[REWRITTING]
❛𝐖𝐑𝐀𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈 𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐎𝐒!❜
⸻ in which Rory Hargrove is obsessed to uncover the truth behind Barbara Holland's disappearance, while facing her brother's enemy an...
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THE COLD WIND CUT THROUGH THE AIR LIKE A BLADE, rushing into the car's open window and sending a chill straight to Rory's bare legs. She thought about closing it, but Billy was smoking and driving, the smell of tobacco thickening the air. No chance she was suffocating in here just for a little warmth.
She shifted in her seat and lowered the sunshade, checking her reflection. Her lipstick? Still intact. It wasn't much, but she had taken a risk tonight.
The blue Camaro roared as Billy parked it in front of the Harrington mansion, a sound that made the walls feel like they were trembling with anticipation. Billy slammed the door shut, straightening his red leather jacket, his necklaces swinging in the air. He didn't bother with a costume — he could be the main character in a horror movie just by being himself.
Side by side, the twins walked toward the house, the bass of the music vibrating through the floorboards and into their chests. The house was alive with people, a swirl of costumes, plastic cups, and chaos.
And there, in the distance, was Steve Perfect Hair-rington— the host of the party, with more hairspray than usual.
Billy, soon as he arrived, he ingratiated himself into the crowd. Applause, slaps on the back, and the eager swarm of girls gave him the spotlight. And Rory was happy that he was doing well. Billy was far from perfect — and she knew it — but he was her brother, blood of her blood, a twin.
So she tried to defend her brother as much as she could and try to understand him, because she was the only one who really knew him. But there were limits, her values were more important than anything else.
Also, it was oddly satisfying about seeing Steve watch Billy's entrance, his jaw tightening in barely-contained annoyance. Apparently, the popular boy wasn't the only one in the spotlight.
After seeing Billy, Steve looked around for Hargrove's other half.
For a moment, Rory found it endearing that Steve remembered her existence, so she took a few steps toward him. Steve's eyes flicked, after he pulled his sunglasses down with his index finger, and raised the red plastic cup in his hand in greeting.
Rory gave a small, subtle smile. A surprise to Harrington, indeed, because of her reaction to his invitation.
Her blue eyes caught the light in a way that made them shimmer with a quiet defiance.
She couldn't care less about Steve's opinion, but it was hard to ignore the way his gaze lingered, a little too long, as it drifted over her outfit — her white silk dress, splattered with fake blood like a scene from Carrie, hugging her body just enough, her bare legs, and the subtle wave in her hair. And, of course, her California denim jacket to protect her arms from the cold.
