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When You Come Back to Me (Lost Boys 2)

Page 22

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“Yes, my queen,” I heard Holden say but this time kept my damn eyes to myself.

Evelyn chose a name from the pile of paper strips. “Up first…Violet McNamara.”

Violet hesitated and then picked her way between us seated players, toward the closet. Evelyn shot me a knowing look and I understood what would happen next. She pulled a strip with a new name, showing no one.

“River Whitmore!”

The guys thumped me on the back.

“Remember,” Chance said too loudly. “Be gentle.”

From the corner of the living room came a discordant note from Miller’s guitar. Now he glared at me as if I’d run over his dog, backed up, and did it again.

I hauled myself to my feet, pinned between Stratton’s evil eye and Holden’s relentless gaze. I stumbled inside the closet, brushing heavy coats aside to feel my way along a wall in the near-total blackness.

“Violet?”

“I’m over here,” she called from the back.

“It’s dark as shit…”

I felt my way to the wall opposite her, not wanting to crowd her in or make her uncomfortable. I fought for something smooth to say to pave the way for asking her to the dance. I had nothing.

“This is a crazy party, huh?” Violet said finally. “That Holden is a strange guy.”

“Yeah,” I blurted. “He’s fucking weird. Reminds me of that vampire, Lestat.”

“Oh my God, I said almost the exact same thing! I didn’t know you read Anne Rice.”

“I don’t. Saw the movie. I mean…my mom watched it once. I remember some of it, I guess.”

“Okay.”

Another silence fell. I leaned my head against the wall and stared at the black of the ceiling. I was in a dark, enclosed space with a beautiful girl who was clearly into me. And I felt nothing. Had nothing to say. Not even my prescribed lines.

Violet jumped in. “How are football practices going?”

“Good. Long. You play a sport too, right?”

“Soccer. We don’t start until spring.”

“Cool.”

The convo sputtered and died.

Enough of this bullshit. Just do it. Like tearing off a band-aid.

“So, Violet.”

“So, River.”

“Homecoming dance is in a few weeks.”

“Yes.” Hope came alive in her voice.

“Are you going with anyone?”

Miller Stratton, maybe?



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