by Drew Hayes
“In other words, a lot like Phil,” Clarissa surmised. “Okay then. I’ll still do it. I’m not sure if I’ll want to talk to him, or even know which one he is, but I’ll come speak to the class. However, I’m amending our agreement to where your rounds have to be top-shelf. Agreed?”
“For you, Clarissa, I will happily strike that bargain,” Blaine said.
83.
“I’m not coming out,” Chad said, his voice echoing through the Melbrook common room despite speaking from behind the closed door to boys’ lounge. “I was misled on my costume, and I feel it is inappropriate to walk around in.”
“Don’t be such a spoilsport,” Angela called. Her own costume was a mystery, as she was wearing a long blue robe over the length of her body. The only clue the others had was that her blonde hair was teased up in a messy bundle. Otherwise, she was totally concealed.
“It can’t be that bad,” Alice said. She was dressed in a blue and white dress, with a simple black hairband running across her head. Sewn to her left shoulder was a purple-striped, stuffed cat with a wide grin, giving away a hint to her identity for those who didn’t pick up on the subtle cues. For Alice, the idea of dressing up as another Alice tickled her with a strange humor, which made the costume all the more fitting.
“I assure you, it is rather bad,” Chad’s voice reiterated.
Alice let out a long sigh, then turned to the other males currently in the room. “Vince, Roy, you two want to pop open the door and drag him out?”
“You say that like he won’t put up much of a fight,” Roy pointed out. “Not that I mind a good row, but I’d hate to get blood on my outfit.” Roy’s “outfit” consisted of a pair of red shorts that ran down to his knees, soft-soled shoes, a red silk robe across his back, and a set of boxing gloves tied together and hung around his neck. It was as much of a compromise as Hershel had been able to strike with his brother, in that, at least this way, Roy’s shirtlessness seemed to be part of a genuine costume effort, and when Hershel took over, he could close the robe.
“Don’t feel silly, Chad,” Vince encouraged him. He tugged on the red-and-yellow striped poofball hat that hung to his ears, effectively concealing his silver hair. “I let Alex coordinate our costumes, and I don’t even know who I am.”
“For the love of . . . how many times do I have to tell you this? You’re Jayne, I’m Mal, and Will is Wash,” Alex grumbled. He wore a striking ensemble himself, chocolate-colored coat hanging to his calves and a genuine replica pistol strapped to his side.
“I don’t know what that means,” Vince replied.
“Just tell people you’re a browncoat,” Will instructed.
“No, Jayne wasn’t part of the . . . screw it, sure, why not?” Alex threw up his hands, abandoning all hope of educating his pop-culture-deficient friend.
“Chad, it can’t be all bad. I took a risk letting Alice choose my costume, and while it’s a little more than I’d have picked out, it still looks nice.” Mary’s words were gentle and reassuring. The small brunette was clad in tan slacks that hugged her legs, a period blouse dipping just a bit below the neck, and a large, voluminous red cloak. Even without the picnic basket, she was clearly meant to be a modest, yet sexy, Red Riding Hood.
“’More’ is not my concern,” Chad mumbled.
“Well, you need to get over your concerns soon,” Alice informed him. “We’re meeting Thomas and Camille’s bunch in half an hour, and if I’m not there, they won’t let them into the area I reserved. How about we be fair and leave it to a group vote? Come out, and let the room decide if Angela has asked you to wear a bad costume. If they say yes, I’m sure we have an old spare we can lend you. If not, you deal with it, and we get moving. Fair?”
There was a moment of silence as Chad contemplated his options, then the door to the boys’ lounge slowly opened, and Chad stepped out.
The room was suddenly filled with gasps, blushing cheeks, suppressed snickers, and one piercing wolf whistle. The latter was done by Angela, who immediately stepped forward to admire her handiwork.
“Chad, um, I thought you were going to be a robot,” Mary said, pointedly angling her gaze directly at his eyes.
“A robot? Where’d you get that idea?” Angela interrupted.
