Fated

she says, shaking her head when I glance toward Lita and confirm that she is, along with a trashy white wedding dress that’s short, low-cut, and at least one size too small. “It’s her way of honoring Marilyn, while trying to commune with her spirit, and I can never decide if it’s morbid, creepy, pathetic, or all three.”
    I watch as Lita makes her way toward us. Her Marilyn mask offset by a blond wig that’s spent a lot of time with a curling iron.
    “I think she’s pretty serious about hanging out,” Xotichl says. “Question is—what are you going to do about it?”
    “I’m going to get serious about hanging out with her too,” I reply, not bothering to explain that I’m less interested in making meaningless chitchat and more interested in locating Cade. If anyone knows where he is, it’s Lita. She never lets him out of her sight for too long.
    Lita stands before us with her friends just behind her. All of them giving me a thorough once-over, struggling to say something nice when it’s pretty clear I’m not looking my best. “Cool mask—and nice boots,” she finally says. “Not really a costume, but still cool.”
    And though I’m tempted to laugh, remembering the scene my boots inspired in the bathroom when I was a lowly cockroach cowering in the corner, eavesdropping on them—I decide to thank her instead.
    “I don’t think you’ve met everyone,” Lita says, going into full-on hostess mode. “This is Jacy…” She points to a girl wearing a skull mask bearing the same flaming pink lips she favors in real life, and a sexy bunny suit. “And this is Crickett…” She gestures toward the girl with the best blond highlights of the bunch, whose mask pretty much mirrors Jacy’s except the lips are more red than pink, and her costume is that of a naughty French maid. Then turning to Xotichl, she says, “When’s Epitaph playing?” Making me wonder if she might be sincere after all.
    “They’re up next,” Xotichl says, the news prompting so much excitement and chatter between Lita and company, you’d think the news was way more fascinating than it is.
    But even though I nod and laugh when I’m supposed to, I’m not really present—not really paying attention. I’m too busy searching for Cade, knowing I need to make a quick exit, find a way to lose them, so I can seek him.
    “Who are you looking for?” Lita’s eyes flash from behind her mask.
    I shrug in response, but the way she tilts her head and folds her arms across her bridal dress, it’s clear she’s not fooled for a second.
    “I see the way he looks at you,” she says, her tone even, the words unmistakably accusatory.
    I swallow hard, shake my head, and say, “Who?” Hoping it sounded more convincing to her than it did to me.
    “Please.” She scoffs. “I may not be all hip and Hollywood like you—I may come from a tiny, little dump of a town—but I’m not stupid. I know when a girl’s after my guy. And I know when my guy’s intrigued by a girl.”
    I stand before her, realizing she’s done such a good job of convincing herself, I’m not sure I can make her think otherwise.
    “I get it, okay? I really do. He’s hot. He’s the hottest guy here—the hottest guy anywhere. He’s even hotter than Vane Wick—and don’t even pretend you haven’t noticed. But as it just so happens, he’s taken. And while I’m sincere about us being friends, I gotta warn you, Daire, if you decide to go after him, despite what I’ve told you—well, you should know right now that it won’t end well for you.”
    I picture him snacking on slimy, bloodied bits, enjoying it so much he licked the remains right off his fingertips, and I can’t help but feel sorry for her. As far as creeps go, Cade’s reached the pinnacle. But knowing she wouldn’t believe me if I told her, I say, “Duly noted.”
    She nods, the move curt, dismissive, lifting her mask onto her wig so I can see that she’s serious when she adds, “I know you don’t really trust me. I know you’re suspicious of why I’m suddenly acting so friendly. But the thing is, we don’t get many newcomers in Enchantment, much less Milagro. I’ve known most of these people my whole life, and, because of it, I guess I’m not so great at adapting to change.” She lifts her shoulders, causing her dress to strain at the seams. “So when you showed up with your cool boots and don’t-give-a-crap attitude—well, you seemed like the kind of girl who could easily