yowza i haven't touched this in 2 years

Weeks went by, and as much as I hate to admit it, school went fine. Genya was not that bad of a person, and after getting tired of waiting for her to do something to prove my hope wrong, I settled for her friendship. She was the opposite of me: she was loud, I was quiet. She loved talking, I hated it. She preferred whip cream and sugar in her coffee, I preferred my coffee black and plain. But, somehow, we managed to form a somewhat even relationship.

Nikolai finally seemed to merge with the popular crowd, as did Aleksander. I knew it was too good to be true for them to actually think of me as something close, and now that they found where they belong it'll save me a lot of grief. Now that I had Genya, I felt as if Mal and everyone else would finally leave me alone and not think of me as "that" girl. Once Mal knew of Genya, he literally jumped for joy. Ana even made me celebratory cookies after school. Needless to say it was indeed a lot of praise for something pretty useless.

I kept Aleksander and Nikolai to myself. I did not want Ana giving me glares over how much time I spent with boys other than Mal, and I definitely did not want Mal being the protective big brother in this picture. Especially when I thought of him as something more.

"Alina," Genya said one day during our lunch period, "we've got to get you to one of my parties."

I almost spit up the grape juice I was drinking. "Excuse me? Party?"

"Yes!" her golden eyes shone with even more excitement than usual, "I throw a costume party every year for Halloween; you should come. I can pick out your costume and everything - we can have a sleepover the night before!"

My grape juicebox ran dry. "Woah, okay, let's... okay, first off, Mal has been to your parties, and judging by the smell of booze every year, I'm not so sure it's a party I wanna be at. Second, I think I'm busy on Halloween."

She squinted, hooking a strand bright red hair onto her finger. "Oh, yeah?"

"Afraid so."

"With what?"

"The - um, kids at the orphanage usually - they usually go out trick or treating. Someone needs to

stay behind and...pass out candy." I avoided her glower by busying myself with my sandwich. It was hard to make excuses with Genya; she either made big, watery puppy eyes or saw straight through the lie with laser eyes.

The redhead clucked her tongue, leaning on her elbows. "Well, that's a shame. Since Aleksander's new here, I made sure to get him to come... Nikolai said he would definitely swing by, too."

My chews slowed, and I brought my eyes up to hers.

"Oh, well! Guess I'll just keep 'em both company the whole night..."

Alina Starkov, do not let yourself give into her.

"Music, dancing, cute costumes - matching costumes, even..."

ou can blog all night and eat all the candy you want! The music's probably terrible at the party.

"Then we're gonna need to crash somewhere for the night... maybe in my room, all alone, just the three of us -"

I'm gonna regret this.

"Alright." I took a rather aggressive bite of my sandwich, rolling my eyes at Genya's shout of victory. "I hate it when you do that."

"What? Get you hooked up?" A manicured hand flipped a bushel of bouncy red curls over her shoulder. "You'll thank me later, Lina."

"And if I don't?"

"You have permission to dye my hair a different color."

I stood in front of the tall, mahogany mirror of Genya's bedroom, at an utter lack for words. I had been in Genya's mansion before, so the beautiful furniture and numerous rooms did not make my jaw drop anymore - I was in awe over my costume.

Genya came to stand next to me, leaning on my shoulder with her arm. "So, what do you think?"

What do I think? I had envisioned the classic Halloween costume: the naughty angel, the sexy devil, a frisky cat, but what she had conjured up for me was the definition of thinking of out of the box. My hair had been done into a braid and then twisted into a bun (after vigorous washing, however), and she had applied a light red lipstick and soft orange eyeshadow after applying foundation to my pale skin to make it warmer. The costume itself was of a fortune-teller, made mainly of a shiny orange robe, stopping a few inches above the knee. Another shiny, deep red robe was draped over my shoulders and went to the floor, trailing onto the ground behind me. Genya was stumped for shoes, so I donned simple black ballet flats to contrast with the warm colors. A mask resembling a jackal topped off the entire costume.

"Are you seriously asking me that?" I sputtered, adjusting the mask over my eyes. "It's the most creative thing I've ever worn. Or seen."

"You're just saying that," the redhead waved my compliment off as she took a step away from me. She pointed at me and twirled her pointer finger around, "give me a twirl!"

I complied, relishing in the silky feel of the robes against my skin. "You didn't have to do this, you know."

Her curls bounced as she shook her head and gave me a quick squeeze of my shoulders, "Nonsense, Lina! I saw an opportunity to show how gorgeous you look underneath all that bitterness and I had to take it! Plus, I couldn't help myself from using those tips I found on Pinterest."

