Chapter 25

If I’m goingto continue this new habit of following my girlfriend around, I really need to invest in a more stalker-friendly vehicle. The distinctive throaty rumble of the Chevelle forces me to keep too much distance between Molly’s car and mine. Thankfully, I know where Hayden’s house is and which roads they’ll take to the Old Miller Farm where the carnival’s being held.

Remy’s Ghostface mask sits on the seat beside me. Can’t have Molly see me following her around like a guard dog. Or worse, have anyone recognize me from the show.

The girls take two cars. Hayden’s BMW follows behind Molly’s little Bronco, and I try to stay a few cars behind them which isn’t easy on the narrow town roads. Once we get on the highway that leads to the farm, I’m able to stay back. Traffic gets heavier closer to the farm. This carnival has to be the most exciting thing that’s happened in Johnsonville in years.

I make the turn for the bumpy dirt road. Two cars ahead, Hayden slows to a crawl. The guy in the car in front of me lays on his horn.

Hayden’s middle finger appears out of the driver-side window. I huff a laugh at Hayden’s brazenness and reach behind my seat, quickly curling my fingers around my baseball bat in case the impatient asshole ahead of me decides to confront the girls.

Several sloppily marked rows have been designated with orange traffic cones and some kind of solar lights. Christ, we do a better job directing traffic and have better equipment out at The Castle. A guy dressed as a bloody gingerbread man waves a light stick and directs Molly to the left. Hayden follows her. The honker gets sent to a middle row. I ignore the gingerbread man and take the farthest lane.

The bumps and uneven ground rattle my teeth. Rocks ping and scrape the undercarriage. I reach forward and pat the dashboard. “Sorry, Black Beauty. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.”

I park in the first space I find, grab the mask, and slip it on. A quick glance in the rearview confirms I look just as stupid as I feel.

“Fuck it.” I step out and slam the door, then throw my hood over my head, check I’ve got my wallet and keys, then weave through the parked cars, headed in the direction Molly went.

I find the girls close to the entrance to the carnival. They’re clustered around Hayden’s car, talking and fixing their makeup, I guess. Hayden’s dress is similar to Molly’s, except it’s a baby pink with white and black trim. Kyla’s in a long, red gown with a wide black belt. Darcy’s in a black see-through dress with crazy straps wrapping around her torso and feathers on her shoulders. I can’t even guess what any of the other girls are supposed to be.

Maybe it’s because I’m so fucking obsessed, but Molly stands out like she has a ray of light beaming down on her.

Why am I torturing myself like this?

Like a proper stalker, I keep my distance behind Molly and her friends as they go through the ticket booth and pay their entrance fee. I’m sweating inside the mask but keep it in place.

Without taking my eyes off of the girls, I hand over my twenty and have an orange bracelet clamped around my wrist.

“Have a ghoulishly good time!” the attendant shouts.

I roll my eyes and walk through the makeshift gate. For a traveling carnival, it’s rather elaborate. Much larger than I expected. People are hidden by masks of every horror movie character from the last forty years. Sinister-looking clowns mix with Jasons, Freddies, and Michael Myerses. I pass at least seven different Ghostfaces before I hit the midway.

At least I blend in with all the other basic bros who found a mask and called it good.

I pass by a few couples that went all-out planning their matching costumes. A Barbie and Ken. Kermit and Miss Piggy.

Not one costume is as adorable or clever as Molly’s.

The girls are to my left, buying funnel cakes, corn dogs, fried Oreos and other fair-style food. Molly wanders over to a different booth and buys something that looks like a waffle cone. When I pass the booth a few minutes later, the sign says Fried Mac-n-Cheese. My stomach growls. I haven’t eaten since the morning and the mask isn’t food friendly.

Suck it up.

I spot Molly ahead of me.

Her short skirt and all the layers under it swish from side to side with every step she takes. She keeps slowing down to take bites of her cheesy waffle cone, forcing her friends to drag her along.

They finally duck into a tent set up with picnic benches to eat their treats. I keep walking and pretend I haven’t been following them for the last half hour.

