10.

W hen Jacqueline woke the next morning, she felt deliciously sore. She stretched out on the bed and yawned. She could feel sunlight streaming into the room and warming her. The rest of her body felt cold, though, and she opened her eyes and looked down. She was naked, and she wasn't in her soft, warm bed at home.

She was still in the haunted house from the night before.

She looked over, and the opposite side of the bed was empty.

"No Zeke," she whispered. Of course, there wouldn't be a Zeke. Because he had offered her something she couldn't really have, hadn't he? He'd given her the best damn night of her life, and then he'd left like everyone else.

She'd been silly to accept his story about being cursed. It had almost felt real. In fact, at moments throughout the night, she'd believed that it was real. Zeke certainly had seemed like it.

Only, it couldn't have been the real Zeke, right? That kid went missing years ago, and everyone was certain he was dead. If he was alive right now, he'd be an old man.

"Then why did it seem so real?" Jacqueline muttered to herself. She quickly redressed as she considered her surroundings. She was still in the strange bed in the strange house. The storm had stopped, which was nice. She'd have to walk home, but at least it wouldn't be in the rain.

Jacqueline carefully made her way downstairs through the dusty house. When she reached the front door and stepped outside, she paused. There was a jack-o'-lantern on the front stoop. She stopped, squatted down, and stared at it.

"Zeke?"

There was no way. It was a fake story made up to explain why he was going to leave her the next morning. Instead of being normal and just saying, "This is one night only," Zeke had fabricated a tale to take away any sadness that she might feel.

Well, it hadn't worked.

She still felt sad even though he was gone, and mostly, she felt disappointed that the first time she'd felt connected with a guy in such a long time, she'd lost him immediately.

Oh well.

She could keep the pumpkin as a reminder to herself. She could find love. She could find hope. Most of all, she could find someone who made her feel magical.

She couldn't shake the fact that Zeke had seemed to really believe the story he was telling her, though, and as Jacqueline walked home, she wondered whether anything he'd said had been true.

Had he felt lost?

Had he actually understood how she felt?

She made her way down the street carrying her new pumpkin in front of her. She didn't bother checking her phone. It was undoubtedly dead, and it was probably filled with anxious texts from her friends. Emma would be wondering where she was, and why she hadn't called, and probably, she'd want to know why Jacqueline had been so careless as to run off with a stranger.

Why had she been so reckless?

It was unlike her, for sure, but Jacqueline had enjoyed herself so much that despite how things ended, she didn't regret the night.

When she got home, she set the pumpkin on her coffee table. She stared at it for a long time.

"What if Zeke's story was even remotely true?" Jacqueline asked quietly. She stared at it. Two eyes seemed to stare back at her, but the pumpkin didn't move. If Zeke's story was true — which would be impossible, of course — then Jacqueline needed to find out everything she could about him.

His story must have been fake, but Jacqueline wanted to believe that it wasn't, that it was real, that somehow, despite everything, she could be falling in love with a jack-o'-lantern man.