Page 137 of Devils' Day Party
“We have giant vaginas, too,” Jaymin offers, turning and pointing to yet another very fascinating statue in the store's opposite corner. “Take a look around and let me know if you see anything that catches your fancy. Family and friends get a special discount.” Jaymin winks again and then turns away as another customer comes in.
“We have masks here,” I tell Pearl, moving over to one of the glass cases and pointing down at the row of beautiful masks, each one a work of art in its own right. “If you want one, I'd be happy to get it for you.”
“Why though?” Pearl asks, glaring at me before dropping her gaze to the row of monstrously beautiful caricatures beneath the glass. The first mask is a pixie-like pink with translucent wings where the ears should be. The second is a metallic green with long antennae, reminiscent of the emerald ash borer beetle, that awful pest that's become a symbol of Devils' Day. There's a witch mask with a hooked nose, a lion with a glittering mane, and a pale faerie-like face with tiny horns wrapped in gold leaf.
“Because we'll look fierce as hell if we show up in one of these,” I say, moving behind the counter to snag the key for the case from the back wall. Jaymin is busy helping the other customer with the penis statue—believe me, a local artist makes those, and they sell like hotcakes—so I don't bother her, opening the case myself and handing pearl the fae mask with the horns.
She takes it from me, studying the price tag and raising her pale brows, before finally slipping it onto her face. I take the pixie mask and try that on.
“Too soft,” Pearl says as I glance in the round mirror on top of the counter. I agree with her and put the mask back, trying the green beetle one instead. Pearl slips the fae mask on, but it's clearly far too large for her fine-boned face.
“Try this one,” I suggest after I put the beetle mask back, grabbing a black mask with a twisted sneer and fangs. “It's terrifying. You'll scare the shit out of Raz.”
“Nothing scares the shit out of Raz,” Pearl says with a sneer, but she puts the mask on anyway and looks at herself in the mirror for a long, long time. I busy myself trying on masks and then decide to check the drawers underneath the case, where my moms put extra inventory. As soon as I open the drawer and spot the Diana fritillary mask I almost choke. It's blue and black, indicating a female of the species. The males are always orange and black, like the necklace Barron gave me. Or the tattoo on his chest.
“I'd rescue you; I'd be the Rose to your Jack.”
My heart stutters and I stand up quickly, clutching the mask against my heart.
“This one,” Pearl says, looking up at me from behind the façade of a beast. “I want this one.”By the time we get to the Devils' Day party, it's in full swing.
The gatekeeper grins at us from behind a red imp's mask and takes our phones, ushering us through with a bow, his shirtless chest covered in dark glitter.
We park next to Raz's Shelby Cobra, and I find that I can't resist running my fingers over the hood as we pass. He fucked me on this hood, and he doesn't even remember. The thought is sobering, but I make myself smile anyway, my arm hooked through Pearl's as we head to the party. My plan is to stay up all night and watch her, make sure she makes it to sunrise. After that … I don't know.
One step at a time.
I'm wearing the gown I made, the one that Pearl stole from the clothesline that I haven't seen since the day before the original Devils' Day. It's a floor-length gown, made entirely of black lace. Underneath, I'm wearing a black bikini that just barely shows through, giving little hints of skin elsewhere.
As soon as Barron glances over his shoulder and sees me in the butterfly mask, something strange happens in his face. He's sitting around the campfire with Calix, sucking on a honey-colored lollipop with a tiny scorpion inside of it.
Everything goes on Devils' Day, I guess.
“Have you seen Luke?” I ask, pausing next to the Knight Crew's small fire. The bonfire rages behind us, surrounded by the sweaty, gyrating bodies of students wearing masks of all sorts. They look wild tonight, wanton, the very opposite of everything their families wish they could be. To the left of the bonfire, Cami Alhambra is sitting in a circle of other girls, white candles lit between each of them, and a spell book open on the forest floor in front of her.
I turn back to find Calix looking at me like he'd rather wring my neck with his black-gloved hands than answer my question.
