Trick Me Twice - Becca Steele Page 0,8
remain incognito if I ran into Carter and his friends—or anyone from Alstone High, for that matter. I was banking on the fact that other local schools were attending, and no one would imagine that I would show up. Plus, the whole idea of me attending the event was to push me out of my comfort zone, and this was most definitely set to do that.
The mascara I’d applied somehow made my lashes look long and lustrous, framing my hazel eyes and making them appear bigger and more intense, and the toner I’d put in my hair earlier had made it look darker, richer, redder, rather than the usual light brown. Supposedly the toner washed out easily—I hoped so anyway. I didn’t want anyone to see me like this at school on Monday. Shaking my hair free of its ponytail, I picked up my curling wand, and half an hour later it hung in soft curls down my back. After slipping on the green fabric mask that covered my eyes, I was ready.
The Uber that I’d splashed out on roared away, and I turned my attention to the huge wrought-iron gates leading into the two-hundred-acre space of greenery and sports facilities that made up Parton Park, where Fright Night was already underway. I stopped dead outside the gates, taking it all in. Rides and stalls in bright neon colours were set up in large clusters throughout the grassy open area that was normally used for casual sports games and summer picnics. A large Ferris wheel stood tall at the near end, and at the far end where the grassy area ended, before the skatepark area began, stood a haunted house, the entrance a huge, sinister-looking gaping mouth. Sweeping lights illuminated the huge space, and thumping music boomed from speakers all around us. A steady stream of people moved in through the gates, and the scent of popcorn and candy floss hung heavy in the air.
Despite myself, a smile tugged at my lips. Maybe this was going to be fun, after all.
I spotted Lena, aka Harley Quinn, near the gates, loitering by a shooting stall where you could win a prize if you managed to shoot a set of moving targets. Looking as edgy and gorgeous as she always did, she was watching a guy dressed as Captain America take shots at the targets over and over again, each time coming close but missing. Every now and then, he’d glance over at her with a flirty wink, but she remained impassive.
After having my ticket scanned at the gate by a guy dressed as a skeleton, the bones made from some kind of glow-in-the-dark material, I made a beeline for the shooting stall. Sidling up to Lena, I spoke in her ear. “Got your eye on Captain America?”
“No way.” She snorted, still staring at him. “I’m counting how much money he’s putting into that game. So far he’s paid twenty-five quid and hasn’t managed to hit any of the targets yet.”
“I’m sure those games are rigged,” I mused.
“Probably.” She turned to me, and her jaw dropped. “Fucking hell, Laurent! You don’t even look like you!”
“That’s the point.” I couldn’t help smiling at her reaction, even as I shuffled awkwardly from foot to foot.
“You look fucking hot. Stop fidgeting.”
“I can’t help it, I feel weird,” I admitted. “I’m not used to this. Any of this.”
Her blue gaze assessed me, and she nodded. “I get that. I know it’s hard for you.”
“How are you so confident?” Maybe she had some tips.
“Honestly? I literally don’t give a fuck what any of these people think of me. You should try it sometime. It’s liberating.”
“I wish I could.” I sighed. “Remember, you’re school royalty, though. You’re a Drummond. Not only that, you’re badass.”
“I am,” she agreed with a smirk, propping her hand on her elbow and posing with her baseball bat, before she laughed and rolled her eyes. “Not really. I just don’t care what people think. Wanna play one of the games before we meet up with the others?”
“Yeah.” I smiled, relaxing at her words, grateful she was easing me into tonight’s celebrations. I had so much trouble letting anyone get close to me, but I wanted to let Lena in. I needed a friend. Someone to confide in, to be myself with.
“I never lose at these.” She tugged me across to the hook-a-duck stall, waving to a couple of her friends that were standing nearby drinking bright blue slushies. I recognised them from my Economics