“You didn’t—ow!” He touched his lip and then his new plastic teeth. “You didn’t open the window. You know how long it’s been since you didn’t open the window in my car?”
And I realized that was true. I was fine, even after fifteen minutes in the car. “Is that a problem?”
“No. But it’s weird.”
I nodded and we stood at the top of the driveway, looking at each other. Behind us, someone was shouting the words to the school fight song, high and off-key.
We headed for the open side gate and started around to the back of the house.
The back door opened into a big, brightly lit kitchen, where too many things were shaped or painted like cows.
And there was Tate. Because she was everywhere, creeping in at the edges, getting all tangled up in my life, and she couldn’t leave it alone. She smiled when she saw me, but it was a fierce, triumphant smile, like she’d just beaten me at some kind of game.
She was leaning against the counter between Drew and Danny. She wasn’t wearing a costume either, but she had on this bizarre sort of headband. Two shining stars stuck up from it, swaying back and forth on long stalks. They were raining glitter everywhere.
I took a deep breath and tried to act normal, sliding past her on my way to the refrigerator. I got a can of Natty Light off the shelf on the door and retreated across the kitchen.
Danny was at the sink, knocking around with measuring spoons and bottles, doctoring up some kind of mixed drink. He had on a store-bought skeleton costume with a gray zip-front hoodie over it, like the title character in the movie Donnie Darko. Drew was dressed like Frank the Rabbit of the same film, but his mask was off and lying on the counter.
When he was done adding sloe gin and grenadine, Danny shoved the glass across the counter at Drew. “Try that and tell me what it needs.”
Drew took a sip, then coughed and set the glass down. “That’s awful.”
Danny scowled and tossed a dripping tablespoon at him. “You’re awful. I’m looking for constructive feedback, asshole. What does it need?”
Drew threw the tablespoon back. “It needs to be taken out and shot.”
“Make your own damn drink, Mr. Mixology.”
They punched each other in a friendly way, then Danny slipped the bunny mask over Drew’s head and they started for the living room. As they walked out, Drew reached over and yanked Danny’s hood down over his face.
Roswell had already made a timely exit—probably to see where Stephanie was. I was alone with Tate, not sure whether to start planning my escape because as unappealing as the idea of talking about her dead sister was, I was pretty sure she was just going to follow me, and it might be smarter to get the conversation over with while no one else was around.
