A Kiss in Costume [girlxgirl]

The Costume (Maggie)

Maggie Juárez's best friend, Layla, stood at the top of the stairs, clicking her sonic screwdriver on and off and grinning. "Ready?"

Maggie smoothed her full skirts, her heart already in her throat. Without answering, she climbed the steps to the apartment, where, Layla had assured her, their friend Quan would be throwing the Halloween party to end all Halloween parties. For costumers and cosplayers and all-around nerds like Maggie and her friends, Halloween was their lifeblood.

Layla reached for the door, but Maggie stopped her with a look. "Do you think she's going to be here?" Please say no, Maggie thought, then almost immediately thought: please say yes.

Her friend shrugged. "You're committed either way, aren't you? You told Quan you'd be here tonight."

"I guess so." Maggie chewed on her lip. "Just don't leave me."

"When do I ever do that?" Layla flung the door open and pulled Maggie into a crowd of elbows and shoulders and bottles of beer. The walls trembled with a thudding bassline. It reverberated deep in Maggie's ribs, matching her heartbeat. She stood up on her tiptoes, scanning the crowd for Sam. Even if Sam was here, what did it matter? It wasn't like Sam would actually talk to Maggie. She never did—

What. The. Ever-loving—

"Layla." Maggie gripped her friend's arm. "What the hell is that?"

"A killer costume, that's what that is."

Yes, at literally any other Halloween party, any other year, any other moment in time apart from this current, exact time, Maggie would have thought it was an absolutely terrific costume.

Tall, beautiful Sam Winters, with her blonde undercut and the twinkling diamond nose piercing in her left nostril, had come to Quan's Halloween party dressed as Mr. Darcy. The top hat, the waistcoat, the gleaming riding boots. And... honestly, it looked amazing on her, from the cravat around her elegant throat to the coattails skimming her hips.

The problem was that Maggie's own costume was an incredibly detailed recreation of a Regency lady's ball gown. Which meant Maggie was now, all of the sudden, the Eliza Bennett to Sam Winters' stuck-up Mr. Darcy, despite the fact everyone was drinking out of red solo cups and listening to Iggy Azalea. Everybody would think it was a couple's costume—how could they not? Even Maggie couldn't help wondering if—

Tearing her gaze away from Sam, Maggie frowned at Layla. "How did she make a costume like that? Lae. Tell me you didn't help her. You didn't do this, right?"

"Me? Come on, that's way out of my league."

Maggie frowned, but relented. As talented a cosplayer as Layla was, she did tend to stick to her usual favorites. Doctor Who, especially. It suited her, dressing up as the Doctor, the same way dressing up as Mr. Darcy suited Sam.

"Anyway, you guys make a cute couple," Layla added.

Maggie gawked at her. "She's not—you know she hates me—"

"She doesn't hate you," Layla corrected her. "She's just shy. That's why it's cute." Layla adjusted the red fez perched on top of her glossy brown hair.

Maggie's face burned. Cute? No. Nothing about Maggie's awful, painful crush on Sam Winters was cute. Sam had made it very clear she couldn't care less about Maggie. At most, she found Maggie a loud, bubbly, chubby annoyance.

"There's Quan, with Alec and JP." Layla grabbed Maggie's arm and dragged her through the kitchen towards the living room, away from Sam, who was standing the drinks table in the kitchen, looking bored.

"Wait—I'll catch up later." Maggie pulled away and in spite of her better judgment turned back to Sam.

Sam glanced across the room at Maggie, then away, then back at her again. Pale pink suffused her high cheekbones. Strange, Maggie thought, but brushed the flicker of confusion aside.

Taking a deep breath, Maggie made her way through the crush of people towards Sam. "Good evening, Mr. Darcy."

"Hey."

Maggie didn't know what she'd been expecting, but a good evening, Miss Bennett seemed appropriate under the circumstances.

"So, this," Maggie said, gesturing at Sam's outfit. "Is this some kind of prank?" That came out wrong. Maggie bit her lip. "I mean—nobody told you about my costume?" She knew Sam and Layla were friendly—Layla was friendly with pretty much everybody on campus. She had an irritating habit of telling Maggie stories about how clever and interesting Sam was. As if Maggie didn't already know Sam was clever and interesting.

Sam's fingertips whitened around her red solo cup. "Nobody told me anything about your costume. I asked Layla for suggestions on what to wear, but—"

"I knew it!" Maggie said, stomping her foot. "She's such—ugh, I'm sorry. She knew what I was wearing—I have no idea why she would do this to you." Layla was always a little crazy, a little unpredictable. Usually, though, she directed that energy towards breaking and entering onto roofs to do elaborate photoshoots as female Thor, not tricking people into wearing couples costumes to a party. How could she use Maggie's beloved costuming for evil?

"I'm going to kill her," Maggie assured Sam, sipping her drink.

Sam laughed weakly, tucking her blond fringe back underneath the brim of her top hat. "Okay, but—can we go—go outside for a minute first? Before you k-kill Layla?"

Maggie hesitated. The solution to their strange predicament was to move as far apart from each other as possible, or, ideally, for one of them to leave. Not to go somewhere private together, giving people even more of the totally wrong idea.

"Please," Sam said, touching Maggie's wrist. Maggie jerked her hand backwards, her skin smoldering. Sam's eyes were huge. "Sorry. I'm sorry. It's—I can just—"

"It's all right." Sam had never touched her before—why would she? Maggie drew a deep breath, torn between curiosity and nervousness. She met Sam's eyes again, taking in the tension in Sam's eyebrows, the slight flush still staining her cheeks.

"Okay," Maggie said, breathless. "Let's go out on the fire escape."

*******

To be continued! What do you guys think so far? Have you ever had a friend like Layla (or are you like her :-) )?

I reeeally wish I could see Sam dressed up like that for reals.... Any artists out there want to take a crack at it? I would be so grateful! :D

Thank you so much for reading!

xoxo,

London

PS, this part is dedicated to @danceforme19, whose boyxboy story, Better Sorry than Safe, is absolutely brilliant & beautiful!