“You said metallic, shiny, and perfect for me. I made assumptions,” Chad explained.
“I kept my word, didn’t I? They are shiny and metallic. And the costume is perfect for you. I mean, you’re a blond man in superhumanly good shape. Rocky seemed like a good fit.”
“I’ve seen Rocky around ten times,” Roy said. “And at no point does he wear a set of skintight gold shorts.”
“Wrong Rocky,” Alex corrected. “Check Hershel’s memories. Angela is talking about Rocky from the Rocky Horror Picture Show. Which, if I were to take a stab in the dark, would mean she’s dressed as Janet.”
“Give the nerd a prize,” Angela declared, letting her robe fall to the floor. Underneath, she was wearing a white bra and a skirt slip that ended in a torn, misshapen line well above her knees. “See Chad, I got us a couple’s costume. Aren’t I just the sweetest?”
“It occurs to me that you are still wearing a considerable amount more than me,” Chad pointed out.
“Oh? Did you want me to even that out?” Her hands moved lightly to her toned back, where she hooked a thumb under the catch of her bra.
“No! No, you do not need to expose yourself,” Chad snapped quickly.
“So, you’ll wear the costume without complaining?”
“I never said that.”
“Then you’re going to change? After I went to all the trouble of picking these out just for us, so anyone who looked would know we’re together, you’re going to just wear some other costume and leave me looking silly?”
“I . . . no, I will not. Let’s go to the party. As is.”
Angela threw back her head and let out a slight peal of mirth. “Oh Chad, you’re just too much fun. Once we’re in the car, you can put on your real shorts. You’ll still be Rocky, but this pair will leave a lot more to the imagination.”
“I’m confused,” Chad said.
“I just wanted to see if you’d actually wear that for me,” Angela explained, moving in close and giving him a small, lingering kiss on the cheek. “Now that I know, there’s no way I’m letting you out of the house in those things. I’d be batting other women away all night, and that’s just not my idea of how to have a good time.”
“Dang,” Roy said, watching the ordeal unfold before him. “That has got to be, mothers excluded, the most downright terrifying woman I’ve ever met.”
“Yes, she is,” Chad agreed. Despite the seriousness of his words, he returned Angela’s kiss, and when they were finally done, the night was able to commence.
84.
The club Alice had chosen, Dashabout, was higher scale than many of the dives they’d visited, or, in a few cases, were working at. It was frequented not just by lowly college students out to score cheap drinks and get laid, but also by an older, more sophisticated crowd of graduates . . . who were looking to score cheap drinks and get laid. The fake IDs Nick had provided the previous year came in handy, as the bouncers actually looked at the identification presented to them, rather than merely making sure it was plastic and rectangular. Few in the group needed to use the fakes though, since the majority of them had crossed that mythical threshold into the age of twenty-one.
As the Melbrook group entered, they were greeted by a young brunette woman with a cheerful grin. She was dressed as a fairy princess, the tiara and wings giving away her costume. After a quick chat with Alice, and a few last minute forms being signed, she ushered them through the club to their area. It was an expansive space, done up in steel and mirrors to such an extent that one could scarcely glance in any direction without encountering a reflection of themselves. Already, the bar area swelled with patrons clamoring to be served, so they could court a fresh buzz before the remainder of the intoxication from their pre-gaming wore off. Th
e dance floor was less cluttered, despite the subtle thump of bass and the swirl of multi-colored lights enticing people to come gyrate. Most were either downing the liquid courage that dancing would require, or didn’t want to sweat and grind through their costumes just yet.
The fairy princess showed them up a small section of stairs to an elevated platform. On it were several couches, some plush chairs, and tables centrally located near every seat. The elevation provided them a view of the still sparse dance floor, as well as a good line of sight on the door. This prime location was not a coincidence; Alice the Party-planner had known they’d have lots of people filtering in and wanted to be able to spot them upon entrance.
