by Sarah Sutton
Classes passed slowly. I had to suffer through stupid ocean puns—“Shell we go over our homework?” and “Seas the day, kids!” and “Who’s feeling fin-tastic today?”—and I was about ready to smack anyone who spoke to me. I’d have to endure a whole week of this nonsense. Dressing up, stupid puns. It was going to be a rough week.
As the day went on, I got to see that many people had the wise ideas to dress up as mermaids, which only served as a potent reminder of this morning. Would Lucas and Hailey match every day of costume week? Were they going to the Halloween Bash together?
Something inside me went very still very fast. For high schoolers, the Halloween Boo-Bash was considered to be bigger than the homecoming dance. Not quite as grand as prom, but close. Like Lucas had said, people dressed up as couples with their dates.
Would Lucas and Hailey dress up together?
I pulled my backpack over my shoulder and brought it around to my chest, peeking inside to find Dad’s orange letter winking at me. Inexplicably, looking at the thing made me it easier to breathe. Like I could remember more important things existed than Lucas and Hailey and stupid Halloween parties and princess costumes.
I reached in and ran my fingertip along the front of it, tracing the blocky black penmanship.
Ridiculous. After zipping my backpack shut, I slung it over my shoulder, heading for the double doors. Tomorrow was “dress like your favorite celebrity” day, so that would be the best. I’d be trading in shell yeahs for stupid celebrity catchphrases and TV show quotes. Maybe I’ll call in sick. Yeah, Gram, I’m not feeling too well.
“You ready for your next October activity?” Without warning, Lucas saddled up next to me, a textbook in his hand, jacket in the other. His mermaid tail swooshed against the linoleum floors as we walked, his steps more of a shuffle. “It’s going to be fun.”
“Oh, we’re still doing that?” I asked, unable to look at him. “I would’ve thought after our scary movie nightmare, we’d throw in the towel.”
“You agreed to four outings,” Lucas said, stepping ahead of me to open one of the doors. He moved unthinkingly, out of habit, holding it out so I could pass through. “We still have three more. Now, I know you’re a quitter, but I’m not.”
I sucked in a sharp breath, the blow low enough to hurt. He’d spoken in a lighthearted tone, but it still stung.
Squaring my shoulders, I walked past him into the chilly October air. A bright coral color burned the corner of my eye. “I can’t take you seriously with that thing on.”
He readjusted his seashell bra. “It’s cute, right? It goes with my complexion.”
“And Hailey’s.”
Our eyes met. I would’ve thought his expression might look smug, teasing. A “you’re jealous, aren’t you?” comment coming from his mouth.
But he didn’t look smug. A beat of silence passed, and I would’ve given anything in the world to know what he was thinking. Did he draw out the silence to make me squirm? Was he thinking about Hailey and her seashell bra? Did he know I was jealous?
“Can I give you a ride home?” Those blue eyes traced my face gently, like a caress of a fingertip.
“I’d rather walk.” I wasn’t sure if that was the truth or yet another lie. They were stacking up lately.
But if my answer disappointed Lucas, he didn’t show it. “I already checked with Donnie, and he said he’s up for tonight. I’ll swing by your place at six?”
“Wait, tonight? Jeez, will you ever give me notice?”
“I like to keep you on your toes,” he said with a wink, one that practically flashed through me.
Goosebumps swept over my skin as a breeze passed between us, pulling at my hair and winding it around my face. I batted at it, tucking it behind my ears, and for a brief moment, I fantasized about the idea of Lucas reaching out. He’d push my hair back himself, his skin grazing my cheeks in the process. He used to do that when he wanted to look into my eyes, to see right through me.
Lucas shuddered as the breeze caught at his bare arms, but that was his only reaction. His free hand tightened into a fist. “So, tonight works?”
“I’ll have to check with Gram,” I said, using my one last possible excuse. But we both knew what she’d say.
