Page 132 of Victorious

He blamed Serena’s illusions. The fresh, but fleeting glimpse of his old friend—back when they were friends—was lodged, splinter-like, beneath his skin. He pushed the memory away as he reached a split. A crossroads, only instead of four directions, there were three, the paths curling out of sight. It would have been easier if the park had been laid out with any kind of reason, but Bethany Adventure Land appeared to have chosen a more chaotic energy. Wild, unruly, overgrown. Eli might have gotten lost, if not for the map on his comm, which showed him his position relative to the Clarke sisters, the distance slowly shrinking.

“Pick up the pace,” muttered Noah over the comm, but Eli moved with measured steps, knowing that as he neared the building at the park’s center, it was only a matter of time before he met the outer limits of Serena’s power and reality gave way again.

This time, he told himself, he would be ready.

Now that he knew what to expect.

With any luck, there would be a warning of some kind.

Some change in temperature, or at the very least, a shimmer, or—

He was standing at the door.

Eli didn’t remember knocking, but his hand was dropping back to his side in a way that suggested he had, and before he could figure out what felt so strange, the door was swinging open, and there she was.

Angie, strawberry curls lifting off her cheeks. “Hey, you,” she said with a smile.

“Oh good,” said Victor, leaning in the kitchen doorway, “you’re finally here.”

The sight of them together knocked him askew. Less jealousy than vertigo, a sudden missed step on imaginary stairs. Eli steadied himself in the doorframe.

“Maybe now she’ll show us,” added Victor.

Eli blinked and the feeling dissipated. “Show us what?” he asked, stepping into the apartment. Angie flashed a wicked grin.

“Come on,” she said, catching his wrist and dragging him down the hall. He glanced back at Victor, who slid into their wake. Eli arched a brow and Victor shrugged, the two of them keeping up a silent dialogue as Angie led the way into her room. She didn’t turn the lights on, just flopped down onto the bed and patted the comforter.

Eli sat beside her.

Victor hovered, glancing toward the door like a dog about to bolt.

“You too,” she said, reaching for his wrist. He could have evaded her, but he didn’t. Instead, he sighed and let himself be caught, then tugged down, onto her other side. And then, by some unspoken agreement, the three of them laid back, their heads together and their bodies side by side.

“Ready?” Angie reached over her head, and flicked a switch, and faint light danced across the ceiling. A projection, Eli realized, the night sky rendered in ghostly auras.

“Isn’t it magical?” she breathed. Her curls tickled Eli’s cheek. Her hand found his, fingers twining. Her weight shifted, and he knew her other hand was closing over Victor’s.

“My boys,” she said, a smile on her lips.

One of them produced a joint.

Eli wasn’t sure who. It didn’t matter. One moment it wasn’t there, and the next, Angie was sighing smoke into the air over their heads, and offering the joint to Eli, who took it, even though he’d never been a fan of drugs, didn’t like to lose control. It was hard enough to keep up appearances, to smile and charm, blend in and be normal.

But that was out there, in the world.

In here, with them, things felt safer.

Eli drew the smoke into his lungs, and felt a pleasant buzzing in his heart, his head, his lungs. Like a hand smoothing rumpled sheets.

They lay there, passing the joint back and forth, the window open, and the smoke catching the light of the projector, curling in its path.

Down the hall, the oven timer dinged, and Angie surged back to her feet.

A body in motion, thought Eli, at the same moment Victor murmured, “First law.”

Eli turned his head to look at him.

Victor didn’t look relaxed—he never did, always carrying a constant, coiled tension—but he seemed comfortable, staring up at the ceiling, the joint resting between his lips. He exhaled, and a pale halo of smoke curled above his head before rising toward the stars.