’s what I want.” At least until I figure out what exactly is going on with Grey and me. Sure, we kissed, but it’s not like we’ve been out on a date or anything. Maybe he just wants to be friends who kiss, something Beck and Wynter tried once for a couple of weeks when we were in middle school. Needless to say, that turned into a disaster.
“We so have to pick you out a smokin’ hot outfit,” Wynter declares as we enter the foyer of her house.
“I don’t want to dress smokin’ hot, just nice.” I slip off my shoes by the front door and pad across the marble floor, heading for the split stairway.
“Okay,” she says easily, but I can tell it’s going to be a pain in the ass for us to agree on an outfit.
After sifting through her closet for an hour, I end up putting on a red dress that’s fitted at the top and flows out at the bottom. I top it with a three quarter sleeve leather jacket and ankle boots. I leave my hair down in waves and add a drop of lip-gloss, eyeliner, and mascara. Willow goes with a longer, backless dress and gladiator sandals. She pins up her hair and stains her lips dark red.
I check my phone every so often to make sure no one calls. If my grandma does find out I snuck out, my mom will call me. I’m not sure what I’ll do if that happens, especially since I left my other phone with the tracking app on it at home. So, not only will I have to explain why I’m not at the house, but she’ll learn about what I did with my phone. All I can do is pray to God that my grandma doesn’t wake up and go look in my room. But, no matter how worried I am, there’s no going back. I made the choice to sneak out tonight. I made the choice of what kind of person I am, one who picks parties and friends over doing what their parents want.
Willow and Ari show up as we’re getting ready to leave. Willow’s sporting the tank top, plaid shirt, and jeans she went to work in, and Wynter insists she has to change.
“Beck said the party was fancy casual,” Wynter explains when Willow puts up an argument.
Shaking her head, Willow snatches the short, black dress in Wynter’s hand and steps into the closet to put it on. “Fine. But don’t get used to this. I like my grungy look.”
“What the hell is fancy casual?” Ari asks as he sits down on the edge of Wynter’s bed.
Wynter shrugs as she piles makeup into a glittery handbag. “I don’t know, but it got her to change out of her work clothes, didn’t it?”
“Why does it matter?” Ari asks, self-consciously glancing down at his blue jeans and plaid shirt.
“It doesn’t,” she says, adding another pin to her braided up-do. “And I really don’t care if she dressed up or not. I was just trying to get her out of her work clothes.”
“Should I change, too?” Ari asks. “Or do I pass the Wynter outfit inspection?”
“Hmmm . . .” She folds her arms as she critiques his attire. “I don’t know. I think there might be something missing.” She steps toward him and playfully ruffles his hair with her fingers. “There you go. Much better.”
Ari rubs his hand over his hair, flattening it back into place. “Was that really necessary?”
“Maybe not, but it was kind of funny,” she replies. “Besides, I think you might be able to rock the whole sexy, bed head look. You know, mix it up a little. You’ve had the same look since I met you.”
“Thanks for the suggestion,” he responds dryly, “but I think I’ll keep my look.”
Wynter gives a nonchalant shrug. “Didn’t hurt to try, did it?”
He sighs tiredly as he leans back on his elbows. “So, how long do we have to stay at this little shindig? Because I have to get up early.”
“You always have to get up early,” Wynter points out as she slips on a pair of hoop earrings.
“I have to make sure I’m home at a decent time, too,” I say, sitting down in the chair in front of the vanity. “It’s too risky staying out for too long.”
“Don’t worry, princess; we’ll get you home by midnight,” Wynter teases as she slides a silver cuff bracelet on.
“Thanks, Prince Charming,” I quip.
Her eyes sparkle with hilarity. “Prince Charming? I thought that was—”
“Shush,” I warn, wagging a finger at her. “Don’t even think about bringing him into this.”
Ari’s gaze dances back and forth between the two of us. “Bring who into what?”
“Luna likes Grey,” Wynter shamelessly spills the beans. “And he kissed her today.”
“Way to keep a promise, you traitor.” I lean forward, snatch a pillow from the bed, and chuck it at Wynter.
It smacks her in the face, but she only laughs. “I didn’t think that included Ari or any of our other friends.”
“And Beck already knew about it, anyway!” Willow shouts from the closet. “Well, not the kissing part, but that Grey likes you.”
“How the heck does Beck know that?” I ask.
She sticks her head out of the closet. “I’m not sure. He said he could just tell.” She ducks back inside. “But he told me he gave Grey a lecture on how to treat you.”
I drop my head into my hands. “Jesus, that’s so embarrassing.”
“Why? If Grey likes you at all, he should be glad you have friends looking out for you,” Ari says.
I peek at him through the cracks in my fingers. “Were you there when he did it?”
“No, but I’m glad he did.” He shoves up the sleeves of his shirt. “Grey seems like he’s going through some kind of character change where he’s trying to be a nice guy, but that doesn’t mean that we all don’t worry he’s going to end up hurting you.”
“I’m not as breakable as everyone thinks,” I say, circling my fingers around my bruised wrist.
“We know that,” Wynter chimes in, “but that still doesn’t mean we like seeing you get hurt. We all saw what Grey and his friends put you through sophomore year, and we never want to see that happen again.” She places her hands on my shoulders and looks me dead in the eyes. “Just promise me that you’ll be careful, take things slowly, and let us have your back.”
“Fine,” I say. “But please try to lay off the lectures for a while.”
“I’ll try, but I’m not making any promises.” She jumps back right as the closet door swings open, almost hitting her.
Willow curses as she trips out, tying the plaid jacket around her waist. “Oh, my God, there’s too many shoes in there.”
“There’s no such thing as too many shoes.” Wynter evaluates Willow’s outfit with wariness. “You’re really wearing the jacket like that?”
Willow nods, giving her the death glare. “And no more arguing about my outfit. This is what I’m wearing. Deal with it.”
Wynter’s lip twitches as she notes Willow’s unlaced boots. “All right.” She collects her house keys and purse from the dresser, and then the four of us head out the front door.
Beck only lives a few blocks down, and since none of us wants to make the commitment to being the designated driver, we walk. As we stroll up the sidewalk underneath the glow of the streetlights and moon, Ari and Wynter fall into a conversation about why her neighbors have Christmas decorations still up.