“Of course you can go out tonight,” Gram assured when I asked, tucking a hanger of something into the racks of costumes. It was black, that much I could see, but I couldn’t remember if we had any black costumes. She’d been messing with a scrap of black fabric the other day, the more I thought about it. Probably something she was working on for a new party. “You don’t have to ask me for permission, Blaire. I trust you.”
I slumped into the chair in the corner of the room, sighing. Yeah, stupid of me to hold out hope that she’d have a different answer, but that was the last card I could play. “You shouldn’t trust me. I make dumb decisions.”
“All teenagers make dumb decisions,” Aunt Aimee said with a high laugh, bent over the sewing machine with her fingers pressed against a strip of fabric. She’d greeted me with a smile when I came into the room, her interest piqued now. “It’s allowed when you’re young.”
I’d always thought Aunt Aimee looked more like Mom than Dad, who was her biological brother. Aimee’s hair was practically the same color as Mom’s—a nearly brown blonde—and they even used to have it cut the same. Both tall, slender. Seeing Aunt Aimee used to open up a rift in my stomach, especially when everything had been fresh. She’d reminded me too much of Mom.
Now, looking at her only made my heart pinch a little.
“Don’t listen to her,” Gram sighed, waving a hand. “Name one dumb decision you’ve made in your life, Blaire.”
“I pour the milk in before the cereal. People think that’s weird.”
“Blaire.” Gram turned to face me fully, and the long skirt she wore belled out with the movement. She placed her hands on her hips, giving me her best parental stare. “You’ve never given me a reason not to trust you. Lucas and Donnie haven’t, either.”
Aunt Aimee stepped on the pedal of the sewing machine, bringing it to life. “I’d trust those two with my life.”
I narrowed my eyes at her because she so wasn’t helping. “I don’t even know what we’re doing. Surely you can’t let me out of the house not knowing where I’m going to be.”
Gram frowned a little. “Do you want to tell me what this is about?”
What a loaded question. I wished she could read my mind so I wouldn’t have to say anything aloud. I wouldn’t have to tell her about my breakup. I wouldn’t have to tell her how much Dad’s letter upset me. I wouldn’t have to tell her how I was so full of negativity lately that I couldn’t recognize who I was turning into.
My eyes glanced past her to Aunt Aimee, who tried to pretend like she wasn’t listening. “This isn’t about anything.”
With only two years of reading my cues, Gram was left at a disadvantage. We’d visited her house often when Mom had been alive and Dad around, but not well enough for her to read and recognize each of my idiosyncrasies. Like now, as I pulled at my shirt sleeves, covering my fingers, Mom would’ve recognized that something was up.
But Gram, still new at this, didn’t realize, and the gesture went over her head. “If you’re sure,” she said, gaze lingering in case I caved and spilled my guts.
“I meant to ask you the other day—Delia, Lucas’s little sister, is looking for accessories for her Halloween costume. Do you think she could come over and pick through what we’ve got? I think it might be fun for her.”
Delia had asked about it again at her mom’s tea party, when she’d shown me her bedroom. More specifically, she’d shown me the paint on the walls, a light lilac color. She’d been quite proud to have the pink gone, since purple was “much more grown-up.”
“That does sound fun,” Gram said, glancing at the table full of jewelry she had pressed against the far wall. A trunk sat right next to it with other odds and ends. “If she promises to return everything, I don�
�t see the harm.”
“Maybe you can pawn your glass shoes off on her, Blaire,” Aunt Aimee said with a wink, straightening out the piece of fabric in front of her.
“Don’t encourage her, Aimee,” Gram scolded, coming over and reaching out her hand. “Now let’s go make a snack before you have to leave, yeah?”
I found my eyes trailing back to the closet, to the black scrap of fabric Gram had tried to tuck in between the other garments. It stuck out like a sore thumb, a dark color among mostly light fabrics. Though I wanted to, I didn’t ask about it. I found myself grabbing hold of her small hand instead, allowing her to pull me to my feet.
I shuddered deep in my jacket as I stepped out of the small car, taking in the sight before me. For the first time since the start of all this Halloween nonsense, I actually felt excited.
I know. Scary.
