Page 46 of For the Fans
Jesus Christ…I blink at him in silence for a few seconds before finishing my beer.
“Hey! Look who showed up!”
The familiar voice grates on my nerves as it always does, and I close my eyes for a moment.This was clearly a bad idea.
Avi stomps over to me, plucking the material of my shirt between his fingers. I jerk away from him.
“Billy Zabka?” He cocks a brow, grinning while looking me over. “Ahh, CobraKy! That’s clever.”
“Yea, and who are you?” I take in his hair tied back, and the slightly oversized suit with blood on the shirt, then nod in Micah’s direction. “The guy sitting next to him who couldn’t find a tailor?”
Micah snorts while Avi purses his lips. “Uh, no. I’m Vincent Vega.” My eyebrow cocks, and he gives me a look like I’m an idiot. “John Travolta fromPulp Fiction.”
“I know who Vincent Vega is,” I mutter, choosing not to encourage him by mentioning thatPulp Fictionjust so happens to be one of my favorite movies ever.
“Best fictional Vega.” He grins with pride.
“I guess… if you consider a heroin junkie who blows people’s brains out by accident thebest,” Micah scoffs, and I can’t help but chuckle.
“It was the nineties.” Avi shrugs, his head swinging left and right. “Plus, my Mia Wallace is around here somewhere…” He spots someone across the room and points. “Ah, there she is.”
I follow his eye line to where his friend Zeb is wearing a black bob wig and a large white dress shirt with makeup running down his face and a needle sticking out of his chest.
“Hey, Mia! That’s not coke, ya know!” Avi shouts, and Zeb turns around, drawing a square in the air with his fingers.
Avi bursts out laughing.God, what a dork.
“I’m surprised to see you here, superstar,” Avi says to me, grabbing a couple of solo cups and pouring liquor into them. “I definitely didn’t think you’d show.”
“I’m just here for the booze.” I reach into the cooler for another beer.
“Well, in that spirit…” He hands me one of the cups, then lifts the other. “Happy fucking Halloween.”
“Mhm.” I whip back the shot of whatever he just poured, not giving a single fuck what it is.Could be arsenic for all I care.
As soon as I slap the cup down on the counter, he’s refilling it. My brows zip together, wondering why he’s plying me with alcohol, but I don’t bother to ask. I just want to get drunk enough to forget that I’m at a party with him onpurpose.
I take the second shot, chasing it with a third beer while people shout and laugh, music thumping around us. There are people grinding together, making out, doing drugs; girlsandguys wearing some of the skimpiest costumes I’ve ever seen, prancing around the place without a care in the world.
It’s while I’m observing all of these surroundings that the host of the party herself saunters over to us. And I have to do a double-take.
Frankie’s costume isinsane. She’s half-devil, half-angel, with one side of her body in white, gold, and light sparkles, and the other side in red and black. She has an angel wing sprouting from her back on the right, and a dark, ghoulish-looking one of the left. I can’t believe how elaborate the costume is. The makeup is one thing, but she even has half of a halo above her head on the right side, half of a golden bra-type thing, while her left breast is covered only by a pasty in the shape of a pentagram.
“Hello, monsters.” She smirks, sliding her arm around Avi’s waist as she peers up at me.
Avi gives her an affectionate look, and for a moment, I wonder to myself if they’re hooking up. He’s been friends with her for years, and they’ve always been very close. But I dispel the thought, because Idon’t carewho he hooks up with, picking up my cup and tossing it back again with a wince.
“So lovely of you to join us, Kyran,” Frankie says, seductively. Or maybe I’m just getting a buzz on already, who knows. “We don’t see enough of you, ya know?”
Avi clears his throat, and my increasingly fuzzy gaze flits between the two of them.
“You’d probably see more of me if you didn’t hang out with him so much.” I lean in closer to her, nodding my head in Avi’s direction.
“He’s such a darling, isn’t he?” Avi rolls his eyes, reaching into his pocket and stuffing a joint between his lips.
He lights it and takes a long drag, puffing out a cloud of pungent smoke into the air before handing it to Frankie. She does the same, vibrant eyes stuck on mine.
“You like the digs?” she asks me.
