Part 4 (1/2)
After a few minutes of Mom-panic over the ”missing” car keys, we headed to our new home. We pulled into our narrow, sh.e.l.l-laden driveway and trudged into our small, one-story beach house. The inside smelled moldy, but I guess that's what they call beach-y. Old, beat-up boxes littered the hallway, but there really wasn't much to unpack, since our belongings were minimal to begin with. While my mom scurried off to scope out the tiny kitchen, I wandered back to my regrettably florescent green bedroom. Whoever thought this was a good color for a bedroom was seriously demented; I'll practically have to sleep in sungla.s.ses.
My room might be small and ridiculously bright, but it did have one redeeming feature: a large window overlooking the ocean. The view could not be more breathtaking, apart from a rickety old pier that seemed to extend endlessly over the sea. I've never been a fan of piers. The idea that the only things between me and drowning to death were a bunch of old wooden planks wigged me out.
I sat on the window seat, my back to the pier, and stared into the horizon. I was deep within a rather naughty daydream when I saw someone leave the house next door and walk towards the sea. He stood near the sh.o.r.eline, perfectly still. For some reason, his figure captivated me. I couldn't tear my eyes away from him. As if sensing my stare, he turned and looked right at me...my neighbor, Troy Tombolo.
Chapter Four.
A First Date with Tricks & Treats.
Who doesn't love October? The air was a little heavier, the days a little spookier, and the nights practically beg ghostly spirits to start singing, dancing, and frightening the bejesus out of living beings. On these nights, ghosts, witches, werewolves, and vampires creep out of the depths of impossibility and into reality...or so I like to think.
It'll be nice to have the chance at a true Halloween night in a seafaring town. In the inst.i.tution, doctors used Halloween as an excuse to play vampire with extra gusto. My expectations to connect with the otherworldly could not be greater. Until then, I have a date.
Trey asked me out first thing this morning, just as Airianna predicted. I had wanted to better prepare for the moment his lips said, ”Marina, will you have dinner with me Friday night?” Sadly, my weak preparation gets the big FAIL. Instead of replying with a bubbly, ”Can't wait,” my lips did the cla.s.sic tuck and curl. See, I have a tiny problem when it comes to dating: I gag. I truly repulse myself. Fortunately, Trey already knew about my reflex and fully expected it...well, maybe not fully.
Date time. Ugh. All this fussing about has left me wheezy. I really must start exercising. With a mere millisecond to spare, I heard the doorbell. I hurried to open the door, which was probably stupid since a cleverer girl would keep a guy waiting for at least a few minutes. Unfortunately, my hungry stomach nullified any cleverness I may possess.
Oh. Trey looked perfectly yummy in his dark pants and black t-s.h.i.+rt.
Yum. GAG. d.a.m.n.
”Another gag? Now, paranoia sets in.”
”Oh, uh, that was just sinus drainage.” I couldn't bear to look at him.
”Riiiight. Your mom around?” he asked, s.h.i.+fting his eyes.
”Meeting. No parental third degree for you tonight.”
”Nice. Ready?” he asked, offering me his arm.
”Sure,” I said, gladly looping my arm through his.
After driving to the main village road, Trey parked his jeep, opened the door for me, and led me to a large hayride waiting nearby.
”Have you been downtown lately?” he asked.
”I haven't been downtown at all.”
”You're kidding! How's that possible?”
”I've only been here a couple days. Plus, I go from home to school, then school to home, where I get my homework done, study, and stare at the water.”
”Wow. That's pathetic,” he said, nudging me.
”Yeah, it kinda is,” I said.
”Well, I think you're really going to like this,” he said, helping me onto the horse-drawn wagon.
”Ready, young ones?” asked the driver, a jolly Fairhair man dressed as a scarecrow, complete with stuffed crows attached to his hat.
”Shouldn't we wait for them?” I asked, pointing to a large group waiting in the shadows.
”They'll be waiting for the next ride, I expect,” said the driver, urging the horses onward.
”It's a group of Ravenflames,” said Trey. ”They're not going to share a wagon with two Normals.”
”Trey-”
”No questions. I want you to enjoy this,” he said, taking my hand.
When the wagon turned onto the main street, the driver announced, ”Welcome to Halloween Haven Street!”
The quaint village looked mystical, all transformed into a Halloween heaven. We pa.s.sed under thick Halloween-themed garland strung from building to building, while strands of orange lights and wreaths of golden leaves twinkled atop every lamppost. Mechanical bats flew madly about, swooping down on visitors. Happy, creepy, and artistically perfect pumpkins adorned every shop window and doorstep. Ghosts fluttered on invisible chords, and witches cackled and brewed potions from steaming cauldrons.
”This is incredible,” I whispered.
”If you think this is good, wait until you see it at Christmas,” said Trey, closely watching my every reaction.
”Thank you for shutting me up earlier,” I said honestly. ”I'm not even sure what I was going to ask. Sometimes I verbal vomit.”
Trey smirked and said, ”I just didn't want you to miss this...or that.” I followed his stare and...
AGH! A headless horseman zoomed by, aiming his seriously creepy pumpkin at my head. I immediately dropped to the bottom of the wagon. I so hope I didn't scream.
”Don't think I've ever heard someone scream that loud at the horseman,” said the driver.
Terrific.
”Are you all right?” Laughing, Trey helped me up and brushed off the hay.
”Stupid comes naturally to me. I'm fluent in stupid,” I said airily.
”Destination call for Harbor Haunts!” said the driver, slowing the horses.
”So, the main street is called Halloween Haven, and this restaurant is Harbor Haunts? Is the pro-spooky a year-round thing?” I asked, carefully stepping down.
The driver chuckled. ”Nah, they change the names with the holidays. For Christmas, the main street becomes Holiday Haven, and this place changes to Harbor Holly.”
”A holiday happy town. That's fun with a hoot of whoo hoo.”
”Now, before you go, I always a.s.sign official pa.s.senger nicknames. You, sir, will be Charming, while you, little la.s.s, will have to be...Yelps.”
There are no words.
”Goodnight!” he called, clip-clopping down the street.