Out of Character

by Annabeth Albert

  “Milo Lionetti?” Mom frowned, which wasn’t the reaction I’d expected.

  “Heard he got himself into some trouble a while back.” Dad’s expression was even more grim.

  “He sure is cute trouble,” April added, which got her pointed looks from all three of us.

  “I haven’t seen him since the funeral.” Shaking her head, Mom cut her food into neat pieces. “Poor Cathy. That boy has put her through the ringer on top of everything else she’s had to endure. And she’s not the only one. Jasper, do you really want to get involved with him again?”

  “We’re not involved.” My fork clattered against my plate. Business. This was business. A transaction. A Neptune for Kellan and April and the kids at the hospital. Some help for Milo, but even that was more for Bruno, who hadn’t deserved his dumbass brother losing his cards. Involved was not even remotely on the table.

  Across from me, April smirked like she knew better. And then my phone buzzed in my pocket and I immediately wondered if it was Milo. Damn it. Even friendship would be beyond stupid. He’d proved enough times that he wasn’t to be trusted.

  “Good.” Dad nodded firmly before returning his attention to his food. I got why they were both firmly anti-Milo. I’d moped for months when our friendship had ended, and they’d had to hear more than one tale of woe in the following years about Milo’s new crowd and their idea of jokes involving the smart kids.

  Involved. Back then, I hadn’t allowed myself to hope for Milo being anything other than my best friend, especially once that friendship had been lost. I had been only starting to find other people cute back then, and while my heart might have had some private wishes, I tried hard to ignore any…reactions to his nearness. Unlike now, when my body most definitely had noted Milo was all grown up.

  “You’re months from graduation.” My mom must have picked up my train of thought. Milo wasn’t the only one who was an adult now. I too had the real world waiting.

  “Yup. Don’t need any distractions,” I agreed. I had a possibility of a job in NYC after graduation, and maybe that was part of why I’d been so desperate to find a Prince Neptune. I still wasn’t sure how I felt about leaving April and Kellan and everyone else here. Felt weird to be down to mere months. But at least I could make sure they were good months, and maybe eventually I’d sort myself out.

  April’s laugh cut through my tumbling thoughts. “I’d take a distraction about now. Especially if it looked like—”

  “You’re only fifteen. Maybe you spending time with Jasper’s crowd isn’t a good idea,” Mom grumbled, which only made April groan.

  “It’ll be fine,” I said before an argument could break out. “He’ll probably only be Neptune the one time anyway.”

  Buzz. My pocket vibrated again. Heck. Maybe not even the one time if he was messaging to bail. Mom had a strict no-phones-at-the-table rule, so it wasn’t until after I helped clear and wash the dishes that I got a chance to look at my messages. I leaned against the washer in the mudroom as I scrolled my phone.

  Several from Kellan, of course. He wanted to show me his latest design for upgrades to his mage outfit. Unlike some of us, Kellan cosplayed as multiple characters depending on his mood and the event. And each costume needed approval from the rest of us. I added my thumbs-up and scrolled on. Arthur wanted to confirm my work schedule for the weekend, but none of those messages made my pulse thrum like seeing Milo’s name.

  Hey. Did you find the costume?

  You’re hoping I didn’t. Don’t lie. I laughed as I typed. Yup. Checked the sandals. Size twelve. Think that will work?

  His reply came while I was still packing up. Yeah. That’s my size too. And uh…I’ve been wondering what goes under the toga?

  My answering chuckle was loud enough to make Mom glance my way from where she was putting away leftovers in the kitchen. Oops. No distractions. No involvement. Seriousness only. Except somehow my fingers didn’t get the message.

  You worried it’s like a kilt? ROFL. And TBH, Ronnie and I weren’t tight like that. Never looked.

  That wasn’t entirely true. I’d never hooked up with Ronnie, but I knew perfectly well that he wore something under the toga. I didn’t want to examine too closely why I was having fun with Milo. And of course my pulse leaped with the next response. Okay. I’m gonna bring some shorts or something, unless that’s against cosplay rules?