"You're literally a suburban mom addicted to Pinterest."

We giggled before the doorbell cut us off, startling us. I suddenly felt sick to my stomach, but Genya was anything but nervous. She was already wearing her costume: a tailor. However, it was more of a tailor for a queen or something royal like that, seeing as she was just as decked out in as much robes and sashes as I was. Her hair was left down, and after curling ever strand, she had decided to take it easy with the make up (for the first time in... I don't even know how long she's been wearing make up), leaving her costume to do the "talking" as she put it. She even had one of those plush tomatoes with pins sticking out of it, and had a paper measuring tape around her neck. Fake glasses completed the look.

As she dashed off to answer the door, I gave myself one last twirl before looking out of her bedroom window which overlooked the front of the house. Hopefully it was someone I knew—

The ham sandwich I had had earlier almost came back up as I quickly scurried away from the window. Of course, of course one of the first guests would be Nikolai, what with his newly acquired status as "Prince" of the school and all. I supposed he needed to keep up appearances.

I heard Genya calling my name while I took a few deep breaths to calm my nerves (and stomach), and groaned. Leave it to Genya to get straight to the matchmaking, I thought with a roll of my eyes as I started downstairs.

"Wait, where's Starkov?" Nikolai grinned cheekily when I reached the bottom of the staircase. "Is she coming down behind this beautiful stranger?"

I pulled the mask off my eyes, settling it on the top of my head instead. "Ha ha, very funny, Lantsov. Or should I say pirate?"

"I prefer the term privateer." The person who stood before me was not Nikolai Lantsov. No, the boy who stood before me was a completely different person— instead of the charming, downright alluring blond stood an equally charming and alluring redhead with dull green eyes and a broken nose (which I hoped wasn't really broken). He was decked in "privateer" clothes, which basically consisted of a blue pirate's coat, golden vest, cream colored and puffy shirt, brown pants and tall brown boots. He looked too young to be a captain, let alone a privateer.

"Don't try to make yourself sound fancier, Nikolai. You're a pirate."

"A dashing pirate, if I may add." Genya giggled, turning to check on the pastries set out for the party.

I scoffed, turning to go back up the stairs. "Genya, let me know when someone less of an asshole gets here."

"Like Aleksander?" She replied in a sing-song voice, and I whipped around to try to grab her neck. "Ack! Easy with the hair!"

"Aleksander? That kid who hangs around Zoya and her crew?" The redhead rolled his eyes and plucked a bag of M&M's from one of the trays set out for the party. "I didn't know you talked to him."

"I don't," I might have answered too quickly judging by his raised eyebrows, "he's just in my anatomy class. And my lab partner." And one of the best-smelling people I know. His cologne could make me lose my train of thought for days.

Before Nikolai or Genya could ask about Aleksander and how I had come to meet him, the doorbell rang, and half of the student body came flooding in clad in costume. With that, the night officially began: music began playing, food was devoured, booze was introduced, and I was swept up in the crowd of teenagers.

The pastries Genya had set out were definitely some of her best— well, her chef's best. The last time she had tried to cook, my hair had paid the price. I suppose she made up for it with this costume, even if no one here recognizes me as the scrawny, bitter girl from school.

I was munching on a strawberry tart while chatting with the redhead when I saw him— tall, dark, and absolutely out of my league: Aleksander. I would have choked on my tart were it not for Genya patting me on the back. He had to be dressed as some mystical figure, because with that silk, elegant black robe and tall black boots, he could honestly make any girl fall under his spell. I nearly gagged at my own thoughts, but I could not stop them from gushing out of me, nor could I stop myself from staring.

"That's him, isn't it?" Genya whispered.

"I think so. I wonder what he's dressed up as."

"You should talk to him!" She nudged my shoulder and winked. "Plus, with your costume, conversation will be easy to keep up. He won't be able to stop talking about how great it looks on you."

I fiddled with one of my sleeves. "You're crazy. He hasn't even looked this way— and I don't need his validation."

"Alright, miss Feminist, you're right about that, but this isn't asking for validation, you just wanna know if he likes it or not. If he likes you or not—"

"He doesn't like me because I don't like him." I quickly cut her off, grabbing another tart from the table and stuffing it in my mouth. "So that's the end of that."

Before Genya could come up with another excuse to get me to talk to him, Mal's mop of blond hair came into view and I opted to seek him out. Who knows, maybe seeing me dressed up like this will make him realize that I'm possibly the girl of his dreams— or at least make him give me a compliment.

