Page 51 of Before Now

In all the years I’ve known him, all the times he’s been a prick, I’ve never been close to hitting him until this moment. He appears just as close to unloading on me. His fist clenches at his side and then relaxes and then tightens again, the rest of him equally tense.

We’ve never gotten here before. Nearing a point of not being able to take shit back. I can’t figure out why he’s pushed us here now, but I move the rest of the way to him. Chest to fucking chest.

“I don’t know what the hell your problem is, Chase,” I say, my tone low but even. “Or where any of this is coming from, but I’m over it. I’m over you, and I’m over this entire fucking trip.”

I stare him down while he seethes right back.

“Maybe you should leave then,” he bites at me.

“That’s the first thing we agree on all night.” Then I step again, around him, walking away.

He curses and knocks something over behind me and shouts for me to stop.

I don’t, unwilling to give him the fight he clearly wants.

Chase is my brother. Nothing could ever change it. But right now, his bullshit is on the list of things I have no interest in.

On my way down the stairwell, I order a ride, and once outside the club, I cut off the end of the video.

I send the rest to Remi.

15

REMI

Slutty fairies.

Black mini dresses with a corset top, see-through front panels, a sparkly tulle over the skirt, and of course, silver wings. My heeled boots have straps and buckles and stop mid-calf, which means plenty of skin. The costumes are sexy. Attention-grabbing.

And fucking freezing.

Even with the arm warmers I insisted on wearing, covering wrists to elbows, I can’t pretend we are anywhere except Ashfield, Ohio, in late October. As much as I’d rather be anywhere else.

The Halloween carnival my town puts on every year loses its appeal after about an hour. Not that it had much to begin with—outside the room of mirrors. That was by far the most fun I’ve had all night.

Dimitri Sinner might have made his living photographing wildlife, but he completed a series out of college involving mirrors. Some kids read bedtime stories with their dads, mine told me about shoots, showing me the prints. He went into detail about his processes, how he framed each photo. With the amount of information I absorbed simply from falling asleep as he talked, it would be shocking if I went into anything other than visual media.

Specifically film studies.

He captured stills of the world, and I want to capture it spinning.

Document all the beautiful things.

It just so happens, I found someone interested in seeing all those things, too.

As I wait for Sage to come out of the lovely portable toilet she avoided for as long as possible, I tug my black arm warmers higher. I tug one anyway. For the left one, I carefully ease the fabric back up to my elbow to avoid pulling at the wrap farther down on my forearm. Other than tonight, I’ve gotten away with long sleeves to cover the bandage.

But, slutty fairies required some improvising.

“Bitch”—Sage bounds over and grabs my hand—“it’s trick-or-treat time.”

She drags me behind a booth for pumpkin carving, but then keeps ahold of me, sidling right up beside me while she bends over to dig in her boot.

“You won’t be cold tonight, huh?” I ask.

Sage tosses my hand away from her, fishes inmyboot, and holds her chin a little higher when she straightens. “I’m not cold. I was just trying to show you affection. Sor-ry.”

I let her have it, even if she goes rigid, fighting off a shiver through the attitude.

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