Part 7 (2/2)
”Wait, no scary stuff? Does that mean you're not going to do the haunted house with us? It's the best part of the whole night. Every year, a ton of people sign up, hoping to get on the committee to do the Halloween House. They pull half of the volunteers from the high school for the community service requirement, and the other half are just super enthusiastic adults. Every year gets better and better as everyone tries to outdo the people that went before them. Last year they made everyone take off their shoes before going in the house, saying that Mrs. Sangiti made that a rule of using her house. Then they covered an entire room in spaghetti noodles.”
I blink at him. ”How is that scary?”
”No idea. But it was gross so people loved it.”
I squirm a little at the idea of getting spaghetti stuck between my toes. No thank you. ”Sounds like something I would be happy to miss.”
”Boo,” he calls again, but this time sounds like a jeering crowd. ”That's no fun.”
We rejoin our group, not saying anything else about the haunted house, but it's already taking over my every thought. The idea of people jumping out at me with chainsaws and fake fangs doesn't sound like any kind of fun I'm interested in, but I can already feel my willpower crumbling. I don't want to be left behind.
The sound of familiar laughter nearby grabs my attention. I look around, scanning the crowd until my eyes find the face I already knew I was looking for. Reece is standing in a big group of people, mostly guys, but also a couple of girls I don't recognize, and howling with laughter, almost doubled over. She's dressed as what I can only guess is some kind of fairy princess, judging by the crown and the wings, but the rest of her clothes is the same stuff she usually wore to parties back home-jeans and a tight t-s.h.i.+rt. A small mask, which was probably just supposed to cover her eyes to begin with, has already been moved up to sit atop her hair. So much for trying to hide her ident.i.ty, but she's clearly enjoying the attention.
Frowning, I turn away and try to jump into a conversation about the latest episode of some show I've never heard of. I make a mental note to check if it's on Netflix so I can try to get caught up before the second person in ten minutes sneaks up behind me.
”Reagan, I know that's you. I could practically feel you staring at me through that dino mask of yours.”
I turn around to stick out my tongue before remembering she can't see my face through the mask anyway, and find Reece making a face at me.
”Like you were so hard to figure out,” I counter. ”You didn't even try.”
”The mask was itchy,” she says with a shrug.
”Is everyone else here?” I ask.
”No idea. Rachel's brother drove us over. Reilly, Mom and Dad were still at home when I left.”
I want to ask where Rhiannon went, but Reece has already left to go back to her friends. I realize how little I know about the people my sisters are making friends with since we moved here. Before, I knew all of their friends almost as well as I knew my own since everything from birthday parties to movie nights to school dances usually ended up combining multiple groups into one big one. Now, I don't know who any of these people are. At least Reece would have had to have seen me here, standing around with a group of my own. If only I'd managed to have her turn up at a moment where everyone was laughing hysterically at one of my jokes. Not that I'd had one of those moments yet, but it could happen.
Before I know it, Kent is leading everyone over to the Mclusky house, where this year's Halloween House has taken over the otherwise colonial looking home. A graveyard marks the front lawn, and lights flash in each of the windows, occasionally revealing the silhouette of a knife wielding man. My heart starts racing all over again as I scan the area for anything that might want to jump out at me. I know nothing in there would really hurt me, but I won't know what's coming for me either. There's bound to be something in there that will give me nightmares beyond the initial heart attack it gives me inside.
”Who's ready to go?” Kent says, wiggling his shoulders like an overexcited flight attendant. Frank lets out a groan in response, but everyone else claps and hoots excitedly. I have a brief s.h.i.+mmer of hope where I think maybe Frank will stay out with me, but he steps forward to follow everyone else.
The house looms over me, but I'm resigned to going in, not sure if I'll be able to live down chickening out. No one has even looked back to make sure I was going with them, and as sad as it is, I don't want them to go through without me and create more memories I wouldn't be a part of.
”Only four at a time,” the man at the door says, moving his scythe down to block my way before I can enter through the front door.
Relief and disappointment collide in my gut. At least I don't have to go in. Everyone inside stops to look at me. ”No worries then. I'm too much of a pansy for this anyway.” That's it, the universe has decided for me, and I'm totally okay with not going in.
”No way!” Kent says, ducking under the scythe to rejoin me. ”We'll go in the next group.”
