What Happens at Con

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What Happens at Con Page 2

by Cathy Yardley


  It was… uncomfortable. Demoralizing.

  “I’ll be honest,” Adam said, clearing his throat, “I’m gonna ask Tessa to marry me.”

  The rest of the guys stopped and stared at him.

  “Are you fucking nuts?” Abraham snapped. “You guys have only been going together… what, six months?”

  “But we lived together a year before that,” Adam said.

  “As roommates!”

  “I’ve known her even longer,” Adam continued stubbornly.

  “But… but…” Abraham shook his head, looking at Fezza and Jose for help. They shrugged. “Seriously. Why?”

  “Because I love her, dude. I don’t wanna wait anymore.”

  “Congrats, man,” Fezza said with a broad smile before turning back to the controller. “That’s awesome. It’s cool to see you two so happy.”

  Happy. That again. Abraham tried not to scowl. He probably failed miserably.

  “So, I’ve really got no chance with her now, huh?” Jose joked, and Adam smacked him on the back of the head.

  “Damn it. I’m thinking the same with Stacy, but she’s got trust issues,” Rodney said. “I figure I’ll give her another year, but being honest, I’ll be lucky to make it six months.”

  “Maybe you can have a long engagement,” Fezza suggested. He tended to be the team problem solver.

  “Jesus, could we not talk about weddings and engagements and shit?” Abraham snapped. “Or do we have to finally turn in our man cards? Not all of us have our balls tucked away in our girlfriends’ purses!”

  Abraham knew that he was being an asshole. He was known to be surly, and generally he didn’t care, but this was… These guys were his friends. This was good news. He didn’t have to be so shitty.

  “Sorry. Congrats, all that. I am… happy for you.” He took a deep breath. In a weird way, he was, sort of. He wanted his friends to be happy. But his own corresponding emotion was an empty, gnawing sort of feeling, a hollow echo of their happiness. “My parents are on my shit to get married. Just put up with an hour-long conversation with my mom the other day about why I don’t have a girlfriend, blah blah. Sick of those conversations.”

  Sick of being alone all the time. That thought was the most galling of all.

  Jose sighed. “Oh, yeah. That sucks.”

  “She keeps asking me when I’m gonna bring somebody by,” Abraham said.

  “Dude, does she know you at all?” Fezza joked, firing up a new game. “I don’t think you’ve dated in the entire time I’ve known you, and I’ve been at MPG for, like, four years.”

  “I’ve had a girlfriend. Girlfriends,” he corrected. Not for several years, admittedly, and the bulk of them were in high school before he shipped out. Like Becky… he shook his head. He wasn’t going to think about that whole train wreck. He turned his attention back to the screen, choosing his character, jumping from one ledge to the next. “Focus on the game, guys. I’m done talking about this.”

  “Maybe the girls at the bookstore can fix you up,” Rodney said, ignoring his statement.

  “How come they never volunteer to fix me up?” Jose asked. They laughed.

  “Fix up the horndog? Are you kidding?”

  “Maybe you just need to get laid,” Dennis said to Abraham, with that smug tone that reminded him of his bros when he was in the army. “Unless you’ve got a problem in that department, too, huh buddy?”

  The room went quiet, and Abraham looked away from the screen to glare at him. Dennis was pretty mouthy — it was bravado, he felt sure. Abraham glared at him, and Dennis backed down, as Abraham thought he would, obviously sensing that his teasing had crossed a line. They weren’t that close friends, not yet anyway. The fact that Abraham was six foot three and still worked out like he was in the army didn’t hurt when it came to intimidation.

  “What do you think?” Abraham asked, watching as Dennis’s throat bobbed with a visible swallow. “Think I’ve got problems hooking up when I want to?”

  Dennis laughed weakly. “I was just gonna suggest a bet.”

  Now everybody perked up. If there was one thing the MPG crew enjoyed, it was a good bet.

  “For all of us non-pussy-whipped single guys,” Dennis said, trying to get the vibe back with a chuckle, “we see who can hook up first.”

  “No contest,” Jose said. “My Tinder-Fu is legendary.”

