by Gina Azzi
I chuckle. God, I miss my sister sometimes. “Same old. What’s new at home?”
“Oh, you know, our house looks like a pumpkin threw up.”
I laugh for real then, imagining the big crates Mom forced Dad to haul out of the attic so she could decorate the house like she did when we were kids, regardless that we’re all grown-up now. “Did she carve pumpkins yet?”
“No, that happy occasion is taking place on Friday night. Aunt Marie is bringing Cam over. Mom’s so happy he’s coming she bought new stencils.” Cameron is my little cousin. He’s nine. Sometimes I think Mom is relieved he’s in the family so she still has someone to do all her fun holiday activities with.
“That’s nice,” I say sincerely, a wave of longing for home crashing over me.
Nicole murmurs in agreement. “I’m happy you’re coming home for Thanksgiving,” she says suddenly, in a very unlike Nicole display of affection.
“Me too. Still going on that date for Halloween?”
“Ugh. We’re going to a costume party. How much do you want to bet that it’s an epic disaster?”
I snort, imagining my sister hanging out next to the punch bowl. “What are you going to be?”
“Who knows? Mom’s Pinteresting ideas.”
“Yeah, well, you better find out before you go as a giant bunch of grapes,” I tell her, remembering her ninth-grade Halloween party and the horrendous costume Mom made for her.
“Oh God, don’t remind me. Mom almost ruined my high school career before it started.”
I laugh earnestly. “It won’t be that bad. I’m glad you’re going out.”
“Yeah. I guess. What about you?”
“A party probably. I haven’t really thought about it yet. D’Arco wants us all to go as minions.” I wince. “Like we’re three. So that’s not happening.”
Nicole laughs. “Remember last year when Adrian made you guys go as Mario and Luigi?”
“Yeah. I remember. It was better than his original idea as Adam and Steve.” I smile at the memory. I definitely have to tell Maura about that crazy night.
Nicole chuckles again. “Good luck with that.”
“Thanks.”
I listen as Nicole rambles on about other happenings at home. The more she talks, the more the annoyance and frustration leaves my body, and the more I realize I’m definitely over studying for the night.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Maura
I used to love Halloween. I loved the decorating and the hoarding of chocolate. I loved the taste of candy corn and the months leading up to the big day, when all Adrian and I would do was discuss our costumes. I enjoyed tagging along with my mom to the rag shop to buy the necessary materials to create said costumes. And I adored trick-or-treating, following Adrian and his friends from house to house, up block after block, filling my pillowcase with an absurd amount of chocolates and candies.
As I got older, I enjoyed the parties. The creative and hilarious costumes people would think of. Passing out chocolate to the eager and happy kids who rang our doorbell.
But this year, my heart’s just not in it. All I remember is the slew of Halloween memories between Adrian and me, and I don’t want to go to a Halloween party knowing that he’s not celebrating.
I call home the day before, both relieved and nervous when my mom answers. I’ve been a terrible daughter the past few months, dodging Mom’s phone calls, ignoring Dad’s texts, only going home when it’s absolutely necessary. When Mom’s voice floods my ear, I feel a pang of guilt followed by a desire to curl up in her arms like I did as a child and fall asleep with my head on her shoulder.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Maura? It’s so good to hear from you. How are your classes? How’s crew?” She asks warmly, her voice stronger than the last time we spoke.
“Good, thanks. Everything is going well. Busy,” I fib.
“That’s great. I’m so proud of you, Maura. I want you to know that,” she says suddenly.
“Th-thanks, Mom,” I stutter, surprised at her display of affection after so many months of her unaffected detachment.
“How are the girls?” she asks, referencing Lila, Mia, and Emma.
“Good. They’re all doing great.” I recall a recent email from Mia and tell Mom all about the sightseeing she’s doing in Rome.
“Oh, good for her. I wish you were able to study abroad too. But I know how important your rowing is to you, so Dad and I didn’t push it.”
