Page 73 of Foes & Cons
“Well, here’s to zeal!” he says, managing to twirl me round then lean me back in a dip.
I giggle, letting him take my full weight as I enjoy the upside-down version of Conference Hall A, the lights flashing on the ground and everyone dancing from the ceiling. Someone appears from the dance floor and stops in front of us, and it takes me a minute to realise who it is looking down at me.
“Is that Charlie Chamberlain?” I say, still in full dip.
Charlie Chamberlain nods (I think; it’s difficult to tell upside down). Fake McKinley pulls me up and I sort of fall into him as he steadies me.
“You areterrible,” he jokes, high-fiving me then looking at Charlie Chamberlain. “She’s terrible.”
“Hey,” I say, air-punching him because of my injured knuckles. “I’m notthatbad.”
“You backflip better than you pirouette,” he says, then turns to Charlie Chamberlain. “Did you enjoy the show? Wasn’t she incredible?”
“Yeah, I . . . uh,” he says, glancing at Fake McKinley’s crown. He opens his mouth to say something but shakes whatever it was away and looks at me. “You did great.”
“She totally nailed it.” Fake McKinley holds his fist out again and I oblige, but with an added explosion mime. He smiles at me, raising his eyebrows. “You nailed it.”
Charlie Chamberlain nods, something like a smile flashing on his lips before it vanishes and he looks down at his hand.
“Got this for you,” he says, holding up another bottle of water and frowning at the one I already have (why is everyone making me drinkwater?).
“Thanks,” I say, taking it from him.
Fake McKinley looks over the top of my head at the dance floor, his eyebrows drawing together.
“Guys, I think I just saw Dorothy squaring up to that Tuxedo Vampire who fell on top of her. I better go,” says Fake McKinley. He heads onto the dance floor then suddenly turns, adjusts his crown, then throws his hands in the air and shouts, “Zeal appeal!”
I mirror him and shout it back.
“I don’t even know what it means!” he says, shrugging.
I laugh, shaking my head as he ducks into the crowd towards Dorothy, who is indeed snarling at Tuxedo Vampire.
“What’s that about?” Charlie Chamberlain asks.
“I think Dorothy has beef with that guy because he fell on her,” I say, turning back to him.
“Not that,” he says, stepping closer to me, sending a buzz of static up and down my body. “I meant . . .”
“Wooohooooo!”
We both look round as Roxy dances past us, her hands on the shoulders of someone dressed as Viggo, a long train of people behind her dancing in sequence around the dance floor.
“Haven’t seen drunk Roxy in ages,” Charlie Chamberlain says, gesturing at her.
How would you, after you abandoned us?I think to myself.
“What was that?” he says.
“What was what?”
“You said something about abandoning something?” he says, leaning in.
Shit. Damn me and my inability to keep my internal dialogue tucked up safely inside my head.
“Nothing,” I say, taking a slurp of my beer which is actuallydivine.
We’re standing nearly as close as we were in his bedroom earlier. He smiles, then looks round the dance floor. I watch him, his profile on perfect display for me. It’s nice having free rein to peruse his features this close. Did I tell you Charlie Chamberlain’s eyes are golden? Like, the colour of autumn, and if you look close enough you can see the reflection of leaves falling in them.
