Page 27 of The Masks We Wear

What the fuck?Stop laughing.

But I can’t. And now, neither can Remy. Her hand shoots to my chest, gripping on it to stable herself against her dry heaves. We must look like complete psychos, but we keep laughing until our voices crack and cheeks start to hurt.

I smack my lips together, suddenly aware of the cottonmouth I have. “We got to get a drink, Rem.”

Her mouth drops open, handing me two red cups she manifests out of the air. “Ha! I like that.”

We cheer to her new name and take our drinks in a few large gulps. The same sweet licorice taste from earlier flows down my throat. Remy lowers her voice to a whisper, letting her eyes dart around frantically. “Like a rem job.”

Another laugh erupts from deep in my core. “It’s call—”

A pair of nails rake up my back, searing the skin beneath as if there’s no fabric to protect me.

Do I have a shirt on?

“For someone so smart, you’re dumb as fuck. It’s a r-i-m job, you idiot.” Amora’s voice cuts through the air, but it misses Remy completely.

Instead, we both look at each other and crack into more chortling. I think Remy even snorts, which only pushes us further into our hysterics. Finally, under a little control, Remy’s eyes widen, her hands curling around her stomach. “I ha-have to p-pee.”

Amora steps into view, and I jerk back, bumping into a squealing sexy mail woman. I hadn’t even realized she was still standing there, and seeing her now in her Harley Quinn outfit is kind of...sexy?

She’s a pretty girl—tall, and slightly curvy in all the right places, with the clearest set of light blue eyes I’ve ever seen. But she’s also a raging sarcastic bitch, who has fucked half the school’s populous from what I hear.

“Bathroom downstairs has a line. Take the stairs. First door on the left.”

On the left?That’s not where it’s at.Is it?

I’m not sure.What was I doing before this? Oh, shit. My shirt.

Placing my cup on the counter, my hands rove over my upper body. I feel the soft cotton under my fingertips and sigh.How weird would that have been?

It is hot, though. Like, make-sense-why-a-guy-would-take-off-his-shirt-in-the-middle-of-a-party hot. I lift the bottom and wipe my forehead.

Why is it so fucking hot? Where is Remy again?

I can’t seem to focus on a singular thought, and the once giggle bug that bit me left when Remy did. So I concentrate on that. I just saw her. She said she needed something.

Was it a drink?

No.

Something about the patio, maybe... my arm tingles. It almost reminds me of that time William had me try Molly….

“Lily wants to know if you still want to fuck her.”

My face snaps to the sound, shredding my concentration. Amora is still standing near me, leaning against the island, twirling a blue-tinted pigtail around her finger.

Lily.

I don’t like her. She’s not the same as she used to be. I miss Liliana.

A strange pain stretches across my chest, and I clutch at it, suddenly finding it harder to breathe.

Why is it so fucking hot?

“She wants to know.”

“Do I want to have sex with her? I doubt that,” I bite out. “Why?”

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