Lucas had driven to the next town over, to Addison, and parked in front of Albion Family’s Corn Maze and Hayrides. For a Monday night, there were a lot of people. Families stood in line for hayrides or headed into the corn mazes. The farm even had an area where someone could buy pumpkins, and children wandered through the rows of them, trying to find the perfect one. I couldn’t help but smile.
This wasn’t me relenting to the spirit of Halloween. I refused.
Lucas’s boots crunched over the stones in the parking lot as he rounded the car, eyes darting between Donnie and me. “Who’s ready to hang with the scarecrows?”
“You mean get eaten by scarecrows?” Donnie’s eyes widened. “I’ve seen that horror movie.”
I gave him a serious look. “I’m definitely tripping you to live.”
“I’ll get a map in case we get lost,” Lucas said, patting Donnie’s shoulder as he brushed past. “No scarecrow eating going on in our group.”
Donnie’s arm stiffened as I looped mine through it, tugging him after Lucas. “You’re going to trip him first, right?” Donnie asked me, voice lowered.
I watched Lucas continue toward the map booth, his stride even and relaxed. He walked several paces ahead of us, almost as if he’d come to the corn maze alone. “Oh, totally. I mean, the ex always goes first. Never the quirky supporting character.”
“Hey, I’m only a supporting character?”
I snorted, tossing my hair back in a dramatic fashion. “Well, you’re not the star.”
Donnie hip-checked me, but since I was still latched onto his arm, we both stumbled together.
“Besides, Lucas is the one who’s supposed to be scared of horror movies,” I told him. “What’s up with you being afraid of scarecrows?”
“Uh, have you seen that movie where the scarecrow eats people? And eats the one kid’s eyes?” Donnie shuddered, whether from the cold or from the idea of getting his eyes eaten, I wasn’t sure. “It scarred me for life.”
“Maybe if we find a scarecrow, you can take a picture with it. Get over your fear. Before it eats you, I mean.”
He glared at me. “Not helpful.” Despite his serious tone, he didn’t let go of my arm. He puffed out a breath, which clouded in the air. “It’s cold tonight. I wonder how cold it’s going to be on Saturday.”
“Trying to plan out your Boo-Bash costume?” I couldn’t remember if he’d ever decided what he planned on going as.
“Of course.”
Lucas glanced back at us as he stepped up to the booth, hands in his jacket’s pockets. One dark eyebrow arched. “Are you guys coming?”
I hadn’t been to a corn maze in years. It’d been eighth grade, and I’d gone with Mom and Dad. We definitely hadn’t come here, because none of this looked familiar, but whichever corn maze we’d gone to sucked. The corn hadn’t grown tall, and if Dad had stood on his tiptoes, he could’ve seen through the wisps of the corn to the exit. He’d let me work my way through it, of course, and hadn’t cheated, but we’d ended up finishing in a matter of minutes.
I’d been bummed by how lame it’d been, but Mom—ever and always the optimist—had said the time we’d spent together made it worth it.
Yeah…looking back, I’d definitely agree.
“Welcome to Albion Family Farms,” the girl at the booth said as we approached, her smile blinding in the dark. She looked about our age, soft eyes glancing between all of us. “Are you here for the corn maze or hayride?”
“The maze,” Lucas answered politely.
“For the three of you, that’ll be fifteen dollars.” She popped open the metal box in front of her. “We have an easy, medium, and hard course—they’re all marked at the entrance.”
After Lucas passed over three bills, we made our way over to the maze entrances, and I gave him a cool look. “You didn’t say this would cost money. I would’ve brought some.”
“We talked you into doing this, Bee. That would’ve been lame if I expected you to pay.”
“I wouldn’t have minded.”
Donnie turned the map over in his hands. He’d swiped it up as we passed the booth, but hadn’t opened it yet. “Are we doing the easy course?”
I drew my arm from him, rubbing my hands together in anticipation. “Psh, easy? You can. I, for one, am going all in.”
Lucas’s expression didn’t change, but Donnie’s lips pulled downward. Even more so at my next suggestion.
