Erin stops in the doorway to examine the splintered wood. It’s still in place, held there by the metal frame. She’s wrapped only in a towel and her hair is plastered to her head in long wheat-colored strands.
I just lay for a long moment, staring up at the ceiling. “I like Sawyer.”
“No shit, Sherlock.” She snorts and goes back to getting dressed for a class I’m one-hundred percent going to be late to now. “Took you long enough.”
I roll back over on my side and point a finger at her. “This doesn’t change anything,” I insist. “I don’t have time for anything serious. You heard Luiza. I can’t have anyone holding me back.”
Erin just turns her back to me, but I swear I can hear the smug smile in her voice.
“Whatever you say, Avery. Whatever you say.”
Halloween, apparently, is a decently big deal at Saint M. I guess a holiday celebrating monsters would be. While most of the teachers seem to be on high alert for any activity that turns out to be actual monster activity, a few, like Professor Waldman, chose to dress up along with the rest of us. Her harpy costume is so convincing during creature studies that I have to keep a close eye on her, just in case she turns out to be an actual harpy just pretending to be our professor instead of the other way around.
I’m not the most crafty, but thankfully Erin managed to put together some sort of costume for the two of us to look like brownies, little fairies from England that clean houses. I try to protest at first, but she tells me it’s better than nothing—and I reluctantly have to agree.
It isn’t until Erin and I are headed back down to the dining hall for a costume party that I spot Sawyer emerging from his dorm room in a brownie costume of his own. I have to stop and point between the two of them.
“How long has this been going on?” I ask, feigning betrayal.
Erin shrugs and helps Sawyer re-adjust the floppy hat on his head. It looks like it was made of a dishtowel.
“I didn’t think you’d be interested. You’re not exactly the crafty type.”
“And Sawyer is?”
“You’d be surprised,” Sawyer says, holding up his fingers. This time, instead of being stained with black ink, they’re stained with something reddish brown. “And Erin, thanks for the tea-staining tip. Now, if you have any tips for how to get it out of my skin … it would be much appreciated.”
The dining hall is full of people in costume when we walk in. It’s much busier than usual, but the distraction is welcome. Sawyer’s knuckles keep brushing mine, and it’s keeping me from thinking clearly. I know I told Erin I didn’t want anything to change, but I can’t shake the way my stomach keeps tying in knots at his touch.
The students don’t normally all come in at once, as dinner isn’t at a set time. This might be the first time that I’ve seen everyone, or at least nearly everyone, all together in one place.
I spot Luiza de la Cruz at the same moment she spots us. She’s wearing a crop top and a tight-fitting, slinky, dark green skirt that looks a little like snake scales as she walks our way. Her hair is hidden beneath a hat sprouting with foam snakes that bounce when she moves, giving the illusion of life. It’s actually a really good gorgon costume, and with another, very different pang—it reminds me of the photo of my parents that started it all.
“Why, hello there,” Luiza says in her throaty voice. “Do I see some little brownies, come to clean my house?”
“Do I see a snake where it doesn’t belong?” Erin says, saltily.
Sawyer and I both look at her in surprise. Luiza whistles. I like this new Erin.
“Our little Singer is feisty today,” Luiza purrs. She pulls part of the hat away from her face and smirks. “You’re still a mystery to me, Singer. I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since we met.”
This comment seems to return Erin to her normal self. Her whole face flushes red, and she looks away, mumbling incoherently. I step in front of her protectively.
“What’s up, Luiza?” I ask her.
“Just wanted to say hello. No need to be so defensive.” Her eyes flit from me, to Sawyer, to Erin. She twirls the wand of a matching green-scaled masquerade mask. “Enjoying the year so far? Doing well in your classes?”
“Doing just fine, thanks,” I say.
She looks over at Sawyer. “I don’t believe I’ve met your tallest brownie.”
“Sawyer, meet Luiza,” I say, not looking away from her. “Luiza, meet Sawyer.”
“Our Black-turned-brownie is so protective,” Luiza purrs. “I can see when I’m not wanted. Come see me sometime, Singer,” she adds, putting her mask back up to her face. “I’d love to have a little chat.”
And with that she turns and slinks away, hips swaying.
Erin grumbles and runs her fingers through her hair, leaving little wispy tendrils to fall over her forehead. “I don’t know what it is about her, but she just gets under my skin somehow. She saw me last night, when I went to go talk to—to Professor Helsing.”