“Oh,” I say, surprised. I didn’t know she felt that way. I didn’t realize she and Dad would even let me go abroad. I guess I figured the cost would be too great. I mean, I’m at McShain on scholarship, not exactly in the financial position to go gallivanting across Europe.
“Maybe one day,” she continues. “After you graduate, you and your friends can take a big trip somewhere. You’ve got to get out there and see the world, Maura. Your dad and I, we were never able to really travel, but when I see the pictures Tia Jolene sends me from her vacations, I really wish we did do more when you guys were small.”
I swallow down the ball of emotions growing in my throat. My mom is never this forthcoming. I can’t even remember the last time she spoke so many words out loud. “I’d like that, Mom. Hopefully, we can all take a trip next summer.”
“Yes, that would be nice,” she agrees contentedly.
“How’s Dad?”
“Oh, you know your father. He’s very busy at the garage. We’re going to Tia and Tio’s for dinner this weekend. They’re having a Halloween party. I think I’m going to be a witch.”
What? Is she serious? My mom has Halloween plans and I don’t?
“Wow! That sounds like fun,” I say instead.
“I found that old wig you wore when you were a witch a few years back. And I do have a black dress and boots so …”
“Yeah, that sounds good.” I hate how I have nothing real to say. I wish I could tell her how I really feel, that I’m dreading Halloween because Adrian isn’t here. But I don’t want to say anything to dash the delicate balance she seems to have found for herself.
“Sorry, mi corazon, I have to go now. Tia Ana is coming over for a coffee, and I want to vacuum the living room.”
I smile at her words, bits of the Mom I know appearing through them. She always was a compulsive cleaner whenever anyone, even family, would drop by.
“Okay, Mom. I miss you,” I tell her honestly, relieved that I have something truthful to share.
“I miss you too, Maura. I’m so happy you called. I wish you would visit more.”
“I’ll try, Mom.” Guilt gnaws at my belly as I feel bad for how much I’ve been avoiding going home, avoiding interacting with Mom and Dad at all. Besides the obvious shame I feel for my own behavior and wanting to protect them from seeing the person I’ve become, I also haven’t wanted to see the empty shells they’ve transformed into. Although, it now seems that even my parents are healing quicker than I am.
“Okay. Adios, mi hija.”
“’Bye, Mom.” I hang up the phone and slump back in my desk chair.
Although I’m obviously happy that my mom seems to be moving past Adrian’s loss, I’m also surprised that I feel anger toward her obvious strides in healing. Is everyone moving on with their lives except me?
* * *
It’s Valerie Manelli who texts me about the Halloween party. “Please come! We haven’t hung out in ages,” she writes.
I stare at the message for a long time, noting that the address of the house party is within walking distance of my dorm.
Another text chimes.
Valeria: And don’t worry about Kay. She won’t be there as she’s the only person actually staying dry tonight.
Her words are followed by a series of emojis: laughing face, Halloween pumpkin, red heart, balloon.
Sigh. I should probably go. For starters, it’s way too lame to sit inside and drink alone on Halloween. Even if I did buy myself a massive Mr. Goodbar and a bag of Reese’s peanut bu
tter cups. Also, I know Valerie is extending an olive branch after all the crap that went down with Kay and me ditching practice. She’s telling me that there are still girls on the team who’ve got my back, miss me, want to hang out.
So I dig through my closet to see what type of costume I can come up with on such short notice. Finding one of Lila’s ridiculously short plaid skirts and an old-white button-down, I decide I can go as a Girl Scout. All I have to do is fashion a sash, pin on some old rowing pins, and carry around a box of cookies. Pairing the skirt with knee-high socks and a pair of boots, I try to sex it up a bit. I flip my hair over and scrunch some gel through my curls, raking my fingers over the roots for some volume. A bit of eyeliner, mascara, blush, and a swipe of lip gloss later, I’m good to go.