No sign of Torch anywhere. What’d he do? Stand her up? What a dick. I should kick his ass for hurting her feelings.

Pick a lane Royal. You can’t be pissed she’s “dating” him and mad that he stood her up at the same time.

I just hate it when she’s unhappy.

Then again, his absence tonight probably saved my sanity.

Molly

“See, we’re having fun without any boys!” Kyla screeches in my ear, stealing the last of my cheddar waffle cone out of my hand.

“Hey!” I snatch an extra sugary piece of funnel cake off her plate and stuff it in my mouth.

“Did you hear from Torch?” Darcy asks me, as she also picks off a chunk of Kyla’s funnel cake. Kyla slaps her hand away.

No need to check my phone again. “Yeah, he’s not coming.” My voice sounds as disinterested as my heart feels.

Hayden snickers into her giant cup of cherry icy slush. “He’s probably terrified Griff will kill him.”

Is Griff the reason Torch canceled on me at the last minute? He’d sent me the original “probably won’t make” it text when I was home. Griff was there too, not out terrorizing Torch into breaking our plans.

“I don’t think so.” I didn’t tell them about my earlier run-in with Griff. But I haven’t stopped replaying it in my head either. I should have invited him to come with us.

“Well, Wade blew me off too,” Hayden says.

“I’m glad it’s just the four of us.” Kyla wraps her arm around my waist.

I lean my head on her shoulder. “Me too.”

“Don’t let me forget to bring a bag of cotton candy home for Jenn,” Hayden reminds us for the fifteenth time.

“We won’t,” Darcy groans. “Why don’t you just get it now?”

“Nah,” I say. “It’ll be all melty and gross by the time we leave.”

Hayden sucks the rest of her drink down in one long, noisy rush. “All right. Let’s check this place out.”

The carnival is larger than I expected. The Millers let whoever runs the thing use a lot of their acreage. Or maybe it seems huge because it’s dark and overwhelming.

We find our way into a circular area of booths housing dozens of typical carnival games. Except, these aren’t typical. Each one is horror themed. And the prizes range from decks of Tarot cards to cute and creepy-looking stuffed animals.

“Ewww,” Kyla squeals. “Zombie Brain Toss looks revolting.”

“I think that’s the point.” I stop and watch some of the players use a mallet to launch little jiggly “brains” into the open skulls of giant Zombie mannequins. “It looks hard too. There’s no good way to aim that thing.”

“These games are always rigged,” Kyla says.

“Yeah, but we’ve seen people walking around with stuffed animals and goldfish all night.” I nod to a group of younger teenagers carrying a huge stuffed unicorn skeleton.

“I guess,” she sighs.

We pass Frankenstein Operation where you have to put organs back into a giant Frankenstein strapped to a bed. Graveyard ring toss, zombie shooting alley, and finally one that looks like something I might be able to actually do.

Skeleton Ball. The prizes are all stuffed and squishy animals with creepy eyes and little colorful stitches.

“Oh!” Kyla points to a row of black plush bats and kittens. “Look at the bat. He’s so cute.”

The operator of this game is probably a few years older than us. He’s tall and almost thin enough to pose with the row of animated skeletons behind him. His jet-black hair sticks up in shiny spikes. As he approaches us, he bites on a small silver ring through his bottom lip.

“Greetings, ladies.” He holds out a ball shaped like a skull. “Would you like to sink the bone in the hole?”

Ewww.

Behind him, I spot a lone black, cartoonish-looking, stuffed rabbit with long black ears and a red X for one eye. The perfect mix of macabre and adorable. I point at it. “What do I have to do to win the bunny?”

Skeleton-man walks backward and snatches the bunny from its hook. “You’ve got thirty seconds to sink one ball in each basket.” He points to one of three fifteen-foot-tall animated skeletons holding a wide basket in each hand.

I glance at Kyla. “That sounds easy enough.”

“It’s like double basketball with a countdown clock.” She shrugs. “Right?”

The operator grins. “More or less.”

I can’t tell if he’s naturally creepy or if it’s an act for his job. But dammit, I want that bunny.