”Thanks,” I chirp out. I'm still getting used to being around Kent with his friends as a buffer. Now I'm going to stand out here with Kent and not make an idiot of myself. All before having to deal with strangers jumping out at me in a haunted house. The nightmares just keep coming.
Kent is standing right beside me, his arm inches from mine, and I try to remind myself to breathe normally.
Neither of us say anything as we wait for our turn to go inside the house. I try to follow every shriek, yell and howl that comes from inside. I'll take any clue I can get about what's coming next. But the antic.i.p.ation is only making things worse. And my brain can't decide what I should obsess over more right now, the house or Kent.
Kent. Kent. Kent.
I wish my stupid brain hadn't even let me think about him. Wasn't it in hardcore survival mode? Thinking about boys should have been its lowest priority.
Curse my stupid, teenaged hormones!
I glance behind me to find no one else waiting to go inside the house yet. Which means it will be just Kent and I, alone. It also means there will only be two targets for anyone inside the house intent on scaring incoming guests. If I shriek or pa.s.s out or something, there's no way Kent won't notice. We're already failing at small talk. It's hard to see this situation getting any better once a little mayhem and fake murder gets thrown in.
The undeniable sound of Rosie's laugh comes from above us and I almost jump right out of my skin and go running in the opposite direction, but instinct and terror keep me glued to the spot. She's laughing, not screaming out in pain. Relax.
A couple in their early twenties joins the line behind us, blocking my escape route anyway. At least I don't have to worry about being alone with Kent yet. It's something I want eventually, but maybe when the stakes are a little lower.
This is not how I imagined any part of tonight going!
I kind of wish my sisters were here with me. Maybe not Reilly since she's as big of a baby about this stuff as I am, but Rhiannon and Reece would be way better at standing their ground, probably scaring off anyone before they got close enough to touch me, or laughing at the ridiculousness of it all and making the whole thing seem like less of a big deal.
”Hey, are you okay?” Kent asks, glancing down at me. For the first time I really notice how tall he is, and for half a second it's enough to distract me from what's coming next.
I shrug, trying to seem uninterested in everything going on around me. At least my mask hides just how sweaty my hairline is getting. ”I'm fine. This will all be over soon, right?”
”You make it sound like we're about to die. This is supposed to be fun. If you really hate the idea, I promise I won't give you a hard time if you don't come in. I'll just make Rosie go again with me. Sounds like she's having fun.”
I seriously consider taking him up on his offer. But the couple behind us has already started making out, and I know that there really is nothing inside that house that can hurt me. Even if my nerves don't quite believe my head on that one. All I have to do is go through the house, then it's over.
This is my chance to get one-on-one time with Kent. Which is what I want. I've come up with so many ways the two of us could get some time together and the fear part of my brain is trying to ruin everything.
”You're up,” the doorman says, raising his scythe ominously, an effect ruined by the gum he's smacking.
”Are we doing this? It's your call.” Kent smiles, and I really do believe him that he won't give me a hard time if I decide not to go through with this. But it's that very same smile that has me wanting to follow him into the haunted house, or right across the state if he asks me to.
I should probably start with the haunted house and see how that goes.
Taking off my mask, I scrunch it up in my fists to give me something to hold on to. I'm going to do this, but I'm going to do it with a clear field of vision. ”Okay.” I nod. ”I'm in.”
Kent grins, and together we head inside.
My can-do att.i.tude shoots right out the window by the time the first plastic skeleton is flung from its hiding place to swoop over my head. I dig my nails into my hand to keep myself from yelling out, but find I'm actually okay. I knew something like that was coming, and the effect isn't nearly as scary as I'd been preparing myself for.
”Do skeletons even fly?” Kent asks as our group moves on from the first room to the next.
I'm too busy looking for clues about what's coming next to answer but the people behind us have already started mocking the flying skeleton.
The next room is covered in toilet paper, making it harder to see too far inside of what is clearly the kitchen. But not hard enough to see that I can't make out the black clad body of the person standing maybe five feet ahead of me. I s.h.i.+ft back, pretending to get distracted so that Kent will be the one in the lead.
There's no way he doesn't see the person reaching toward him, even in the gloom of the poorly lit room, but Kent pretends not to, pointedly looking everywhere but straight ahead.
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