“Shaving cream,” a Star Trek officer noted.
“Gack.”
She was squeezing through two bloody vampires holding fake rats when an arm on her shoulder made her jump.
Jemma snorted. “Freaked out by the rats?”
“People are sick.”
Jemma’s Cleopatra wig shifted as she bobbed her head to the music. “They’re from Pat’s uncle. He’s a taxidermist in Idaho.”
“Yuck!” Jill reached over to adjust Jemma’s wig.
“You should have come as Ol’ Mother Hubbard. I’m fine.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re totally lit. Where have you been?”
“The back room. I decided to live a little tonight.”
“Jemma,” Jill scolded. “You’re not into that stuff.” Her nose picked up the pungent smell of marijuana and patchouli. “Dammit, Jem.”
The heavy touch of black kohl around her friend’s over-bright eyes was smudged. “Pete was here with his new girl. Can you believe it? He’s already seeing someone. I wanted to die before, but now I feel great.”
Jill wrapped her arms around her. “Oh, honey. Where is he? I’ll knock him in the nuts with my staff.”
“That would be awesome, Jillie. He took one look at me and bolted.” She pushed back, weaving in place.
“Better slow down a bit,” Jill said, wrapping a steadying arm around her.
Jemma’s kiss smeared red lipstick over her cheek. “Don’t be upset. You’re my best friend.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she muttered, worry darkening her enjoyment. Damn Pete. Couldn’t he have waited at least a few more months?
Batman entered Lola Parson’s family room, making Jill freeze in place. He was a few inches taller than most of the partygoers. And she’d know that mouth anywhere.
“Brian’s here, Jem.”
“Go outside. I’ll keep him occupied. There’s no reason for both of us to be miserable.” Still unsteady on her feet, Jemma leaned against a beige ottoman, and then sank down into it, closing her eyes. “I’ll get to him in a minute.”
“I’ll watch her, Jill,” someone said from behind her.
As a Robin Hood, Ray Pollack wasn’t much of a dashing swashbuckler. He was too short and gangly for the tights, and way too nice to fight the nasty Sheriff of Nottingham. Being the college’s main marijuana dealer, he didn’t need to be strong. He needed to be smart. And he was—she knew that from the chats they had when he came in for his large soy mochas. Top of his class and pre-law. Jill appreciated the irony. Her grandpa had been pumping her for a name, but she wouldn’t give it. He was crazy to think anything serious was going on. People partied. People puked. It was a chemical reaction.
“Seems like your stuff already did its magic.”
His face fell. “She was upset about Pete. I told her to be sure.”
“Whatever. I’m going outside for some air. Glenda, will you keep an eye on her?” she asked a biology student who was dressed as a nurse.
“Sure, Jill,” she said, plopping down next to Jemma. “Best let her sleep it off. Poor kid. Pete’s an asshole.”
“You said it.” Jill smoothed the black hair from Jemma’s cheek, and then eased her way out onto the back porch.
The wind bit into her legs like a million slivers, but she could stand it for a few minutes. The clean air filled her lungs, dispelling the strong stench from indoors—strong perfumes and aftershaves mixed with beer and various types of smoke, both legal and illegal.
She jumped when a black form materialized next to her, his cape rippling. His amused smile made her want to bean him with her makeshift staff. He just had to follow her out.
Brian pointed to his chest, bending low so their frozen breath mingled in the air. “I’m—”
“Butthole,” she interrupted, depriving him of the famous line.
He rested his hand on his waist, his cape snapping in the wind. “Try another B word.”
“Butt blister.”
His smile deepened. “That’s two words.”
His familiar scent and those mischievous blue eyes had her shivering from more than cold. She snapped her fingers. “Bastard.”
His mask emphasized his frown. “I don’t think Little Bo Peep should talk that way.”
She tried to walk around him, but he kept blocking her.
“I don’t think Batman should harass Little Bo Peep.”
“Batman’s only trying to protect her from the big bad wolf. I think I saw one inside.”
“That’s a werewolf, you dumbass.”
He touched her white-ribbed bodice. “Aren’t you freezing?”