Page 66 of Bend & Break
His own “costume” is barely an effort, which somehow makes it worse. Grey sweats, his usual beat-up jacket, and a crop top that does nothing to hide how solid he is underneath. The only festive part is the mask shoved on top of his head, plastic face bobbing with every step he takes through the crowd.
It’s fuckingdisastrouson my ovaries.
The kitchen’s a nightmare of jungle juice, overturned cups, and someone passed out in cat ears lying across the counter. The hallway’s clogged with people arguing about beer pong rules. Out back, a bonfire’s roaring, flames so high I half-expect the fire department to show up.
“Remind me why we came?” I shout over the music as a vampire with plastic fangs and a white-painted face stumbles past.
Mads leans down, voice muffled through the edge of the mask. “Because Colin’s parties are legendary, and every football team from the surrounding schools shows up for Halloween. Translation: prime suspect buffet. Also—” he tugs lightly on the bottom of my skirt, grinning when I swat his hand away— “because you look like the hottest amateur sleuth to ever walk the earth, and I’m not missing out on that.”
I roll my eyes playfully.
The bonfire’s throwing sparks high enough to lick at the branches overhead, the heat cutting through the October chill. Circles of people are sprawled on mismatched lawn chairs and overturned crates, half-drunk and loud, the air filled with smoke and the smell of spilled cheap beer.
Mads steers me toward a spot at the edge, one hand steady at my back like he’s making sure no one knocks into me. BeforeI can protest, he disappears into the crowd and comes back with two cans. He cracks one open, takes a cautious sip himself, then hands it to me.
“Safe,” he says.
He’s such a dork, but I quietly appreciate him.
The seat beside me vanishes fast, claimed by a group of girls in fairy wings, so I end up in his lap without thinking twice. His arm curls around my waist, pulling me flush against him.
We fall into easy conversation. Inside jokes about practice, complaints about professors, bits of nothing that make me laugh harder than I ever have with anyone else. Every now and then, he gets up to grab another drink or snag a handful of marshmallows to roast for me, but he always comes back, settling me right back against him.
Friends filter in and out of our circle, yelling over the music blaring from inside the house. The conversation drifts as loosely as the smoke—practice schedules, midterms, who threw up in the downstairs bathroom already.
Eli eventually drops down across from us, his arm slung lazily over his girl’s shoulders. I’ve seen her around before—Riley, journalism major, bright eyes and quick smile, the kind of girl who always looks like she has a recorder stashed somewhere just in case.
I can’t help but laugh to myself at the thought that pops into my head—she’d fit right in with our little Scooby-Doo crew. The Velma to my Daphne.
Tonight, though, she’s a mess—hair sticking to her temples, dirt smudged on her knees, a fresh scratch across her cheek. Sweat clings to her skin like she’s sprinted across half the campus, but the way Eli’s grinning at her makes me wonder if running around was only part of the story. She’s animated, talking a mile a minute while Eli hangs on her every word.
“I thought I’d deleted everything—whole projects, gone,” she says, brushing it off with a half-shrug. “But I finally figured it out and got my files back.”
Mads and I trade a glance. Both of us are instantly more alert.
“Wait—how?” Mads asks, trying for casual, but the edge in his voice makes Riley tilt her head at him.
“It was silly, honestly. I kept trying to open the corrupted stuff normally, which just made it worse. What worked was pulling the raw data through a partition reader and rebuilding it in smaller chunks. It takes forever, but the files start piecing back together if you isolate the headers.” She shrugs, sipping her drink. “Our professors love scaring us with worst-case scenarios, so I went down a rabbit hole. Turns out paranoia pays off.”
My heart kicks. I feel Mads’ hand tighten where it rests on my hip, and when I meet his eyes, I see the same spark of hope that just flared in my chest.
We’ve been stuck for days. But now—now maybe we’re not.
Riley shifts the conversation back to something else, oblivious, but neither of us is listening anymore. We’re too busy silently screaming at each other with our eyes, ready to ditch this whole scene for the chance to try what she just described.
Mads leans down, his breath hot against my neck, voice low enough to cut through the chaos without anyone else hearing. “We’ll leave soon enough. But first—one more thing.”
The noisefrom the party fades as soon as we leave the bonfire behind, the air colder, quieter, heavy with woodsmoke. We cut back toward the SUV, and I tug at his sleeve like I can physically drag him faster.
“We need to get back,” I remind him for the third time, urgency in my voice. I don’t know why the hell he’s taking his sweet time. It’s not like him. “You heard Riley. We could actually get those files back if we try it her way. Every second we waste out here is?—”
“Time I’m spending with you,” he interrupts smoothly, pulling my body against his.
I look up at him, narrowing my eyes. “Don’t try to turn this into something cute. We need that drive, Mads.”
“I know.” He gives me a squeeze. “But I’m not letting this circus ruin my plans.”
I stop dead in the middle of the driveway. “Plans? What plans?”