I check the address one more time, text Valerie back to let her know I’m on my way, and toss my phone into a small cross-body purse. Pulling on a North Face fleece, I step outside into the cold. The wind immediately whips my hair back and stings my cheeks. Above, the branches of trees swing dangerously. I’m shocked to see snowflakes tumbling from the sky. The snow is already sticking to the ground, maybe half an inch in some spots. Each step I take leaves a footprint and I smile to myself. I love the first snowfall of the season. Walking in the direction of the house party, I make a quick stop at a gas station quick mart for a box of cookies and voila, happy Halloween bitches.
* * *
The place is packed by the time I arrive. The party is being hosted by a fraternity, although I forget what they’re called as I make my way up the front path to the door and note the Greek letters fixed to the front of the house. Whatever.
Pushing inside, I’m assaulted by the smell of cheap beer and vodka, cologne and perfume, weed and cigarettes. The living room is packed with bodies all dressed up: sexy kittens and scary monsters, bloody brides and hot cowboys, a few one-night stands and ridiculous costumes I can’t figure out. People are clustered together in small groups, talking, dancing around the various pieces of furniture, or off in a side room playing an intense game of flip-cup.
I follow the scent of beer to the kitchen and wait in line at the keg to fill a red Solo cup.
“Oh my God! I’m so happy you came!” A slightly drunk Valerie, aka Tinkerbell, collides with my right side as she throws her arms around me in a crooked hug. “What are you?”
I hold up the cookies with my left hand and place my index, middle, and ring fingers together on my right hand. “A Girl Scout.”
She laughs loudly, the smell of vodka on her breath. “That’s awesome! I’m Tinkerbell!”
“I can see that.”
“Listen, I’m sorry about all the shit Kay said to you. I know now’s not the time, but I want you to know that we all don’t feel that way. Okay?”
I nod gratefully. “Thanks for inviting me.”
“Are you kidding me? I’m so happy you came!” She shrieks, throwing her arms around me once more. “Come on, let’s get you a drink,” she says as it’s our turn at the keg. A guy dressed as a farmer pours us two cups of beer and hands them over, winking at me.
“Thanks,” I say, accepting the beer.
“I’ll buy your cookies anytime,” he replies.
Ew.
I turn around and pull Valerie into the living room. We’re soon joined by other girls from the team and as we stand in our own cluster, sipping our drinks and chatting, I start to loosen up. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all. I’m actually starting to enjoy myself.
And then the front door opens and Zack walks in. Snow falls from his shoulders and hair as he nods a greeting to some of the guys he knows. My mouth falls open and laughter bubbles out when I realize he’s dressed as Jimmy MacElroy from Blades of Glory. Classic.
Zack looks up and his eyes meet mine, his lips part, and for a moment, time seems to freeze.
All I can do is stare back.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Zack
I approach her slowly, taking in her short skirt, the white button-down she has tied in a knot just above her belly button, the sash of pins crossing in between her breasts. Her dark eyes shine brilliantly and her soft lips curl into a smile at the sight of me. The angry and damaged Maura seems to transform before my eyes into an endearing, almost shy version that has parts of me melting.
“Hi,” she says softly, holding out her Solo cup to tap it gently against mine. “Happy Halloween.”
“Happy Halloween, Maura.” I take a swig of my beer.
She snorts appreciatively as she looks me up and down. “I like your costume.”
I laugh. “I thought you might. D’Arco is heartbroken that no one bought into his idea to be minions.”
Maura chuckles, low and husky. My hands clench in response. “You look good in shiny.” She continues, turning toward me and pinching the material of my outrageously bright green spandex leotard at the wrist.
“Come on now, I look good in everything.” I raise my eyebrows at her, daring her to contradict.
Maura throws her head back and laughs, her long hair skimming the small of her back. Her laugh is uninhibited, open, genuine. And she looks so carefree, I wish I could snap a photo and freeze this moment in time to always remember her like this.
“Truth,” she says finally, wiping the back of her fingers across her eye. “What are you doing here anyway?”
I shrug. “Phillips is friends with some of the guys on your rowing team. One of them is in this frat so …” I wasn’t planning on coming to this party but Philips asked and with Marissa dressed as Betty freaking Crocker, I took pity on him. At the time it didn’t even cross my mind that Maura may be present. Now I’m grateful as all hell to Philips for extending the invite. This night is already exceeding my expectations.
