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

how different I felt now compared to when I had first walked into this place, with my anxiety threatening to stifle me. Dancing with Saundra had taken my mind off things, allowed my thoughts to go blank, but dancing with Freddie—his uncoordinated jerking moves and carefree bobbing—made me want to stay in the moment.

I watched the way the strobe lights set the edge of Freddie’s jaw ablaze with silver, could see the tip of his tongue as he parted his lips because the dancing was making him pant. I studied a bead of sweat forming above his top lip until it spilled over his Cupid’s bow and disappeared into his smile.

The crowd made us occasionally bump into each other. His hip against mine, my elbow in his side. But I couldn’t blame the others for the way my fingers reached for him. Clutching the stripes of his sweater. Grazing the belt loops of his pants. They were tiny touches of torture. A tease—a taste of what I wanted when I was dying of hunger.

“We probably shouldn’t be dancing,” I said, swallowing. “Fraternization rules.”

“You’re right.” Freddie took my hand and led me away.

I’d found a quiet corner in this warehouse after all. My back was against the polished concrete wall and Freddie was against me, fraternization rules shattered. I gripped the back of his neck, my fingertips tangling in his hair. I guess he did like my kissing style, because his mouth lingered on mine, careful and urgent. I nipped his lips with my teeth. With my eyes closed, there was nothing but the feel of him and the muted, pulsing bass.

Making out with Freddie was like watching the best scary movie. Every nerve ending felt raw, exposed; my stomach flipped, shaky. He was both the thing seizing my heart and the air all at once. I put my palms against his chest and pushed him just far enough for me to catch my breath. I could feel Freddie’s chest expanding beneath my touch.

“What happened to the unofficial no fraternization rule?” I said.

“‘Unofficial’ being the operative word.” Freddie brought his index finger to my bottom lip, like even if he wasn’t kissing it he still needed access. “And anyway, everyone breaks rules at parties. It’s all about crossing social divides.”

“And what social divides are we crossing?”

Freddie tilted his head from side to side, thinking. “The somewhat geeky but inherently suave guy dances with the mysterious, beautiful new girl.”

I could feel a tingling in my cheeks. “Mysterious?”

Freddie leaned in again. “Not the operative word.”

I would never again resist when Saundra suggested we go out. I would stay here all night.

But then a gaggle of wannabe film directors rushed toward us, all flanking Freddie. He tried to catch my eye over their heads but Scorsese (the costume was mostly eyebrows), Tarantino (chin), and Spielberg (Jaws shirt) all grabbed hold and more or less lifted him off the ground. Tisch Boys liked to go hard-core.

“We’re going to finish this conversation later!” Freddie called, but the directors had already dragged him a significant distance, and he was too far now to hear my answer.

I grinned as I waved him off and began searching for Saundra. Maybe because I was actually enjoying myself for once, the universe chose to knock me down a peg. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw an actual ghoul coming my way.

Lux was dressed as some sort of sexy farm animal. Given the height of the ears on her headband, she could’ve been anything from a bunny to a jackass. It was anybody’s guess. She approached like an unexpected gust of wind, ready to blow my candle out. I was as good as fizzle and smoke.

Lux flicked the bill of my red cap. “Trying to make Halloween great again?”

She was lucky there weren’t any scissors within reach.

“You know, I almost forgot about you, freak. But then I remembered how much I hated you when I saw you sneaking around my boyfriend’s house. So I did more research.” She paused dramatically, savoring my reaction.

“We know Matthew Marshall is dead,” she said, counting this point off on her finger. “And we know you’re obsessed with him because you go instantly psycho at the mention of his name.” She ticked this off on another finger. “But the details of his death are what’s really interesting.”

“Stop.” I said, even though I knew my distress was her ammo, the lighter fluid to her raging flames.

“No,” she said. “We’re just getting to the good part. He was stabbed to death.”

She would never stop. I understood that now.

“Did Bram tell you?” I blurted out.

Something in Lux changed, a minuscule flicker that made her go rigid.

“What does Bram have to do with this? You two have talked about this?”

I didn’t know what she was playing at. What she and Bram were possibly playing at, but I didn’t have to stay to hear it.

I turned to leave but Lux’s viselike grip dug into my elbow. “Stay away from my boyfriend.”

It wasn’t clear if Lux knew everything, but she knew enough to concoct an epic rumor. And if she was worried about me and her boyfriend, I could count on it being the kind of rumor that would destroy me.

I yanked my elbow back, my walk turning into a brisk run. The claustrophobia was back, worse than before. There were too many bodies in my way. Ghosts and athletes and sexpot puppies, all gyrating to the music. I weaved around them but still bumped into most. I’d been in this world a minute ago and now nothing felt more incongruous than this party.

But then I stopped, frozen in place by what I saw. Amongst all the costumed partiers there was someone else. Another person in a costume but not like anyone else’s. He was just standing there, watching me. All in black, and wearing a mask.

The same white mask from my nightmares.

The one from my past.

No. I was seeing things. It was my fear, my anxiety, my mind