“Honey, everybody wishes they had hair like that,” Z said, turning my chin back in his direction. “Look up.”
I did, trying not to blink as he applied my mascara.
Zeke was already done up as Zelda—all she had left to do was to put on her costume. Her hair, which reached her chin when it wasn’t slicked back, had been parted on one side, and over each ear were massive red roses attached to golden ram’s horns and a headpiece of dangling tassels and golden coins. Dark shadow and smoky liner made her look like a bedouin, which was appropriate since she was going as a snake charmer—rumor had it that Zelda Fitzperil could tame any snake regardless of size or aggression. She even had a gigantic fake albino python that looked so real, I refused to touch it.
Where Betty and I came from the one percent, Zeke had grown up in Paris, Texas—a tiny town in the northeast corner of the state, close to both the Oklahoma and Alabama borders. They had a miniature Eiffel Tower and everything.
No one was surprised that a town named Paris had produced Zeke, not even if that town was in Texas. It was the best sort of joke cannon fodder, but those of us who knew him well knew those jokes covered up the unpleasant truths of growing up in Paris, Texas as a gay kid whose favorite pastimes included sewing elaborate costumes and doing everyone’s makeup he could get to sit still for him, including his own.
“I wish Joss had made it back for this party. She’s gonna be so mad she missed it—and by a day. What a dick punch,” Betty said, inspecting herself in the full-length gilded mirror leaning against the wall.
“Our roommate, the romcom sweetheart of the silver screen. I can’t wait until she’s back. We need her mellow to balance out the two of you,” I said.
“How long’s she been gone?” Z asked. “Two months now?”
“Three,” Betty and I answered in unison.
“Now all we need is for Tag to come and stay, and Zekey will be a happy girl.” Z popped the lid off a liner pencil like she was unveiling the Crown Jewels.
Betty and I groaned at the mention of my stepbrother, who was the richest transient in the world and held the title of the most magnificent douche bag to ever live.
“Oh, stop it. He’s not that bad.”
Betty scoffed, “Easy for you to say. You’ve never had him shove his tongue down your throat without warning before.”
“And what a shame that is,” Z mourned. “Honestly, I’m shocked you’ll still have two free rooms when Joss gets back,” she started. “You collect friends like some people collect nesting dolls.”
“Stella Spencer’s Strays,” Betty said, gesturing like she was reading a marquee.
“Boardinghouse of the stars,” Z added.
“We should make a sign,” Betty decided.
“And lucky for you two assholes,” I said on a laugh. “God, I can’t even imagine what it would be like to live here alone.” My nose wrinkled.
“You could make a room for every occasion. Like a room full of tiaras,” Z said with the flip of her hand.
“Or you could go the other way. Become a recluse and have a room for every cat.” Betty flipped her hair like a stripper and smirked at herself in the mirror. “Think Levi will find his way in tonight?”
“Oh, he’s gonna find his way in, all right,” Z said, looking down her nose as she lined my lips. “All the way in ’til he hits the end.”
I tried to talk without moving my mouth, but Z shot me a look that shut me up.
“What you need is a fling,” Betty said, exchanging her wig for another, this one a mass of auburn curls so thick, I didn’t think you could get a hand in there if it wasn’t attached to a pair of scissors. Maybe not even then.
“A fling.” Z laughed. “Stella can’t help but love any and everybody. It’s one of the reasons everybody loves her right back.” Finished lining, she booped my nose. “But casual sex? That’s more for you and me, Betty. Not Star Bright.”
“I can do casual sex,” I argued.
Z and Betty locked eyes and burst into laughter.
“What? I can. I was in a non-thing with Dex for two years.”
“Even if I didn’t know you were in love with him, the fact that you just said years automatically excludes it from being even remotely casual,” Z said.
“Maybe I just have bad taste.”
“You have impeccable taste,” Z assured me. “You just trust the wrong guys.”
“Ugh, Dex,” Betty started, never taking her eyes off the mirror as she posed for herself. “I hope he gets genital warts.”
“It wouldn’t have been so bad if he’d really believed his stupid creed about monogamy, but the whole line was bullshit.” I said. “He didn’t up and change his mind about monogamy. He didn’t rewrite his rules for Elsie Richmond—he made up a bunch of nonsense to feed to me so he could fuck whoever he wanted.”
“Be still,” Zelda Fitzperil commanded, and nobody disobeyed Zelda. “Listen—you trust first and ask questions later. It’s one of your great qualities, but sometimes our best qualities are flaws, and this, honey, is one of yours.”
I sighed, held hostage as she dabbed on my lipstick.
“Right now you’re asking me with your pretty little brain, How do I fix it, Z? How do I become a savage bitch who gets what she wants? Teach me your wise ways. Impart upon me your sage wisdom. And here it is—fuck the brains out of that boy tonight and do not, under any circumstance, exchange numbers.”
My brows clicked together.
“Quit it. You’re going to give yourself elevens, and you’re too young for Botox. Blot.”
I rolled my lips together before blotting them on a tissue. “What if I like him?”
“Then you definitely don’t exchange numbers,” Betty said as she approached with a French Revolutionary wig, swirled to look like pink cotton candy. “I don’t know why you didn’t go as cotton candy, Z. This wig is incredible.”
“Because I wore it to the Candy party, and I’ll be goddamned if I wear the same wig twice to our parties.”
Betty sighed. “I don’t know why I’m even bothering. It’s not like I’m getting laid.” She shot Z an accusatory look.
“Don’t gimme that,” Z warned. “You’re the one who suggested I go man-free. It’s only fair you should have to do it with me.”
“You mean not do it,” she corrected. “Whatever. You’re going to cave, and then we’ll both be free of the pact.”
“That right there is exactly why I won’t cave. It’s like you’ve never met me.”
“I know you too well, which is why I’m banking on you folding like a bad poker hand.” Betty hinged to look at herself in the vanity mirror. “Sex or no sex, I still should have worn it.”
“Probably. Because I’m about to tease your hair so hard, you’ll be tasting Aqua Net for a week.” Z leaned back to inspect her handiwork. “I’m a fucking artist. The end. Now, your hair.”
Betty primped next to me. “This Levi guy is hot for sure, but you haven’t dated anybody in the month since Dex, and before that, you were only with him. Even though he was fucking half of Manhattan.”