by Gina Damico
LeRoy had insisted that each Junior get his or her own suite, complete with heart-shaped, quadruple-jet hydrotherapy Jacuzzis, but Mort decided that shared rooms would make it easier for them to keep track of each other—Lex with Elysia, Driggs with Ferbus, and Pip with Bang. So LeRoy returned with three keycards and handed them out, then clapped twice again and led them up the grand staircase.
“What room are you in?” Driggs asked Lex.
She snickered. “Platinum. You?”
“Caviar,” he said, reading his card. “Ew.”
When they reached the top of the stairs, LeRoy snatched Bang’s keycard out of her hand and dipped it into the slot of a door labeled GUCCI. “Meeting time!” he declared, ushering them inside.
They took seats all over the room—some on the bed, a couple on the cushiony sofa. Uncle Mort sank into a large armchair. Lex opted to stand by the balcony door overlooking the pool.
“Let me begin by saying we’re simply thrilled to have you here as our guests,” LeRoy said, once again in that political-rally voice. “Grims from all over the planet flock to our fair city for its world-class TLC—tranquillity, luxury, and cognac, cognac, cognac!”
“We’re not here on vacation,” Driggs said.
LeRoy folded his hands into a triangle under his chin. “Of course you are,” he said, the smallest twinge of tightness creeping into his voice. His smile grew wider, falser. “And now that you’re here, you’ll want to take advantage of everything we have to offer. Daily facials! Bountiful gym equipment!” He began doing squats. “Pilates every hour on the hour, except on weekends, when it bumps up to every half—”
“Wait a minute.” Lex tore her gaze away from the smiling, relaxed sunbathers she’d been watching. “I know what’s so messed up about this place. You people are too happy!”
LeRoy froze mid-squat. “Of course we’re happy. With seven different tanning salons to choose from, who wouldn’t be?”
“That’s not what I mean,” said Lex. “I mean that the Grimsphere is being terrorized by a raging lunatic and you’re just carrying on as if it’s nothing!”
LeRoy regarded her coolly. “It is nothing. It’s none of our concern.”
“None of your concern?” Driggs rose from the couch. “There’s a war going on out there! You should know—Zara killed your Etcetera director!”
LeRoy held up his cane and pointed it at Driggs, barring him from coming any closer. Uncle Mort watched warily from the armchair but didn’t move. “That was months ago,” LeRoy said. “And Zara hasn’t attacked us since. That’s more than your town can say, or even the capital. Trust me, our security is impregnable. You’ll be safe here.”
“But she’s still tearing up the rest of the country! Doesn’t that bother you?”
“As I said,” LeRoy said in a firm voice, “those troubles are none of our concern. What brought you here is also none of our concern.”
Driggs swallowed, then looked at Lex, who had shrunk. “You know who I am?” she asked.
“I know exactly who you are,” said LeRoy. The smile stayed on his face, but his eyes narrowed microscopically. “And your presence here is all the more reason for you to keep quiet.”
“I think what ole LeRoy is trying to say,” said Uncle Mort in a patient voice, finally getting up from the armchair, “is that he is being more than generous by providing a place to stay in our time of need. The type of discretion this man can provide—” He clapped his hands on LeRoy’s shoulders and squeezed them a little too tightly. “Trust me, no one can keep a secret like LeRoy.”
LeRoy gave him a pained smile, then turned to the Juniors once more. “And in return, I ask only that you relax, enjoy yourselves, and keep the unpleasantness to a minimum.”
“How?” said Lex. “Won’t people recognize me?”
“Unlikely,” LeRoy said cheerfully. “Politics, current events, all that ugly news—none of it reaches us here in DeMyse. Entertainment, though . . . let’s just say that our gossip magazine offerings rival those of the juiciest—”
“Wait. You mean you don’t let anyone know what’s happening on the outside?”
“Princess, I do what is necessary to keep order in my town. My only job is to protect my citizens. I do that by providing a luxurious, carefree lifestyle, and that is what my people have come to expect.” One of LeRoy’s nostrils flared. “If you upset that delicate balance, you will no longer be welcome here.”
