Page 13 of Jinxes and Drumsticks

“Portentous?” I offer with a smile of my own.

His grin widens. “Yeah, actually. Great word.”

“Definitely a collegiate one.”

“There’s another good one,” he says.

“Those are the only two you get, I’m afraid. The rest of my vocabulary is obscure occult bullshit and memes,” I tell him.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” he shoots back. “It’s chilly out. Are you gonna be alright in what you’re wearing?”

I hold up one of my sweater paws and wiggle my fingers. “I have a sweater on,” I say.

“Yeah, and it’s full of holes. Actually, forget I asked. You’re getting a hoodie.”

I balk for a moment, thinking he’s going to give me one of his to wear. My heart races because... Well, listen. I’ve never been on a date before. Not a real one. The quintessential sharing-of-your-date’s-jacket is something I’ve pined over since I was fourteen.

Much to my dismay, Damien stops by a stack of boxes, gives my body a once over and then tears into one of the cardboard cubes before producing a brand new Portent hoodie. Extra-large.

“You prefer oversized, right?” he asks.

I do, but I also have to school my face so I don’t make it obvious I was really hoping to wear something that smells like him.

First the blood kink thing, now I’m mourning the loss of his pheromones. Gods, it is great to be so normal about an attractive man. I sure can’t wait for him to realize how fucking bizarre I am.

“What’s that face for?” he asks with a knowing smile.

“What face? There’s no face. I don’t have a face,” I say.

“You totally have a face,” he says.

I snatch the hoodie from him. “I do not have a face,” I insist, shoving my arms into the sleeves.

Ohhhh, it’s cozy.

“Whoa, this is so soft inside.”

“Right?” Damien says. “Oren’s got some sensory stuff with clothes, so he’s obnoxious about the quality of the merch. That one’s yours, so enjoy it.”

“Thanks,” I say.

“I’ll even pretend that you didn’t change the subject from the face. That you totally have.”

“I’m going to push you in front of the car when it gets here.”

He lets out another bright peal of laughter, pulling me closer to him. He pulls two cloth masks out of his pocket and hands me one. “Folks saw me kiss you earlier. Want to wear one until we’re out of the radius of scary fans?”

“Are your fans that scary?” I ask.

“Ehhh, we’ve had an incident or two,” he says. “Nothing major, but you know.”

“Sure,” I say. “Better safe than sorry, right?”

I hook the loops over my ears while he does the same. It’s a simple black mask, no print on it or anything. Once we’re outside, it’s only a few moments before the ride share pulls up. Damien gets the door for me first, then slides into the back seat with me. As the car drives off, Damien pulls off his mask, and I follow suit. He leans back in his seat, turning his torso toward me a little.

“Alright, food first, then what?” he asks. “What’s there to do for fun out here?”

“Honestly?” I say. “I’m not sure we have much at all to do out here that you would consider fun. There are some late-night shopping centers. We could go to the harbor, but it will be hard to see anything while it’s this dark...”