The Mary Shelley Club by Goldy Moldavsky (ebook reader for manga TXT) 📕

slo-mo. First he smiled. Forgot himself. Then, way too late, he’d respond.

Same thing always happened on the field. Nerves made everything slo-mo. Coach had to psych him up pregame to keep him on track.

“So, Driggy,” Lux said. “Rumor has it you still don’t have a date for the winter dance.”

“That’s, like, two months away.”

“A month and a half,” Lux said quickly. “If you don’t ask someone soon, the perfect girl just might get snapped up.”

The girl could multitask. She shared a look with Lucia while still concentrating on Bram’s ear, gently pulling at his lobe. And then her mouth came down on it. Trevor watched, transfixed by the movement of her lips.

The slo-mo caught up with him and Trevor reminded himself that Lux was his best friend’s girl. But her mouth. He caught a glimpse of tongue.

Trevor licked his own lips. But then he noticed that Bram was looking at him. With his girl’s teeth still tugging on his ear, Bram stared. It wasn’t even a mean stare either. It was more of an I get it stare. Lux was hot, and Bram was generous. It’s okay, you can look.

But now Trevor felt sorta dirty. He quickly looked away, his eyes landing instead on Lucia, who caught his gaze eagerly, like she’d been waiting with a net. A good sign. She was obviously interested, but no way was he going to ask her to a dance that was happening a month and a half from now, like a loser—especially in front of all these people.

“This song is dope,” he said instead.

“Yeah,” Lucia said. “I love Chance.”

It was Kendrick, but whatever. The conversation stalled before it could start. When Trevor didn’t know what to do on the field, he looked around for cues. His eyes darted around the room now, searching. Maybe there’d be somebody doing something stupid, somebody he could make fun of to get a laugh out of Lucia.

That’s when he saw it.

“What?” Trevor sat up. There was a red balloon animal on the credenza. A dog standing on its hind legs like it was begging for a treat.

“I said, wanna share?”

“Huh?” He looked at Lucia, who was holding out a cup. Focus, Driggy. He took a swig of her drink. More vodka.

When Trevor looked at the credenza again, the balloon dog was gone. But then Trevor saw something else. He fumbled the cup, nearly dropping it. He blinked once, then again, wondering if he should slow down on the drinking because he was definitely seeing things that weren’t real.

There was a girl standing in the corner of the living room with a red, round clown nose on her face.

“What the hell?”

“Excuse me?” Lucia said.

“Wait here.”

As soon as Trevor got up from the couch, the girl with the red nose turned away. He walked toward her but she walked faster, joining the crowd of people. He shoved through them, pushing people out of his way.

“Hey!” He grabbed the girl’s shoulder and spun her around.

The girl glared at him. Had he seen her before? She was kinda cute with lots of freckles and a pissed-off look on her face. But no red nose.

He was definitely seeing things. It hit him then, who she was. “You tried to kill Lux.”

She began to walk away. “Blow me.”

“How did you get in here?” He grabbed her elbow and noticed that her fingertips were stained red and green.

“Let go of me.” She wrenched out of his grip.

“Get out of my house.”

“Gladly.”

Even after she’d left, the door slamming behind her, Trevor stayed standing in his foyer numbly, still thinking about the red nose and that balloon animal. A familiar knot formed between his shoulder blades, an annoying feeling that he couldn’t shake. He opened the door again to make sure the girl was gone, but then stumbled back when he saw what was waiting on the other side.

A clown. A frizzy blue wig, a painted grin, and his finger hovering over the doorbell. He was even holding balloons. “Birthday gram!” The clown giggled.

“NOPE!” Trevor slammed the door shut. Now he was breathing hard and the only thing he was capable of doing was leaning against the closed door with all of his strength. He tried to catch his breath.

Trevor hated clowns.

When he was seven years old his parents had hired a clown for his birthday party. They’d made Trevor sit on the clown’s lap for pictures. And Trevor had had an accident. Right there on the clown’s lap.

That clown—who smelled of face paint and body odor (Trevor would never forget it)—started cursing like crazy when he felt the wet mess. Trevor had never heard bad words spoken out loud by a grown-up before, and it freaked him out. Not least because the ugly words had come pouring out of a mouth that was red like a gash. The expression on the clown’s face still haunted Trevor, morphing into something monstrous as he picked Trevor up by the armpits, yelling, “He pissed on me!” Trevor shuddered as he pictured the guy’s painted purple eyebrows, his white makeup caked into pitted skin, flaking off in some parts.

But that had been a long time ago, and this was a mistake. He needed to relax, go back to his friends, and chill the hell out.

Back at the couch, Bram and Lux were glued together. His hands to her hips, her hands to his hair. And their lips. Anyone watching might wonder if they were trying to get unstuck or sink into each other. It was kissing quicksand.

Trevor sat down next to Lucia. He was still the Man. Still time to make the Move. “So I was thinking…” He trailed off, but it wasn’t the slo-mo this time. There was music coming from somewhere, fighting the party playlist. It burrowed in his ear like a nasty fly and he couldn’t do or think of anything else until it stopped. He fished his phone out of his pocket, but that wasn’t it.

“Somewhere you have to be?” Lucia asked, her tone light,