  There’s no rules. And sure, I’m not asking you to go bare-assed. Wear what you want under it.

  But as soon as I typed that, my brain was filled with images of Milo in various stages of undress, a parade of all the possible underwear options. He probably wore boring mono-colored cotton boxers like all the jocks seemed to favor, but my brain enjoyed the mental fashion show waiting for his reply way too much.

  Good. I have some white compression shorts. I’m probably overthinking this, right?

  Yup. I’d been right. Jock gear. But there was something almost…vulnerable in his reply. Like he was worried about something more than ending up commando under a toga. I added a frazzled-looking emoji with steam coming out of its brain. Quite possibly. You’re nervous?

  I don’t get nervous. Just don’t like public humiliation.

  Well, okay then. Nice to know how he saw cosplay. My fingers hammered out my retort even as my back tensed with a thousand unwanted memories. Except when you’re handing it out.

  I kind of expected that would end the exchange, and indeed there was a long pause, but the bubbles kept showing like he was typing. However, no message came, and I gave my mom a hug and headed out to my car. Still little bubbles, as if he was typing and erasing. And damn it, I was curious enough to wait a few more minutes while the car warmed up. Finally, the phone buzzed.

  I’m sorry. You got a raw deal in school for sure. I was a shit. We all were. And I know it means dick now, but I’d do it differently if I could.

  My chest did a weird flip as my hand tightened on my phone. He’d said sorry the day before, but I hadn’t believed him. And honestly, I didn’t entirely now either. He was likely only regretting that he needed my help and that I hadn’t forgiven him easily. But at least he was owning that he was an ass back then—him and his lousy friends.

  Even now, I could remember his jock buddies and their stupid jokes and the way Milo had always stood there, mouth a tight line, eyes grim, shoulders stiff like he was next on the chopping block. Except he never was. He’d been a golden boy for the popular crowd, and I refused to let my brain process the idea of him doing things differently. Because what if we’d never argued? What if we’d stayed friends? What if he’d stood up for me? Too many what-ifs for my head to hold, that was for sure. And I just wasn’t ready for a world where Milo might have genuinely changed. Even if his apology felt good, believing in it—or him—would be beyond foolish.

  Chapter Six

  Milo

  “I’m not late,” I announced, out of breath as I barreled through the hospital lobby to where Jasper stood. He was loaded down with a couple of bags, a large gold scepter, and a disturbingly accurate giant frog mask. My leg already ached from the fast walk from the bus stop, and I was pissed at it, missing the days when I could have easily jogged up to the hospital.

  “Barely.” Jasper was smiling, but my chest was still tight. I’d been worried he’d assume I was going to bail and call the whole thing off. I’d had another message from Bruno the night before, underscoring how badly I needed Jasper’s help.

  “Sorry. Bus took forever to come, but I made it.” Inhaling slowly, I tried to resume my normal voice without sounding too defiant. Didn’t need to start this thing off with my bad mood ruining our uncertain truce.

  “That you did. And you actually beat some of the others. Come on, let’s get changed.” Jasper adjusted his bags, and I instinctively reached for two of them, leaving him with the props and his usual backpack. My hand grazed his shoulder, which was a m
iscalculation on my part. He was warm and solid and smelled like cedar, facts that my body took way too much notice of.

  “Here. Let me help.” My voice was huskier than it needed to be as I shouldered the bags.

  “Okay. Okay. Careful. The red one has all the intro decks we use for playing the kids.” Jasper strode across the lobby toward the restrooms, pausing near a soda machine to turn toward me. “And why don’t you have a car?”

  Oh, how I hated questions like that. I got enough shit from my friends over my reliance on the area’s spotty transit. “I have a car. Just don’t like taking it out, especially in winter.”

  That was true enough. My car was a classic Mustang that I’d spent hours restoring with my dad, and it was hardly a winter workhorse. But that wasn’t the whole story, wasn’t why my insides twisted up every time I had to drive, especially in bad weather. And I really hated caring what the hell Jasper thought, didn’t know quite how to take his shrug as he entered the restroom.

