Page 44 of Never Say Die
“What, cops? Nah, man. We’re good,” Westley said. He reeked like stale beer, heady bourbon, and skunky weed. Bloodshot eyes scaled Aiden, slow and deliberate. “Can I get you guys anything?”
Aiden forced another, bigger smile. “You mentioned party favors.”
“Maybe food first,” Shay blurted, shooting Aiden a pinched look.
“Pretty sure I saw your friends goin’ down on a whole pizza out by the jacuzzi,” Westley said, glancing at Shay. He flicked his attention back to Aiden, brows lifted, smile lopsided. “Pick your poison, baby. I’ve got it all.”
Aiden swallowed around a hiccupping laugh.Baby. Right. “Something fun,” he purred, trailing his mouth across the wet rim on his cup. “Molly, maybe?”
“How ‘bout a pink butterfly? Clean cut, hits like a dream, mild comedown.”
“We’re not doing ecstasy tonight,” Shay said, bewildered.
“We’retotallydoing ecstasy tonight,” Aiden said, and opened his palm. “How much?”
“Don’t worry about it. Just find me later, yeah?” Westley dropped a gritty, shell-pink pill into Aiden’s hand. He put anunlit cigarette between his lips, walking backward toward the deck. “Have fun.”
Aiden didn’t bother sayingthank you. He rolled the pill between his thumb and pointer finger. “Chew or snort? Oh, c’mon. Don’t pout.”
“I’m not pouting.” Shay snatched the pill and put it to his teeth, cracking it in half. “Eww,” he whined, chewing and wincing, and shoved the other half between Aiden’s lips. “It’s like eating gasoline.”
Aiden nipped at his fingertips, but immediately flinched. His gag reflex tripped. Acrid, chemical tang burst on his tongue, coating his throat as he swallowed. God, drugs were gross.Great, but gross. He chased the pill with cola and whiskey. Fished the citrus wedge out of his cup and gnawed on the whole thing.
“Don’t be a pussy,” Aiden slurred, tonguing at the sour lime.
Shay laughed into his cup and took another long drink. “C’mon, let’s find Georgia and Dylan.”
The deck branched away from the kitchen and snaked around the cabin, littered with Adirondack chairs and outdoor cushions. People leaned against the live-edge banister and sat in groups on the slatted wood, drinking, laughing, smoking. Dealing cards, too. Silver-tipped cards. Handled by petite, velvet gloves. He slowed, watching Laura flip a card between eight knobby knees, connected like a strange star atop a purple blanket.
She lolled her head, catching his gaze. “Hey, rockstar.”
“Sorry ‘bout your friend,” Aiden said.
“Don’t be. It’s always the pretty ones who die first.”
Die first.Aiden didn’t know what to make of that, but he thought of Shay and nodded. “Guess you’re right.”
“Want a reading?” she asked.
Aiden glanced around the circle of wannabe-witches wrapped in button-down bell-sleeved shirts and filigree chokers.Tidy vegetarian vampires with black eyelids and fake septum rings. He pulled an ice cube into his mouth. “Sure,” he said, sloppily.
“You, too?” Laura asked, shifting her hazel eyes to Shay.
Somehow, like a raccoon, Shay had disappeared around the corner and returned with a slice of pepperoni pizza. He looked struck, licking red sauce from the corner of his mouth, shifting his nervous attention to Aiden. When Aiden nodded, Shay said, “Might as well.”
“It’s tarot, right? Like, Rider-Waite or whatever?” Aiden asked.
“If you know who Rider-Waite is then you already know it’s tarot,” one of the others said.
Laura adjusted her gloves, dislodged from the group, and stood. She shuffled the deck, clapping the cards against her palm. Around them, partygoers hollered and sang. Bottles clanked. Music livened from the speakers inside. Aiden reminded himself to breathe. To grant the MDMA and whatever else had lived inside that little pink pill permission to push through his cranium. Sometimes, he fought. Tried to see how long he could stay level. Tonight, he relented, and euphoria sliced through him like butter.
Shay handed him the pizza. He took a bite. Swallowed. Took another bite. Swallowed. Went through the motions, gave his stomach something solid to digest, and blinked, focusing on the cards, and Laura, and her velvet gloves, and not on Shay, and his hand,there, resting on his tailbone.
“Pick a card,” Laura said, smiling gingerly. She fanned the deck. Light bent around silver edges and obscured the darkness, leaving wispy trails around her hands. “Rockstar,” she said, like someone would sayhey, you. “I don’t have all night. Pick.” Aiden chose. She pinched the card and flipped it over. The Two of Cups. She made a curious noise and swung the card upright,displaying two holographic skeletons holding gothic challises. “Unification. You might’ve found your soulmate. Or you will soon. Could mean you’ve entered an overwhelming relationship. You might be suffocating—are you?”
“No,” Aiden said, searing the card into his memory. “What else?”
She tipped her head from side to side, considering. “You might enter into a mutually beneficial pact with someone. Tie your fate to someone else’s. That’s rare, though. Usually, people have totryfor shit like that.”
