Chapter 29
‘IS THAT YOU, Elle?’ I heard June say when I walked into Lee’s house.
‘Yeah!’
She came out of the office, and smiled at me. ‘I’m just locking away some of the ornaments,’ she explained. ‘So they don’t get destroyed.’
I laughed. ‘Good idea. I’m just going to head on upstairs and get ready.’
‘Sure thing, hon.’
She and Matthew were going out to some theatre show with my dad tonight – they got a night out, and they were out of the way for the party too. Brad had a soccer tourney tomorrow, and was staying over a friend’s anyway, so Dad was tagging along with Lee’s parents.
‘Lee said the boys are going to turn up earlier to help move some furniture, by the way.’
‘Oh, are they? Cool.’
‘Do you want anything to drink?’
‘I’ll grab something out of the fridge, thanks.’ I smiled again as she went into the lounge to get the rest of the ornaments, and grabbed two cans of orange soda from the fridge to take upstairs.
Lee’s door was open, and he was hanging upside down off his bed with his earphones in. ‘Long time no see.’
‘I come bearing drinks.’
‘Awesome.’ He rolled off the bed and landed in a heap on the floor before scrambling to his feet again to take the can.
‘Cam and Dixon are going to drop by at seven to help move the couches and stuff, and set up the speakers.’
‘Yeah, your mom said.’
I set down my drink on Lee’s desk and pulled my costume out of the bag. I stood up, holding the dress against me, and pulled a face. ‘Maybe it’ll look all right on . . .’ I thought aloud.
There was a slit in the skirt that went too high for my liking, and the top seemed too small in the wrong places. The dress was a flimsy kind of material in metallic shades; the skirt and cape were emerald green, the top of the dress was ruby red. There was a mustard-colored belt to go around my hips.
‘Try it on,’ Lee said, his voice sounding somewhat hollow.
I looked up, frowning curiously at his voice, and laughed at the Batman mask he wore. He threw the cape over his head like a veil.
‘I’m not looking, I swear.’
I laughed. ‘You look like an idiot.’
‘Sure you’re not just looking in the mirror, Shelly?’
‘Ha ha ha,’ I retorted sarcastically, rolling my eyes. I tugged off my shorts and tank top, and stepped into the dress. Lee came over to zip me up, except that wasn’t too easy. It was too tight around my boobs, and I heard a couple of stitches rip as Lee yanked the zip the rest of the way. I fastened the belt around my waist.
‘Jeez, did it have a built-in push-up bra?’
‘No,’ I huffed. It was actually kind of hard to breathe. But the slit was not as high as I’d expected, and the skirt was actually a decent length.
‘It doesn’t look that bad.’
‘You sure?’
‘Positive. Besides, there’ll be girls there looking like hookers. It’ll be fine.’
‘You sure?’
He laughed. ‘No, I was lying. Seriously, though, there’s nothing you can do now. Unless you want to turn up in your underwear and say you’re a Playboy model?’
‘No, thanks. I think I’ll stick with this.’
‘Shelly, it’ll be fine. You’ll be the belle of the ball.’
Almost an hour later, my hair was clipped back and cascaded in dark curls over my left shoulder, and I was ready. Lee made an awesome Batman, and despite the breathing constrictions, I liked the Robin outfit.
Lee’s parents left when my dad arrived and, not two minutes later, the doorbell rang.
Cam and Dixon must have coordinated; those costumes weren’t a coincidence.
Cam had a posh old-timey white wig and a naval hat that matched his uniform. And then Dixon was there in full Captain Jack Sparrow gear – from a wash-off tattoo to the tricorne hat to a plastic sword and pistol.
‘Commodore Norrington, at your service, ma’am,’ Cam said, sweeping off his hat in an elaborate bow and kissing the back of my hand. I bit back a laugh as he straightened up and put his hat back on.
‘Cool costumes,’ I said.
‘Very authentic,’ Lee added.
‘Thanks,’ they both said unanimously, and laughed.
Dixon said, ‘My brother hooked us up with a discount, since he knows some guy who owns a costume warehouse.’
I went to swipe a finger across Dixon’s cheek as I said, ‘Is that fake tan?’
‘Don’t touch!’ He batted my finger away. ‘Do you have any idea how hard it is to get three gallons of cocoa powder on your face like this?’
‘It’s cocoa powder?’ Lee snorted. ‘Like the stuff you use to make hot chocolate with?’
‘My sister uses it as bronzer when she runs out. She said it’d work.’
The three of us just laughed at him. Not in a mean way – it was just the fact that Dixon was taking beauty advice from his fourteen-year-old sister.
‘Shut up,’ he said, mock-glaring at us all.
‘Okay, okay, we’re sorry,’ Lee chuckled. ‘It looks cool though.’
‘I should hope so,’ he muttered. ‘Anyway – furniture?’
