Wicked Dreams (Fallen Royals, #1)(80)

I’m same, yet different.

Once we’re back at the house, Riley and I lay out our makeup in my bathroom. Our dresses are hanging on the door. I wipe off the day’s makeup and think about a plan. It’s setting in that this is real. This is happening.

The doorbell rings, and luckily I’m still removing my makeup, because I almost jump out of my skin.

Riley throws me a curious glance, then crosses the hall into my bedroom. She returns and says, “The trick-or-treaters are starting to show up.”

I shudder.

“Do you not like it? Halloween?”

“Just some bad experiences,” I say. “I don’t really remember them all.”

After a while, just the association with fear is enough to make me want to hide.

I hold up my hand as she opens her mouth. “No pity, please.”

“Got it. So, music?” She pulls out her phone and opens the music app. “Some fun pop, coming right up!”

Justin Bieber starts playing, and I laugh. “How’d you know I had a crush on him when I was twelve?”

She winks. “Didn’t every girl?”

We do our makeup in silence, occasionally belting out lyrics. Robert or Lenora must be sitting on the porch, since the doorbell has stopped ringing. In fact, the house is almost too quiet for a while.

Riley and I take our time on our makeup. I decide to take Caleb’s words to heart, and I don’t pack on the eyeliner like I’m inclined to do. Instead, I fish out my palette of eyeshadows and create a muted, gray-blue smoky eye. It pairs nicely with my eye color, which can be described as warm chocolate on a good day and shit on a bad one.

I coat my skin with a light layer of foundation, contour the hell out of my cheeks, and add shimmer to my cheekbones and eyelids.

Riley is done at nearly the same time as me. She gets close to my face and swipes lightly just under my left eye. “Perfect. Want to see my mask?” She puts the finishing touches on her lipstick, which is so dark red it’s almost purple.

“Of course!” I’m shocked she didn’t show me earlier.

We go into my room, and she rifles through her bag, finally pulling out a box. She had bought herself the black dress. She lifts the mask to her face, and I grin. It’s perfect.

It’s delicate black lace, patterned like flowers. One side is bigger, sweeping up and back. The other side angles down, ending in dainty lace curls.

I love it.

I tell her as much, and she bursts into giggles.

“Thank you. I think Eli got the white half-mask from Phantom of the Opera.” She pouts behind the mask. “We’ll make a great pair.”

I hug her. It’s impulsive. Since when am I the hugging type?

“I know you will,” I say.

Lenora knocks on the door, pushing it open. “Ah, you girls look so pretty! Riley, that mask is gorgeous. We’ve got about fifteen minutes before the boys show up.”

Riley jerks. “Fifteen minutes? Shoot. Len, we didn’t even get to eat anything!” She rushes out the door, down the stairs.

I chuckle, shrugging. I hate to admit it, but as soon as she mentions food, my stomach growls. The week has been an ongoing saga against food. Or for it, depending on the day.

Lenora’s doctor friend came back with her ultrasound machine after I threw up one morning, but she couldn’t find any internal bleeding. Everything else seemed okay.

Riley returns with a plate of crackers and cheese.

Lenora winks. “I bought that yesterday. Just in case.”

“You’re the best.” I grin.

This plate will be gone in a matter of minutes.

She chuckles and raps her knuckles on the door. “You know what? Keep the guys waiting. Anticipation is half of any romance.”

Riley and I exchange a glance. She’s the first to crack, covering her mouth as laughter sneaks out.

“I have a feeling they’d come up and drag us to the dance…” She tips her head back, laughing harder. “Imagine showing up half-dressed!”

“No shoes.” I snort.

We get quiet, sitting on my bed and stuffing the crackers and cheese into our mouths. We haven’t eaten since lunch. Whose idea was that?

“Let’s get dressed.” Riley closes and locks my door, then unwraps her dress from the plastic. “We’re going to dance our butts off.”

“And where did Caleb say we’re going after?”

She rolls her eyes. “The school hosts an after-party. They lock us all in a building with games and stuff. It’s very… well, lame. No alcohol or anything.”

“When do we get let out?”

“Hypothetically, seven in the morning.”

My lips part. “They’d keep us there until seven? A full, what, eight hours?”

She laughs. “Yeah. It’s ridiculous. Hence why we’re not going…”

She turns away from me and strips, quickly sliding her dress on. “Zip me up?”

I venture closer. She has a tattoo on her shoulder blade. It’s the outline of a bird.

I tap it, not bothering to ask, because she immediately sighs.

“Long story.”

“Okay.” I zip her dress and hook the little catch at the top.

She smooths the fabric and spins around.

I love it just as much as when she tried it in the store.