Page 133 of Smut

“And then you wouldn’t let him touch that mug that says ‘seductively deductive.’”

“That’s enough, Kevin.”

He just keeps smiling, turning his attention to me. “Hey, guess what day it is?”

I frown. “Sunday.”

“No, why I’m dressed like this.” He pats his armor.

“Still figured it was just a Sunday.”

Angelica looks at me. “I’m taking him to Beacon Hill Park to do his…what is it again? Comic con?”

“LAIRE,” Kevin says. He frowns dramatically at me. “Did you forget, Amanda?”

Oh shit. The fucking LARPing shit.

“Blake is doing it with you, right?” I ask him.

“Yeah, he’s meeting me there in a few hours,” he says. “But you also promised.”

I wince, giving Angelica a look. “Well, the thing is…”

They both stare at me. Obviously Blake hasn’t told them anything.

I sigh. I really, really don’t want to go there dressed as Phoenix from X-Men and potentially be shunned by Blake. But I’m not sure I have a choice. “Do you mind if I bring my friend?” I ask him. “She’s really good at fantasy makeup.”

“Sure!” Kevin says. He stabs his staff into the ground, the flag waving. “Come on, mother dear, our kingdom awaits.” He then turns around and starts strutting away.

“Thank you for doing this,” Angelica says to me. “It will be really good for Kevin. And for Blake.” With that, she turns around and trots after her little king.

Hmmm. Blake. Maybe she knows something after all.

There’s no time to think about it though. I continue on my run all the way to a costume shop just outside of downtown where I manage to snag a Phoenix costume that’s straight from a cosplay sex catalog. Then I run back home and break the news to Ana.

“I’ll bring the wine,” she says excitedly.

Two hours later, Ana and I descend on a scene of utter pandemonium. All of Beacon Hill Park is awash with fellow freaks and geeks from all walks of life, people of all ages and genders. Everyone seems to be split into groups, battling each other with weapons and shields, the air filled with cries and the dull thud of foam against foam. There’s even a beer garden in the distance and a few food trucks that I have no doubt are serving up Game of Thrones style meals. Hopefully not Arya’s revenge pie.

My Phoenix costume makes me look slightly out of place—there seem to be a lot of people here dressed up as their own creations, and barely any of the women are dressed in such a form-fitting manner. Ana blends in a little more, wearing a full-length red and white Estonian folk costume she pulled from her closet, albeit with a makeup case in one hand and a bottle of opened wine in the other.

“Hello, fair maidens.” Two men are walking toward us, one round like a potato and dressed like a medieval squire, the other looking like Zaphod Beeblebrox from Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.

“I am Randy the Retiree,” the potato man says. He gestures to his friend. “And this is?—”

“Zaphod Beeblebrox,” I fill in.

“No,” Zaphod says, frowning, tossing his straggly blonde hair over his shoulder. “I am Darth Star Lord from the planet Clorox, guardian of the galaxy.”

I cock my head. “I think you’re getting a bunch of things confused.”

“We are from the Senate of Calgon,” Randy the Retiree says and gestures to the field with his arm. “We put on this affair for many to enjoy. All are welcome. Especially the fair ladies.”

“I brought makeup and wine,” Ana says with a wide smile, totally in her element.

“Very good,” Randy the Retiree says. “Your services are needed here.” He puts his arm around her and leads her away.

Zaphod peers at me. “And what is your warrior name?”

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