Mark My Words

38 | Pittmen Party Crashers

    There just wasn't any rhyme or reason to it.

    Rosalie caught a glimpse of Joanna's profile when she turned to look at Sami. Sami looked at her, but she was caught now looking at Joanna instead. Joanna's vampire teeth were poking into her bottom lips and making it look as though she had a retainer on. Rosalie turned away abruptly and cleared her throat, slumping in her seat, her long legs pinched together at the knees. She took to watching the scenery so she could stop having a mental discussion about the smooth slope of Joanna's nose, or the way her freckles traveled up to the glint of her cheekbone piercing.

    Nope, definitely not thinking about that, she thought dreadfully as she continued to think about those things.

    The painful moments weren't over when they left the car down the street from the Pittmen estate. Rosalie had never been to the Pittmen estate before, but just like any other house she entered with Joanna, Joanna acted like she had been there a dozen times before. She led the way to the front porch and all but jumped the four steps leading up to the door before swinging it open and gesturing with a bow for Rosalie and Sami to enter.

    Sami tossed an arm around Rosalie's shoulders as they lingered in the hallway. He leant in and whispered, "Do you need me to stick around or can you fend for yourself?"

    "My brain can't but I think my reflexes are still good for punching," she said, holding up her fists.

    Sami clapped her on the shoulder and admitted that he needed to find Isaiah. Rosalie realized quickly—precisely as soon as his arm left her shoulder—that it was an excuse to flee the situation. She dropped her fists to her sides and refused to give in to the scream at the back of her throat.

    Joanna's heels clicked across the tiled entryway. She put her hands on her hips and whistled low, eyes scanning the domed ceiling and the posh, white interior. The foyer branched out via arched walkways channeling out from where they stood. The music sent an eerie echo from afar, and they caught the tail end of it. The lighting in the foyer was dimmed, and Joanna stopped at an archway lined with fake cobwebs. She stuck a foot out, rolling her heel back and forth as if debating whether or not to enter.

    She jabbed a thumb in the direction of the hall and looked back at Rosalie. "What do you say, Killer? Should we find the pack or explore?"

    "Find the pack," Rosalie said immediately.

    She marched forward. She passed Joanna and entered the dark hallway that opened to a room lined pitched in red lighting. Someone had changed the lightbulbs on the chandelier, and the bloody glow reflected off of a row of tall windows encircling a grand piano. A series of fake candles were lit on an iron candleholder near it, and Rosalie wasn't all that surprised by it. Lennie claimed to be a pianist, and in middle school during music class, while everyone was learning how to play, Lennie was helping others learn instead of learning himself.

    She remembered because he had taught her how to play something cheesy, like a lullaby. She remembered because every inch of her skin tingled the same way it did when Joanna bumped into her shoulder then.

    Given the "mood lighting," though, it was easy to play off as a scare. She put a hand to her heart to feign fright.

    "Aw, scared? Wanna hold hands so you don't lose me?" Joanna teased with a laugh.

    "No!" Rosalie squeaked. She turned away to follow the trail of cobwebs leading through the estate. She added offhandedly, "And I didn't realize that you were always in character for playing Marceline."

    "I grew up on Marcy, what do you expect?" she said, heels clicking after Rosalie.

    They met the first sign of life around the designated coatroom, which was a mudroom attached to the garage. Rosalie dropped off her jacket there, but felt more exposed than before in her short-sleeved collared shirt. Sure, it felt a lot like a school uniform, but the jacket gave her somewhere to hide under when Joanna brushed up against her and tugged her by the arm.