MIA
It was just after eleven when we arrived at the party.
A security guard greeted us at the door and handed each of us a small black sticker. ‘Put this over your camera. No pictures allowed. If anyone catches you breaking the rule, you’re out.’
I didn’t know how the other girls felt about that, but I was relieved. The last thing I needed was photographic evidence of me looking like this on someone’s phone.
I tugged my black cardigan tighter around me as we made our way inside. The party was already in full swing. Music pounded through the space so hard that the glassware in the cabinets behind the massive bar rattled with every beat.
“Isn’t this great?” Zo shouted over the noise.
I was a little tipsy, but not tipsy enough to feel comfortable in the outfit I was wearing.
Zo had an affinity for going out in barely there clothing, which was how I’d ended up in a slinky, metallic-pink slip dress with slits up both sides and a cowl neck that barely clung to my chest. I wasn’t used to wearing so little, and my instinct was to keep the cardigan wrapped tightly around me like armor.
Zo wasn’t having it.
She grabbed my hands and pulled me toward her. “Okay, Mia, it’s showtime. Take it off.”
I shook my head. “I really don’t know about this.”
“Come on.” She gave my arm a dramatic shake. “No one’s gonna recognize you anyway. Not under all that glitter.”
She was probably right.
Zo had doused me in so much glitter, I could blind someone if I walked into direct sunlight. My cheekbones, shoulders, and even my collarbones shimmered under the lights. My hair was pulled into two space buns, and my eyes were winged with metallic-blue eyeliner.
I didn’t look anything like the polished, put-together politician’s daughter the public saw on TV.
And with no cameras allowed…
All right. Screw it.
I shrugged off the cardigan.
Zo snatched it from my hands and clapped like I’d just done something groundbreaking. “There we go. You look amazing.”
Fabi and Nina, who had disappeared a minute ago to grab drinks, appeared with cocktails in hand. The moment they saw me, they whooped their approval.
‘Let’s get this party started,’ Fabi declared, shoving a margarita into my hand.
The dance floor was in the center of the massive living room and already packed.
We wove through the crowd until we found an open spot. The bass was so loud it vibrated through my chest.
I had to admit, this party wasn’t as sloppy as I’d expected. The crowd was our age or older, which explained why it didn’t have the chaotic, beer-soaked energy of a frat house rager.
Fabi caught my eye and smiled, shaking her hips to the beat. She looked lighter than she had all weekend.
Much better than by the pool earlier.
I wanted to talk to her some more about Cosimo. But I also knew she didn’t want to talk about Cosimo. Not tonight.
I understood that.
Nina had grilled me about Romolo on the drive here, digging for details on how our first meeting had gone. I gave her the highlight reel, carefully skimming over the part where he’d almost kissed me.
Because that?
I wasn’t ready to admit that had happened.
The memory made me feel played—like I’d walked into a trap I should have seen coming. It was exactly the kind of move someone like Romolo Ferraro would pull.
He hadn’t meant anything by it. I knew that. He was trying to mess with me. Get under my skin.
So why had I considered—just for a moment—letting him do it?
I really was an idiot. Drawn to him like a moth to a flame, fluttering my wings dangerously close to the heat.
But I didn’t need to give him any real estate in my mind tonight. Fabi wasn’t thinking about Cosimo, so I wasn’t going to think about Romolo.
I just needed to stop overanalyzing everything and—
Zo grabbed my wrist and spun me to the music. I laughed, letting myself relax.
“To the Valais Vixens!” Zo declared, lifting her glass into the middle of our circle.
Nina groaned as we clinked glasses. “When are we going to retire that name?”
“Never!” Zo shouted. “And stop trying to change the group chat name. You know I’ll just change it back.”
I grinned. “It’s part of our lore.”
Nina rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “We came up with that name when we were thirteen. Haven’t we earned something a little more grown-up by now?”
“Growing up is overrated,” Zo declared, throwing back half her cocktail.
“Amen to that,” Fabi said, doing the same.
A crack of thunder echoed through the house, sending a few girls shrieking before they dissolved into laughter.
Nina glanced toward the window. “Sky’s looking rough.”
Dark clouds loomed beyond the glass, thick and heavy, promising a downpour. I vaguely remembered seeing something about a storm in the forecast.
Good thing we were close to Fabi’s mom’s house—a fifteen-minute drive, tops.
“Oh shit.” Zo froze mid-step, the excitement in her expression shifting into something sharper.
“What?” I asked.
“You’re not going to believe who’s here.”
A prickle of unease crawled up my spine.
I turned.
Across the room, a familiar pair of gray eyes locked onto mine.