He finished with an expression that reminded Lex of a snake. She looked at him, then at the rest of the wide-eyed Juniors, then at Uncle Mort. “Really? We’re just going to go along with this?”
Uncle Mort folded his arms and nodded. “His city, his rules.”
“But—”
Bang made a cut-it-out motion across her throat. Against every bit of her better judgment, Lex trained her eyes to the floor and shut her mouth.
“Wonderful!” LeRoy shouted, the consummate host once again. “I’ll leave you to get acquainted with your rooms. Care to take in some refreshments this evening? Six tearooms, nineteen nightclubs, and one all-you-can-sip Courvoisier trough! But don’t stay out too late. Limo tour in the a.m.! Be ready at eight o’clock sharp!” And with a flourish, he vanished out the door.
The room was silent for a moment. “I have a headache,” Ferbus finally said, patting his tender face and sinking into the bed.
“Hey, go bleed on your own pillow,” Bang signed, yanking hers away.
Elysia inspected his nose. “It’s really starting to swell.”
“Maybe you should go get some ice from one of the five ice machines,” said Driggs.
“Or consult one of the dozen plastic surgeons,” Lex said. “Seriously, what planet is that guy from?” she asked Uncle Mort. “And why does this place look like a really bad drug trip?”
“That’s just part of its defenses,” Uncle Mort said. “If any Death Valley hikers get lost or disoriented, they see this place all bedazzled to hell and think it’s just a mirage. That usually scares them off, but if they get any closer and enter the city limits, it’s so outrageous they’ll never believe it was real. Add a few drops of Amnesia, and the whole thing becomes nothing but a fevered hallucination.”
“But this can’t just all be for show,” Driggs said. “Those people out there look like they’ve bought into the glitz and glamour with every last dollar they’ve got.”
“Well, that was an unintended consequence,” Uncle Mort said with a shrug. “It started off as a façade, but as time went on, people got used to the lavish lifestyle. You can only coo over so many teacup poodles before you start to believe they’re absolutely essential to life.”
“But why don’t they care about what’s going on in the Grimsphere?” Lex asked. “How can they be so shallow?”
“Well, LeRoy didn’t exactly fall off the turnip truck—underneath all that zebra print, he’s a pretty smart guy. He goes to great lengths to maintain the illusion that DeMyse is a paradise, and the people go along with it, either because they want to or because they don’t know any better. Same idea as the mirage: they see what they want to see.” He scratched at his stubble. “That’s not to say he isn’t up to something. That’s half the reason I wanted to come here, to make sure he’s really on our side.”
Lex studied him. “And the other half?”
He walked to the door. “Better rest up if you plan on going out tonight. And clean yourselves up, would you? You look like you just dragged yourselves through a desert, for Chrissakes.”
That evening, Lex lay on her bed and stared across the room at the naked wall. Never had she thought she’d miss her much- maligned Titanic poster, but at that moment all she wanted was a little glimpse of Leonardo’s perfectly sculpted eyebrows.
She took out her Lifeglass and gave it a swirl. She rarely looked at the thing—too many bad memories were stored inside—but it seemed somehow important, in the wake of all that had happened that day, to get a good look at the things that she might never see again, the
things she truly missed.
An image of her parents floated to the surface of the glass, making her chest burn. Even though their time together that afternoon had been short and hostile, she was glad she’d gotten to see them. She hated that she couldn’t fix their pain, couldn’t be the daughter they so desperately needed her to be.
She missed Croak, too. She already hated DeMyse. Whereas Croak was homey and comfortable, this place was too fake, too vulgar. The people looked plastic and pointy. Even the bed was hard.
And then there was Corpp.
She tried to tell herself she was being ridiculous, that she couldn’t miss someone who’d only been gone for a few hours . . . but she did. A deep, dull ache had settled into her stomach the moment her hands had touched him, and it hadn’t gone away. He’d always been so nice to her, even after what happened with Zara and Cordy, even when the rest of the town had turned on her and the Juniors. He and Pandora stuck by them, never forgetting what it was like to be young and scared and—
And stupid. Stupid enough to Damn the wrong person.
