from
seemingly nowhere. I whip my head around—how can she see me? And probably the
least helpful thought pops up: She’d be
an awesome spy.
“Emma!” Daisy shouts, using my character name to avoid
attracting the wrong gazes. Thank you,
Daisy.
I finally spot her…and she’s sticking out of the crowd by a
Cider Rose Comics booth—the indies where Lo would’ve put Halway if he wanted to
promote. He didn’t, and his father cut into him for that one.
“Is my little sister floating above people?” What the …I tilt my head. Her legs are as
high as the heads. Is she standing on a table?
Oh.
No.
She’s on someone’s shoulders.
“Come on,” Lo says, quickening his pace.
Daisy’s short, bright orange wig molds her face. She wears a
cropped white shirt and gold spandex. The giveaway of her costume happens to be
orange foam suspenders that go beneath her crotch like a thong. I couldn’t pull
off Leeloo from The Fifth Element with
the same vigor as Daisy.
We reach the line of indie booths, and I expect my sister to
be on some stranger’s body. She’s way too trusting. The opposite of me, I
realize.
I was wrong though.
She’son Ryke’s shoulders. Standing. Not sitting.
His hands clutch her calves so firmly that I doubt she can
even shift an inch. He has on the same Green Arrow outfit from last year’s
Halloween—oh my God, he shaved. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Ryke completely
shaven.
He looks more like Lo. I don’t like it one bit.
“Hey, guys,” Daisy says with a bright, beaming smile. She
playfully twirls her plastic gun and aims it at no one in particular. “Have you
seen any aliens that I need to kill?”
“Yeah,” Lo says, “Connor should be around here somewhere
with your sister.”
I nudge Lo in the side. “Batman and Catwoman aren’t aliens.”
Lo tilts his head at me. “But Connor Cobalt and Rose
Calloway might as well be.”
I cover his lips, but it’s too late. Those names have
already drifted in the air and penetrated a few ears. I grimace. Penetrated.
Ears. Ew… bad one.
“Fine, only Connor Cobalt then,” he mumbles through my palm.
“Don’t say ‘you know whose’ name.” I drop my hand.
His brows harden. “Voldemort.”
I punch him in the arm. Though I fell into that Harry Potter reference-trap too easily.
He mock winces. “Ow.”
I take a deep breath and glance at my little sister. She now
sits on Ryke’s shoulders. He grabs her by the waist and lifts her off his body,
dropping her on her feet—a lot less carefully than Lo usually does to me.
She lands perfectly fine, thankfully.
“She’s a girl,” Lo tells Ryke, motioning to Daisy who twirls
her gun and searches the area for our older sisters.
“I didn’t notice,” Ryke says with thick sarcasm.
“Just don’t be rough with her,” Lo tells him, less
defensively. He’s trying not to jump down his brother’s throat about Daisy.
“If she can’t handle me, then I wouldn’t have let her on my
shoulders.”
“I can’t handle you, but you still hang around me. What do
you call that?” Lo asks.
“Tough love.”
Lo nods a few times, and that conversation is cut off by
loud bickering.
“You can’t just take my whip, Richard,” she says. “It’s part
of my costume. You’re breaking the convention’s protocol.”
“And you’re making up rules. Are the fictional costume
police going to jail me in their invisible prison?”
“Ugh! You are so…” She growls. They come into view, only
about ten feet away. Rose stands with her hands perched on her hips, her black
leather pants and leather jacket just as badass as her Catwoman eye-mask and
ears. Her hair is sleeked back into a pony. Even in her stiletto boots, Connor
stands four inches above her, appearing to have an advantage.
Batman and Catwoman are flirt-fighting.
The fangirl inside of me is singing right now.
“You love me,” Connor tells her, still holding her black
whip, the source of their argument.
“The more you
seemingly nowhere. I whip my head around—how can she see me? And probably the
least helpful thought pops up: She’d be
an awesome spy.
“Emma!” Daisy shouts, using my character name to avoid
attracting the wrong gazes. Thank you,
Daisy.
I finally spot her…and she’s sticking out of the crowd by a
Cider Rose Comics booth—the indies where Lo would’ve put Halway if he wanted to
promote. He didn’t, and his father cut into him for that one.
“Is my little sister floating above people?” What the …I tilt my head. Her legs are as
high as the heads. Is she standing on a table?
Oh.
No.
She’s on someone’s shoulders.
“Come on,” Lo says, quickening his pace.
Daisy’s short, bright orange wig molds her face. She wears a
cropped white shirt and gold spandex. The giveaway of her costume happens to be
orange foam suspenders that go beneath her crotch like a thong. I couldn’t pull
off Leeloo from The Fifth Element with
the same vigor as Daisy.
We reach the line of indie booths, and I expect my sister to
be on some stranger’s body. She’s way too trusting. The opposite of me, I
realize.
I was wrong though.
She’son Ryke’s shoulders. Standing. Not sitting.
His hands clutch her calves so firmly that I doubt she can
even shift an inch. He has on the same Green Arrow outfit from last year’s
Halloween—oh my God, he shaved. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Ryke completely
shaven.
He looks more like Lo. I don’t like it one bit.
“Hey, guys,” Daisy says with a bright, beaming smile. She
playfully twirls her plastic gun and aims it at no one in particular. “Have you
seen any aliens that I need to kill?”
“Yeah,” Lo says, “Connor should be around here somewhere
with your sister.”
I nudge Lo in the side. “Batman and Catwoman aren’t aliens.”
Lo tilts his head at me. “But Connor Cobalt and Rose
Calloway might as well be.”
I cover his lips, but it’s too late. Those names have
already drifted in the air and penetrated a few ears. I grimace. Penetrated.
Ears. Ew… bad one.
“Fine, only Connor Cobalt then,” he mumbles through my palm.
“Don’t say ‘you know whose’ name.” I drop my hand.
His brows harden. “Voldemort.”
I punch him in the arm. Though I fell into that Harry Potter reference-trap too easily.
He mock winces. “Ow.”
I take a deep breath and glance at my little sister. She now
sits on Ryke’s shoulders. He grabs her by the waist and lifts her off his body,
dropping her on her feet—a lot less carefully than Lo usually does to me.
She lands perfectly fine, thankfully.
“She’s a girl,” Lo tells Ryke, motioning to Daisy who twirls
her gun and searches the area for our older sisters.
“I didn’t notice,” Ryke says with thick sarcasm.
“Just don’t be rough with her,” Lo tells him, less
defensively. He’s trying not to jump down his brother’s throat about Daisy.
“If she can’t handle me, then I wouldn’t have let her on my
shoulders.”
“I can’t handle you, but you still hang around me. What do
you call that?” Lo asks.
“Tough love.”
Lo nods a few times, and that conversation is cut off by
loud bickering.
“You can’t just take my whip, Richard,” she says. “It’s part
of my costume. You’re breaking the convention’s protocol.”
“And you’re making up rules. Are the fictional costume
police going to jail me in their invisible prison?”
“Ugh! You are so…” She growls. They come into view, only
about ten feet away. Rose stands with her hands perched on her hips, her black
leather pants and leather jacket just as badass as her Catwoman eye-mask and
ears. Her hair is sleeked back into a pony. Even in her stiletto boots, Connor
stands four inches above her, appearing to have an advantage.
Batman and Catwoman are flirt-fighting.
The fangirl inside of me is singing right now.
“You love me,” Connor tells her, still holding her black
whip, the source of their argument.
“The more you