The Book at the Top of the Closet

Chapter Twenty-Eight

 I drop the book in my lap. My eyes tear up, and I swipe at them roughly. I can't believe it. I mean. Aria seems so strong in the pages, and it's almost painful to read her words, to feel the traces of her emotions clinging to the paper. I tap out a text to Veronica.

Need a distraction. ANYTHING.

She texts back within minutes.

Board games and drinks tonight with Liam and some guys?

The prospect of seeing Liam and his kind eyes eases the queasy feeling in my stomach.

Sure, what time?

Six

Come help with makeup?

I don't wait for her to text back before throwing on a little white sundress and shoving the diary to the depths of my backpack where I don't have to look at it. By the time she shows up at my door minutes later, I've tugged my hair up into a high ponytail and laid out every bit of makeup I own on the bed. Already, I feel better, as if the prospect of a makeover and a cute outfit are armor protecting me from the anxiety that presses in around me.

Veronica leans on the doorframe while I fire off a text to Liam saying I'll see him tonight, and when I make no attempt to explain why I needed a distraction so badly, she doesn't pry. I figure she'll assume it's just my anxiety acting up, and I hope she doesn't think too much about the fact that if it were a normal anxiety problem, the last thing I would want is to go to a party.

Over the course of a movie montage style makeover, I feel myself start to relax ever so slightly. Veronica talks about a video game she likes while she tries different shades of eyeshadow on me, finally settling on a deep copper color that makes my eyes look more green than hazel and gives me a feline sort of wildness. Veronica is my very own fairy godmother, turning my night into something glittery. Not for the first time, I think she's the best sort of magic.

We make it to the party just as drinks are being poured, and I let Veronica pour mine. She knows to make it super weak- I have no experience drinking, and even less with parties like this. There are guys crowded around the coffee table, unidentifiable board game pieces dropping to the ground now and then. So far, no sign of Liam.

Within an hour, I've had more to drink than I intended. Veronica is in worse shape, twirling around and singing sea shanties at the top of her lungs. I send up a silent prayer to- maybe Freya, I guess?- that no one calls in a noise complaint. It would be my luck to get busted for underage drinking the one time I break the rules.

Spotting an empty armchair in the corner, I maneuver past the boys and their game, past Veronica, and sink into the cushion gratefully. Mentally cursing myself for stopping to put on heels earlier, I peel them off and relish in wiggling my toes until the feeling comes back to them. Liam still isn't here. I must be frowning at the door, because a mousey looking guy has spotted me and is making a concerned face.

"What's wrong?" He walks over, tottering a little bit. I doubt he's used to drinking either.

"Oh, just a little tired," I say, hoping to just be left alone. Why did I even come here?

He leans over me, supporting his weight on the back of the chair and propping against one of the arms. It's too hot in here, and having him this close isn't helping. Suddenly, I'm thinking about Aria again. This guy doesn't seem threatening, or even like he could be if he tried, but I still feel like I want to run away.

"Do you want me to walk you home?" He asks, barely keeping his balance against the chair.

"Listen, if you don't give me some space, I'm going to have to pin you to the wall." I meant to sound tough, but my voice just sounds fuzzy and flirty. Either way, even if he thinks I'm being funny, maybe he'll give me some space.