Bittersweet (Book #1 Evening Wings Trilogy)

Chapter 24

24

I pulled the Rust bucket up to the gates of the Fairy Crossing Community.

Sabine, the pale, white haired guard leaned out of the window of the small hut and her snowy white terrier yapped at me from the open doorway. Her eyes were slightly shadowed with the presence of her long lashes. The sapphire irises sparkled. Her lips were painted blood red today and she looked bored.

“Are you Elizabeth?” she asked in a full Italian accent.

I nodded.

Sabine rolled her eyes and pressed some sort of button, causing the gates to swing open.

“Your friend’s house is the third on Hedge,” Sabine advised, opening a copy of some cheesy teen magazine from the supermarket.

“Thanks,” I said, but she wasn’t listening anymore.

I put the Rust bucket in ‘drive’ again and placed my foot lightly on the gas. Maple Avenue was slightly desolate and the only real neighbors were the trees. I passed two old style houses and when I rounded the bend in the road, I immediately knew it was Zaria’s house.

All the girls from the table we sat at during lunch lay on the snowy lawn before a large Tudor style house. I realized they were making snow angels.

I parked the Rust bucket behind a Dodge Neon and reached into the backseat for my duffel bag, finding my cell phone in the process from where it had been thrown after the SUV had slipped off the road.

I slipped it into my pocket and got out of the Rust bucket, shouldering my duffel bag and pressing the lock mechanism on the key fob. The Rust bucket’s headlights winked at me.

“Liz!” Zaria yelled, excitement filling her voice.

I turned around and Zaria stood behind me with a huge smile on her face.

I gasped.

Zaria had reverted to the look she’d had when I’d first met her.

Heavy black kohl swarmed both eyes; her lips painted a shimmering frosted cherry. The hair at the top of her head dyed a vibrant fuchsia and blond and black streaks finished the bottom half of her hair. She was dressed in subtle gray and an electric blue, leopard print scarf stuck out of the collar of her sweater.

“Whoa,” I said in stunned amazement.

She giggled. “It’s awesome, I know.”

“Come on, this’ll be so fun.” Zaria laughed, grabbing my hand and tugging me along behind her.

Suddenly the trauma, pain and guilt of my horrible evening didn’t seem so dreadful anymore.

I followed Zaria up to the house, and inside.

Only a few moments later, we were all in our pajamas, prancing about the living room where Zaria’s grandmother had allocated the festivities, singing and dancing to cheesy boy band music. When the song ended we fell to the hardwood floor in fits of giggles.

“Okay, okay,” voiced a bold girl called Rosa. “Let’s play truth, or dare.”

Zaria sniffed reluctantly and tossed another log into the roaring hearth. “Rosa, you know I don’t like that game.”

“Oh loosen up Z!” Rosa giggled. “C’mon, give it a try.”

Zaria frowned for a moment and then obliged with a small nod.

“You first Luella,” Rosa smiled. “Truth or dare?”

The timid red haired girl thought for a second, and then said, “Dare.”