“We’re?”
“Me and Xander—and by extension Rae and Cade since it’s also their house. And I guess my mom’s now too,” she rambles. “Although she’ll probably hang out in her room the whole time so—”
“Get to the point,” I plead.
Thea inhales a lungful of air. “Halloween is my favorite holiday, thus making this party very important to me.”
“Did you just use the word thus in a sentence?”
“Yes, yes, I did,” she says. “Anyway, it’s very important that you dress up—”
“Thea—”
“This is important to me,” she interrupts. “I do not want you bowing out or half-assing it. Didn’t you ever want to be a superhero growing up?”
“No,” I answer honestly. “I always wanted to be the villain.”
“Perfect. Be the Joker then. Nova can be Harley Quinn.”
“Everyone is going to be the Joker and Harley Quinn.”
She sighs. “Then come up with something on your own, but make it good.”
“What are you and Xander going as?” I ask, thinking that might give me some idea for my own costume.
“No idea yet. It has to be amazing, though.” She gets a faraway look in her eyes, no doubt imagining all the things she could be. “I want to make this a yearly tradition.” I groan. “Don’t be so whiny. It’s going to be fun. You’ll see.” She rummages in her purse for a piece of gum and pops it in her mouth. “Is Nova here?”
“In the shower,” I answer.
“Oh, well tell her I said hi.”
She stands and her eyes drift over the messy bed and back to me.
“I haven’t made my bed yet,” I say in response to her look.
She looks me up and down and I realize how little clothes I’m wearing and that it’s blatantly obvious I’m not wearing underwear.
“Mhmm, sure,” she responds.
I know she doesn’t believe but I’m thankful she doesn’t delve further.
I walk her to the front door. “Bye,” she calls.
“Bye, Thea.”
I close the door behind her and breathe a sigh of relief. I think I’ve been holding that breath ever since she walked in.
A minute later the bathroom door opens and Nova pokes her head out, her body wrapped in a towel. “Was someone here?”
I scratch the back of my head. “Thea stopped by. Apparently, she’s having a Halloween party and we have to go.”
“Sounds fun,” she says sarcastically before easing the door closed.
I grab my guitar and notebook and sit down on the couch, the lyrics from earlier resurfacing. I haven’t felt like writing or playing since the trip to Florida, so the sudden urge feels nice. Any time I have a dry spell, I have the irrational fear that I’m never going to write a song again.
Nova comes out of the bathroom dressed in a pair of black skinny jeans with tears in the knees and a loose gray top over a lacy bra thing.
I close my eyes, trying to center myself and maintain control.