  “Nope! Not Tinder, not online dating, not anybody you’ve hooked up with before,” Dennis said with a small smirk.

  Fezza looked baffled. “So — old-school? Hit on somebody at a club or bar or something?”

  “Sort of. A special event,” Dennis said. “Erotic City Con.”

  “A con?” Fezza perked up. He loved conventions of all types.

  “The crème de la crème of freaks are gonna be there,” Dennis said, excited. “If we all hit it… we’ll all hit it, if you know what I mean.” Given his leer, it was impossible to miss the implication.

  Abraham frowned. “Are we talking like…”

  “Like bondage and stuff!” Dennis said. “And chicks wearing next to nothing. Lots of costumes. And, I dunno, public sex scenes and shit. It’ll be insane.”

  “I’m in,” Jose said.

  “Um… I guess?” Fezza said.

  Abraham could feel their stares on him, but he refused to buckle, focusing on the game. “What are the stakes? Of the bet?” he said instead, his character slicing and dicing its way through enemy robots.

  He could hear the tones of satisfaction in Dennis’s voice. “Besides bragging rights? Good point. Maybe a hundred bucks each, to make it interesting?”

  Abraham shook his head. “Our stakes are never money.”

  “They’re usually shame,” Jose interjected helpfully.

  “Like dressing up like Sailor Moon,” Adam added, and Abraham could hear the smile in his voice.

  “So — last one to hook up has to dress like… what, bikini Leia?”

  “On second thought, I’m out,” Fezza said. “I never hook up at cons.”

  “Or much of anywhere,” Jose said, and Fezza threw some popcorn at him.

  While Adam yelled at them to clean up their mess, Abraham shook his head. “I’m not into this bet, either. Sorry.”

  “Why not?” Dennis pressed.

  “Too easy,” Abraham said, because he didn’t want to say the real reason: he felt weird about it. He usually didn’t have trouble finding a woman willing to grind with him, to just hit it with no strings. But he’d found himself more and more picky lately and feeling pressured because of winning a bet left a bad taste in his mouth. “And no stakes.”

  “Maybe we could make a bet to get you to go?” Dennis said.

  Abraham looked at the kid. Dennis seemed really eager to go to this scene. He wondered what the story was there. It might be because Dennis was new, and didn’t have many friends in this area. He’d moved to Seattle to work in the gaming industry, and he’d latched onto all of them.

  “What kind of bet?”

  “Drink off,” Dennis said, with a smile. “I brought some apple pie moonshine. If you don’t stay standing, you have to go to Erotic City.”

  “Oh, no,” Fezza said, looking green just at the mention of it.

  “Um, I’m in,” Jose said.

  “Hand over keys and give me phone passcodes. I’m getting Ubers for your dumb asses if you go through with this,” Adam said sharply.

  Abraham thought about it. If there was one thing he knew how to do, it was hold his booze. His father had taught him, and the military had only reinforced it when he was on leave. “What the hell,” he said. “Pour me some.”

  It helped fill the emptiness, if nothing else. Besides, he had a higher tolerance than most people he knew. What was the worst that could happen?

  “I need a drink,” Ani said to her best friend, Tessa.

  They were at a bookstore, which wasn’t the normal place you’d think about having a drink, but this wasn’t just any bookstore. Technically, it was a col
lectibles and bookstore, for one thing. For another, it was currently closed as the owners and some select friends let the booze flow. Finally, those owners were the Frost sisters, friends that Tessa had made in the past year. They were awesome, and Ani felt lucky to be friends with them by association. Ani was more outgoing and less socially awkward than Tessa — of course, a potato was less socially awkward than Tessa, sometimes, much as Ani loved her — but this was like a crazy band of supportive, amazing girlfriends. She’d had that support in Tessa, but having a whole group was a new experience for her, and she valued it.

  For a woman going into a STEM career with a new sexist asshat adviser, heading into her proposal defense, a group of girlfriends at her back was exactly what she needed.

  “Better make that a slew of drinks,” Ani corrected.

