I squeeze the feather tighter between my fingers and start to head inside, but the bouncer, a big burly guy with a shaved head, puts his leg out, blocking me from getting in. “You got a ticket, kid?”
I reach into my pocket to pull out my lanyard, which says THE GEEKERY STAFF, EVENT SPONSOR in big block letters, but before I can show him, my sister reaches across his leg and grabs my arm.
“He’s with me, Jake.”
The bouncer drops his leg with a big smile because Gray always has that effect on people. “You all have a good night,” he calls after us.
“Doubtful,” I grumble, which makes her punch me in the shoulder as she pulls me through the crowd. Everybody thinks Gray is this perfect lady, but for the record, she is not. I mean, around other people, sure, but I’ve wrestled her over a slice of pizza before and that girl leaves bruises.
“Hey, Bats,” someone calls out, and I whip my head around just in time to see the girl in the peacock dress walk by with her friend.
I want to say hi back, but hi seems too simple now that she’s upped the ante by assigning a nickname.
thinkthinkthinkthinkthink
Calling her Mora like the character seems so formal. But what do I say? “Hey, bird girl”? Nope. “Hey, Peacock . . . Lady”? Nah. “Hey—” But the moment’s passed, and she’s still walking, and the tightness is back in my chest, and my sister is holding my wrist, which helps, but it also probably looks like she’s my date. I shake my hand free, even though the loss makes my heart rate spike back up.
“Who was that?” Gray asks, stepping behind a long table. She shoves an armful of T-shirts and glow sticks at me, all adorned with THE GEEKERY in big letters, as if she expects me to go through the crowd like a proper host and hand them out. I raise my eyebrows right as the music kicks up a notch, the DJ jumping around to try to get the crowd pumped up. I can’t believe how many kids are here, 150 at least, and this room isn’t even that big.
Gray flashes me an apologetic look. “You’re probably not up to handing those out, right? You doing okay, though?”
“Well, I haven’t jumped off any houses lately, so.”
“Not funny,” she says, taking everything back and pulling the feather loose along with it. Gray picks it up, examining it in the purple and blue lights. “What’s this?”
“Nothing,” I say, snatching it from her and smoothing it into a slightly wrinkled version of its former glory.
She taps her chin, narrowing her eyes. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain peacock that’s strutting around tonight, would it?”
“No,” I say, dropping into my seat.
“Okay, great. Because I think the way you were stroking that feather just now was weirding her out.”
I shove my hands under the table and scan the crowd.
She ruffles my hair. “Relax, Ridley. I’m messing with you.”
“Ha, good one,” I deadpan.
“I’m just saying, if you’re going to become lovebirds”—she looks me up and down—“or lovebats, you need to step up your game. As in, like, put the feather down and at least say hi back when she talks to you.”
“I’m not going to be love anything, with anyone, ever again,” I grumble.
“Ridley . . .”
“Don’t you have shit to hand out? God forbid a single person doesn’t have something with our company name on it.”
“Don’t be like that.”
“Can we just get through this night so Allison tells Dad I was here? Where is he, anyway?”
“You know him.” She shrugs. “Always someone to schmooze at our events.”
“Right, so why don’t you follow in his footsteps. You’ll be the delightful hostess, I’ll watch the table, and we’ll never mention my personal life again.”
Gray rolls her eyes. “She wouldn’t have talked to you if she wasn’t at least a little bit curious.”
“She didn’t talk to me; she called me Bats.”
“Same thing.”
“Drop it, Gray,” I say, because my leg is already bouncing as fast as it can go, and if she keeps it up, it might bounce right through the table.
“Fine.” But then she scrunches up her nose, and oh no, I know that look. I hate that look. It’s the look she gets when she thinks she’s being clever.
She unties a balloon from the table, grabs a bunch of free-soda coupons and glow sticks, and pushes herself out into the crowd. And okay, maybe I was wrong. Maybe it was just her “time to get down to work” look. Maybe I can survive the next two hours in relative peace and then hightail it back up to my room without any more drama. Maybe I’ll do such a good job that tomorrow I’ll get invited to breakfast with my father . . . and maybe tomorrow pigs will fly.
I slouch in my chair. The bass line rumbles through my chest like an extra heartbeat, and I dig my fingers into my knees, reminding myself that I’m here and Gray’s right over there and it’s all okay. Someone comes to the table, and I shove some coupons and a glow stick at them, grateful for the distraction.
I spot my sister weaving through the crowd again. She looks over and gives me a little wave, and I know, I know whatever is coming next, I’m not going to like it. And shit, there she goes, right up to that girl in the feather dress, handing her the balloon and some coupons and leaning toward her ear.
Peacock girl—Peak, I decide, is the name I would have settled on if I’d thought of it when she first walked by—laughs and my heart twists. Peak and Gray talk for a bit, a few pointed looks cast in my direction. I slink lower in my seat, fiddling with a glow stick. I don’t realize Gray’s come back until she kicks my chair.
“Hey,” she says, dropping into the seat beside me.
“What was that about?” I shout over the din of the music.
“I told her I was your sister.”
“What?”
“I told her I was your sister,” she shouts even louder.
“No, I heard you. I meant why.”
“So she didn’t think I was your date.”
I tilt my head, glaring at her and swallowing hard. “What did you do?”
“Look.” She points toward the middle of the dance floor. I can’t see Peak anymore, but I see the yellow balloon bobbing along over the crowd like a latex buoy on an ocean of sweaty teens. “I just gave her the balloon so she’d be easier to spot. I thought it would make you feel better if she couldn’t sneak up on you.”