Page 22 of The Two of Us

Girls flock around Cat then as if she’s a beacon, guiding them to her, and she’s kind enough to hold eye contact with me, telepathically sending me assurance that she won’t abandon me tonight. It’s not a secret that Cat severing our friendship would catapult her higher into the social status stratosphere, but she’s never given me any indication that I’m not enough. Besides, sharing her with the masses means I can disappear into the background for a little while.

“I’m going to find a bathroom!” I call over the music.

Cat instantly begins removing herself from the clutches of Leonna Stine and Shai Pavarti. “I’ll go with you!”

The two girls fix their glares on me, letting me know I’m being an inconvenience.

“Stay, it’s fine. I’ll be right back.” I smile.

The downstairs den is huge, but the bodies milling about give it a lived-in feel. The rest of the house is cavernous and lonely—an exhibit on display. I glide up the velvet-lined staircase, passing paintings that are probably worth more than my house. It’s quiet and I wonder where Macy’s parents are. After popping my head into three different rooms, I find the bathroom at the far end of the hall. The toilet is a fancy one with too many buttons and instead of pushing what I think is the flush button, I push something that causes a spray of water to shoot out onto my costume.

“Great,” I groan.

My eyes are downcast as I leave the bathroom, focused on drying my shirt with the hand towel I found. The towel falls to the floor as I bump into a firm chest.

“Oh, I’m so—Ambrose.” Ambrose’s hands are on my shoulders, keeping me from tipping over.

“Hi.” When he realizes his hands are still on me, he removes them quickly, blushing. It’s then that I look down at what he’s wearing.

Ambrose King dons a black jumpsuit with cardboard attached to his chest resembling a piece of paper. Ambrose came as paper. When he registers what I’m thinking, his eyes lock with mine, smiling, and I take a mental snapshot, storing the image away for safekeeping.

“Nice costume.” I grin.

He rolls his eyes and chuckles. “Yeah, yeah.”

I pretend to look confused. “What are you supposed to be?”

“Ha!” he says, shooting his hand out to tickle my side and I shriek in delight.

I flick the cardboard on his chest. “What will your friends think of you?”

“I don’t know,” he sighs. “But I realized I care what you and Cat think of me a lot more.”

The fact that he includes me in on that—that my opinion matters so much to him—it’s enough for me to think this may be the best Halloween of my life.

I cross my arms, grinning from ear to ear. “Surprised.”

“Oh, okay. Um…” He taps his chin in thought. “Birthdays.”

“Party.”

“Kids.”

“Friends.”

He hesitates but recovers quickly. “Us!”

I giggle. “You’re losing your touch, slowpoke.”

“That’s more than one word.”

“That wasn’t my word!”

He grins. “That’s four words. You do know how this game works, right?”

I playfully pinch his arm and he laughs, swatting me away. “Mara,” I say.

He looks at me in a way I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look at me before. “Pretty,” he says and we both go still.

Something blooms inside of me and I want to water it every day and let it grow because it’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever felt.

A group of kids race up the stairs and Ambrose and I jump like we’ve been caught doing something we aren’t supposed to. When we look at each other again, we start laughing.

“Come on,” he says, grabbing my hand. “Let’s find Cat before she sends a search party for you.”

It’s the first time I’ve ever held Ambrose’s hand and I’m suddenly convinced that my hand was made to fit perfectly inside of his. I don’t want to let him go. And I promise myself in that very moment that even when we get back downstairs, even when we find Cat and we break our physical connection, I never will.

I’ll never let Ambrose King go.

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