‘I’ll sort out the speakers,’ Cam said.
‘I’ll help Cam,’ I volunteered.
‘Yeah, wouldn’t want you to break a nail now, would we, Shelly?’ Lee teased.
‘I was thinking more along the lines of I might mess up my hair.’
‘Dude,’ Dixon said to him, ‘your sidekick sucks.’
I rolled my eyes at them and went off with Cam. Lee and Noah had purchased several sets of speakers that we could hook up to the big docking station in the lounge, but they were in a closet with a tangled mess of wires.
It didn’t take too long to set them up, though, and Dixon and Lee pushed all the furniture to the edges of the lounge and the game room, and the kitchen was cleared as much as possible. There was plenty of space for a crazy house party – all we were missing was the guests.
And they arrived thick and fast, right on time.
Soon enough, the Flynn household had music pounding through it, and swarms of teenagers – no, not teenagers: more like a menagerie of movie characters.
There were Disney princesses, fairies, and Candice made an amazing zombie version of Alice in Wonderland. Her boyfriend had turned up as the Mad Hatter, à la Johnny Depp (what was it with everyone dressing up as him? I think there was an Edward Scissorhands somewhere too). Karen embraced her ginger hair and was Ginny from Harry Potter.
There were both male and female versions of superheroes, from Spider-Man to Wonder Woman to Captain America. Warren had come as Dumbledore, a tacky beard half hanging off where he hadn’t stuck it on properly. Harry Potter characters seemed like the default – I’d thought we’d be swarming with 007s, not half of Hogwarts.
My favorites had to be Tyrone and Jason.
Lee and I had opened the door to Tyrone. He stood there, topless, in a pair of denim cut-offs that looked like they’d been jeans before he hacked at them with scissors. I got who he was straight away – he had the short dark hair and the dark skin to pull off the character.
‘Happy birthday for Sunday, guys,’ he smiled.
‘Thanks. But, uh, what are you meant to be? A Calvin Klein model?’ asked Lee.
‘He’s the werewolf from Twilight,’ I told him in a ‘duh’ tone of voice.
On cue, Tyrone turned to show us the tail duct-taped to the butt of his jeans. ‘I cut it off my sister’s old stuffed dog,’ he told us.
‘Right . . .’
Then there was a, ‘Hey guys! Happy birthday!’ and Jason came into the porch, wearing a pale blue shirt – unbuttoned to show his jock’s abs; his light brown hair stood up straight, and he was covered in glitter.
‘Who are you, the Glitter Monster?’ Tyrone jeered at him.
‘You’re one to talk,’ Jason scoffed. ‘I mean, what are you?’
‘I’m a werewolf.’
‘Yeah?’ he scoffed. ‘Well, I’m a vampire. The vampire.’
‘Dude . . . that costume sucks,’ Lee quipped, making the two of us crack up completely.
Tyrone and Jason had come as Edward and Jacob from Twilight. Their costumes were pretty good matches, aside from the fact that Jason wasn’t deathly pale – although he put in a pair of plastic fangs.
It was surreal, looking around the party. Ninjas and sailors were playing pool with Count Dracula and Rocky Balboa. Mermaids and fairies were making out with firemen and GI Joes.
I hadn’t seen Noah yet, though. And believe me, if he’d been there, I’d have known.
I did feel a little left out – all the couples were making out, and then people were randomly hooking up in the party spirit.
But I was okay. I was chatting with people and laughing and joking around. A few of the girls asked me where Noah was, but everyone was too busy talking about the costumes to be that bothered about the latest couple to grace the social scene.
I did want to know where he was . . . But honestly? I was having so much fun, I barely gave myself time to wonder why he wasn’t here with me.
‘Doesn’t Faith look so pretty in the Grecian dress? I heard it was her grandma’s.’
‘Oh my God, have you seen that thing Tammy’s wearing? I mean, what’s she even supposed to be? A Victoria’s Secret model?’
‘Joel looks so hot in that sailor outfit, don’t you think? Oh my God – I think he just looked over here. Is he looking? Oh my God, no, don’t look! Not so obviously! Oh God, he just saw me. Quick – pretend to say something funny.’
That kept most of the girls busy, if they weren’t making out or flirting with guys.
And the boys? They certainly didn’t want to hear all about how things were going with Noah and how great a kisser he was.
I wandered out to the back yard and found Dixon hanging out with some of the guys by the pool. He was pretty tipsy and singing, ‘Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate’s life for me!’ at the top of his lungs.
I laughed. ‘And here I was, wondering where all the rum had got to.’
Then, all of a sudden, arms curled around me from behind and I felt warm breath in my ear. ‘Hey, birthday girl.’
I turned around and pushed up the hat so it didn’t conceal his face. Not that I needed to see his face to know who it was. ‘So you finally decided to show your face, then?’
