Page 90 of Striking Range

“One cup for me, please,” I request sweetly.

“One cup coming up,” he mutters.

I watch him scoop out a generous amount of the drink, his lips tilted into a frown. I’m unsure what he’s so upset about, but I can tell he’s no longer in a partying mood.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Nothing. Just… why didn’t you want to dance with me?”

Oh. That is what’s getting to him.

“Well, dancing with Kelly is safer,” I tell him. “With all of these people around, I mean.”

A firm expression coats his features, and he sets the cup before me with a heavy thunk. “Safer, huh? Got it.”

“Are you mad?”

“Nope. I’m perfectly fine, thank you.” But as he says it, he turns away from me, washing his hands in the sink so that I cannot read his expression. “Alright. I’m going to hang out with Henry.”

And then he’s gone. I have a very distinct feeling Everett is mad, but I don’t understand—I’m keeping this secret because he needs it kept, so why am I the bad guy here?!

Not that I can ask him about it now. With all of these people around, I can’t really do anything. So, instead of confronting him, I drink.

I drink, and I drink, and I drink.

By the time I return to the makeshift dance floor, the room is starting to swim. My fingers are tingling, and my skin feels hot, but my mood is lifting.

As Kelly dances with one of her girlfriends, I shoulder my way in, watching her face light up.

“Sky!” she cheers. “You look like you’ve caught up on the drinks!”

I chuckle, gripping her hand in mine as we hop around. “I did.”

“Aw, are you a dog? You look so cute!” Kelly’s friend coos.

I give her a smile, attempting not to cringe because I’m not a dog; I’m a puppy. There is a big difference.

But instead of pointing that out, I say, “Thanks. I like the cheerleader uniform.”

All around me are costumed college students. Mummies, zombies, and vampires. Werewolves are scattered about, and there is no shortage of intentionally slutty characters.

I’m pretty sure I saw a college girl take on the Pope earlier.

It’s kind of a trip, being this fucked up and seeing all the various costumes. It feels like I’m in a fantasy novel that swallowed a horror film. As I spin, stage makeup passes by in a blur, my eyes unable to focus on any one person.

I feel amazing. In this moment, I am not focused on my lack of physical contact with Everett or his irrational anger. All I can comprehend is how beautiful my life is now, and how that little version of myself that sits inside my soul, angry and malicious, has not seen the light of day in weeks.

How can I be angry or vicious when every moment that I breathe is so full of love?

“Did you upset Ev?” Kelly suddenly asks, and I stop spinning, stumbling as I search for her face.

She steadies me as I reply, “Did I?”

“I don’t know, but he’s been glaring at us for five minutes now.”

I’m looking around the room wildly, attempting to spot him and failing miserably. Finally, Kelly grabs my shoulders and turns me, pointing straight ahead.

And there Everett stands, so beautifully illuminated by the various string lights hanging above.