The Museum of Heartbreak - Meg Leder Page 0,20

envying the fact that he already had a costume, though whether it actually qualified as a costume was debatable. He was dressed in all black—black jeans, black knit hat, black boots, long-sleeved black T-shirt, black thermal on top of it.

“I’m the dark night of the soul. Or a black hole. Or something like that,” he’d said when I’d asked him earlier.

“You’re copping out,” I said.

“How is being in more than one costume copping out? I’m actually so invested in this, I am in an infinite number of costumes. It’s meta and crap.”

I rolled my eyes and resumed scanning the Internet for costume ideas.

That was an hour and a half earlier, when I’d still had five and a half hours to create the perfect costume, the one that would get Keats to notice me at his party. Now it was seeming like there might be another black hole wandering around with Eph.

“I’m so, so glad you guys are coming,” Audrey called out from under the noise of the blow dryer across the hall. “I told Cherisse she should get Keats to invite you. I’m so glad she did!”

I was willing to bet the gold charm bracelet my grandma gave me—my number one thing to grab in a fire after my parents and Ford the Cat—that Cherisse had not talked to Keats on our behalf. Divine intervention from Zeus or Thor or Buddha or the patron saint of single, unkissed sixteen-year-old girls seemed more likely.

“I think it’s great you guys can hang out with Cherisse more . . . ,” Audrey continued.

Eph pointed at himself and in a low voice said, “Tall. Handsome. Hottie. Right here.”

I tried to smile, but it came out all grimacey. I had no costume.

“Your neck is getting all red and splotchy again.”

“Telling me that doesn’t help anything.” I rubbed at my neck.

“Audrey, Pen is panicking.” He flipped lazily through his book.

“I’m not panicking!”

Audrey’s voice was calm but forceful from across the hall. “Pen, stop panicking. You’re not going to think of anything if you’re running around like a rooster with its head cut off.”

“Chicken,” Eph and I both said simultaneously.

I flopped down on the bed next to him, hoping that if I rubbed my forehead hard enough, the magic idea would simply arise.

“Eph, what am I going to be?”

“High School Junior.”

“Eph,” I said.

“Girl Without a Costume?”

“Eph,” I repeated more insistently.

He sighed, put his comic book down, and propped his elbow up, head on his hand, and studied me. I saw a stray eyelash on his cheek, Orion’s belt across the bridge of his nose.

“If you give me one more bad suggestion, I’m going to sic Ford on you.”

“That cat hates me.” He frowned, contemplating Ford’s inexplicable disdain for and fury toward him, before resuming. “No, what I wanted to say was fuck them. If anyone gives you a hard time? Fuck them. We’ll leave, okay?”

That wasn’t what I was expecting.

I stared at his face until it blurred, everything behind him sharpening: the glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling, the white Christmas lights I had strung around the edge of the room.

“Whoa,” said Audrey when she saw Eph leaning so close over me.

I scrambled guiltily up, even though there was nothing to be guilty about, and in the process knocked my skull squarely into Eph’s nose.

“Ow, fuck!” he yelled, falling back and covering his face with both hands.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I’m so, so, sorry!”

“Why do you keep trying to kill me?” he moaned from behind his palms. “You already broke my nose once.”

“God, it was fourth grade! Besides, you instigated that one,” I couldn’t resist reminding him, thinking back to how he lifted my skirt in front of half the class.

Eph pushed himself up, still cradling his nose, and Audrey leaned down and pulled away his hands.

“You’re not bleeding, so that’s good.”

The bridge of his nose was a little red, but aside from the cranky expression on his face, he seemed pretty much unharmed.

“Eph, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to . . .” I hid my head in my hands. “You know, this whole evening is a mistake. I don’t know what to wear; I hate parties; I nearly killed Eph. We should have gone to Coney Island.”

“Too late,” Eph said. “Besides, I only saw stars for like four seconds. It’s probably only a minor concussion.”

“Wait, what’d you say?” Audrey asked him.

“Only a minor concussion?”

“No, before that.”

“It was an accident, I only saw stars—”

“That’s it!” Audrey yelled.

Eph and I flinched.

“Pen, does your mom still put those little gold