Eliza and Her Monsters(24)

“Excuse me, everyone?” A voice comes over the speakers. The girl dressed as a sushi roll at the cash register holds a microphone. “It’s almost time for the costume contest. If you’d like to be entered, please come fill out an entry card and put it in here.” She holds up a jar shaped like a grinning skull.

“Oh, yes.” Cole pushes himself out of his seat. “Anyone else entering? Wallace and Eliza, don’t answer. I’m putting your names in anyway.”

Before I can say no, Cole is gone.

Wallace’s shoulder bumps mine. He’s always like this, he texts only to me. We won’t do it if you don’t want to.

I dig my fingers into the edge of the seat and stare at the tabletop, deepening my breaths so it doesn’t feel so much like my lungs are being crushed. Stand in front of all these people, in this costume that isn’t even mine, and expect them to, what, applaud? I’ll fall on my face.

“Eliza?”

I look up. Wallace, Megan, Leece, and Chandra all stare at me.

“Um, what? Sorry?”

“Oh, honey, don’t look so worried!” Megan says. “I just asked how long you’ve liked Monstrous Sea.”

“Maybe three years?” I say.

“Wow, so you liked it pre-Masterminds,” Leece says.

I liked it pre-everything.

“Is Kite your favorite character?” Chandra asks.

“Uh, no . . . Izzy is.”

“Mine too!” Chandra jumps in her seat, her squeal loud enough to crackle the computer speakers. “No one understands the greatness that is Izarian Silas! That idiot Cole dresses up like Rory as if he’s the best Silas, but the only reason Rory Silas is any good is because Izzy is his father!”

On the other side of the screen, Leece gasps.

“Take that back, you whore!”

Chandra cackles. Megan belatedly covers the toddler’s ears, but the toddler isn’t paying attention anyway. Wallace shakes his head and smiles.





CHAPTER 14


Cole marches back, chest puffed out in pride, with three cups of punch for him, me, and Wallace. Megan has a no-spill water bottle that the toddler knocks over every ten seconds. I nurse the punch close against my chest and hunker down in my seat while the five of them talk. I am better this way, unseen and unheard, hidden in Wallace’s bulky shadow. Some of the other Monstrous Sea fans have migrated away from our table, so I turn my face to the empty space beside me whenever I need to breathe.

I learned years ago that it’s okay to do this. To seek out small spaces for myself, to stop and imagine myself alone. People are too much sometimes. Friends, acquaintances, enemies, strangers. It doesn’t matter; they all crowd. Even if they’re all the way across the room, they crowd. I take a moment of silence and think:

I am here. I am okay.

Then I let myself listen in on the conversation again, and slowly slip back into it.

It is amazing how much you can learn when you keep your mouth shut. In half an hour, I know that Cole is a high-school sophomore, a rising baseball star who keeps his love of Monstrous Sea a secret to ward off any unwanted questions about his potency on the diamond; Leece is the biggest collector of Monstrous Sea merchandise probably anywhere, and is a world-class gymnast living in Colorado who uses the comic as her go-to relaxation therapy; Chandra’s across the Atlantic, in India, and though her parents don’t entirely approve of the subject matter of her drawings—most of which involve different Monstrous Sea characters embracing in one fashion or another—she sees it as a way of life; and Megan lives a few towns away and is a single mother to the toddler, Hazel, and she works one job as an office assistant during the day and the graveyard shift at the Blue Lane Bowling Alley at night.

Megan was into Monstrous Sea first, Wallace tells me, and she got Cole into it, and that was how he and I met. Then we found Leece and Chandra and took our Angel personas, and the rest is history.

Every once in a while they ask something about me. Friendly questions. How old am I? How did I meet Wallace? What do I do for fun besides read Monstrous Sea? I do my best to answer them, not just for Wallace’s sake, but a little bit for my own too.

These are not enemies. They’re not going to make fun of me for what I like or how I spend my time. They may not be my friends, but they are my people, and just because they’re not behind a screen doesn’t mean they’re not worth talking to.

Still. I miss my quiet bedroom and Davy and my computer. What’s going on with Dog Days right now? Are people missing LadyConstellation in the chat?

When sushi-suit girl calls up entrants to show off their costumes, Cole manages to pull Wallace out of his seat to stand awkwardly out there, but I refuse when my name is called.

“It’s just for a second,” Cole says, motioning me out with his hands. “Come on. Just a second.”

“I don’t . . . I don’t really want to.”

Wallace gently pushes Cole out of the way so he can get back to his seat and grab his phone.

If she doesn’t want to, don’t make her do it.

Cole sighs so overdramatically he must be joking, then turns to tell sushi girl I won’t be participating after all. A few more people from other groups around the room go up. There’s a panel of teenaged judges stationed behind one short bookcase like it’s a desk, and at the very end they get together to deliberate before they announce one of the Hogwarts students as the winner.