Page 93 of Fairies Never Fall

“Um, did you want to talk about something?”

He cracks the top open and takes a long drink. “Yeah. I went to see a few of the places you showed me. You could literally pick any of them — they’re all nice as fuck. One of them had adoorman. And a special door for food delivery guys. I guess you’rerichrich, huh?”

“Maybe by human standards,” I defer.

“Right.” Felix makes a face. “You could make my mom’s mortgage payments twice over with that kind of cash flow. Ezra’s not gonna be comfortable letting you buy him a place like that. You need to talk to him first.”

I bite my lip. “I don’t know.”

“I do. I know him, and he won’t even letmepitch in for rent. What has he told you about his past?” Felix’s gaze is shrewd.

“He told me about the man. Jasper.”

Surprise flashes in his eyes. “Then I shouldn’t have to explain why he doesn’t ever want to rely on anyone.”

“It’s not for him,” I blurt, unable to keep up the charade. “It’s for you.”

Felix chokes. “What?”

“The home is for you. I wanted you to pick the one you like most. Ezra needs you to stay in Greenriver — he’s so much happier with you here. He smiles every time he talks about you. He loves you like a brother.” I grab his hand. “Let me do this. Please.”

“You —” Felix gapes at me. His eyebrows come down abruptly and a furious look crosses his face, and my heart sinks. He yanks his hand free. “You — youentitledfucker. You don’t know anything about me, or my reasons for staying away fromthis place. You think you can just throw money at your problems to fix them, huh?”

“It’s not like that! I just… need him to be happy,” I protest, but I know it’s not enough, and my harebrained scheme is blowing up in my face.

“Thenmake himhappy,” Felix snaps. He turns on his heel and stomps back to the pavilion.

33

EZRA

Things are still a little weird between Fitzie and I, but I’m taking it as a win that he agreed to come to the festival in the first place. Of course, I’m pretty sure it’s only cause his new best friend Orion is gonna be there. He just needs time to get used to it all — monsters in general, and Lysander in specific. I want him to be part of this world, to understand how special it is.

By the time the barbecue gets demolished and the monster kids are running around on a sugar craze from the sweets Larch got catered — which is exactly as wild as it sounds — Fitzie’s even unwound enough to critique the pastries from the dessert tent. I tune out in the middle of it to find Lysander gone, and I grab my plate as an excuse to search him out.

I spot him at the gazebo, staring out over the lake. The wind pulls his long, loose hair all over the place as he leans over the rail. All he needs is a crown to complete the whole dramatic ‘royal family in exile’ look.

“See any Ogopogos?” I joke, stepping up beside him.

He turns, a faint furrow between his brows. “Ogo-whats?”

“Never mind.” I should ask Orion if Bigfoot is real one day. “You ready for the race?”

“Of course.” He smiles, but I read hesitation underneath.

He must be nervous about doing it in front of so many people. “Lemon bar for good luck? Though I’ll warn you, according to Fitzie they’re only in the sixtieth percentile of zestiness.”

“Why didn’t you say so?” Lysander plucks it out of my hand, his eyes lighting up. “We need all the luck we can get.“

“And all the desserts.”

He daintily bites the huge bar in half, and when the whole thing is gone he pats icing sugar off his lips. “These are in the eightieth percentile atleast.”

I swoop in. Afterward, I can only agree — my lips are feeling the zest.

After an announcement from Syril and a reminder of the rules we drag our boats to the edge of the water. Every boat has been decked out by excited monster kiddos while we ate lunch, with the goal of making them as un-seaworthy as possible. Whichever clunky contraption reaches the island in the middle of the lake first and grabs the flag off the dock wins, but touching the decorations will get you disqualified.

Lysander climbs in gingerly and I push the boat into the water, holding the back end steady. He wobbles, sitting down with a quick huff and white-knuckling the bench.

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