Page 49 of Dating and Dragons

The comic fest is an all-day event, including panels of comic writers and illustrators, meet and greets, giveaways, and even a “draw-off,” where people are given a prompt and asked to draw the best cover they can in three minutes. I definitely won’t be doingthat,but we do sit in on the first panel. When we make it up to the signing table after, the gray-haired writer leans back, his mouth dropping open, and then points to us excitedly.

“Holy hell, are you Hank the Ranger?” He points to Sanjiv. “And Bobby, and Sheila, and even Presto! You’ve got the whole group!” He elbows the illustrator next to him, who is busy signing. “Did you see this?”

The illustrator hands the signed comic to the kid in his line and then glances up. “Goingrealold school, I see. I’m impressed.”

“This is one of my favorite cartoons—such good memories,” the writer says. “I love your attention to detail.” He points to Sloane’s unicorn.

“We play D&D, so it only seemed appropriate,” they explain.

“Are any of you comic fans or did you just come today to blow the others out of the water with your group costume?” the other man asks with a laugh.

“Mostly that last part, but we like comics well enough,” Sanjiv jokes.

“Better head to the back to get registered, then.”

We follow his advice, waiting in line to register for the costume contest and then having our picture taken. A panel of judges is going to compare all the photos before announcing the winners this afternoon. After that, we wander around. The store is larger than I was imagining, with multiple floors, and we quickly get separated. The boys elbow their way through the rows and rows of comics, while Sloane and Kashvi get caught up looking at their modest D&D novel selection.

Everywhere I go, customers stare at me. Lots of other people are in costume, but mostly they wear the standards—Spider-Man, Batman, a few Avengers, and plenty of Star Wars characters. And without the rest of my group around me, it’s probably not even clear that I’m wearing a costume since mine doesn’t have a cloak, wizard hat, or unicorn accompanying it.

The basement holds about five hundred Funko Pops, much to my delight. I’m so busy studying the selection that I don’t notice someone come into my peripheral view until it’s too late.

“That’s quite the outfit.”

My blood turns to ice. Paige stands to my left, her head cocked and her eyes narrowed. I can’t breathe, but I also can’t stop myself from turning to face her. I haven’t seen her since the last day before Christmas break, when she and Makayla breezed past me in the hall of my old high school like I didn’t even exist.

She looksjustthe same. I recognize her leggings from our annual back-to-school shopping trip. She’d been worried they weren’t flattering, and I’d been quick to argue they made her butt look great. Her blond hair is pulled into the same ponytail, her nails are long and bright, and her earrings are the ones she always wears—tiny hearts given to her by her grandfather before he passed away. And how could I not recognize the hoodie she’s wearing?

It’s Caden’s.

I force air into my lungs and keep my eyes on her, even though I’m desperate to spin around in case Caden is steps from me. I don’t want Paige to realize how freaked out I am to see her.

“It’s part of a group costume,” I explain.

My words come out defensive and her lips lift in a little smirk. “What kind of group has you wearing a skirt like that?”

“My new D&D group—we’re going as classic D&D characters.”

She laughs humorlessly. “You’ve already infiltrated a new group?”

“I haven’t infiltrated anything. A friend invited me to be part of an extremely fun livestream group, and they’ve all been really welcoming.”

“Oh, so you haven’t started ripping them apart, then? It’s probably smart to wait a few months so they don’t suspect anything.” She taps a finger on her chin. “Do you think they’re starting to see through you yet, or do I need to fill them in on any details you might have forgotten to mention?”

Her words snap me out of my frozen state. I cross my arms over my chest so she can’t see that my hands are shaking. “Ididn’t do anything but tell Caden we were better as friends. You all destroyed our group without any help fromme.”

“Quinn, stop pretending you’re the victim. You toyed with him while it was fun and then you crushed him. We all saw it. You’re just mad because we called you out on it.”

My jaw drops open, and my eyes grow scratchy with tears. How did I ever call Paige my best friend? In retrospect, I should have known who she was from her quick judgments and cutting sarcastic words. But she never aimed her cruelty at me, so I brushed it off. Or worse, thought it was funny.

I turn and walk away from her. There’s nothing I can do to change her mind or make this better. But I refuse to cry in front of her.

Chapter Seventeen

I race up the stairs and find a corner where I can pull myself together. I study each person in view, but Caden is nowhere to be seen. I’d be shocked if Paige came here on her own, though. I drop my chin to my chest and squeeze my eyes shut. Where were all the words I carefully prepared for her? Where was the pink sweatshirt thrown in her face and the bitingyou never deserved me? But no amount of mental rehearsal could have prepared me for the pain of seeing her face to face. I’d imagined her being taken aback by how badass I looked in my costume—instead, it was one more example of how I’m a tease. And I just stood there and took it before running away like a coward.

Tears threaten to come, and I squeeze my eyes shut and will them away. No crying. It’s over. Instead I need to think about what I’m going to do now. I can’t stay here since Paige is liable to come upstairs any moment and run into me again, and I can’t hide in the bathroom since it’s downstairs, whereshe is right now. There’s a grilled cheese food truck outside. It’s the perfect excuse to be away from the store.

I find Kashvi and Sloane in the corner looking at mini figures for D&D. “Hey, I’m going to put an order in at the food truck. I’ll find you in a bit.”

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