Page 64 of Knot Just for Show

Before I can sink deeper into any feelings of guilt or remorse however, Lysander is shaking my shoulder, his eyes wide and bright as he asks, “So are we going to talk through our game plan for tomorrow or what?”

“Of course, Sandy, we can plan our outfits out—down to the socks if you want, lil’ bro,” I laugh, ruffling his dark curls with my massive palm—darting a glance at Mavren, already in hushed conference with Ash and Ronan, that dangerous and knowing glare no longer fixed on me.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Ursula

“I’m sorry you what!?” Roxy practically screams at me in her cramped bathroom—the pair of us sitting on her counter beneath the tiny vent fan, smoking one of the last of her contraband joints—painting our toenails in shades of shimmering pink and vermillion.

“I know! I know! I couldn’t believe that he was suggesting that we just fuckin’ flick’n’jerk right there in the goddamn bubble—but holy shit, Rox…when I tell you it was fucking hot and I came so goddamn hard.” I hold up my hands in surrender, waiting for her to pass me the tiny smoking roach.

“Holy shit—well, now it makes sense why he turned in his key to my lounge then.” Roxy shakes her head, bewildered.

“Listen, if anyone is the most shocked by this turn of events.” I shake my head—pinching the small bit of herb out of her fingers and drawing the sweet, skunky smoke into my lungs.

“So that’s it then? You’re ready—you’ve all decided it’s time to do the big reveal and become a temporary pack?” She blinks—incredulous.

“Yeah, I mean—we haven’t come up with a name or anything, but Kimmy said that the boys are being informed and we’re going to be given call times for the reveal before lights out tonight,” I admit a little sheepishly, knowing that Roxy hasn’t made the call to go to reveals with her temporary pack just yet.

There’s an uncomfortable silence, and I’m more than a bit worried that Roxy might not be feeling so warm and fuzzy toward me just now.

Instead, she just props her chin on her knee, carefully manipulating the nail polish brush as she lays down a layer of shimmering pink on her big toe and says softly, “I don’t think I’m even gonna go to the reveals.”

I sit up straight, not sure if I’ve heard her right.

“You’re not even going to see what they look like?” I blink, somewhat mystified.

To my great surprise, Roxy sniffles back a tiny sob before she begins crying in earnest.

“Oh, honey!” I croon, jamming the brushcap back into the bottle of sparkling vermillion polish—jumping down from the counter and wrapping my arms around Roxy’s long body—folded in on itself across from me on the bathroom counter. “You wanna tell me what’s up, honey? Or you just need to cry it out?”

Roxy answers me by wrapping her arms tightly around my neck—burying her face in my sweatshirt padded shoulder—her sobs coming in shuddering bursts.

“Shh, it’s ok, honey,” I comfort her, stroking her pink and ash blonde hair. As she soaks my shoulder with tears and snot.

“Why should I even meet any of these guys if none of them are in love with me?” she wails as I rock her gently in my arms.

“What makes you think that none of them love you?” I coo soothingly, doing my best to help her calm down.

“All of them are so fucking self-involved—which, like, is that my fault? Am I just some self-centered bitch who’s attracted all these shitty dudes to her?” She sniffles loudly, pulling her face away from my shoulder to reveal her face, red and swollen with tears—mascara rivers carving their way down her regal fae-queen face. “Teddy was the only guy who might have been halfway decent, and he’s obviously moved on to greener pastures.” She gestures to me, and I can’t help but feel a pang of guilt.

“Hey—that isn’t true!” I wipe away some of her black dripping tears with the back of my hand.

“Yeah it is, what the hell have I even talked with these idiots about? The gym? What clubs do they go to, what kind of expensive shit do they buy.” She reaches past me for the box of tissues that we typically reserve for blotting our lipstick, and grabs a handful before blowing her nose loudly.

“The only one who’s even talked about going to the reveals and the getaway is Anton—but he keeps saying shit that makes me think he’s actually a superficial douchebag in real life.” Roxy shakes her head, defeated.

“I’m sorry Rox,” I murmur into her ear as she leans in for another hug. “Sounds like none of these fucking assholesdeserves you. You’re a goddamn star Roxanne, and if these fucking idiots don’t burn just as hard or as bright—fuck ‘em.” I give her a tight squeeze. “Even if I’m selfish and sorry that I won’t get to hang out with you until the stupid mixers later in the season.” My own voice is watery with tears now as I hold Roxy, still sobbing softly, against me.

“You’ll be fine without me on your little fuck-cation,” she laughs through her tears, pushing away from me to dazzle me with a trembling but still beautiful smile. “You’ll owe me a few tequila shots and some catch-up when they finally bring all of us rejects back for happy hour.” She snorts back a snot bubble, knocking me gently on the shoulder with a playful punch.

“You have my word,” I assure her.

“Oh, you had better, Ursula Goldblum-Laskaris. Remember, I know about the little barbie bungalow—I know where you live.” She winks at me—tears making her lashes stick together in wet clumps.

I clasp her hand in mine, and we shake on it.

When Kimmy had told me that my reveal wouldn’t be until nearly seven at night the next day—I had been equal parts relieved and wound tight with anxiety.

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