Darling - K. Ancrum Page 0,50

to go to public school unless you were a model? Not that Minsu looked like a model; he was entirely too beefy for that. Which, Wendy thought, isn’t actually a drawback.

“Anyway, here’s the rules,” Minsu said. “One: Don’t take any drugs, if anyone gives them to you. You don’t seem like the drug-taking type, but I mean not even a mint or a hit of someone’s vape, because one of my friends did once and it, uh … was not vape juice. Liquid. Crystals. Whatever, just don’t do it.” Minsu was counting on his fingers. “Two: Find a buddy and keep your eyes on them. Charlie is my buddy, right babe?” he asked sweetly.

“Everyday, everyday,” Charles agreed, giving Minsu a solid low five.

“So you gotta find someone else,” Minsu continued. “I recommend Fyodor, but he dances like a scarecrow in a wind tunnel, so you might wanna stay outside his arm-span.”

Fyodor gave Minsu the finger without turning around.

“Rule three? Know all your exits. Basic theater policy. Last year there was a tornado warning, and a bunch of people rushed the same exit and got trampled. It’s clear skies tonight, but anything could happen. Know how to get the fuck out.

“Rule four: Drink water. Always stay hydrated. It’s also a basic life tip, but when you’re dancing and drinking, it’s doubly important.

“Rule five?” Minsu locked his fingers behind his head casually as they strolled into the train station. “Have fun and be yourself. Don’t do anything you wouldn’t want to wake up regretting in the morning.”

“That’s hypocritical, Minsu,” Ominotago teased from behind Wendy.

“These rules are for her, not for me,” Minsu said, smirking as he swiped his card at the turnstile. “I wore handcuffs today. Let me live a little, dang.”

Somehow, Wendy felt a little better after listening to him. Minsu reminded her of Eleanor. In fact, Minsu, Charles, Fyodor, and Ominotago all reminded her much more of people she would have known at school than Tinkerbelle, Curly, or Nibs did. Weirdly enough, also knowing that they all had a specific time they were supposed to be home made her feel way more comfortable. It was strange how quickly being in situations out of your control made you crave parental restrictions. Wendy was fairly sure that if her parents decided to ground her for a whole month, she wouldn’t care at all because at this point it would feel like a vacation.

Tinkerbelle swiped her card twice so Wendy could get through the turnstile and pressed close behind her on the escalator up to the train platform. “You’re doing great,” she whispered. “Just stay nearby.”

Wendy reached down and took the hand that Ominotago wasn’t holding. Tinkerbelle looked surprised, her big blue eyes widening, but she squeezed Wendy’s hand reassuringly.

“Stop,” Ominotago murmured. Wendy dropped Tinkerbelle’s hand like it burned. Ominotago shook her head almost imperceptivity and spoke so quietly that Wendy had to strain to hear. “We’ll look like we’re in cahoots. He’s always watching.”

Before she could control herself, Wendy turned to look at Peter, who was indeed watching them from the top of the escalator, nearly fifteen feet away. He had the same expression on his face when Wendy had been reciting poetry at the dinner table.

“Hurry up, lovebirds,” he said with false cheer. “The train isn’t going to wait forever.”

Wendy, Ominotago, and Tinkerbelle scampered up the last few escalator steps and in through the train doors. Charles had been holding them open with his body. He stepped inside behind them, with Peter at his back.

The train car was way emptier at 11:45 p.m. than it was earlier. There were only three other people riding with them: an elderly woman with one of those foldable grocery carts, crammed tightly with bags; a sleeping homeless man at the far end of the car; and another younger man in a hoodie, who seemed close to college age and with headphones on, his eyes closed.

Charles and Minsu were seated next to each other by the door, Tinkerbelle and Ominotago across from them. Curly and Nibs each took a whole two seats to themselves, spreading their legs over the chairs rudely. Wendy joined Fyodor in holding on to the pole next to the door near Tinkerbelle. Peter stood in the middle of the aisle and held the metal bars on the back of Curly’s and Nibs’s seats, one in each hand. From where he was standing, he could see everyone in the train car, except for the homeless man sleeping behind him.

Nibs said something low to