He chuckled. ‘Yes, ma’am.’
He was wearing a charcoal-gray pinstripe suit with shoulder pads, a white shirt and black tie, extremely shiny shoes that would probably show your reflection, and one of those ivory 1920s hats with a black ribbon sewn around it.
‘Al Capone?’ I smiled. ‘You look—’
He cut me off before I could finish – cut me off by smashing his lips to mine, if only for a brief second. ‘Don’t. Say. That. Word.’
I giggled. I wasn’t even aware that everyone was looking at us. Aside from the end of the Summer Dance, nobody had really seen us together much. But I didn’t even register that practically everybody we knew was here, at our party, looking at me and Noah.
‘It is, though.’
‘Don’t.’
‘Why do you hate it?’
‘I’m the toughest guy in school. I drive a motorbike, I get in fights. And you’re calling me that? Of all the adjectives out there, you pick that one?’
‘I’m sorry. But it’s so appropriate!’
He gave a chuckle, and tweaked my nose. I grimaced, but it only made him laugh more.
‘Having fun, then, birthday girl?’
‘Hmm, not just yet.’
He cocked an eyebrow, his head tilting to the side, like a curious dog. I smiled in response to his unspoken question before going up on my toes to whisper in his ear, ‘I haven’t had my birthday kiss yet.’
He just looked at me for a long moment. I felt my pulse pick up; maybe I couldn’t really pull off sexy or seductive. It was a stupid thing to do . . .
He leaned forward a little, his lips barely brushing mine, let alone kissing me.
With his lips like that, he said, ‘What happened to the sweet, naïve, innocent little Elle Evans I thought I had to keep safe from a horde of hormonal teenage guys?’
‘The kissing booth happened?’
He chuckled again; I felt the sound reverberating through his chest where my hand was resting.
‘I guess so.’
‘So do I get my kiss now?’ I asked, pulling away from him to pout. I wasn’t sure if my puppy-dog expression only worked on Lee and my dad, but it seemed worth a shot.
‘You do know it’s not actually your birthday yet?’
‘So? What’s your point?’
He rolled his eyes, but gave me a peck on the cheek before pulling my arms away and starting to walk off. I didn’t move, I didn’t even blink – I was too stunned. A peck on the cheek? That was all?
‘Hey,’ I called after him. For some reason I wanted to laugh, probably because we both knew he was teasing me – but I kept my expression calm, controlled. ‘You think I’m letting you get away with that?’
‘I’m Al Capone,’ he replied, cool as a cucumber. ‘I can get away with anything.’
‘Very funny.’
‘I thought so,’ he said. His mouth curled up in his trademark smirk, yet his eyes were glimmering with amusement.
I couldn’t help what I did next.
I pulled a face at him, even sticking my tongue out, like a little child.
All Noah did then was laugh – a proper laugh; the hearty kind; the kind where your eyes water and your mouth stretches into a smile so wide that your cheeks cramp up and your stomach aches after thirty seconds.
‘God, I love you, Shelly,’ he said quietly, the laughter still in his voice and his eyes and his face.
Maybe it was the way he was holding me, or the look on his face, or the laugh, I don’t know – but whatever it was, I practically swooned. No kidding – I knew what all those cheesy romance books meant when they talked about your knees going weak and feeling like you just wanted to melt. And if Noah hadn’t been holding my shoulders, I was sure my legs would’ve buckled under me.
I felt my own mouth mirror his smile and he said, ‘I’ll catch you in a little bit. Go party, birthday girl.’
‘Wow. Who’d have thought I’d see the day when overprotective, violence-junkie best friend’s brother would tell me to “go party”?’ I teased. ‘And not tell me to watch what I drink or who I talk to, or make a comment about how I’m dressed.’
I expected him to roll his eyes, or laugh at me, or make a witty comment back. But actually, he gave me a sheepish smile, looking kind of . . . guilty.
‘I didn’t mean it in a bad way,’ I told him.
‘I know. Don’t worry. I am sorry for that, though. You know – being all . . .’
‘Overprotective? Controlling? A jerk-face?’
He laughed. ‘Yeah. That. But just for the record . . . You look extremely hot tonight.’
I grinned and blushed all at once, making him smirk.
‘Now go party, Elle, and I’ll find you in a bit.’
‘All right,’ I said brightly, giving him a kiss on the cheek as I breezed past. All of a sudden I could feel dozens of pairs of eyes on me.
So I braced myself and grabbed a can of Coke from the fridge, turning around to face all the swarming girls who were cooing about how cute we were as a couple, and how jealous they felt; how hot Flynn looked, and how lucky I was; and then again how cute a couple we made.
‘I wish I had what you had,’ Tamara told me with a wan smile.
‘What? A hot bad-boy?’ I frowned in confusion.
She laughed. ‘No. A fairy-tale ending.’