Misfits Like Us (Like Us #11)(95)

In a little study, Charlie is leaning a hip against an antique grandfather clock. He’s sipping on a golden-colored drink. “You’re writing a lot,” he tells me. “You’re bound to make mistakes.”

I found him alone here, searching through the dusty old books on the shelves, and I apologized for all the errors in my last fic.

He had more edits than ever before. I messed up the present and past tense in certain scenes. I never do that. Maybe I’m just getting worse.

“If it’s getting too annoying to edit them, just give me the signal and you can jump ship.” I’m offering him an out on a silver platter.

He sips from his champagne flute. “If it keeps some anonymous troll from being a cunt to you, I’m going to keep doing it.”

I blink for a second, taking that in. “Thanks.”

“You can stop thanking me, too,” he replies swiftly. “I’m not doing it to pocket gratitude.”

“No thanks, then,” I nod strongly.

He raises his glass in cheers. I smile and then my phone buzzes.

Get over here. We’re doing a séance in the attic and there are for sure ghosts lurking – Kinney





Did she mean to text me? I’m usually not high-up on her invite list. I frown and reply back, This is Luna. She’s quick to respond.

No duh. Come up to the attic – Kinney





I smile more and glance up at Charlie.

He’s back to perusing the novels on the shelves. I wave, “May we meet again.” It’s a farewell from one of my favorite sci-fi shows.

He nods to me but doesn’t say anything else, and I take my cue to go.

Now…I have to find the attic.

Easier said than done in the maze of the Frey Manor. I do remember seeing my parents in the ballroom, so I backtrack first, and sure enough, Mom and Dad are near cascading red fabric and a taco table.

They’re making googly eyes at each other. At least, that’s what I’ve always called it.

Their love is undeniable, but tonight, a pang fills my heart seeing it—and I canvass the ballroom with a strained neck and glimpses this way and that.

I don’t see him.

I don’t see Donnelly. I don’t know why tonight would be any different than last night. Hallow Friends Eve IV was filled with the kinda angst I didn’t think would belong to me. Side glances in the darkened living room while A Nightmare on Elm Street played.

Moving our beanbags closer, even when we shouldn’t have.

How Orion curled up on his lap, and he didn’t even move my heavy dog off him. He just let him lounge like it was also his puppy, too.

He snuck him pieces of a jerky stick.

He whispered to me, “This is my favorite part.”

I stole some of his popcorn and hid behind his arm during the jump scares.

And still, nothing more happened. We shared a fragile knowledge that this was it. This is all we could be.

With a heavy breath, I push onward towards my parents. Slipping past my Aunt Rose and her diamond-stranded dress, she’s outfitted perfectly as Emma Frost. Like me, she’s not exactly comic book accurate since it’s not as revealing.

I try to bounce over to my parents. Though, the bounce doesn’t feel as springy. When they spot me, they both begin to smile.

And that does make me feel really good, despite any other sad emotion tumbling through me.

Dad doesn’t break away from Mom. With his arms around her waist, he stands behind her lovingly, and he’ll even bend a bit and rest his chin on her shoulder.

“Hey, hi,” I say quietly, maybe too quietly with the music, but I add louder to my dad, “Happiest of birthdays to you.”

“It is one of the happiest.” He eyes the magical ballroom, worthy to be called a Halloween Hellfire Gala. “I am sincerely shocked almost everyone listened to my costume list.” He takes a swig of water. “Mostly surprised by Eliot and Tom. I thought they would’ve come here half-naked.”

“It’s your 50th,” I say with a shrug. “I don’t think anyone wants to stomp on this one, even for a joke.”

He has a half-smile. “It will save me from a heart attack.”

Mom goes wide-eyed. “Let’s not summon the words heart attack on Halloween. It’s bad, bad, bad, Lo.”

“I’m fifty, love. Not in the grave. Plus, look at Connor. He’s been on GQ twice this year and he’s in his 50s. Only good things from here.”

She nods in agreement and then steals a kiss. He’s smiling against her lips.

I’m looking around the ballroom again. This time, I’m trying to figure out which direction is to the attic, but when I turn back to my dad, his smile is gone. Left with only a certain unease that probably rose from me.

“Who are you looking for?” he asks more tensely.

Mom sends him a subtle look that I can’t even read.

“Not who you think,” I say with more bite than usual.

His brows cinch. “Luna—”

“I was just looking for Kinney.” I’m not trying to fight with him on his birthday. I’ve barely ever fought with my parents in my lifetime. The pang in my chest starts hurting worse. “Do you know where the attic is? She invited me to her séance.”

He tries to relax, but tension strains his jawline. “Yeah, yeah.” He nods a few times. “I knew Kinney would love this place.” He tries to smile but he can’t, and then he gives me directions so quickly that I lose track after the first right turn.