Beneath

19 HAPPY HALLOWEEN

C A M I L A

Royal Pines Inn. I've never been here, and for good reason. It looms like a castle from a storybook. The lights spill out onto the arcing driveway full of limos, emptying clowns, policemen, bunnies, superheroes, and vampires. They all head into the extravagant double doors.

Maddie grabs my sleeve, pulling me into the lobby. It's like walking onto a classical movie set. The floor is marble, the furniture belongs in a museum, and that's a real Monet on the wall. I clutch my duffel bag tighter, acutely aware of my sneakers' scuff marks. And it smells like chocolate.

Maddie leads the way to the front desk where Fox is already there. And he's a fireman—red helmet, bare chest with suspenders holding up those fireproof pants. His chest and abs are gleaming with some kind of oil, his grin broad.

He smiles at us both, winking at a blushing, gawking Maddie. "Party starts in the ballroom." He sorts through an envelope and hands us each a black shiny room card. "Fourth floor. See you at seven."

Oh, yes, right—we're staying overnight, because that's not insane or anything.

As Maddie and I navigate the inn, I take it all in like a starving person. Up the elevator. Down the halls. When we reach our room, Maddie scans her card and we shuffle in sideways.

Two king beds with creamy silk sheets, a desk, a chair, and a TV. Chocolates on the pillows, a mini bar stacked, and white robes with matching slippers on the beds. I've never stayed somewhere like this before.

"Cam, come on," Maddie says, nodding to my duffle. "I have to straighten your hair and we need at least eight hours for all of it."

Hilarious. Really.

"Camila! Hi!"

I spin at the voice coming from the ensuite bathroom.

Paige.

She's standing in the doorway to the bathroom, dressed in a stunning Cleopatra costume, complete with a gold headdress and intricate, glistening makeup. Her midriff, arms and legs are all exposed and shimmering with lustre dust. She looks like she stepped right out of history.

We both know someone who loves history, don't we.

"Ready for the best party of the year?" Paige says.

Well, for me, it just has to beat that one other party I went to, so yeah, the bar's low. If I don't leave soaked in beer, that's a win.

Maddie nods. "We need to get Cam out of her comfort zone. I have faith."

I unzip my bag, plucking out the three things that I picked out with one person in mind: me. This is for the old me who I have to make proud tonight.

Paige saunters to the minibar and pulls out three tiny plastic bottles of tequila, handing them out. I happily pop the cap on mine and throw it back, wincing and the cold-hot burn down my throat, coughing after I swallow.

Paige follows my lead and then coughs out a laugh, knocking my shoulder. "I think we're going to be really good friends, Cam."

Maddie shoves me into the bathroom to start on my hair. "This is going to be so worth it," she insists, plugging in the straightener. "Trust me, Cam."

I sit on the edge of the bathtub, scowling at her. I can't tell if it's the ongoing bullshit at Fire Base or missing Noah, but I'm not in the mood for this. I've been petty with Maddie, particularly, ignoring her and so on. She's just moved on. Maybe I'm being immature, but I'm still pissed at her.

For a few minutes, Maddie works away at my hair, dropping sleek, warm pieces to my back as she goes.

Then Paige joins, hopping up on the sink counter. "Wow, Cam. I didn't expect your hair to straighten so well. Are you excited to see Noah?"