The Casquette Girls (Book 1)

18. Downtown Boys

Yawning, I turned off the alarm on my phone. My eyes drooped. I hadn't meant to fall asleep, but after my restless night, I could have easily slept through till tomorrow. Just as my lids slipped back shut, "Moonage Daydream" cranked out of the scratchy cone at full volume.

"All right! I'm up!" I yelled at the phonograph. If I was late meeting Isaac, my grand plan wouldn't work out.

I forced myself out of bed and into a black sweaterdress, sheer turquoise tights, and black ankle booties. I quickly reapplied the day's makeup, stealing a few seconds to add a little smoky eyeliner. If we ran into my father, I hoped it'd make him sweat. Maybe he'd think twice next time before inadvertently playing matchmaker. His behavior surprised me. Normally, he did anything he could to keep boys away. Especially boys with long hair and attitudes. Maybe he was concerned by how much time I'd been spending by myself since the Storm? Unlikely. Maybe he just wanted me to have a bodyguard? More likely.

Spritz of perfume. Chain. Ring. Gris-gris.

Accessorized, I reknotted the loose bun on top of my head and skipped out the door just as "Lady Stardust" wound down.

***

The sun was setting over Jackson Square, which felt creepy without the fortune-tellers, artists, and street performers who usually littered the pedestrian streets late into the night. Isaac was sitting on the steps of the gated park in front of the cathedral. I was surprised but happy to see a few other people standing around the old town square. When the click of my heels against the slate came within earshot, he looked up. "Hey." The relief in his voice didn't escape me.

"Did you think I wasn't going to show?"

"No, but I guess I kind of deserve to be stood up."

"Yeah, don't ever pull anything like that again."

"Just say yes the next time I ask you out and I won't have to."

Before I could fire back, he quickly added, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I don't want to fight on our first date."

"It's not a date, remember?"

"Call it whatever you want. I'm just glad I managed to get you here."

I swallowed my smile.

"Ma bébé!" a booming voice yelled—exactly the man I wanted to see. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

I turned around, straight into a crushing hug. "Ren . . . ribs . . . can't breathe."

His eyes were fixed on Isaac before he even set me down. "Hmm, curious . . ."

"Ren, Isaac wants to learn about the great city of La Nouvelle-Orléans, so I thought, what better way for him to get to know the city than on your walking tour?"

"I see. Oui, oui. Bienvenue." He looked Isaac up and down, as if assessing his likelihood of heckling.

Isaac leaned close to me and lowered his voice: "Nice one."

I tried my best to contain my grin from growing extra wide.

"Laissez les bons temps rouler!" Ren yelled, accepting the challenge.

Isaac looked to me. "Are you gonna give me a clue?"

I laughed. "Let the good times roll."

"Gather round, everyone," Ren called out to the few people lingering in the square. "So glad you all decided to brave the nightfall. I'm sad to say this tour is gonna be cut a little short thanks to the parish-wide curfew, but don't worry, you'll still get all the tales, because we won't be making any pit stops for drinks. Unfortunately, everything is closed. Everything legal, that is, er—" He cut himself off when he saw the inquisitive look on my face. "But please feel free to partake in your own libations, if you brought 'em." He lifted his coat to reveal his flask. "It is perfectly legal to drink here on the streets of La Nouvelle-Orléans."