“Five chances for five dollars.” He holds out his hand.

I pull a five from my purse and set it on the counter.

“You’ve got this, Molly,” Kyla says. “You always crushed it in gym when we played basketball.”

“That’s being generous.”

“Positive vibes, Molly.” She waves her hands over and in front of me like they’re two sage sticks.

The operator lines the skull-shaped balls on the counter in a neat row. I pick one up, testing its weight. It’s almost squishy but kind of hard in the middle.

Now that I’m actually trying to launch a ball into the basket, the opening looks so much smaller. I aim for the basket on the left and throw. It hits the skeleton’s hand, then bounces away.

“Har, har, har, is your batting average legally drunk?” the animated skeleton barks while its lower jaw hinges up and down with more mechanical laughter.

“What the—!?” Kyla presses her hands over her mouth and laughs. “It heckles you too?”

“Twenty seconds,” the operator reminds me.

Oh crap. I forgot about the time limit. I pick up the next ball and quickly throw it at the right basket. It bounces wildly off the rim.

Shoot.

Ignoring the inane insults from the mechanical skeleton, I aim for the left basket again. It hits the rim of the basket, rolls in, then bounces out.

“What the heck was that?” Kyla yells. “That counts, right?”

“Nope. Gotta stay in the basket,” the operator says.

I throw my last two balls at the left basket and miss both times.

Well, that humbled me fast.

The operator holds five more balls in his hands. “Wanna go again?”

“Sure.” I slap another five on the counter.

The third ball actually lands in the left basket and stays there.

“Ah-ha!” I punch my fist in the air. “Right basket, you’re mine now.”

I line up my shot so carefully, trying to remember exactly how I got the one to stay in the left basket. I throw the ball with a perfect arc. It hits the rim, rolls around it, then bounces out onto the floor.

“Oh, come on!” Kyla shouts.

“Five seconds…”

Dammit. I throw the last ball without thinking and it ends up hitting the skeleton in the jaw.

“Har, har, har. Were you throwing with your feet?”

“Grrr.” I can’t believe I fell for this.

“Tell you what.” The operator steps closer to the counter, holding the bunny in front of him, waving it side to side, like he’s about to hand it to a toddler. “My name’s Bram, I’ll let you have the bunny if you give me your phone number. Maybe I can take you out while we’re in town.”

I stare at the bunny for a second. It’s cute but not that cute. “No thank you. That’s okay.”

I grab Kyla’s hand and pull her away. She runs to catch up, giggling. “Oh my God, Molly. I think Bram vants to suck your blood.”

“Hilarious.” I stop and side-eye her. “So glad we watched Dracula over the summer.”

She hugs me. “Aww, don’t be sad. Those games are rigged. Another fifty bucks, you probably would’ve had it.”

My attention’s drawn to a tall guy dressed in black wearing a Ghostface mask walking by. Swear he’s staring at us through those creepy black eyeholes.

Griff?

No, that’s stupid. He wouldn’t come here alone. And definitely not in costume.

“What’s wrong?” Kyla nudges me with her elbow.

“Oh, that Ghostface guy reminded me of Griff.”

She turns left and right. “Which one? I’ve seen like fifty of them tonight.”

“Uhh…” I turn in a circle, but she’s right. Five different people have the same mask. “I don’t know. Let’s go find Hayden and Darcy before they get into trouble.”

We follow the widest path through the carnival. Eerie music blares from different booths. Voices over loudspeakers invite us inside to witness horrible things. Characters jump in our way and try to scare us.

A big red-and-white tent stands in the center, but it’s crowded. In a quieter section shops and activities line both sides of the wide aisle. Face painting, a crystal shop, clothing, and other vendors I can’t read the signs for.

After all the walking and weaving through the crowd, an annoying painful rub starts aggravating the backs of my heels.

“I can’t walk another step,” I whine to Kyla, stopping in my tracks. “My feet hurt.”

We step out of the flow of traffic and lean against one of the buildings.

“I’ll let Hayden know where we are,” Kyla says.

Standing on one foot, I unlace my boot and carefully slide it off, then peel my sock down. “Oooo.” I suck in a sharp breath at the gory state of my foot underneath my fishnet stockings.

