Glimmers of Glass (A Glimmers Novel #1: Cinderella)

Chapter 27

It was too cold outside for a festival like this to make sense, but this was Portland, and no one was going to skip out on fun because of the weather. The sky brooded heavy silver over the riverfront and misty drops landed like cold pinpricks on my skin. I pulled the hood of my jacket up, glanced around to see if anyone Humdrum was looking, then flicked my hand open toward my chest. Warmth bloomed, starting at my heart and quickly flooding the rest of my body as the enchanted blood circulated.

It was nice to be out and about without Elle tagging along. It seemed like every time I'd gotten out of the house lately, she'd been tagging along. Although maybe that was just because every time I got out of the house lately, it was to head to Pumpkin Spice to keep an eye on her. Being around Elle had started to give me with the same vague panic I felt as a kid whenever I tried to take my aunt Sophie's Great Dane for a walk before she'd up and moved to Thailand. It always got excited about something, pulled the leash out of my hand, and took off, leaving me chasing after and hoping it wouldn't cause a catastrophe before I got it under control.

Imogen stepped onto a bench looking out over the water and scanned the damp lawn sloping up toward the road. The lawn was littered with white tents set up as performance spaces and food vendors. I had a feeling she was doing this as much to be noticed as to find whoever we were meeting—she was all decked out in a stylish trench coat over jeans that made her butt look great, and she had on a pair of boots she'd spent way too much on. Her textured floral-print scarf curled around her throat like a pink-and-yellow cloud, and giant gold flower earrings swung from her ears in a way that almost brightened the dreary air around her. After a moment, she waved across the field to someone and hopped down. Two figures walked toward us, their bodies obscured in dusky blue shade and lit by orange from the street lights that lined the waterfront walkway.

The taller figure pushed his hood back as he reached us, revealing Lucas' familiar curly mop of hair. "I forgot how great Portland's weather is," he said dryly, glancing up at the sky. I suddenly had to dig in my purse for chapstick. Something about the way his hair blew across his forehead in the breeze as he smiled down at me made me feel like I couldn't even look at him without zoning in too closely on his face.

Imogen was right. He was cute. And I was his awkward middle school friend. You need to get out more, I told my heart sternly, which had just started pounding like I'd been running.

The hooded girl standing next to him was no doubt his girlfriend, so there was no point looking at him like he was the first guy I'd ever seen. She had her hand in his and had a sharp eye on Imogen, sizing up the competition.

"If we waited for the sun we wouldn't leave our houses until July," Imogen said. "I'm glad you came out!"

He shrugged and smiled at me, though he was talking to her. "It's good to actually see people outside of school," he said. "I don't think I've left the house for a week."

"Except to come to my boring parents' house," said the girl next to him, leaning in and gazing up with big green eyes. "Which was so sweet, let me tell you again." She bestowed a smile on Imogen, who was sizing her up right back. "Lucas is the best," the girl gushed. "My mom is one of those 'ladies who lunch' kind of people, which is oh-my-God tedious, and she's been running these exhausting fundraisers all week. She's had a different dinner party every day and Lucas came to all of them and sweet-talked old ladies until they practically forked over their checkbooks. He's so perfect."

"Apparently," Imogen said, managing to make the word sound like a compliment.

I attempted a friendly look at the girl. She glanced at me, smiled politely, and then looked away toward the water. I wasn't pretty or dramatic enough to even show up on her radar.