Chapter 3

Three

M aple

“Maple-flavored beer? Come on. That can’t be good,” I say, reading the menu. Hollis has dragged me to a stall inside the beer tent, where a man in a hoodie stands behind a sign advertising local craft brews, scrolling on his phone.

“How can you not try it?” Hollis looks like a kid in a candy store. The man really likes his beer, I guess.

The beer man doesn’t look very committed to selling his wares, though. That doesn’t inspire me to try it.

“Because it sounds kind of disgusting,” I stage-whisper.

“Come on. You’re no fun at all,” Hollis says, nudging me with his elbow.

“I am fun!” I say a little too forcefully.

“Sure you are,” he teases.

I’m not sure I like this playful side of my boss’s boss. I especially don’t like that my body really likes it. Or that my heart rate increases every time he nudges, smirks, or makes any sort of comment about me as a person.

“I am fun,” I insist again, more quietly. Because that’s what fun people do, try to convince everyone how fun they are. Maybe he’s right. I need to loosen up a little bit. My newfound Bad Bitch would agree, wouldn’t she?

Still, there’s a difference between being a bad bitch and joining in whatever frat boys define as fun.

The man in the hoodie stuffs his phone inside his front pocket and says with a deadpan face, “If you make a wish and chug the twenty-ounce mug, whoever finishes first will get their wish.”

Hollis laughs while I snort in derision. “That’s cute,” I say.

“Aw, come on. It’s Halloween. Lighten up,” Hollis urges.

I turn to the man in the black hoodie. “What if I wish for no hangover?”

The man thinks about it and says, “If you have a hangover, come back and see me tomorrow and I’ll cook you my foolproof cure.”

Why do I get the feeling he’s not talking about food? He looks pale and drawn, with eyes set so deep it’s unsettling.

“Hear that?” Hollis nudges me again. “The man threw in a promise of breakfast.”

Rolling up on the balls of my feet, I whisper in his ear, “I think he means meth.”

“No, he doesn’t,” he hisses to me. “Just tell me you’ve never chugged a beer before, and let’s get on with it.”

The man in the hoodie smiles. “The first to finish gets to keep the glass mug.”

We each have twenty-ounce beer steins in our hands, filled to the brim with amber liquid scented with hops and, oddly enough, spices and maple. It sounds terrible, but the smell is pretty pleasant. A small crowd has gathered around to watch. A lot of grown adults dressed as witches, demons, and vampires. I mean, they really went overboard. One looks like a pretty convincing satyr straight out of a movie set, and the same goes for the orc and the gargoyle.

“Wow, people around here really take Halloween seriously,” Hollis says, smiling warily around us.

The man in the hoodie had me at “free.” I’ll do anything for free stuff, especially if someone else is buying the thing that gets me the free merchandise.

Clearing my throat, I turn to Hollis with my chin held high. “I just want to state for the record that people don’t need alcohol to have fun.”

Hollis bobs his head in mock agreement. “Blah blah blah, sure, sure. Are we doing this, Auntie? Or are we going to Bible study?”

Hollis makes my blood heat one minute, then boil the next. There’s no happy medium with him, and it’s maddening.

“I wish you could switch places with me for just one day,” I spit out, and begin chugging without another warning.

Hollis is already two seconds behind me.

I may not get my silly wish, but I will win this chugging contest. And that will be enough to hold over the head of my boss’s boss forever.