W\\CKED

Besties Night Out

[Sanny]

~ Five years later ~

The plastic tray pressed into the comforter as I rolled more paint onto the brush. I raised it to Juliet's skin, careful not to drip on the silky bedspread that probably cost ten times more than my entire bedroom back home.

She shied away before I touched her, golden locks falling against the freckled skin below her collar bone. "Maybe I shouldn't..."

The bare canvas of her shoulder teased me, peeking out from behind those slender strands of yellow gossamer. If only...

If only what? If only she was attracted to cleavage, curves and thighs instead of guys? If only I was drawn to a sweet dove like her, instead of darker, angrier types, the sort that crackled and cut like broken class? We were destined to be besties, not girlfriends. I was mostly good with that.

Except in moments like right now, when she was just so damned gorgeous I almost couldn't bear how much I adored her.

"You won't regret doing this," I promised. "So many hot boys are gonna bow at your feet and beg for your attention."

"Until they get too close," she murmured.

I glanced at the scar that ran like a single tear down her right cheek. That jagged line marring her face was the sole reason a girl as sublime as Juliet was treated like a plague no one wanted to catch. Surgery couldn't fix it and makeup couldn't hide it and absolutely nothing could eradicate the judgmental assholery of our schoolmates.

"Don't worry, Jul. They're not going see anything you don't want them to."

Her fingers reluctantly drew aside her long strands. I laid the final stroke of paint on a patch of skin just above to top of her slip.

"What if my father gets mad?" she asked.

"He said you could go in costume."

Her gaze drifted down to the nearly-finished symbol: the slick outline of an eye, the jagged lines of a flame burning within it. "But not with this."

The eye of fire? That wasn't what I meant to paint! We'd spent hours sketching designs for the mark that was supposed to represent Jul's inner self. She settled on a rose opening its petals. I liked it because that's what she was to me, a precious flower waiting to bloom. She liked it because she dreamed of finding someone who would unfurl the petals of her heart.

A flaming eyeball wasn't half as romantic.

If I started over, we'd be late for Hallowfest. If we were late, Kay wouldn't be waiting for us, which meant we wouldn't get to meet the smokin' hotties he promised to introduce us to. She was stuck with it.

"Stop worrying what your dad will think." I winked at her. "He's working! He won't get a chance to see it."

Lashes so long they should've been fake hooded her gaze as she glanced my way. She was giving me the back-out look. "I'm not sure I should..."

I leaned closer. "Kay swore we would meet some apocalyptic pecs tonight. That's not going to happen if your gun-toting 'nanny' is around."

Her lips curled into a frown. "I'm not supposed to use that thing, except in emergencies..."

"Please. I spent everything I had making our costumes. Don't let my pathetic allowance go to waste."

She drew away. "That's emotional blackmail."

"Is it working?"

She slid off the bed, heading for the large mirror hung on the wall. The bedroom was swathed in tones of baby blue and angel white, the centerpiece a frilly, canopied bed the size of Manhattan. The whole room looked like it belonged to a seven-year-old princess, not a seventeen-year-old high school senior.

I loved Juliet for not letting anyone turn her into one of those spoiled party brats who'd snicker at the puffy cloud pattern sewn on her pillowcases, but think it was somehow mature to throw up at the party of a friend of a friend whose name they couldn't remember.

She studied the temp tattoo in the mirror. "Why didn't you paint the rose?"

"Last minute impulse," I lied.

"Is this the eye from your nightmare? The one with the demon?"

Nightmare. That's what Mama called it when I woke up in my bed screaming about flying monsters. I was unharmed. Mama didn't remember me leaving the house after Dad walked out on us (and never returned or called even once, that jackass). None of it could have been real. I figured Mama was right to dismiss it as a nightmare — until I met Abadai.

Abadai, who would skewer me with a look if she found out I'd been casually sketching symbols meant to summon powerful, otherworldly beings above my bestie's cleavage just for funsies.

I knew I should scrub it off immediately. But I didn't want to. There wasn't any real proof that it was dangerous or that those otherworldly beings actually existed. Abadai herself said I shouldn't believe in something until I'd seen it with my own eyes.

So I told Jul the first explanation that came to mind: "When I saw the eye in that nightmare, it made me feel like I could protect myself in a really shitty situation. Maybe it will make you feel protected, too."

She looked reassured by that thought. "Thanks." She headed for the walk-in closet, which was as big as the tiny bedroom I shared with my little sister at home. "Sanny...don't leave me alone with a bunch of strangers, okay?"

"I'd never do that," I swore. "Now get ready!" I sashayed toward the hall door. "I'll go play bait."