  Jasper glanced around the empty room as he pointed to the blue bag. “Your stuff is in here. I’ll take the other bags in with me. Can’t risk someone walking off with the cards.”

  “Yeah,” I said weakly. Couldn’t lose precious cards. For the billionth time since the weekend, I called myself all kinds of idiot. We exchanged bags and I headed into a cramped stall to change. It was weird, being back in a hospital with that distinctive medicinal cleaner smell, memories of my recovery and other less-than-pleasant associations making my injured leg tense further. My leg was already stiff from the too-fast walk from the bus stop, and the tight quarters didn’t help. I took a minute to rub my leg as I took off my shoes before stripping down to my shorts. It was chilly in the restroom, and despite being behind the locked stall door, I felt weirdly exposed.

  Unfortunately, the costume didn’t help with that feeling as the thin fabric was all floaty as it draped over me, skimming my pecs and midsection before brushing my thighs and swishing around my knees. Bare arms. Bare legs. I’d worn a pair of compression shorts that I usually wore under baggier workout or soccer gear, but the toga was still rather…breezy. And strangely sensual. I’d never had silk sheets, but this fabric slid against my skin and made me aware of my nerve endings in a way I wasn’t entirely comfortable with.

  “Don’t forget your accessories,” Jasper called from the next stall.

  Oh, yeah. Ornate crown. Gold arm gauntlets. Gaudy seashell belt. And…earrings?

  “I don’t have pierced ears.” I tried to sound regretful, not relieved.

  “They’re magnets. And they’re tiny. Not gonna steal your dude bro cred, promise. I’ve seen NFL players with earrings.”

  “Diamond studs are one thing. Seashells are…” My voice trailed off as I realized I wasn’t going to win this one and in fact was probably decreasing my chances of help after we were done. “Whatever. Putting them on.”

  The magnets provided an odd pressure on my earlobes, like someone was tickling my neck and ears, but I tried to ignore them as I struggled to put on the lace-up sandals. No matter how I arranged the gold laces, my scars were still partly visible. Damn it. And of course Jasper noticed as soon as I emerged from the stall.

  “Dude. Your leg—”

  “I know.” My tone was harsh, but I didn’t want to take questions right then. Or ever, really. Wasn’t planning on baring any more than I had to for Jasper.

  “Are you okay? The scepter is pretty sturdy if you need to lean on it.” He handed it to me quickly, like I was in danger of falling right that moment.

  “I’m fine. And uh…that’s your costume?” Gripping the scepter tighter, I was actually grateful for the prop’s support as I took in Jasper’s outfit. He’d dropped a few hints in chat that I wasn’t going to like the Frog Wizard’s costume, but I’d figured on a hideous mask, not this.

  “Yup. Warned you. Still want to switch?” Jasper’s outfit was various shades of purple with teal and gold accents. Close-fitting velvet coat that was short in the front, long in the back. Lacy lavender neck scarf that probably had some fancy British name. Embroidered vest. Tassels in more than one location. Short, tight pants, sort of like the kind on the covers of the historical novels my mom loved, but with sheer teal stockings over the lower legs that tapered into gold high-heeled shoes. Oh and a floppy velvet hat.

  “Um. No. No switching.” I itched behind my ear, wondering if I was supposed to compliment him or what. He looked ridiculous. Also…surprisingly good. Like the outfit clung to his lean frame in a way that made him seem less skinny and more stylish. Elegant even. And if I were drawing a character, I wouldn’t ever put red hair together with those colors, but somehow on him it worked, almost too well. “I thought wizards wear, like, stars and big robes.”

  “Not in Odyssey. There’s all types of wizards. The Frog Wizard is almost more like a court jester. Some of his cards transform. Sometimes he’s tricky, and other times downright devious. But he’s known for his style.”

  “I can see. Those are some shoes. How do you even walk in them?”

  “With practice.” Jasper laughed, then sobered. “Wait. Speaking of walking, I didn’t think… Is your leg going to be okay with the sandals?”

  “It’ll be fine.” That was half-true. I would be fine, but I’d also be hurting later as my leg did rely on my shoe for a certain amount of stabilization. But I’d been putting in the time with the physical therapy exercises and figured I could spare an hour in sandals with no support.

