Mr. Knight/A Jordan Knight Fanfic ✔️

12

12. canto

The afternoon of Halloween, Claire storms into the living room and delivers an ultimatum: "Either you dress up and come out with me or I'm firing you as my best friend."

Curled into a corner of the couch with a cup of tea and a book, I don't bother looking up. "I'm not putting on a slutty witch costume and getting drunk in public. Halloween is the stupidest adult holiday ever."

She gasps in exaggerated horror. "You did not just say that!"

I roll my eyes and take a sip of my tea. "Besides, three's a crowd. I'm not interested in chatting up random dudes while you and Griffen make out in a corner."

She snatches the book out of my hands and throws it down on the coffee table.

"What the hell, Claire!"

"Exactly!" she snaps, pointing a finger at me. "What the hell! You've been a zombie for three weeks. You won't talk about Knight or your dad, and every time I invite you out, you tell me you have to study. You've lost weight, you're not sleeping, and if I have to listen to one more record by The Damned, I'm going to burn the house down!"

I blink, unsure whether to laugh or cry at her tirade. I settle on, "I didn't know you felt that way."

Sighing gustily, she sinks onto the couch. "Please, please come out tonight. It's our last college Halloween. We're not going to a stupid house party, anyway."

I immediately start shaking my head. "No way—"

"Yes," she cuts me off, "we're going to the faculty party. But don't worry, Knight won't be there. Griffen made sure to ask him after class on Wednesday. He said something along the lines of, 'not a chance in hell.' Pretty sure that means you're in the clear."

I groan. "You guys conspired against me."

She nods, unaffected. "We care about you. I hate seeing you this way, and I miss my best friend. Come. Please."

"Last college Halloween," I murmur.

She grins, triumphant. "Yes. And I won't make you wear my slutty witch costume."

"But I don't have—"

"Yes, you do." She flies off the couch and grabs a garment bag from the hall closet. Unzipping it with a flourish, she displays the costume inside.

I look at it for a long moment, then swing my incredulously gaze to her. "Seriously? A fairy? Why do you hate me?"

Claire just laughs. "Not just any fairy," she says proudly. "The Fairy Queen."

~~

The cosmetic gold glitter Claire applied across my eyelids and temples is starting to mess with my vision, giving sparkling haloes to bodies and inanimate objects alike. Or it might be the compounding effects of the green punch—suspiciously strong for a faculty gathering. I'd almost refused it, but Claire had stood with me for ten minutes while I watched people ladling and drinking with no ill effects.

Once my anxiety subsided, she commandeered the entire punch bowl, not allowing anyone near as she poured our drinks. For herself, she went the standard single-cup route, but for me, she filled a thermos so I wouldn't have to face the bowl again.

Now, feeling warm and loose from the punch and dreamy from my glittery vision, I tell her, "You're the greatest wing-woman in the world, Claire-bear."

She giggles, looking up at me from her cozy seat beside Griffen. They're dressed as Odysseus and Penelope of Homer's Odyssey. Anywhere else, they'd be pegged as nothing more specific than Greek gods. But this is, after all, a party of academics.