The amount of people who showed up to this party was insane; there were even freshman here. If even freshmen were invited, how stupid am I to not show up when Mal would invite me. Weaving my way through the crowd as tricky, seeing as my costume had a train behind me, but since most of the people could not recognize me, they were extra polite. Now that I knew make-up could work wonders for me, I might start wearing it everyday from now on.

Mal was talking to one of Genya's friends, Zoya, when I finally reached him. Zoya had that kind of authoritative aura around her, and her personality could go from the sweetest person you know to the biggest bitch you've ever had the displeasure of meeting. For me, it was mostly the second attitude. For guys like Mal, it was the first attitude— her lips would pucker up and her eyes would go really big, her hair perfectly curled, her tan skin seemingly kissed by the sun itself. For me, it was always a scowl or disgusted grunt, plus a scrunch of her nose. Either way, I'm not sure how Genya or Mal can get along with her.

"Mal," I all but wheezed as I finally reached him, "You made it, after all."

"Yeah, I did," he gave me a once-over, keeping a smile on his face despite his obvious confusion.

"Have we met?"

I noticed Zoya looked on with slight annoyance. I moved the mask from my eyes gently so as to not ruin Genya's craftsmanship. "Mal, it's me— Alina. The girl you grew up with?"

The blonde blinked a few more times before nearly dropping his punch. He ran a hand through his hair, dropping apologies by the second while he marvelled at my costume. While I felt extremely flattered, I began to get flustered by both his compliments and Zoya's growing glare.

"What are you supposed to be, anyways?" Mal asked, setting his cup down on the table behind him.

"Genya said it's a fortune teller's outfit. Don't ask me how she comes up with this stuff." I gave a half smile, shrugging. I gestured to his clothes, which really weren't all that different from what he usually wore. The only thing that was different was the toy gun slung around his arm, and the black vest over his plaid shirt. "What are you?"

"I settled for a hunter," he replied, glancing down towards his costume. "It was kind of last minute. I know it's lame compared to last year."

"What were you last year?" Zoya piped up, nearly stepping in front of me completely. Her voice was like ice.

Mal got into a conversation about how great his costume as a firebird was last year, and Zoya clearly didn't want me there, so I decided to take my leave and find Genya or Nikolai. It shouldn't have hurt me as much as it did to be basically kicked out of the conversation like that, but for some reason it did. I knew Mal. Who did that Zoya think she was, anyways? So what if I'm not super model pretty like she is, I'm still a person, and I—

"Alina?"

— was now face to face with Aleksander himself. I had moved from the main room to the deck outside, but I clearly wasn't watching where I was going. I looked up and met his smoky eyes, and my stomach did a somersault. Despite the hammering in my chest, I managed not to look totally psyched to see him. His costume was really something; I'm surprised Genya hasn't hounded him about who made it. "Aleksander, I didn't know you were gonna show up."

"I don't really like parties, but I figured I could meet more people this way," he said, and dear God his cologne smelled divine from where I was standing. "You look amazing, by the way, did you make that yourself?"

"Would you be more impressed if I said yes?" I asked, to which he laughed. "Genya made it for me. Said it was a fortune teller, or something."

He nodded, then seemed to think about something. Then, he pulled off one of his gloves and held out his hand, palm facing up. "Well, fortune teller, do your magic."

I almost laughed, smiling. "Fortune tellers don't read palms, you know."

"Make an exception, for me?"

Yikes, okay, Alina, stay cool. He's obviously flirting with you, I thought, swallowing back embarrassment. "Alright, but be warned I have no idea what I'm doing."

I gently held his hand with one of mine while the other lightly traced the lines on his palm. I briefly remembered having my palm read once when I was younger, but I couldn't remember what each line meant. Did the longer ones mean a longer life? Or was that just your heart line? Wasn't the heart line was the shorter one, or the middle one?

"Um..." I mentally cursed Aleksander. Palm reading? Is this really sexy? Really? "This one means you'll live a long life." I pointed to a long line running near the middle of his palm before pointing to a shorter one. "And this one means you're... going to find love?" I drew out the last word, unsure of myself.

He raised an eyebrow, an amused smile on his face. "Really? Where?"

I pretended to think, pursing my lips. "Somewhere near you. It will be someone you won't think of, or even guess."

"Very interesting." Aleksander drew his hand back, pulling his glove back on. "I'd say you have a bright future of palm reading ahead of you, Alina."

I bowed dramatically, robes pooling at my feet. "A thousand thank yous. I hope to attend palm reading university."

He chuckled, covering his mouth. I stood back up, and he offered his arm. "Before that, will you care to accompany me to the rest of the party?"

I nearly did a double take, but quickly brushed my surprise off. I nodded, looping my arm through his. "I would like nothing more."