“And I say we should go without a map,” I went on, glancing at the paper Donnie clutched like a lifeline. “Have some fun with it. Get lost and have a whole search party try to find us.”
“That does sound like a fun time,” Lucas said with an eye roll, but as he slipped his hands into his pockets, he had a hint of a smile.
Donnie shot us both a glare. “I disagree. If we’re going the hard way, we’re taking a map.”
Lucas glanced up at the sky. “Whatever we’re doing, let’s go before we lose our daylight.”
He was right. Sunlight was disappearing fast. The sunset stopped looking orangey-yellow and now clung to a purply-blue color. All the colors blended like a mix of paints, speckled with stars trying to prematurely poke their way through. Nights came early now that fall was in full swing, along with chilly breezes. I huddled deeper into my jacket, flipping up the collar as high as it would go, wishing I’d brought along something warmer.
“What made you think of a corn maze for a Halloween festivity?” I asked the boys as we walked through the maze arch, reading the sign: WARNING: Hard course ahead. Enter at your own risk. Dramatic much? “I never would’ve thought of this.”
“It’s a classic fall activity,” Lucas said, glancing over his shoulder in my direction. “This was my idea, by the way. We had two ideas each.”
“Scary movies were my idea,” Donnie added. “But the next two are top secret.”
Top secret. Yeah, I’d have bet money on the fact that pumpkin carving had made the list, but I wasn’t sure who would’ve picked it. Probably Donnie.
The corn shifted as the October breeze cut across the tops, the husks rustling together noisily. Run-down stalks crushed against the ground, and we walked on top of them, finding our way through. It almost looked like a horror movie, with the darkening sky and the crackling sound. The only difference, though, was the fact that I could still hear laughter from other groups of people wandering through the mazes, even children’s giggles.
We walked in relative silence. Here and there we’d discuss which way to turn, but otherwise, only the sound the crunching of cornstalks under our shoes kept us company. After a while, Lucas walked a pace or two ahead of Donnie and me, the aisle not wide enough for the three of us to walk side by side.
Stiffness clung to Lucas’s shoulders, pulling his jacket taut.
If Donnie noticed something off in the air, he didn’t say anything. Then again, this must’ve seemed like the new normal. Totally opposite of how things used to be. We were always talking, always laughing. Now there was silence.
To make matters worse, it started to rain.
Well, not rain. More of a sprinkle, but a cold one, and my shivering worsened.
Lucas stopped walking, letting out a sigh.
“What’s wrong?” Donnie asked.
“It’s a dead end.”
I looked around the curve of his shoulder to find an abrupt wall of corn. I swiped a raindrop from my eye. “Another one?”
Lucas turned around. His hair had begun to dampen, curling at the ends. Donnie’s had already full-on frizzed. “Let’s backtrack.”
This was the fifth dead end we’d walked into, but they branched off each other. We’d been walking in the same direction for a while.
Donnie left his map in his back pocket, keeping the spirit alive, but my fingers started to go numb. “I don’t even remember which direction we came from,” I muttered as we finally came back to a crossroads, three separate paths stretched out ahead of us.
“We came from that one.” Donnie pointed to the left. “I remember because I tripped over that piece of corn. Wait, or was it that piece of corn…”
“So if we came from the left, we should go straight,” I said, peering down the trail. It looked dark and quiet, as if no one was down there. “Or go right. Which one?”
Not many people were in this maze with us, families no doubt choosing the easier mazes. They’d probably had the right idea. I guess that ominous sign at the entrance knew what it was talking about.
“Let’s go straight,” Lucas said from behind me, stepping over fallen corn stalks. “We’ve barely started. Surely we can’t be that lost.”
“Didn’t we already try to go that way earlier?” Donnie leaned down the straight corn aisle and glanced around. “I think we tried to go through that one and we hit a dead end.”
“I’ll check out the straight path,” I told them, shoving forward. “You two head right. If I’m wrong, I’ll come find you. If you’re wrong, come find me.”