Chapter 4: Into the Streets

Emily

My skin feels electric for some reason. Partying isn’t exactly my thing, but there’s a palpable charge in the air. Maybe New Orleans wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

“How do you do that?” Raya sticks out her lower lip, watching as I finish blending the smoky look over my eyes.

“Practice.” Which is a lie. I never do my makeup like this. The fact that it looks as sultry as it does all comes down to blind luck.

I don’t know why my sister’s asking. Subtle has never exactly been her speed, and her appearance tonight is a testament to her sense of style. She may pretend to envy what I’ve got going on, but the glitter beads she’s affixing to her temples tell a different story.

Her whole vibe is flashy, sparkly, and effervescent. I wish I was able to pull off something like that.

“God,” she sighs, pressing her false lashes in place. “Do you remember how much trouble we got in when Mom caught us dressing up?” The memory alone is enough to make me blush.

“She was furious!”

“Right? ‘No girls of mine are going to look like trash!’ Wild.” She mimics our mom’s voice, and it’s so accurate it makes my breath catch. A feathery laugh slips out of Raya, but I’m trying to keep tears from spoiling my mascara.

“We were, what? Seven?”

“Nine,” she corrects me. “A lot has developed since then.” She stands up, hoisting the front of her strapless dress up, then cuts a look at the cleavage showing in my far simpler dress. “Some of us more than others.”

“Whatever,” I scoff. “You’re doing just fine. I’ll be amazed if your dress will even zip all the way up.”

“Speaking of which…” Raya turns her back to me and bats her eyes over her shoulder. “Pretty please?”

Turns out I was right. Fighting her zipper to the top is an impossible task. Every time I get close her boobs smash so high on her chest I think they’re gonna spill over the top. And the second I let go, the zipper creeps down her back again. It turns into a kind of game, and before long we’re both breathless with laughter.

“Not sure we’re gonna win this one,” I gasp, flicking at my eyes with my fingertip.

“Eh. Fuck it.” She shrugs, and the back of her dress opens down past her shoulder blades. “It’s not like I’m trying to hide the goods.”

“Maybe. But if you go out like that, you’ll be covered in beads before we reach the end of the block.”

“Perfect,” she says with a wink. “I’ll let them cover me up instead.” Taking a moment to look herself over in the mirror, I take an eyeful as well.

Raya looks great. She always does, but this is something else. It’s not the multicolored sequined outfit she’s bought, or the fantastical makeup – it’s like she’s lit from within. I’ve heard people referred to as radiant before, but this is the first time I’ve actually seen it.

Turning to my own reflection, I’m like the mirror opposite. She’s all light, and I’m all dark. My chestnut hair falls down either side of my face in cascading curls, a world apart from Raya’s meticulous updo. I’ve contoured my face, but apart from accenting my eyes, that’s it. A dash of brilliant crimson for my lips is the only pop of color.

The black dress I brought along is more appropriate for a cocktail party than a bar crawl, but I like it. It hugs my curves in just the right way, showing off skin without making me feel like I’m on sale. It’s rare for me to feel beautiful, so I let myself bask in it for a second.

“Woah.” Raya has caught me, and I fold in on myself.

“What?”

“You look amazing. I don’t know why I even bothered.” It’s a joke, but there’s a genuine glimmer behind it.

“Shut up.” I put my arms around her, squeezing tight. For all her rough and tumble, Raya’s got a tender heart I can’t resist. Which is good, because she’s all I’ve got in the world. “Let me get a look at you,” I say, pulling back again to appraise her.

Raya preens, shifting from pose to pose and giggling. Gorgeous as she is, something feels off. Then my eyes lock on her bare chest and an icy shiver blasts up my spine.

“Where’s your necklace?”

“Oh, my God!” She plants a hand flat on her cleavage. “Good call! It’ll look fantastic with this.” She rummages around through a tangle of baubles, finally coming up with the sleek, silver pendant.

“It’s not about what it looks like,” I mumble, but she doesn’t hear me.

“Here.” Raya holds the ends of the necklace over her shoulders. “Fasten it for me?” I do, then catch her eyes in the mirror.

“We’re not supposed to take these off.” My own necklace almost burns my skin as I say it. Raya just waves me off.

“Oh, whatever.”

“I’m serious. Mom told us never to take them off. She was adamant about it.”

“Stop being silly. She just said that to keep us from losing them. They must have been expensive.” Taking it between her finger and thumb, she rolls it around and considers it.

“Maybe, but I wouldn’t chance it. The last thing I want to do is lose mine. It’s one of the few things we have left of them.” I say it without thinking, startling myself with how deeply it strikes me. Raya must feel it too because when she looks up there are tears in her eyes.

“We have each other,” she says, and I hug her from behind. After a beat she shrugs me off. “God, when did we get so fucking sentimental? We’re here to party, right?”

“Right,” I join in gamely. Lifting the whiskey bottle from the bathroom counter, she takes a swig before holding it out to me. The liquor scorches my throat on the way down, reminding me how little I’ve had to eat today. I’m going to have to pace myself if I don’t want to lose my head.

We hit the street, and it looks like I’m the only one in the whole city who’s worried about losing her head. If anything, going wild seems to be the core mission of everyone in sight.

The street is so thick with bodies we have to fight our way out of the hotel doors. Turns out Raya didn’t have to worry about the front of her dress at all. The first thing I see is a woman wearing nothing but body paint, and she’s managed to sweat most of it off. And she’s not alone. I’ve never seen this much skin outside of a gym shower in my entire life.

People are either paying too much attention, or none at all. Which works for me. I can slip into the crowd without a second look.

My sister, on the other hand, struts into the fray like she was born for this. When a line of musicians snakes by, brass instruments blaring, she falls in line right behind them. I can’t tell if it’s an official procession or an ad hoc parade, but it doesn’t matter. We’re right in the mix, trailing along as people hoot and shout on every side.

“Here!” Raya whips around and crams a drink into my hand.

“Um…” I look warily at the plastic cup, then glance around in search of a bar. “Where did you get this?”

“Oh, come on!” She rolls her eyes, then takes a huge gulp from her own cup. “Loosen up – It’s Mardi Gras!” Throwing back her head, she howls it out so that everyone around cheers. Much as I hate to say it, the energy is infectious. Before I know it I’ve polished off my drink, and the whole world flows a bit easier.

Every time my hand is empty, Raya is right there with a fresh cup. Her eyes shine with tipsy excitement. I’m right there with her, laughing and shimmying to the urgent beat of the band. My throat is sore from laughing, and sweat pours down my body until I’m slick with it. Normally I’d be squirming out of my skin, but for some reason I feel totally, blissfully alive.

Then a cold wind whistles down the lane, skittering over my skin until every inch of me is covered in goosebumps. I look around, but it seems like I’m the only one who feels it.

Everyone else writhes to the music just like before, but now it takes on a strangely unholy quality. These aren’t partiers living life to the fullest – they’re damned souls and demons flickering like the flames of hell. I shake my head to dispel the image, but it never fully goes away.

Worst of all, despite the fact that everyone else on the street is lost in their own delirious world, I can’t escape the feeling that all eyes are on me.

And me alone.