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Hope Mikaelson was never one for parties, but everyone knew when the Saltzman twins threw their bashes, you went—or else. It didn’t matter which twin took offense at your absence. There would be equal hell to pay in the morning. Lizzie tended to give you embarrassing rashes, and Josie’s revenge tended to include fire. It was better to go and get it over with than endure a week of one type of hell or another afterwards.
That’s how Hope ended up here, in a tailored maroon dress of her mother’s, watching everything happening on the dance floor and wondering where the strange scent of mint was coming from. Rafael had been late, and he was the one person she would’ve talked to here, though he was supposed to be Lizzie’s date. That probably meant he wouldn’t have much time for talking to her anyways, but she had hoped, nonetheless.
She didn’t dare drink at parties. Werewolves and vampires shouldn’t get drunk as it was. They struggled with control already, especially when they were this young, Dr. Saltzman said, so mixing substances was the fastest way to create problems. That didn’t seem to have an effect on the rest of the student body. They all had solo cups—blue, to match the theme of the party instead of the usual red—and terrible balance. But Hope stuck to her own rule. Tribrids never drink. Not even alone. Not even away from anyone she could hurt. Never.
So she had to watch, sober, as several dance battles broke out on the floor, usually involving MG, who had stepped up to be Lizzie’s date when Rafael hadn’t showed. Lizzie would stand on the side, arms crossed, body not moving in the slightest to the music. She looked miserable, Hope observed. Which made sense. She had a way of looking miserable whenever Josie wasn’t by her side.
Hope quirked an eyebrow and looked around. Sure enough, Josie was nowhere to be found. She was hardly ever on time for events, but this was late even for her. And for her and Rafael to be late? Hope could see why Lizzie might be a little on edge.
She moved a little closer to where Lizzie stood. Maybe if she could bait Lizzie into making fun of her, she could leave early. If she could just make sure there was solid evidence that she was there …
But Rafael came at that moment, and Lizzie’s face lit up with joy. Hope’s shoulders fell, and she was surprised by the disappointment that coursed through her. Had she wanted Lizzie to make fun of her? Did she like when Lizzie was mean to her? She furrowed her eyebrows as she watched Rafael lead Lizzie to the dance floor. As if on cue, the DJ slowed the music down and the two began their slow dance. Lizzie’s joy was fading fast, though, and before the song was over, she was crying. Hope could see the words on her lips, even though she couldn’t hear them all the way over here,
“Where’s my sister?”
When the song eventually ended, Rafael left her, crying on the dance floor alone. Hope moved closer. She could try her plan again. Lizzie was sure to take the bait with tears in her eyes and her pride too big to let her leave her own party early. MG was nowhere in sight either. There were no knights in shining armor to swoop in this time.
“Mikaelson.” Lizzie just bent her chin down in the bare minimum of recognition.
It threw Hope for a second. She waited for the insult. But it didn’t come. Lizzie stood there, arms crossed, jaw clenched so tight Hope thought she’d break through her teeth, and her eyes staring straight ahead as if by not blinking she could somehow keep the tears that gathered there from showing.
“Do you want to dance?” Hope blurted before she knew what she was saying. Her eyes widened. She might as well have been drinking for as little control as she apparently had. This was why tribrids never drink. She couldn’t add to this.
“With you?” Lizzie looked down at her disdainfully.
Hope looked around, as if someone might have materialized behind her who was looking to dance. “I don’t see anyone else.”
Lizzie wrinkled her nose. It wasn’t hard for her to look so condescending when Hope was the shortest person in their year and Lizzie was the tallest. Lizzie constantly looked down on even before she added the sneers. But she said, “Fine.” And then, like she finally remembered who she was and how she was supposed to feel about Hope, she added, “But only because I think you’ll be bad at it.”
Hope just smiled. Lizzie Saltzman had no idea what she was getting into. Hope not only knew how to dance but she was formally trained in several types of dance, some she was sure Lizzie didn’t even know existed, by some of the same people who had been there when each of the dances started. Lizzie forgot who her family was and all that they had lived through and knew.
“You’re a much better dancer than both of my dates,” Lizzie admitted reluctantly after a while.
“I’m a much better kisser too.” Hope’s eyes widened. Was it really her who had said that?
Lizzie tilted her head back and laughed, high and loud over the music. “The Blue is kicking your ass, Mikaelson.”
“The what?” Hope furrowed her eyebrows.
“Blue Calamus. Josie and Penelope have been working on a way to turn it into a gas—that’s the minty smell.”
Hope’s jaw dropped. “The truth weed?” They’d been pumping that into the air this whole time? She looked around. Everyone at the party must’ve been infected.
“My dad said no more underage drinking at school events, so Penelope’s been working on a special brew that works a lot like alcohol without all the side effects. I don’t know. I didn’t want to hear anymore after she told me there was a slug goo component …”
Hope couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“Guess it backfired,” Lizzie said, the happy face she’d had on for the last hour falling. “Rafael told a little too much truth. He doesn’t really like me. He dumped me, on my birthday.” Lizzie scoffed and shook her head like it was unbelievable.
“I’m sorry,” Hope said. She knew it had to be the truth. Penelope had made sure of that.
“Don’t be.” Lizzie waved a hand through the air. “I didn’t really like him either. I just … liked that everyone else liked him.” Her cheeks flushed red. Hope wondered if the truth weed was working a little too well on her too.
“Josie likes him,” Hope blurted out. “I saw them kissing when we took down that spider.”
“Oh, god.” Lizzie looked horrified. She looked at Hope with pleading eyes. “Why wouldn’t she tell me?”
Hope shrugged. “She told me you had dibs, too. During community service.”
“I wouldn’t have called dibs on him if I had even thought she liked him,” Lizzie blurted. “Josie can have any of the guys. She likes them so much more than I do—” Lizzie clamped a hand over her mouth to stop herself from talking.
It was Hope’s turn to throw her head back and laugh. Lizzie deserved it, just a little, for not telling people about the truth weed in the air.
The moment Lizzie removed her hand, her mouth started running again. “Sorry. The Blue doesn’t usually hit me so hard. You probably think I’m so shallow for only being interested in the cool new guys everyone else wants—I think I’m so shallow for only ever being interested in the cool new guys everyone else wants,” she word-vomited.
Lizzie thought she was shallow? She didn’t think she was the greatest thing to ever walk the earth, without flaw? Maybe Hope didn’t really know the real Lizzie.
“You know, you’re a lot more likeable on truth weed,” Hope said, giggling. She liked this real Lizzie.
“You better hold that thought, Mikaelson, because I know one person I like who my sister would never be interested in and she just so happened to make a really wild claim that she’s going to be the best kiss I’ve ever had that I think I need to fact-check.”
“I don’t think you need to fact-check something I said when I physically cannot lie,” Hope said.
“I just wanted you to kiss me.” Lizzie’s cheeks burned again. She was going to kill Penelope for this. If her stupid Project Blue got Lizzie rejected by Hope Mikaelson—
Hope stood up on her tiptoes. She thought about just pressing her lips against Lizzie’s, quick and clean, but that wasn’t what she really wanted. Inhibitions were lowered all around. She’d seen plenty of couples making out, some even with the people they weren’t dating. They’d be far from the only ones devouring each other in public. Hope’s arms wrapped around the back of Lizzie’s neck as she kissed her—hard. Lizzie’s hands were on the back of her thighs almost immediately, trying to pull Hope closer than physically possible. Hope didn’t know how long they kept at it, but she was breathless when they finally broke apart.
“Want to get out of here?” Lizzie breathed. “Judging by how late my sister and Penelope both are, my room is free.”
Hope nodded.