‘What’s that?’ Emma asked, flitting out of Brandon’s grasp as he tried to lick her neck.
‘It’s the smaller tent where we dress and warm up for shows,’ Francis replied. He rolled his eyes as he saw Emma and Brandon exchange a slobbery kiss. I smiled to myself, liking him already.
Avery jabbed my ribs every time he saw something interesting. I was in danger of being permanently bruised by my Neanderthal friend before we reached the party. Just as I started to give him a good shove into the nearby fence, a sharp pain in my wrist brought me up short. I pulled up my sleeve and rubbed at the tattoo. Why was it hurting again? Avery caught sight of the inked design, and his mouth dropped open.
‘Man, you’ve been holding back on me!’ He twisted my arm to see. ‘When did’ya get the new body art?’
‘A couple of days ago. My brother finally gave in.’ I yanked my arm back when I saw the look on his face. ‘Yeah, I know, it’s a flower. But it wasn’t my choice. Hugo did it.’
‘Wouldn’t have been my choice either,’ Avery said, sounding almost sympathetic. ‘But actually, it’s not that bad. I mean, that’s some serious detail work!’
‘It’s no big deal.’ I shoved my sleeve back down.
‘So it’s like a theme then, huh?’ Avery’s eyes darted to my hood. ‘The new hair, the tattoo. Gotta look the part, right?’
‘The part?’
‘Yeah, the whole tattoo artist apprentice thing. Didn’t you say your brother’s gonna start training you?’
I half laughed. ‘Oh yeah. I’m not letting him out of it this time.’
No matter what he throws at me, I thought.
My wrist flared with pain again, and I pressed my fingers against it. Avery shot me a curious look, but didn’t say anything else. We hurried to catch up with the others. Francis took us around the Big Tent to another just behind it, half the size of the first.
‘Here we are,’ he announced, peeling back the canvas flap. ‘Come on in.’
It was nearly dark outside, but the Holding Tent was illuminated with lights. They were everywhere: hanging from the tent supports, running along the walls, and lining the tables. Inside, it looked like a quarter of the senior class had turned up for the party.
I scanned the crowd warily, suddenly feeling a bizarre need to memorize every person in the room. I zoned in on a couple of football players scratching their names into the canvas wall of the tent with a knife, their bodies hunched to hide their actions. I narrowed my eyes, feeling a strange burst of anger underneath my sternum.
I breathed in through my nose and let it out through my mouth. The anger was still there. I closed my eyes, jostled by the fierce heat of emotion. Where was it coming from? The sensation was beginning to scare me, and I bit down on my lip, commanding my body to relax. Gradually, my muscles eased, and the emotion dissipated.
‘Sebastian,’ said Avery, punching my arm. ‘You coming or not?’
I shook myself off and nodded, stepping through the opening.
‘Ah-ouch,’ I gasped suddenly.
Avery stared at me. ‘What?’
The tattoo was burning, worse than before, like slices of hot metal in my skin. I clenched my fist and shook out my arm. ‘Artwork’s still a little tender, I guess.’
Avery studied me for a moment, then hoisted his present under his arm. ‘Well, time to schmooze with the birthday girl.’ He pointed and winked.
Josephine Romany sat in the middle of a group of people on a red, circular couch. Avery rushed forward, diving comically into the cushions and causing general bedlam. I forgot about my wrist as I looked at Josephine. She’d changed for the party, wearing an emerald dress that matched her eyes. Her hair was clipped back with a silver butterfly, and jewelry sparkled at her neck, ears, and wrists.
Avery flirted with the female attendees, his long legs sprawled out in some girl’s lap. I felt a twinge of envy: Avery never had awkward moments. ‘Get over here,’ he called to me. ‘You’re missing all the fun.’
I waved, but there was no way I was joining them. Talk about awkward. I retreated to a large table cluttered with expensively packaged gifts. I unzipped my jacket and retrieved the brown bag, trying to camouflage it in the pile, but it stood out against the colorful array. I reached out to swipe it back.
‘This is so freaking awesome,’ said Brandon, leaning over my shoulder to check out the gifts.
I backed away, leaving mine. ‘There’s a lot of people here.’
Brandon smirked. ‘Well, it is a party.’
‘So people keep telling me.’
I scanned the crowd again, watching the movements and body language of everyone around me like I was working security. It felt weird, but I couldn’t seem to refocus my attention.
Emma stopped playing with Brandon’s hair and frowned at me. ‘Whoa, you don’t look so good, Sebastian.’
Sweat trickled down my neck. ‘It’s just hot in here,’ I replied, pushing my fingers against my stinging wrist. My skin was on fire.
A man and a woman wafted through the entrance, flanked by a large group of people: the Circe de Romany troupe. Their eccentric clothing, hair, and make-up suddenly made the rest of the party seem dull. I leaned against the table and tried to focus on the new arrivals rather than the uncomfortably rising temperature.
‘Welcome, everyone,’ said the man. ‘I’m Nicolas Romany, and this is my wife Sabina. We want to thank you for coming to Josephine and Francis’s birthday party. Sixes has become one of our favorite touring locations, and we’re glad to be back.’
Spontaneous applause erupted through the tent. Sabina Romany stepped forward. She looked like an older version of her daughter. ‘We’d like to invite you to enjoy some early carnival fun. We’ve set up a few rides and booths, just for tonight. Francis, why don’t you show our guests the way?’
In a rush, kids were flooding out of the tent flap, with Francis in the lead and Avery on his heels.
‘Let’s go check out the games,’ said Brandon, slapping me on the back.
‘I’ll be there in a minute.’
He shrugged and looped his arm over Emma’s shoulders, following the crowd outside. My eyes fixed on Josephine. She was sitting alone on the couch. At the sight of her, the jellified feeling returned. I was burning up, but I didn’t know if it was from the heat or my nerves.
Okay, Sebastian. You can do this. Just walk over there and talk to her.
I wiped my face, stepped forward, then instantly backpedaled. A man had broken away from the lingering Circe group and was approaching the couch. He was lean and tall, and probably in his early twenties, though it was difficult to tell; his deep set eyes and angular face made him seem older. His hair was like black ink, perfectly styled, and his clothes were the well-tailored kind. All in all, he looked like he’d just stepped off a red carpet. He leaned down and planted a kiss on Josephine’s glossy lips.
I felt like I’d swallowed a bucket of ice water.
‘Josie, I have something for you,’ he said in a voice out of a jewelry commercial.
Her eyes lit up. ‘What is it?’
Of course, she had a boyfriend. A girl like that couldn’t be single. The scorch of disappointment burned hotter than my feverish temperature. I knew I needed to turn away, but my body refused to move. I watched