Wicked Game

Chapter 6

The glam squad did indeed have a wig—but it was a platinum white bob. Rhea couldn't even imagine who it would have been intended for originally, but one of the hairstylists took pity on her and enhanced it with a variety of extensions and some spray-on colour until it looked like something a goth might potentially wear—if that goth were going to a rave in the middle of Pride Month. "You're wearing more than two colours!" Liv exclaimed. "You look so good!"

Liv's disguise, of course, was much less complicated. She had taken off all her ring makeup and was wearing a plain white t-shirt and basic jeans, and she could have passed for a student on virtually any university campus in the country. In contrast, Rhea was wearing a long-sleeved shirt to cover her tattoos and plain grey leggings she had borrowed from Becky since all her jeans had carefully curated holes designed to highlight specific tattoos. "Let's get out of here before Damian shows up. If he gets a picture of this," Rhea grumbled, "he'll never let me live it down." She flicked a long strand of red hair out of her face.

"Does that mean I don't get a picture either?" Liv asked. Finn was taking their bags back to the hotel so they could get an early start and hopefully avoid too many fans, so they only had to worry about purses.

"You can have a picture of the wig when you're wearing it." Rhea sped up and headed directly for her rental car. "Do you still want to do the carnival or would you rather go for coffee?"

"I'd like the carnival. If we think people are recognizing us," Liv added, shoulders slumping a bit, "we can leave."

Not much chance of them recognizing me, Rhea thought, bending down in front of the driver's side mirror for a moment. She was struggling to recognize herself. "Maybe one picture," she muttered as she got behind the wheel. "But it stays on my phone, and I decide who gets to see it."

Liv perked up a bit. "Deal."

The carnival grounds were close to the arena, held on the site of the city's previous major sports venue, and Rhea breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that parking was only five bucks. "Maybe we should have gone for coffee."

"Coffee's more expensive than the parking," Liv pointed out. After they had parked and paid their admission, they stepped off to the side to check out the fairgrounds. "I guess winning a stuffed animal won't be happening."

"Wouldn't fit in your luggage anyway." Then Rhea spotted some of the food stalls. "Snack?"

"Always." They wandered over to the food row, air thick with the scents of sugar and frying oil, and their hands brushed a few times before Liv finally grabbed Rhea's hand and held it. "Is this okay?"

"Yeah." Rhea pointed ahead. "There's those little donuts you like."

Liv automatically reached for her purse. "I'll get them. You paid for the parking." Then she grinned. "Besides, your accent is going to stick out a lot more here than mine will."

"Fuck. Never thought of that." Rhea followed Liv in the line and grabbed one of the doughnut bags when she was done paying. "What next?" she asked, popping a doughnut in her mouth.

"Want to just walk around?" Liv suggested. There weren't a lot of rides to begin with, but most of them had long lines, so they opted for things like the house of mirrors instead, Liv giggling every time Rhea caught a glimpse of herself. When Liv clenched Rhea's hand hard enough that Rhea felt her knuckles grinding together, though, she knew Liv had spotted something she wanted to explore. "The fortune teller tent!" Liv squealed. "I haven't seen one in forever! Can we—"

Rhea couldn't help but grin. She and Liv hadn't been split up for all that long, realistically speaking, but it was nice to know that some things didn't change much. "Lead on," Rhea replied, gamely following Liv down the alley of rickety booths and faded tunnels. Just as someone left the tent, however, another person was coming out with a sign—a Closed sign. "Hurry," Rhea urged, letting go of Liv's hand so she could run ahead.