  “Whoops!” Two younger doctors in white coats and scrubs came in, door almost hitting Jasper. Both of their eyes went wide before they grinned slyly. Oh heck. This wasn’t going to be good. I braced myself for some insult.

  “Is it Halloween already?” The taller of the two doctors had a deep voice and was apparently in no hurry to take care of his business.

  “Nope.” Jasper shrugged, his smile as easy as ever, not in the least rattled despite his attire. “We’re expected upstairs. Patient visits.”

  Somehow Jasper’s confidence seemed to have defeated the young doctors’ urge to tease. It was something, the way their faces transformed from joking to respectful.

  “I bet the kids will be happy to see you.” The shorter doctor offered a warmer smile this time, but unlike Jasper, I didn’t grin back.

  “They usually are.” Jasper still seemed perfectly at ease having the world’s most bizarre conversation in a men’s room. “We play the Odyssey card game with them.”

  “Wow. I used to play that in high school,” the shorter doctor shared. I was a little afraid we were about to get into the specifics of the game right there, but then his companion added, “Good luck, guys.”

  Finally, the doctors went into the stalls, and we grabbed our stuff and headed out to the hall. Where more people would see us. I had to swallow hard.

  “Come on. Let’s introduce you to the rest of the gang.” Jasper knew no such hesitation as he headed to the bank of elevators near the restrooms. He punched the button for floor three, sparing a grin for an elderly couple sharing the elevator with us. His comfort in costume was impressive, but he still carried the frog head under his arm.

  “Why don’t you put your mask on?” I asked, trying not to make eye contact with the others in the elevator.

  “It’s hot and dark in there. Hard to see where I’m going. And sometimes it scares the younger kids. Instead, I wait until they ask me to wear it for a picture or something like that.”

  “Makes sense.” I wouldn’t be in any hurry to put the giant mask on either. I followed him off the elevator to a waiting area where several costumed people were standing around. Most of the outfits I recognized from Odyssey cards—wizards and reapers and various anthropomorphic animals. A guy about our age in an impressive wizard’s outfit strode over. His velvet robes dragged the floor and flowed down his arms. Why couldn’t Jasper have needed another wizard? At least this guy was
covered. And warm. I shivered again.

  “You were right. He is the perfect Neptune.” The wizard sized me up in a way that made me feel a bit like a bug under a magnifying glass, going as far as to circle me before reaching out to straighten my toga. It took all my restraint not to knock his hand away.

  I settled for giving him a hard stare instead. “Uh. Hands off the costume.”

  “Sorry.” Wizard guy shrugged. “Habit. I had fun altering this one.”

  “You make the costumes?” My head tilted as I considered him again. He was tall and wide, built like a linebacker, and he had a scruffy beard. He was the sort of guy who probably grew his first beard in junior high, and his hands were bigger than mine. I had a hard time picturing him threading a needle.

  “Some of them.” His grin had a lot of swagger to it.

  “Kellan’s a theater major. You’ll be seeing his designs on Broadway someday.” Jasper slapped Kellan on the shoulder, pride clear in his voice. I had no business caring about their easy friendship, but knowing that wasn’t enough to stop an edge from creeping into my voice.

  “Cool.”

  “You’re shorter than our last Neptune. But I suppose you’ll do.” A petite red-haired elf gave me a regal nod. She had a mask embroidered with leaves covering her mouth and nose, and elbow-length gloves on as well.

  “And this is April.”

  “Oh. Right. Your sister.” The red hair should have tipped me off. But she’d been born when we were seven or eight, a surprise for the whole family, and had been little more than a preschooler when we’d stopped being friends. “You got big.”

  “You probably remember her as a tiny—”

  “Jasper.” She elbowed him hard enough that he winced. And now both her mask and Jasper’s interest in the hospital made more sense. She’d been born with some rare genetic blood disorder that impacted her immune system’s ability to fight off infections and had been hospitalized a lot as a kid, especially before they found out what was wrong.