Page 11 of sWitch

Mary Jane smiled. “You’re cuteandfunny.”

“That’s why they stole and cloned my DNA. With you, know, minor, unimportant additions.” I cupped my hands over my mouth and whispered, “A penis.”

Max exclaimed. “Mom, Remy saidpenis!”

And Mary Jane, and all of us in the SUV, lost our minds laughing.

Leaving MJ and kids at the bleachers, I searched for Fauna. Finally, I spotted little miss princess in line for concessions. She was wearing a frilly white corset top and a billowing floral skirt with her hair tied up in space buns. The little pink ribbons tied in her rosy locks fluttered in the wind like butterflies. Fauna Belrose was a real life princess— it was disgusting. And so fucking hot. Fuck, why did I like her so freaking much?

I casually came to sand next to her in line, nudging her shoulder as she tapped at her phone. She looked up, and the skin flushed beneath her metallic star stickers. So damn cute.

“Hi, Remy,” she said sweetly. “Thirsty?”

“Downright parched, actually. Buy you a blue slushy again?”

Her face heated even more, and she nervously fiddled with the frills of her skirt. “Actually, I was thinking I want nachos. Soccer nachos are the best nachos.” She gave me a sideways glance. “Try not to spill them on me this time.”

Was she flirting? I hoped so. “If you don’t think I’d lick nacho cheese sauce off you— try me and see.”

“Shh!” She giggled, punching my arm. “There are people around who could hear you.”

I grinned. “Then let’s go someplace more private.”

“You’re trouble,” she whispered, biting her lip. Her eyes were sparkling now. She was happy to see me, wasn’t she?

We reached the counter, and I ordered. “Hey, we’ll have nachos, a few candy boxes, and a soda, please.” I handed the guy a wad of cash and told him to keep the change.

Fauna fiddled with her butterfly-shaped change purse. “You don’t have to keep paying for my stuff.”

“You’ll never pay for anything with me. I like doing it.”

“I can pay you back.”

“I don’t want your pinkie-pie-princess money. What, is it strawberry scented or some shit? Bedazzled?”

She started laughing, the sweetest freaking sound ever, and put a hand on my arm for balance. My whole body tingled at the contact, and I flexed on instinct.

I carried her tray of food, and we walked slowly down the gravel, neither of us in a hurry, the shouts of fans almost an invisible murmur around us. “I like your sports bra.” Fauna took a seat on a small hill in the grass next to the bleachers and put her cat-ear headphones over her ears. “I can still hear you,” she explained. “Just helps reduce noise and keep me from getting over stimulated.”

I nodded. “The cat ears suit you.” I ran a hand through my hair, realizing how gross I probably looked. “I’m sweaty. I worked at the tattoo shop all day, then had band practice, then came straight here.”

“The band you play drums in?” she asked, taking a bite of nacho. “I remember you were drumming on your bag the day we officially met.”

I nodded, marveling at how freaking cute she was.

“What’s your band’s name?”

“Mall Ratz.”

“Why?”

“Because we only play birthday parties at the mall and get paid in pizza.”

She giggled. I could easily get addicted to making her laugh. “What do y’all sound like?”

I shrugged. “Nirvana if they sucked. We’re playing the mall arcade next week. Another thirteen-year-old’s bangin’ birthday bash.” My knuckles brushed her arm as I reached for the soda, taking a sip. It didn’t escape my notice that she didn’t flinch at my touch, nor at us sharing a straw. Fauna was comfortable with me— and that was very important to me. It was my goal to make sure she always felt safe and at peace in my presence.

That’s why I had to make sure she was okay. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

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