He was an old man, she told herself. Old and happy. Even in the Lifeglass he was content, repainting his bar into an ever-changing masterpiece. He’d been married to his soulmate for decades and had the pleasure of serving his friends night after night. He’d led a long, full life.
But these thoughts were the kind that might help someone with grief, and that’s not quite what Lex was feeling. Grief itself wasn’t even so bad anymore—it was an emotion for people for whom death was a mystery, for people who knew nothing of what lay beyond the grave. Grims knew for a fact that death was just a transition to a better place.
No, Lex was grappling with her old friend guilt, that searing stab of knowledge that she had been the one to turn the last few minutes of Corpp’s life into total agony.
Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes and ran down the sides of her face. A box of Kleenex sat atop the nightstand, but she didn’t make any attempt to grab it. The warm liquid felt good seeping into her pillow, wetting her neck, making a clammy mess.
Now what? she thought. Now what, now what?
Now what came in the form of Elysia, who was kicking at the door. “Let me in!” she shouted. “I come bearing cute shoes and tight pants!” Elysia had left the room right after showering—to go exploring, she told Lex, though Lex suspected she had just wanted to give her new roommate some time alone.
Well, Lex had gotten it. She shoved the Lifeglass back into her bag, wiped her face, and dragged herself to the door. She opened it to find an Elysia-shaped pile of shopping bags and shoeboxes.
“I just came from the boys’ room, spiffied them up a bit. They look—oh dear,” she said upon seeing Lex’s blotchy face. “You need a hug.” She dropped everything and swept Lex up into one of her patented suffocation embraces. As usual, Lex relished every moment of it. The girl had a gift.
“What’s with all the stuff?” Lex said after she’d let go.
Elysia dragged the bags to the bed and plopped herself down in the middle of them. “Remember what LeRoy said about going out tonight? Well, I’ve been asking around, and it turns out that it’s like a religion around here.”
“So?” Lex said, sitting next to her. “How is that different from Croak? We go to the bar every night too. Or we used to. I don’t know what’ll happen now that Corpp’s—”
“No, no, it’s different here,” Elysia said, expertly steering Lex away from the bleakness. “At home we just hang out and play drinking games, and it’s all real casual. Here they take it to a whole new level.”
“Aren’t you still freaked out about Zara, though? What if she finds us?”
“You heard LeRoy—she never comes to DeMyse. Besides, what are we supposed to do, shut ourselves in this hotel and never come out again? We can’t let our lives be dictated by fear, Lex.”
Lex raised her eyebrow. “How much of that did Uncle Mort tell you to say?”
Elysia coughed and looked guilty. “Um, percentage-wise?”
Lex sighed. “Lys, I wiped out Croak’s most beloved citizen today. You really expect me to go out and party it up tonight like nothing happened?”
Elysia took Lex’s hand. “Don’t you think sitting around here feeling terrible about it will be worse?”
“I don’t know.” Lex looked into Elysia’s eyes. “You’re not scared of me, are you?”
Elysia let out a gentle laugh. “Come on, Lex. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. I’ll never be scared of you.”
“Promise?” Lex said. “Even if I do awful things like this, if I”—she let out a long breath—“if I keep hurting people, even if it’s by accident? You’ll still stick around?”
“Of course I will.” Elysia squeezed her hand. “I’m exceptionally sticky. Haven’t you noticed?”
At this, Lex finally smiled. “Thanks, Lys.”
“Now!” Elysia reached into the shopping bag. “I got something for everyone, and you’re last but certainly not least. We’re going to have a good time tonight if it kills us.” She pulled out a shimmery blue top made from about a square foot of fabric and held it up to Lex with a mischievous look in her eye and a scarily large grin on her face. “We’re going clubbing.”
17
Lex wobbled out into the hall on a pair of the very high heels she’d seen on those two women that afternoon, but she wasn’t pulling them off with nearly as much dignity.
