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Hope’s eyes scanned the crowd for the fifth time. Landon was still nowhere to be seen. She closed her eyes and listened, trying to cut through all the noise. There were hundreds of people there for the pageant, and Hope was searching for one specific voice. And worst of all, it was nowhere to be heard. She sighed. Her escort was missing. She was going to have to move onto Plan B.
She pushed her way through the crowd of contestants, bunching her skirt up in her hands. “Lizzie!” She spotted the blonde, also squinting at the crowd.
“Have you seen Josie?” Lizzie asked. “I was supposed to meet her here for one final pep talk before she walked.”
“Nope.” Hope shook her head. She didn’t mention that she saw her leave with Penelope Park a while ago. “I have a favor to ask.”
“You are in no position to be asking for favors,” Lizzie scoffed. “I heard about what you did last night. All those people you murdered.”
“Landon’s not here,” Hope continued, as if she hadn’t heard a word Lizzie said. “I need an escort.”
Lizzie couldn’t believe her ears. A million angry words sat on the edge of her tongue, but before she could get a single one of them out, Hope interrupted her,
“You’re dressed hot enough. Will you escort me?”
Lizzie felt close to tears. “Am I supposed to fall for that? Am I supposed to just give in to whatever you want, whenever you want, no matter how many times you hurt me, just because you call me hot?”
Hope stared at her like the answer was obvious. “Yeah.”
“You have no intention of turning it back on, do you?” Tears shone in her eyes now, visible to Hope.
“I never did.”
“That’s not true.” Lizzie’s voice was getting too high-pitched for her own comfort. “You cried. You cuddled with me. You were close.”
“You’re kidding yourself—”
“No, I know.” Lizzie put her foot down. “I know there was a crack in your humanity somewhere. It was creeping back in. You wouldn’t have fought against it so aggressively if you didn’t think so too.”
“Fine. Seeing Landon in danger like that made me lose it a little,” Hope said through gritted teeth. “But I’m back now. Back to me. I’m not flipping my switch for anyone, and nothing you do can change my mind. Now, will you be my escort or not?” She stuck out her hand.
Something washed over Lizzie. Something simultaneously cold and warm, comforting and chilling. Something like giving up and letting go. It came with an idea.
“I’ll be your escort on one condition,” Lizzie said, holding her chin high in the air.
Hope rolled her eyes impatiently. “What?”
“When the pageant is done, when you’ve won your crown and laughed in everyone else’s faces, when we’re done dancing and I’ve helped you out of your dress and inevitably slept with you one more time because I am just that weak, compel me.” Lizzie swiped at the tears streaming freely down her cheeks. “I don’t want a single memory of you left. I can’t keep looking at you and seeing two different Hopes—the you you used to be and this monster you are now. Take away every memory we have because there are too many good ones. Please.”
Hope’s eyes widened, and her lips parted. For a moment, Lizzie foolishly hoped she’d flipped her switch back in some miraculous turn of events spurred on by true love. But this wasn’t her epic Star Wars fanfic. This was real life. And Hope just nodded.
“Fine by me,” she said coldly.
Lizzie took her hand shakily. “Then it would be my honor to be your escort, Miss Mikaelson.”