Camden sat down beside me and put his arm around me, then a few seconds later, he took it away. I looked at him and he whispered, “We shouldn’t block anyone’s view.”
The host of the contest was a local cosplay celebrity known as RedSmoke. (The term local cosplay celebrity came from Eliza.) She stood tall on the stage in black high heels, silver lamé minidress, and a completely shaved head.
“Hello, all you fabulous freaks!” she called. The room erupted in cheers. “Are you ready to blow us away?”
More whoops and hoots and hollers. A chill pushed through me. I hadn’t planned on getting excited about this, but the excitement got me.
RedSmoke called up the contestants in the Individual category. They paraded one by one across the stage. There were superheroes and warriors, creatures and characters. Time periods and competing realities intersected and exploded. The crowd went nuts for each one.
It was the closest thing to pure shared joy I’d ever experienced.
By the time RedSmoke announced the Group category, I’d almost forgotten that I had to go up there, too.
“Ready?” asked Camden close in my ear.
I mentally reviewed everything Eliza had laid out for us. She had a whole Atticus Marr pantomime planned. She was supposed to run up, pretend she saw some huge threatening creature, draw her weapon, then beckon to the rest of us. We’d rush into formation behind her, staring out at the crowd with approximations of the expressions our characters were best known for.
After a group dressed as gaming characters left the stage, RedSmoke said, “Next up in the Groups, we have Temporal Anomaly!”
Which was us. Eliza led the way up the steps to the stage and started to do her bit. When it was time to fall into position, I paused. The reality of being on stage in my Satina costume felt suddenly huge, insurmountable. Camden stepped away from me, then glanced back and saw my hesitation.
“Come on,” he said, with that mischievous smile, offering his hand. I took it.
As soon as I did, the applause from the crowd swelled louder.
“Azor! Kiss Satina!” someone shouted.
Camden stared out at the audience for a second, then gave me a questioning look. I nodded imperceptibly, on impulse. He pulled me to him and we kissed. For the first time ever, it didn’t feel right. Who was I even kissing? The applause rained down around us.
When we pulled apart, the first thing I saw was Eliza glaring at me.
I didn’t look at her again until later, after the reboot group and several others went up, already acting defeated, their efforts halfhearted in our wake.
It was only when RedSmoke announced Temporal Anomaly as the first prize group cosplay winners that I dared to glance at Eliza again.
“Wow,” I said to Max as we let Eliza lead the way to the stage to retrieve our trophy. “Is that what she looks like when she’s truly happy?”
“I wouldn’t know for sure,” he said. “Take a picture before it goes away.”
Camden reached out for my hand and I took it, but I let it go as soon as we were on our way to our seats.
19
I’ll admit this: when we walked into the Tri-State SuperCon Dinner and Dance with our trophy, it felt like the whole party was for us. It was almost a wedding reception receiving line, the gauntlet of people we had to move through. There were claps and cheers and unexpected, slightly creepy pats on the back. I smiled and said Hey, thanks all the way down.
At some point, Camden took my hand again, but I didn’t notice right away. It felt like part of our costumes now, that we had to be connected. We were no longer us but rather, the Azor and Satina who’d finally hooked up and defied every rule of the Silver Arrow universe.
I couldn’t wait to get out of my Satina costume. The fabric on my skin felt heavy and old; the weight of the wig pulled me unnaturally to one side.
What had changed? Maybe there was a border between doing the cosplay for myself and doing it for someone else. Or in this case, a lot of someone elses. I’d crossed it.
Once we got through the cluster of people at the entrance to the party, I took a deep breath and let go of Camden’s hand. He took a step away from me, as if he’d been wanting the break, too, and in seconds he was gone from sight.
And it was okay.
I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see Kendall, her eyes red, eyelashes crooked with dried tears.
“Where did you go?” I asked.
“I bought a book,” she said, holding up a tattered paperback. “I found a table in some unused conference room and sat there and read.”
“God, Kendall. You win for having the crappiest time here,” I said.
“It was peaceful, actually. And I overheard some fascinating conversations through the doorway.”
My best friend. She was an expert at making awful situations into something not-so-awful. I guess she had no choice.