  “Lime margaritas are on the way,” Rachel assured her. Rachel was the oldest of the Frost sisters, and an absolute stunner. Ani wasn’t quite sure what the story on Rachel was, besides the fact that she worked her ass off. She was the only one of the sisters who didn’t solely work at the bookstore: she had an event planning job up at the casino, and then she was also going for her MBA at the University of Washington. Ani had considered going back to U Dub for her doctorate, but the smaller Washington Sound College, over in Maple Valley, had its own cache, and had presented an excellent scholarship package and attracted a lot of heavy-hitting scholars in her field.

  Hailey, the middle sister, walked up with a frost margarita, rimmed in salt. “Man trouble?” she asked. Her hair was pinned up in victory rolls, and she wore a red-and-white halter top with jean shorts. She looked like a pin-up Rosie the Riveter. She was tougher than Rachel, her hair browner than Rachel’s glossy black.

  “Kind of man trouble,” Ani said, sipping the margarita and forcing herself not to cough. Had any lime gotten into this thing, or was it pure tequila? “Um, my original adviser at school got sick — breast cancer — so someone else is taking over for her. That someone else seems to be an assbag. He’s got a huge ego, likes to be called sir, doesn’t think that my old adviser had enough smarts or rigor, warned me that I have to really step up my game and impress him… that kind of thing. “

  “I hate guys like that,” Hailey growled. Rachel nodded in dark agreement.

  “Anyway, after giving me a reverse pep talk about how hard it was all going to be, I came here, seeking to drown my sorrows.” She lifted her glass. “And you guys are the best friends I could’ve lifted a glass with, so thanks for that.”

  “She’s getting sentimental on us,” Hailey teased. Tessa laughed. It was nice to see her shy friend breaking out of her shell.

  “I’m surprised you’re here with us, actually, Tessa,” Hailey said. “Thought you were over playing the big video game thing with Adam and the guys tonight.”

  “My girl needed me,” Tessa said simply, making Ani feel both guilty and special.

  “I didn’t want you to cancel things for me!”

  Tessa rolled her eyes. “Adam and Abraham can manage to kick some Overwatch ass without me for one night,” she said, then frowned. “Besides, Dennis’s there. I don’t really get along with him so much.”

  “Probably for the best,” Ani agreed, then sighed. “It’ll get better. I just have six weeks or so before the proposal. I can put up with nearly anything for six weeks, right?”

  “What kind of proposal?” Rachel asked.

  “It’s like the pre-thesis defense, where you lay out what your project’s going to be, then argue why it’s worthwhile and why it’s going to work.” She swallowed some more of the margarita, the tequila going down smoother. “There is a slim chance he’ll shoot me down, but I researched the fuck out of this thing. The only thing he’d pick on is the presentation itself, but I have time to smooth out the rough edges on that. I just need to make sure not to let him get to me in the meantime.”

  “You could just wait until your regular adviser got better,” Rachel said.

  “There isn’t a guarantee she’ll get better,” Ani said, sighing. “I hope she does, and I think she will. But I’ve spent this much time, and I’m ready. I want to make my PhD.”

  Not to mention prove to her parents that yes, she was intent — and ready — to actually earn her doctorate.

  The third Frost sister, Cressida, drifted over to the couch, sitting on it and tucking her feet beneath her. “Aversion therapy,” she said with a smile. Ani noticed that Cressida never drank.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve been trying aversion therapy to get outside,” Cressida said. “It’s just a matter of taking small steps. The guy is an asshat. You’re having trouble with him. Just make it small increments, or small increments with some different asshat,” Cressida said, her smile broadening. “And then you’ll get used to it before you know it.”

  “Asshole aversion therapy,” Ani snickered. Tessa burst into laughter.

  “As it happens, I have a house full of quasi-sexist asshats that you can practice with,” Tessa offered.

  Ani rolled her eyes. “I’ve met your coworkers, thanks,” she said, but in the meantime, she smiled at Cressida. “How’s your aversion therapy going?”

  Cressida shrugged, but her eyes were cautiously optimistic. “I made it to the front yard,” she said. “Hung out there for about half an hour. I mean, I still had to retreat to my room, but I’m figuring out places where I feel safe.”