“I feel ridiculous,” she hissed at Elysia, who had come out of her own transformation looking even cuter than usual in a sassy silver top, extra-dangly earrings, and perky lip gloss. The self-proclaimed clubbing guru hadn’t shut up for one second about how much she missed the scene and how fiercely she was going to tear up the dance floor.
“You look slammin’,” Elysia told Lex. “That shirt is gorgeous on you.”
“This is not a shirt. This is a napkin with armholes.”
“It’s flirty!”
“It’s gross.”
“Well, it matches your eye shadow,” she said, blowing on Lex’s eyelid.
“Which I also hate.” She’d fought hard on that one, flinging gobs of eyeliner and mascara and blush all over the bathroom, but Elysia had won out in the end. “I told you, it’s too heavy.”
“It’s supposed to be heavy,” Elysia insisted. “You look sophisticated.”
“I look like a clown whore.”
“There are the guys!” Elysia said, dragging Lex down the hall. Driggs and Ferbus were stumbling out of their room, trying to make a quick getaway without being seen. But Elysia was too quick for them. She smiled with pride, reveling in the results of her makeover. Lex, on the other hand, just stood there with her glossy mouth wide open.
Both boys wore designer jeans, buttoned-up Armani shirts, and shiny black shoes. Ferbus’s orange mop was brushed, for once, and Driggs’s hair was styled into spikes with what looked like five gallons of gel.
Lex almost peed from trying not to laugh.
“Aren’t they handsome?” Elysia said, straightening Ferbus’s collar.
“Indeed they are.” Lex pricked a finger on one of Driggs’s spikes and gave him a randy grin. As silly as he looked, the sexy couldn’t be denied.
Driggs, too, regarded her with a distinct horniness. “Wow. You look—”
“Like a clown whore. I know.”
“I was going to say hot,” he said, squeezing her bum. “Slutty hot, but hot.”
“These PANTS are too TIGHT!” Ferbus pulled at his crotch. “You can’t tell me these are meant for human attire, Lys. The boys need to breathe!”
Elysia yanked the waist of his pants back up. “They’re supposed to be tight. Plus, they take the focus off your face,” she said with a wince at his nose, which had gotten even uglier.
Pip and Bang then piled out of their own room, looking much like the others. Bang looked particularly transformed, her hair teased up into a voluptuous coif, her gangliness augmented by the heels, her lined eyes even more piercing
.
“Put that away,” Elysia said, grabbing Bang’s book from her hand and tossing it back into their room.
“These shoes are pinchy!” Pip cried.
“My bra strap keeps showing,” Bang signed.
“It’s supposed to show!” Elysia said, exasperated. “Amateurs!”
They left the hotel and ventured onto the sidewalk, looking like a sideshow of circus freaks as they wound their way through the bustle of nightlife. Though the sun had set, the brightness of the town had barely diminished, dazzling lights and neon signs flooding the streets with an artificial glow. Drunken carousers shouted from one balcony to another, music poured out from the doors of nightclubs and bars, and a distinctive, fruity smell wafted through the crisp desert night air.
They soon arrived at a pair of glass doors labeled ETERNITY. “This is supposed to be the best club in town,” Elysia said as they got in line between a pair of red velvet ropes.
Lex held on to Driggs for balance atop her heels. “According to?”
Elysia glanced down the line. “Someone I met.”
“Whoa, wait,” Ferbus said. “Who?
She put on an innocent face. “Just some Junior. He said this is where they all come, and I thought it would be a nice way for us to start, you know, mingling. Get into their good graces.”
“And by good graces, I assume you mean this guy’s pants,” said Ferbus with a grimace. Elysia said nothing, but looked up and down the line again.
“This is stupid,” Lex said. “We should be home.”
Driggs nodded. “Or back at the hotel.”
“Doing what?” said Ferbus. “Damning and unDamning the monogrammed towels? Look, I don’t like the prospect of dancing with a bunch of rich douchebags any more than you do, but Elysia’s right, you can’t just sit around in a fort made of extra hotel pillows and torture yourselves over things you can’t change.”
“No,” said Driggs, “but we could at least keep working on a way to get to the cabin. There’s got to be a library here. Maybe it has different books, ones we don’t have in Croak.”