She nods in understanding. “I wasn’t going to come tonight but Valerie…” she nods in the direction of Tinkerbell dropping it low on the dance floor “…asked me to, and I don’t really want to burn any more bridges on my team.”
I snort. “Smart thinking.”
She punches me lightly in the arm. “Be nice. I was pissed and venting the other day,” she says, mentioning the morning we ate an absurd amount of pancakes.
“Oh, trust me, I know.”
She laughs again. The sound warms parts of my soul as some of the guilt over destroying her lessens. I wish she could always be this version of herself, not just around me but with everyone. Tonight she reminds me of the old Maura I would catch glimpses of when I went home with Adrian for a holiday or saw her at a crew party. The only thing that’s changed is the way she looks at me now, notices me, spends time talking and laughing with me.
Something deep in my gut clenches as I remember that she’d look at me with pure hatred if she ever knew the truth. That thought has really been eating at me lately. She looks at me as someone she can trust, as Adrian’s best friend, his brother. But she’ll never look at me again if she learns that I knew the truth about Adrian’s addiction and didn’t do anything to help him and hell, that it was my prescription that got him hooked in the first place.
No. She can never find out.
That’s something that can never happen.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Maura
I chat with Zack until Marcus calls him over to the kitchen to shotgun beers. At that point Valerie pulls me out to the makeshift dance floor, hustling me between the drunk bodies of a swaying Dracula and a group of Playboy bunnies.
Dancing with Valerie reminds me of old times. Suddenly I’m transported back in time to previous Halloween bashes, Christmas parties, New Year’s Eve countdowns. Mia, Emma, Lila, and I always celebrated the festivities together. Emma and Lila go all out: crazy costumes or themed outfits, wild hair, fun makeup, water bottles filled with vodka, a selfie obsession. Mia and I always hang back a bit, dress more conservatively, avoid drinking except for the occasional glass of wine, tone down our makeup. Ha! If only Emma and Lila could see me now. Hell, if only Mia, with her blushing cheek
s and sparkling eyes, could see me now. What would they think?
Valerie stumbles into my shoulder and throws her arms around my neck. “I miss you, Maura! I know you’ve been having all sorts of fun and wild nights without me this semester, but, really, you should invite me with you sometime! We only get a few short months to live it up before the season starts. And now Kay has us all on a short leash.” She gives me a knowing look.
I laugh. “Okay, Val.”
“Let’s do some shots!” she suggests, her eyes lightening.
“Done!”
We walk over to the makeshift bar, and Val leans forward to the frat guy playing bartender. He laughs at whatever she says and nods, pouring four shots of vodka.
“Bottoms up!” Val yells, holding her shot up to mine.
“Cheers!” I reply, throwing back the clear liquid that burns my throat and warms my stomach.
“Again!”
“Cheers!”
The second shot goes down smoother than the first.
“And now, we dance!”
I giggle, actually freaking giggle, and allow Valerie to lead me back to the dance floor. I forgot that she’s always been such a good friend. She’s sweet and generous and a lot of fun to hang out with. All the girls on my team are. It dawns on me how far I’ve left myself drift from the rest of them. The entire time I was blaming them for being too serious, too committed, too obsessed with rowing. Acting like they’re part of some ridiculous cult. When really I’m the one who changed, who couldn’t see past my own grief to give them the chance to be there for me. I shut everyone out, and then I wallowed in the loneliness of it all.
But now I’m out, shaking my hips and swaying my arms, laughing and colliding with Val. And I know Zack’s eyes are watching my every move. And it feels good, it even feels right, to be bonding with an old friend and being admired by the guy I want to want me just as much as I desire him.
He’s Adrian’s best friend. He doesn’t think of you that way. I have to keep reminding myself, because right now, with alcohol coursing through my veins, a buzz working its way up my spine, and his eyes watching me with obvious appreciation, I want to end my night in his arms, consumed by his kiss.