I was sure, at first, that herwewas due to the ringing in my ears. Or the beginning of a sonic concussion. Or maybe her brother—
But then a guy slipped out of the crowd, slung an arm around Millie, and kissed her on the cheek.
I kid you not: Bobby actually stepped between Keme and Millie.
“LOUIS, STOP!” Millie said, but with so much giggling that Louis—and everyone else—knew she didn’t mean it.
Louis was tall. He was broad shouldered. He was practically naked except for a pair of tiny leather shorts and matching boots, and I love Bobby, and he’s the most handsome man I’ve ever met, and he’s everything to me, but Louis looked like a hundred and eighty pounds of chiseled beef. The only hint at what his costume might have been was a pair of devil horns poking up from the artful bedhead of blond hair.
He was, I noticed with a rising flood of inexplicable anger, kissing Millie again. And she was giggling. Again.
With chilly politeness, Indira asked, “Millie, who’s this?”
Not quite under their breath, Fox said, “What’s this?”
“LOUIS, STOP!” But it was a kind of pleased vexation rather than genuine annoyance. Millie caught his hand and yanked him a step closer. “I want you to meet my FRIENDS!”
Here’s the deal: I’m a terrible person. I know that. I accept that. Which is why my biggest question was why Millie’s, uh, enthusiasm hadn’t driven Louis off. I considered the possibility that he was going to steal her kidneys. Or her trust fund. (Even though I knew Millie didn’t have a trust fund.) Or—and I know this makes me a truly awful person—maybe he was closeted, and Millie was a great beard.
“He’s probably a serial killer,” Fox murmured, as though answering my thoughts.
But then I noticed how Louis was looking at Millie. Like,lookingat her. I’m not a prude (although Iamonly thirteen years old inside, and I get squirmy if I have to see too much kissing), but I felt my face heat, and I had to fix my gaze on a safe, neutral spot. Which happened to be Indira’s face. And she happened to look like she was ready to grab Fox’s cauldron and start swinging.
“This is Dash,” Millie said, “and Bobby—oh he’s a DEPUTY!—and Indira, and Fox, and Keme. They’re my BEST FRIENDS!”
Louis was already shaking hands, smiling at us with perfect teeth. “What’s up, Dan? Great rat costume.”
“It’s Dash, actually, and I’m not a rat—”
“He’s a ferret with a dandruffy tail,” Fox informed everyone.
“He’s not—” Bobby tried.
“Oh! You know how you cut up old towels and turn them into rags? That’s what he is.”
“I’m wearing cute ears, gray sweats, and a tail—” I began.
But by then, Louis was already on to Bobby. He held up his free hand in surrender. “I’m innocent! Don’t arrest me! Just kidding.”
Bobby isn’t the most expressive guy in the world, but I knew him well enough to recognize the control he was exercising.
Instead of a handshake, Louis pulled Indira toward him when he took her hand. “God, you look like such a mom. I totally need a mom hug right now.” And then he hugged her. And then heROCKED HER(yes, italicsandcapitalization). If Indira enjoyed being pressed up against all those tightly defined muscles, her face didn’t get the message. Maybe she—like me—was still trying to wrap my head around being told,You look like such a mom.
Fox got a casually dismissive “Your costume is hilarious,” which made Fox look like they were about five seconds away from taking a pair of goggles off their boots and strangling Louis with them.
And then Louis got to Keme. Louis stuck out his hand. Keme stared back; his own hands were tucked under his arms, and his expression was an empty, frozen mask. After a few seconds, Louis laughed, pulled his hand back, and said, “Why the long face, little guy?”
Keme didn’t move, not exactly. But probably only because Bobby was already there, one hand on Keme’s shoulder.
“Louis’s a senior at Arcadia,” Millie said. “He’s a PHILOSOPHY MAJOR. Louis, you should talk to DASH. He LOVES books. HE WRITES MYSTERIES.”
“Nice, Dan.” Louis clapped me on the arm. “Love a fun little mystery. Kind of like dessert after reading a real book, you know?” Before I could respond to that—heck, before I could finish having an aneurysm—Louis said, “Babe, I just saw Ty and Dylan. We’ve got to get over there and getsmashed.” Already towing Millie into the crowd, he gave a quick farewell wave back with a Colgate smile. Millie beamed at us. And then the crowd swallowed them, and they were gone.
I turned. Words were already coming—some combination ofLet’s not get worked upandWhat is that guy’s deal?and then fifteen seconds straight of bleep-censoring. But I stopped when I saw Keme’s face. Rage tightened his features. He wasn’t staring after Millie. He wasn’t looking anywhere. It was a thousand-yard-stare, and at the other end of it, behind all that anger, I couldn’t see Keme. Not really.
Then he twisted free of Bobby’s grip, plunged into the mess of bodies, and disappeared.
Chapter 2
