The simple truth is, there are far more people like me here than there were in my small town in Michigan. Unapologetic nerds. Jack is one of them, as is Olivia, the brunette dressed in black by my side.
Jack’s studying computer science and Liv, economics, so we have a few classes together, as I’m aiming for a marketing BA, and we instinctively gravitated towards each other, all three of us being scholarship kids considered geeky by the cool crowd.
Not that I mind. I am the definition of a geek.
Beer foams out of poor Jack’s nose and I grimace. “Ew. Please never try to chug anything ever again.”
Liv chuckles. “That was your idea.”
I dragged them here, armed with our fake IDs.
“Because neither of you will survive this trip unless you’re plastered through it.”
After lunch, I drag them to the convention centre. I figured a bit of liquid courage wouldn’t go amiss. My friends are both too straitlaced to feel entirely comfortable in my little world.
I guessed they’d enjoy it if they chilled a bit at lunch time as both are fond of fantasy and sci-fi. I was right.
They’re delighted to stop by every artist’s station. Jack spends a fortune on a Star Wars sculpture and Olivia has at least ten art prints she insisted she needed to decorate her dorm room. Jack can’t stop staring at a Wonder Woman’s tight red pants in her OG costume and Liv squeals every time a fur-covered, blue from head-to-toe Beast winks at her.
By the time we’re driving back, the second-place cosplay trophy in my trunk, neither of them can shut up about our afternoon in LA, promising to tag along next time. Olivia even ventures to ask about procuring some costumes.
“I make mine, but plenty of people buy or commission theirs,” I assure her. Glancing at her, I add, somewhat reluctantly, “You’re about my size. I could lend you some of my old stuff.”
And I meanold. I’m rather possessive and protective over my cosplays, but even I can admit that I have too many, some I don’t really plan on wearing again.
“Oh, I don’t know.” She flushes as she stares at me. “I’m not that comfortable in my body.”
I smile. Frankly, my own fashion sense tends to be conservative. I like blouses, cardigans and round-toed ballerina shoes. Most of my skirts are knee-length. But all modesty goes out the window when it comes to cosplay. Today, I’m the Scarlet Witch, in all her red corseted glory. I’d like to say it’s on the classy side of slutty, but it’s definitely not something Olivia would wear. She prefers to stick to loose sweatshirts and pants two sizes too big for her.
“Not all my cosplays are revealing. Take Arwen—” I start, immediately regretting it.
I’mnotlending my Arwen cosplay. Hand-stitching the crystals on the collar took me forever. Not to mention the headdress.
“She’s dressed from head to toe,” I conclude.
“You have an Arwen cosplay? I love the Lord of the Rings!”
Ugh. Maybe I can part with her riding habit from the first movie. And if she gives it back to me in one piece, I’ll consider lending her more.
I roll Bertha, my ugly but trusty blue Nissan Cube, in front of the dorm to let my friends out, before making my way to the parking lot. It makes sense to let them out first as they’re both worse for the wear after the lunchtime binge, not to mention some day-drinking during the convention itself. As the designated driver, I stayed sober. But as I enter the dark parking lot alone, I wonder if I made the right move.
Thorn Falls, and the Rothford campus in particular, are hardly dangerous, but I still don’t like walking alone this late at night when I can help it. A shiver runs through my spine as I grab my bag from the boots.
“Hello.”
It’s no surprise I yelp and jump at the sound, already spooked before I hear it.
Recognizing the man smirking down at me, amber eyes glowing in the dim lamp lights, I grumble, “What the fuck? Don’t creep up on a girl at night.”
His grin broadens. “Scared, darling?”
I straighten up, hating the way I shiver at the low drawl.
“Of course not,” I lie.
I was scared before recognizing him. Now, I’m a little uneasy, as anyone would be with a stranger in the dark. He’s a stranger,and it’s Sunday night. The campus is almost empty. I’d have to be completely dumb to not be somewhat anxious.
He stares like he knows I’m dishonest, or at the very least, not telling the whole truth.