“All right everyone, here’s the deal.” Alice made her announcement at the center of the platform, drawing their attention before they could even sit down. “There will be a pair of servers making rounds through the VIP sections, so if you don’t want to deal with the bar, you don’t have to. That said, they’re going to be busy tonight, meaning you may want to open a tab at the bar and start doing some charming and tipping if you’re a heavy drinker.”
“Warning appreciated,” Roy said.
“No problem. Now, the rest of our friends should get shown here by Bree—that’s the private host who was dressed like a fairy. Again, she’s going to be pretty swamped since its Halloween, and they may not even know to ask her where we are. That means keep an eye out if at all possible; we don’t want anyone to feel ditched. Alex, I’m counting on you to catch the stragglers everyone else misses.”
“Can do,” Alex replied. “At least, until after the first few rounds. Then things get a bit muggy.”
“Then please pace yourself.” Alice paused, mentally ticking off points on her hand. “Okay, I think that’s everything you need to know. Obviously, go forth and have fun, and don’t worry about leaving your purses or coats unattended. No one who isn't vetted by Bree or escorted by us is getting up here, so valuables are safe. Part of why I picked this place was their great security.”
It struck Angela that her fellow blonde bombshell had gone a bit overboard on sectioning them off and setting up a safe perimeter. She noticed everyone else going along with it, however, so she chose not to broach the subject. Chad had told her this group was chaotic; maybe they’d had bad experiences with clubbing. Or maybe being outed as Powereds had left them with a touch of paranoia. Either way, she was grateful not to have to worry about the little details, so maybe Alice hadn’t gone that far overboard, after all.
“That’s everything, so you’re all dismissed.” Alice clapped her hands together and smiled at the group. “And let’s have ourselves a Happy Halloween, for a change.”
“I think, with all you’ve done, Alice, there’s no way we can’t,” Vince told her. “Really, thank you. This must have been a lot of work.”
“More than I expected, but well worth every bit,” Alice said. “We’re long overdue for a nice, fun, and, most importantly, peaceful evening.
* * *
“It is too a costume.” Eliza stuck her hands on her hips and stuck out her tongue, as if her tone weren’t quite defiant enough.
“It’s a three-dollar cat mask,” Nicholas rebutted, his own outfit far more intricate. Much of Nick’s freshman year gunslinger costume had been appropriated to the task. Colors had been changed, cuts retailored, and most importantly, a black mask had been added to his eyes, creating the image of a passable, if not terribly creative, Lone Ranger costume.
“And all you said was that we had to wear masks,” Eliza shot back. “Which Jerome didn’t even do!”
Jerome sat on Nicholas’s couch, reading a small book while the other two bickered. It was true that he hadn’t worn a mask, but he had certainly rendered himself unrecognizable. His makeup was Hollywood grade, tinting his skin the color of recently dead flesh, and the puckered scars that ran all the way from his face to his neck bolts were sickeningly realistic.
“I said we had to be able to hide our faces,” Nicholas clarified. “If things don’t go well, and Mary gives us the boot, at least you two will still be unknowns to the group.”
“So, why are you hiding your face? They’ll know you regardless.”
“Because it seems more prudent to tell them of my return in a controlled situation, where they are appropriately braced, rather than letting them dissolve into chaotic emotion by spotting me walking through the door. Now, this is a high-end club, so people there will have taken their outfits seriously. You need to blend in, and that means showing up in something more elaborate than a cat mask, jeans, and a t-shirt!” Somewhere in the deep recesses of Nicholas’s mind—in a place he couldn’t quite touch anymore—he realized this argument felt exhaustingly familiar.
“Nicholas is right,” Jerome chipped in from the couch. “We need to blend.”
“Fine, what if I change to black jeans and a slinky black top? Then I’m a sexy black cat. I don’t think anyone will say boo to that outfit.” Eliza smirked at her own Halloween humor, a gesture that left Nicholas all the more annoyed.
“That will have to do.” Nicholas checked his watch, making sure they were still on schedule. “But hurry. I detest arriving after the optimum hour.”