  “You’re doing fine,” Hailey said. “There’s no rush.” She and Rachel looked like they were trying to play it off casually, but their eyes were either misting or bright with pride.

  This is why I love this place, and these people.

  After several margaritas (and a promise to Tessa that she’d crash over in the spare bedroom at her place rather than drive home), she felt much, much better.

  At around nine, their friend Kyla came through the door in a bustle of energy. “Oh, good! You’re all here. I made the alterations that I wanted to, some samples for a theater production. I worked on it almost all last night. I just had to show them to somebody!”

  “All night?” Ani repeated, frowning. “Where’s Jericho?” Normally, Kyla didn’t spend all-nighters doing costume stuff when her hot, hunky boyfriend was home.

  “He’s in Vegas,” Kyla clarified. “He’s helping his friend Mike move from there to here. Mike and his son are going to be taking over the other half of our building for more serious custom work. Jericho and Billy are expanding the auto shop because business has been going well, and with Mike in the mix, they’re really going to kick ass. Also, I’ll be able to really focus on the costume stuff full time.” Her smile was like sunshine. “Still, I wish that he’d been home last night, because these costumes are hella sexy.”

  Ani watched as Kyla pulled stuff out of the bag.

  Tessa and Cressida crowded on either side of her to see, while Rachel hovered over her shoulder. Kyla distributed them around.

  Ani held up a costume and gasped. There was what looked like a bikini made of leaves from the almost metallic pleather, in deep russet red, emerald green, and tarnished bronze. The matching full-face mask looked like a late autumn sun fabricated from burnt gold. It looked like it belonged to an autumn war goddess.

  “Holy crap,” Tessa said.

  The next was what looked like a black corset bodice over pleather pants with a long half overskirt. It made her… respond, she realized. The corresponding silver filigree half-mask was stunning.

  She wanted it, Ani realized immediately. More to the point, she wanted to be the kind of woman who wore it.

  “That is some of your best work, Kyla,” Rachel said, while Cressida clapped her hands. “Seriously. This is next-level, auteur stuff.”

  “I love Jericho beyond anything,” Kyla said earnestly. “Being honest — since I, well, started having sex with Jericho? My work has hit a whole new gear.” Her smile was one of pure, cat-like satisfaction.

  “Maybe that’s what I need to get my proposal present
ation to the next level,” Ani said, then winced as she realized she’d said it out loud. “Not sex with Jericho! Just… you know. Sex.”

  “Been a while, huh?” Tessa commiserated.

  “It doesn’t rival your dry spell pre-Adam, but yeah, been at least a year,” Ani admitted. “Beyond that, though… I mean, I haven’t dressed up, haven’t gone out dancing. Haven’t picked up or been picked up by a guy for ages.”

  Kyla smiled. “I’ve got just the answer.”

  Ani did not like the sound of that. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Erotic City Con.”

  Ani’s eyes widened. This was not where she thought Kyla was going to go with her suggestion. “What the heck is Erotic City Con?”

  “It’s this festival that celebrates all kinds of sexy stuff, that has more of a storybook kind of aura. I think that goddesses and mythology are part of the theme this year, anyway. You could borrow one of the costumes — I won’t need them for a while, and I’m pretty sure at least one is your size. You’re built like a model.”

  Ani bit her lip, looking at the outfits.

  Kyla looked concerned. “All I’m saying is, you might want to try dressing up and hanging out. You don’t have to have sex — I don’t think this is just some orgy or anything. But it might be nice to be someone else for a bit. And if you feel sexy, maybe even wind up getting a little something-something… well, why not?”

  “Why not?” Ani murmured, staring at the dress — and the mask.

  For one night, she could be someone else. Do something completely for herself. Blow off some steam before she dove headfirst into the crush of being a TA, an RA, and doing her own lab work after the presentation was done and approved.

  She needed this, she agreed.

  So why not?

  What kind of trouble could she get into, after all, right?

  Chapter 2

  Abraham woke on a sofa bed in a state of vicious hangover. He’d slept in worse places, and he’d had worse hangovers, but this wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for the pounding.

 

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