Infini (Aerial Ethereal #2)(87)

My heart hurts for Thora. Because I know what it’s like to be boxed into a contract and dark threats. It’s a terrible, powerless feeling. I can’t ask if she’s okay or reach out since she still hasn’t announced her pregnancy to the troupe.

She also doesn’t know that Luka and I overheard the news, but I think she’s aware of my suspicion. I’ve seen her rush to our suite bathroom, her face pallid with nausea.

“Pick a color, birthday girl.” Camila raises four tubes of lipstick to Katya. I think we can all tell Katya is debating what’s the “right” color.

Kat studies the tubes and then Camila, who’s already finished her own makeup: bright magenta lipstick, neon-yellow eye shadow against her brown skin that’s golden in the lamplight. Camila wears striking and bold shades that most wouldn’t pick.

“What should I choose?” Katya asks.

“What are you wearing?” Camila wonders.

“I don’t know yet. Can you help?” she asks me and Thora and points to our shared closet. I already have her outfit covered, but it’s a huge surprise. Thankfully Thora is in on it.

“Definitely,” Thora says as we both stand. Keeping the birthday surprise alive, we pretend to search through the closet.

Thora plucks out a short emerald dress of mine, and my eyes grow in horror as she displays it to Kat. “What about this?”

I try to stifle a cringe. Don’t cringe. That dress—it’s six years old. I had sex in it. With Katya’s older brother.

Kat tilts her head. “Is it too plain?”

“Yeah,” I say. “Really plain. You can do better.” I snatch the dress from Thora, and she mouths, what?

Not able to tell her the full truth, I lean close and our arms touch as I whisper, “I had sex in this.”

Thora puckers her lips like ohhh. And she returns the dress. “I won’t suggest anything else,” she whispers. “We’ll tell her to open your gift soon, and I think Luka’s too. He wrote don’t show Nik on the envelope.”

I smile just hearing Luka’s name. I’m not sure why he texted me earlier about his gift to Kat. I think she’ll be over-the-moon when she sees it.

Thora slides hangers from left to right. “And then her cousins should’ve picked out jewelry.”

We’re very different—me and Thora. I see how badly she wants situations to work out in everyone’s favor, but I’ve been on the opposite side of luck too much to believe in real good fortune.

I whisper, “You’re way too optimistic about the Kotovas.” In New York, they always purchased one large ticket item for Kat’s birthday. Usually it’s superfluous and something they can use. Like a dirt bike.

And golf clubs.

“Katya said the same thing,” Thora tells me. “I gave them a list though, and I wrote down which stores to visit. If they can’t follow that, then…” She scowls, an intentional scowl. Not just RBF.

“If they screw up, it’s their fault,” I whisper, “and Katya appreciates us just being here.” But I understand wanting to give Katya more. Especially when she asks for so little.

As slowly as I’ve crept back into Luka’s life, I’ve been sliding into Kat’s too. At night, we lie on our bunks and chat for hours about nothing and everything. Baseball and PoPhilly and fashion, my interests and hers. But there’s an underlying fear that it’ll all come crashing down.

One day. One moment.

That’s all it took the first time.

“You don’t have to overthink,” Camila tells Kat, waving the lipsticks hypnotically from side-to-side. “What speaks to you?”

Katya sighs sadly. “I don’t know.”

“You like glitter,” Thora says. “Don’t you?”

I nod in agreement. Katya has tons of feather boas, most coated with glitter.

Camila rummages in a makeup pouch. “I can highlight your cheekbones with glitter.”

Katya tucks a flyaway hair behind her ear. “Isn’t glitter juvenile?”

“Not really, and even if people think it, so what? I was bartending yesterday and some guy said that my green lipstick looked like a Fruit Roll-Up.”

“What’d you do?” Katya wonders.

“I told him no free shots for you, and I applied an extra coat of lipstick in front of his face.” Camila procures a tube of silver glitter highlighter. “Look up.”

Kat lifts her face higher. “Would you’ve done that, Baylee?” She’s always remembering that I exist in the room when, to most people, I just fade into the background.

“I’m not that outspoken to strangers unless I’ve had about three shots.” I shrug. “I probably would’ve just glared, taken my drink, and walked away.”

Thora leans on the closet door frame. “I think I would’ve stumbled over my words and then waited for the awkward reply.”

Katya ponders this.

I hope she sees that she doesn’t have to be Camila or any of the Calloway sisters. Or me or Thora. She can just be Katya Kotova. Whoever that girl ends up being, I’m glad I’m here to witness. I really don’t want to miss that too.

I pretend to examine a new romper that Katya bought. “Where do you bartend?” I ask Camila.