But that woman complimented me.
When I finally looked back, Theo was watching me with too much interest.
“You have a nickname too, you know,” I said casually, fingering seashells on a pop-up shop’s stand. It was my secret dream to have my own shop and one day have my jewelry for sale for women like her.
My secret, unobtainable dream.
Theo spared me a look. “Trying to get in my head?”
String lights drooped overhead that would glow in the evening, and we would soon be shoulder to shoulder.
You can always tell the difference between a tourist and a townie. Townies know us. They glance at us. Tourists stare.
“Just wondering if you remembered, if you knew you were Crowne Point’s very own lost dog. What’s it like not knowing who your parents are?”
“What’s it like knowing yours, and knowing they don’t love you?” he responded easily, sounding bored.
I glared. “My dad loved me.”
“Mmm… past tense.”
I ground my teeth.
Focus.
“I need to use the bathroom.”
Theo narrowed his eyes but said nothing.
When we got to the bathroom, Theo tried to push his way inside first. I jumped in front of him, blocking the doorway. His hair was wilder in the salty humidity, sticking up yet still soft looking, falling over his piercing eyes.
“You have to be kidding.”
“If only,” he deadpanned. “I go everywhere you go, Reject.”
“I’ll tell everyone you’re a pervert,” I threatened. A leonine smile spread his plush lips, and he leaned forward, forcing me to arch and strain my back to get away.
“Then I’ll have to make sure what you threaten comes true.”
My lips parted, momentarily stunned by his response. So many of my guards had been concerned with reputation. All it took was one artfully placed threat and they kowtowed.
“Stay outside and I won’t lock the door,” I said it with a glare, but I knew I was negotiating with him, and I itched to slam the door.
A spark glittered in his pale eyes, and I swore he knew what I was planning, but then he shrugged and gave me his back.
I slammed the door and focused on the window at the back.
There’s an underground in Crowne Point. A place where elite and townies collide in mutual drug-fueled non-judgment. It takes place about a mile east, in the old amusement park on the now-abandoned pier, once called Crowne Park, now known colloquially as Horsemen’s Wharf. It was named after the four boys who oversee it, who run the meanest gang in town. I never really interacted with them, and that was a good thing.
The Horsemen take pride in their drugs, to the point even people like Grayson begrudgingly acknowl
edge they have good, clean shit. The Wharf is also one of the quickest places to score.
I kicked over the trashcan, hoisting myself up, shimmying my legs through the window, trying not to think about Theo. There’d been a time when he’d lifted me up through windows, and we’d jumped down together.
I released my grip, hopping to the ground.
“Where are you going?”