The Fandom(56)

I study the ground, dodging her accusatory stare, banning thoughts of feathers and potential first kiss scenes from my mind. I notice how intricate her diamanté sandals look in comparison with my boots. ‘Of course I know that.’

‘You’re a hypocrite, Violet.’

The band stops and the world seems strangely empty. Flat. Like a reflection of itself. I open my mouth to respond, but only a strange hissing noise escapes.

We stare at each other for a moment, and then she does this familiar thing – she rubs the little split heart between her thumb and forefinger. A sign she’s anxious. I hadn’t realized she was wearing it till now.

I feel myself soften. ‘Where are you staying?’

‘With a Gem family who live nearby. Thorn has a lot of connections – there are Symps in all sorts of places.’

‘So they know you’re—’

‘An Imp?’ She laughs. ‘Yeah they know. I don’t think they believe it, though.’

‘Try not to sound too pleased.’

She glares at me. ‘Look, I need to get back to Willow.’

‘Wait.’ I catch her arm. ‘How did you end up as his date?’

‘I need to get back to Willow,’ she repeats. ‘If he comes looking for me and sees us together he’s bound to get suspicious.’

I know she’s right, but I can’t bring myself to agree. ‘Yeah, and I need to get back to waiting on you and your Gem friends, slave that I am.’

‘For God’s sake, Violet, I’m an Imp too.’

But I think of those honey hands wrapped around her waist and the jealousy combines with anger, a lethal combination. ‘You’re also supposed to be my best mate – turns out you don’t know how to act like either.’ I turn on my heel and slam my feet into the gravel, my head full and hot and ready to burst.





The rest of the night passes in a blur of perfect teeth and multicoloured dresses. I complete my duties robotically, just trying not to drop that blasted tray. Gradually, the music ends and the guests disperse. I watch Alice and Willow walk up the stairs together, his hand resting on the small of her back, and I feel the pressure of a thousand tears building behind my eyelids. He will never kiss me now, and I may never go home.

I know it’s pathetic, desperate even, but I hang back just like in canon, sweeping the floor. The rhythmic action soothes my mind, the swish of the broom drowning out the words in my head: Violet the Virgin.

I sweep and sweep until the first signs of dawn push through the windows. I’ve let everyone down – Nate, Katie, even Alice, though I think she may deserve it. Finally, I let the tears flow. They drop from my chin and splat on the floor, transforming to smears beneath the bristles of my broom. The treachery burns deep in my chest – how could Alice sabotage our only hope of going home? I know she’s always had this bunny boiler, fangirl crush on Willow, and I know she loves being a Gem, but this is different, this is our lives. Now I have to return to the Imp-hut and look Nate in the eyes as I tell him what’s happened. And then an even more terrifying thought rams its way into the forefront of my brain . . . Thorn will kill Katie.

Katie. I wish she was here instead of Alice. She would never sleaze all over Willow. She would never put the Gems on a pedestal – she would call them a bunch of douchenoggins and follow it up with a quote from Shakespeare. I really miss her.

I pull my sleeve across my face and step into the cool of the dawn. The faint outline of last night’s stars still blink in the sky, speaking of what could have been. Slowly, I drag my boots over the lawn, hoping that if I walk really slowly, I may never reach the hut.

‘Rose.’ The voice moves through the air like a song.

I turn and see Willow striding up the hill towards me. He’s lost the bow tie, and sweat glistens on that triangle of honey-coloured skin. He looks tired, but he smiles and lifts his hands. ‘I promised you that last dance.’

It feels like my feet have sprouted claws and I’m unable to move, except for the huge smile reaching across my face. ‘You took your time.’ Beneath the excitement, I feel this surge of panic – we’re totally off-script. I have no lines to recite. And this isn’t Ash, this isn’t some background noise, this is Willow – this matters.

But Willow just smiles. ‘I prefer fashionably late.’ He places one hand at the base of my spine and gently takes my hand in the other. The heat of his body travels through my clothes. The skin on my throat suddenly feels very exposed. He hums a soft melody under his breath and we begin to turn.

I decide to just take a risk. ‘Who was that girl?’

The humming stops, but we continue to revolve.

‘Who? Alice?’ he says.

I nod. And I can’t help feeling a little peeved that his mouth has formed her real name and not mine.

‘I met her yesterday at some social – a friend of a friend. She just seemed to . . . really know me. It felt like she could read my mind. And Mother had been nagging at me to get a date.’

I tuck my face into his chest so he can’t see my scowl. She used her knowledge of his character to her advantage. It feels like she’s cheated.

‘Well, you looked good together.’ I try to keep my voice light. This close, I can smell his aftershave and the scent of champagne on his breath.