Page 8 of The Penalty

I make a run for it, jumping onto the bed with a soft bounce and a giggle.

Spending the summer on my best behavior left me drained. I’m going to enjoy the fuck out of myself anonymously this weekend before I head off to my new school. Beau will do his best to keep his eye out for me. The way he acts, you’d think he was born two years earlier not two minutes. Nope. But he’s so busy with school and hockey, and we’re living in different houses, so it shouldn’t cramp my style too much.

If I thought the hotel lobby was a fun place yesterday, today it’s like an explosion of beautiful chaos. Zombies are mingling with vampire hunters. Anime characters huddle in a group around a full-blown transformer with working mechanical parts built into the suit. The colors, sound, and energy are electric. I’m with my people for the first time all summer.

The energy of all these passionate, creative types fills me up, replenishing my soul. My fingers are twitching to work on my own graphic novel. I brought the usual assortment of notebooks, sketchbooks, and my tablet, but I don’t expect to use them much over the weekend. I’ll be too busy absorbing all the sights and sounds, maybe making a new friend or two.

I follow the crush of people down the tunnel to join the registration line. The wait is going to fly by. I stretch my neck out, standing on my tiptoes, searching for my friend Tess. She said she’d meet me in line at nine, and I know she’s planning on dressing up as Storm. There are a handful of heads with long white hair, but not hers.

It is hard to see over the massive guy standing in front of me. He makes a better wall than the temporary panels dividing the conference area into sections. His black tee clings to unreal back muscles, and I’m tempted to reach out to trace a finger around the ridges of his delicious, muscled arms. But that would be rude, so I resist the urge. An assortment of tattoos sneaks out below the short sleeves, and a shiver clenches my gut at the same time my phone has the audacity to ring in my pocket. Should have muted it.

At least I sewed pockets into the tight bodysuit of my costume, so it’s accessible. I drop my eyes to my knee-length black boots as I answer the call.

“Cece. I’m glad you answered. I’m so sorry, but I have to cancel. I’m in the hospital. It’s a nightmare. I’m so pissed I’m going to miss this weekend.”

My stomach flips over. “Tess, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“Oh, I’m fine. You know I was at the regional finals this week?”

“Yes.”

“Welp. I landed badly, and my leg is a mess. Now I’ve got to have surgery. Ugh, I’m so mad I’m going tomiss the con.”

“What? I’m so sorry.” Tess is a gymnast. She competes at a high level, but she sounds more upset she’s missing the expo than the fact her season is likely over.

“It’s fine. Hurt like a beast, but I’ll recover. It doesn’t really matter.”

Disappointment eats away at the high of excitement I’ve been riding. She was one of the first people I met when I started dabbling in online fan groups and we’ve been tight ever since. But we’ve only gotten to meet in person a few times since she lives on the other side of the country. “You look after yourself.”

Her voice is way too chipper for someone with a broken leg. “I’ll be fine. But I’m going to need you to do something for me.”

“What’s that?”

“Have twice as much fun. And send me pics. Maybe bang a hot dude. Just make sure he takes his mask off first. Remember Iron Man? Ugh.”

I laugh. I do. She met up with some guy dressed as Iron Man two years ago. It was an unpleasant surprise when she brought him back to our hotel room and he took off his mask to reveal a sweaty, bald dude twenty years older than us.

“Will do. And don’t worry. I’ll never forget. He’s imprinted on my brain for all eternity, thanks to you.”

There’s a beeping sound and a voice in the background. “Kay. I gotta go. My doctor’s here. Talk soon.”

“Bye.” I click off the phone. While it’s disappointing Tess won’t be here, I’m going to take her advice and have enough fun forboth of us.

Someone shoves me from behind as I’m sliding my phone back in my pocket. I stumble forward, clipping the brick wall of a guy waiting in front of me. I step past him, trying to regain my balance.

Two warm, calloused hands close around my biceps as I’m heading toward a treacherous sea of feet.

“I’m so sorry,” I apologize, looking up at the guy who’s gotta be a full foot taller than me.

“Not your fault.”

His brow is pinched with anger, and I’m about to shy away from his glare when I realize it’s not directed at me. He’s focused on the pair of guys behind me still goofing around and body checking each other, but they freeze mid headlock, heads tilting up to take him in.

“Watch it.”

“Sorry, man.” The shorter one drops his gaze, shuffling his feet.

“Just be careful.” He nods at them, turning back to me.

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