“Yeah yeah. You and your showmanship.” Eliza opened the front door and headed out into the cool night. She would change quickly, just not as quickly as Nicholas wanted. It was important to manage expectations, after all.
85.
Within an hour of the Melbrook group’s arrival, most of their friends had shown up and been led to the seating area. Jill, Sasha, and Selena hadn’t hung around for long, staying only long enough to drop off purses, say some hellos, and then head out into the thick of the party. Mary noticed that Selena and Alex managed to chat cordially for a bit before the other two dragged her into action—a sight that put her somewhat more at ease. After the roughness of Alex and Selena’s breakup, it had seemed like they’d never be capable of coexisting around one another. Time had, thankfully, begun healing their wounds.
Camille had come with Thomas and Violet, who were dressed as a fighter pilot and a sexy ladybug, respectively. Neither would admit it, but with Stella gone, they hadn’t quite been able to muster up the same gumption for Halloween costume-shopping as before. She hadn’t been huge on the holiday either, but their three-way grumbling had been something of a tradition. Now, without her, faux disinterest in the holiday had transformed into the genuine article.
Camille had actually put a bit more thought into her costume than in years previous. Whether it was the influence of Alice’s tutorials, or merely the breaking out of her shell, she had decided to put on a get-up that would actually invite a little attention. With her now shorter hair gelled and spiked, she wore a grungy outfit that was illuminated at various points by neon tubes sewn into the fabric. Accessories included a pair of goggles resting on her forehead and thick boots that added a few inches to her height, not to mention an endless variety of wrist bangles. She’d gotten Will’s help for the effects, but the construction had been all her. It all worked to make the small healer into a tough cyber-punk, a costume Alex gave her endless compliments on.
As the rest filtered in, they followed a similar pattern. There would be greetings, Alice would give them the low-down, they’d thank her for setting things up, and then most of them would ogle Chad in a mixture of shock and interest once they caught sight of his costume. Some were told that the earlier version was far worse, which spurred terror in some and curiosity in others. Once that was out of the way, they would disseminate to their respective locations. Some went to mingle at the bar, others were set on dancing, but the majority took the time to appreciate the relatively tranquil space they’d been provided.
It was while sitting peacefully that Camille noticed Alex, still wearing the large brown coat that had to be too warm in the heated club atmosphere, jerk up from his seat like he’d sat on a needle. His eyes darted about furiously, an expression of confusion, then concern, flashing across his
face. Before anyone noticed, Mary was there, at his side. The two said nothing, which confused Camille only until she realized a pair of telepaths didn’t need words to have a conversation. Lack of speech didn’t keep the expressions off their faces, though, at least not entirely. Alex still looked confused, but his face was moving more and more in the direction of anger. Mary almost kept her usual calm facade, but every now and then, she’d show a twitch of nervousness. Finally, after several moments of standing in seeming silence, Alex gave a small, begrudging nod, and then walked away to sit with Vince and Will. Mary surprised Camille. Instead of returning to her seat, she walked over to the couch where her fellow short woman was watching and plopped down next to her.
“I know you’re wondering what that was all about.”
“A little bit, yeah,” Camille admitted. “Why was Alex in such a tizzy?”
“Because I’m an idiot.” Mary leaned her head back, resting it against the black leather seat. The red hood pulled away slightly, revealing the tight braid she’d worn for her costume. It conjured up a momentary, unexpected pang of loss in Camille’s heart. That hairstyle would forever be something she associated with her former steel-shifting friend.
“I forgot about Alex,” Mary continued. “He’s just so . . . not like me and the professor that I honestly forgot how good he was at recognizing people. I’m trying to do something a little risky tonight, something I wanted to control every aspect of. Alex has graciously agreed to go along with it, for now. Hopefully it all works out.”
“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” Camille said. She patted her friend on the leg anyway, if for no other reason than Mary seemed like she needed a bit of reassurance.
“So I’m aware. Just needed to vent a bit to someone, and you already noticed our talk, so I had to give you an explanation anyway.”
“It must be hard, not having Hershel around when you really need someone.”