Page 237 of Overcast

Smoothing downthe satin-like material of the white dress Reagan bought me, I examine myself in the full-length mirror behind the door. The neckline plunges modestly down my tan chest, and the thin straps leave the dress open and airy for the hot summer temperature outside. The back is completely open for any breeze that might want to grace us with its presence, and the flowy fabric leaves plenty of space for my legs.

Except it’s white—at a BBQ.

One that Marty invited all of B723 to attend so I could meet them all. It’s like meeting another side of his family. People he’s always with and that know some of his quirks as I do, but it makes me nervous.

Being such a large part of his life, I want them to like me. Not having many friends or a family of my own, it’s important to me to be involved in Marty’s life and what he has.

If I can stop my heart from stampeding in my chest and me from sweating like a pig.

“You look beautiful,” Reagan coos softly from behind me, sitting on our bed. “I did a bomb ass job on your hair.

She did. My light blue locks, which are now more faded, are loosely curled and pulled back. The diamond studs complement the modest look I’m pulling off, and I denied the necklace she brought for me.

This was enough.

All I wanted to do was see Marty and stand at his side tonight.

“Ready to go eat and mingle?” Reagan asks, now at my side. I nod, letting her open the door and guide us outside to the backyard.

The moment she opens the backdoor of the kitchen, the mixture of voices fill the air mingled with music. Smoke rises in the air from the grill somewhere in the back, but it’s the decorations that get me to pause through the threshold.

A long table that could fit over a dozen people is covered in blue picnic tablecloths and white flowers. Lights hang carelessly from the house to rods that are sticking from the ground, making a not so perfect square along the backyard.

“I did it,” Reagan announces at my side. “I got bored.”

I let out a weak chuckle. “Wow, I guess so. It’s gorgeous.”

“Stormi!” Emmy’s voice sinks into our conversation, and I look over to see her floating over to us with her normal and broad smile. She’s in a pretty yellow sundress that goes to her mid-thigh and her blonde hair in a half ponytail. “I was wondering when you were going to come out here.”

“My fault,” Reagan voices. “I wanted to do her hair, and I got carried away. Hopefully, this next baby is a girl so I can leave her alone.”

“I didn’t mind,” I counter. “I’ve never been pampered before.”

“Don’t tell her that,” Emmy offers. “She lives yards away from your house.” She loops her arm in with mine. “I’m stealing her. I want her to meet Kyson.”

Reagan states that she’s going to go find her husband and demon child while I let Emmy take the wheel on where we’re going to go.

We stop at Mills and a man I’ve never seen before—Kyson I’m assuming—and Mills greets me with a smile.

“Damn, Cinderella,” he says with a cluck of his tongue. “I got to kiss you and everything.”

My blush is immediate, and so is my narrowed eyes as Emmy bristles next to me.

“Shut up, idiot,” she chides before motioning to the stranger with her hand. “Stormi, this is Kyson. Kyson, this is Marty’s better half.”

Kyson offers me his hand after putting his toothpick back into his mouth, quickly giving me a not so subtle look over.

I can’t help but do the same. He’s built like Mills, not as wide-shouldered as Marty but tall. His red locks are cut short along the sides and longer on the top. His facial hair is minimal, and he has kind golden eyes that nicely match the shade of his hair.

“We’ve kinda met before,” he conveys with a friendly and really cute smile—that’s his best feature. My brows furrow, but he continues for me, “I was—uh, the dude holding your head still when...Emric was…”

When Marty was waterboarding me the first night we met.

“I’ve heard a lot of good things about you.”

Right.

“I think you owe me a beer or something,” I answer, watching him nod once before shifting his weight uncomfortably.

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