shaking her head, deliriously happy. Disingenuous or not, making her happy was worth it.
“I guess you’re off to the graduation party?” Mom asked. “Are you coming home to change?”
I unzipped my gown and handed it to her. “Will you take it home for me?”
She nodded.
But Grandmother wore her trademark scowl. “Really, Eden? You had to wear your ratty sneakers with that beautiful dress?”
I looked down at the ivory fit and then flare dress that Claire had chosen for me. My fingertips brushed against the exposed skin from a daring but not risqué V-neck, down to my skirt, falling in between the strong pleats. “No one could see that I was wearing a beautiful dress.”
Grandmother narrowed her eyes at me. “I’m sure they couldn’t guess, only seeing the graduation gown and the dirty sneakers.”
“Sorry,” I said.
Grandma Lillian hugged Grandmother to her side. “But doesn’t it add just enough individuality? I just love her style.”
Grandmother stood politely still until Lillian released her and then discreetly moved further away.
“Okay”—Mom hooked her arm around my neck and pulled me in for a hug—“I’ll see you later then.”
“Remember when I broke your collarbone when I was four? Before I knew to be easier with you than Dad?” I asked, immediately cursing my failure to filter.
Mom released me, pressing her lips together. “Are you trying to make me cry?”
I winced. “I was trying to make you laugh.”
She chuckled and then wiped beneath her eyes. “Sure, it’s funny now.”
Claire smiled, her eyes invisible behind her oversized dark aviator sunglasses. “It’s still funny.”
Mom shot her a look, and so did Grandma Lillian.
“Okay then,” I said, fidgeting.
“Go,” Dad said. “We’ll see you later.”
“Okay,” I said, waving. “I’ll be with Morgan.”
Bex began to follow me to the Audi.
I pointed at him. “No.”
“What?” Bex asked, his eyebrows shooting up.
“No chaperone tonight,” I said.
“I’ll stay in the car.”
“Didn’t you hear me? Morgan is coming.”
He shrugged. “I’ll follow on the Vulcan.”
I sneered, knowing Bex would love nothing more than to have an excuse to take out Dad’s ancient—or vintage, as he liked to call it—motorcycle. “I’m officially an adult. I don’t want a chaperone.”
Dad frowned. “I think in light of recent events, it’s probably best—”
“Who are we kidding? What could he do that I couldn’t handle?” I asked.
Bex frowned. “Since when does Hell only send one to attack at a time?”
“Still wouldn’t need you.”
Bex’s mouth fell open and then snapped shut. “What did I ever do to you?”
“Enough. Eden, I disagree,” Dad said, his tone final.
“You’ve got to give me some space. If I can’t save myself, how am I supposed to save the world?” I asked.
Dad and Mom traded glances.
Then Mom approached me, tenderly touching my face. “You’re right. Have fun. Be back by sunrise.”
I eyed her, suspicious. “Don’t do that,” I said, pulling away from her. “That’s one of Dad’s old tricks. Don’t tell me you’re going to let me go it alone and then send Bex to babysit me from afar.” I sighed. “I’ve trained every day for the moment when I will have to defend myself. Just … please trust me.”
Mom shook her head, sad. “It’s not about trust, Eden. It’s about responsibility. We love you, and we want you to be safe. We also know what’s at stake.”
I glared at Bex, who seemed surprised at my sudden hostility, and then I trudged to my car.
Morgan was already standing next to it, the excited grin on his face easily erased by my appearance. “Whoa. What happened? Family fight?”
“Kind of.”
I pressed the keyless entry and then opened my door, trying not to yank it out of anger. I’d broken several things in my childhood during a temper tantrum or two.
Morgan slid into the passenger side, reaching for his seat belt. He was reluctant to ask his next question. “Do you want to cancel?”
“Absolutely not,” I said, clicking my own seat belt and pressing the ignition.
Morgan’s mouth didn’t seem to know whether to smile or frown. “Um … okay. So, now what?”
“Now, we do things we shouldn’t.” I turned up the volume on the radio and looked over at my friend. “You ready?”
He shifted in his seat, anxious. “Oh, yeah.”
I gripped the steering wheel and shifted the gear. “One wild night coming up.”
Morgan and I lay on the hood of the Audi, muffled indie rock reverberating through the fiberglass. We were on a dead end road, looking up at the stars while listening to the crickets chirp.
“Sorry,” Morgan said, apologizing for the dozenth time.
“Stop. I like this better anyway. Besides, if