“Molly! Shit. That looks bad. Hang on.” She digs through her tiny red purse and produces a Band-Aid. “Will that help?”

“Oh my God, you’re a life saver.” I pluck it out of her hand and peel it open. “I don’t suppose you have another one?”

“Just one.” She glances down. “Which foot do you like better?”

I snort and rip a hole in my tights, peeling the material away from my oozing skin. I apply the Band-Aid carefully over the painful wound. “I already have this boot off, so this foot wins.”

By the time I have my boot in place, Hayden and Darcy have found us.

“What’s wrong?” Hayden asks.

“Blisters.” I point to my feet. “I thought boots were smart for tonight but apparently not.”

“You know what was a really dumb choice? Open-toed, high-heeled sandals.” Darcy holds out one foot, showing off her ruined black satin strappy sandal and her bare, mud-caked toes.

“I tried to warn you,” Hayden sings. “And what did you do? You made fun of my sneakers.” Hayden points to her bright-pink Converses that are also now covered in mud.

“Where did you two go that you got so…muddy?” I ask.

Hayden waves her hand toward the big tent. “This haunted house thing. It’s really cool but the ground is a mess over there.”

My aching feet force us to walk at a slower pace. But it gives Darcy and Kyla time to dart in and out of the small shops and let us know if there’s anything good inside we need to check out.

“Ah! That place has clothes.” Darcy points to a brightly colored tent up ahead. “Let’s see if they have some cheap shoes.” She grabs Kyla’s arm and starts dragging her away.

“We’ll catch up.” Hayden stops walking.

I stop my pathetic limping and turn toward her. “What is it?”

“We have to do it, Molly.” She clasps her hands under her chin. “Please?”

“Do what?”

She thrusts her arm out and points at the narrow red tent in front of us.

Madame Nova Darkwater, Fortune Telleris printed in gothic script on a sign.

I side-eye Hayden. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” she pleads, tugging on my arm.

“Fine,” I groan.

“Welcome, ladies,” a woman greets us as we push our way through layers of sheer curtains. Soft, colorful lighting floats in the dim space, giving it an otherworldly feel.

The woman’s sitting at a round table with two stools on the opposite side. She’s wearing a long-sleeved red dress with silver embroidery. A matching silver scarf’s tied around her head, hiding a good portion of her long, wavy red hair. Large gold hoops swing from each ear. Pretty much what I’d expect a carnival fortune teller to be wearing. There’s no crystal ball on her table, though. Just a thick, dark-red velvet cloth and a deck of Tarot cards still in the box.

I plop down on one of the low, red velvet stools and Hayden sits on the one next to me.

The woman stretches her arms across the table with her hands up and lifts an eyebrow at me. After a second of hesitation, I rest my hands on top of hers. She gently wraps her soft, warm fingers around mine.

“What do you seek to know, Molly?” she asks.

Her skin’s smooth and unlined. She’s younger than I’d expect. Maybe my brother’s age? But she speaks with the attitude of someone much older.

Wait, how’d she know my name?

I open my mouth to ask, and she shakes her head. “Focus on the question.”

“I don’t know.” I tilt my head toward Hayden. “She made me come in here.”

One corner of the medium’s mouth lifts. “At your age, I assume it’s about a boy.” She closes her eyes, her face settling into an impassive mask. “Ah, two boys. Interesting. One you love deeply who broke your heart. And the other one you like but…” She stops, thank God. “You still love the first one. There was a misunderstanding? You were embarrassed very publicly. Betrayed.” Her carefully groomed eyebrows pinch together. “So much guilt.”

Whose guilt? Griff’s or mine?

Her accuracy is so damn freaky. Did Hayden set me up?

The woman opens her eyes. Even under the odd lighting inside the tent, her blue-green irises shine like sea glass, staring straight through me.

“Holding onto all this unresolved anger and shame is much like sitting in the middle of a fire and hoping those who wronged you are the ones who will get burned,” she says. “Tell him the truth. All of it.”

This isn’t fun anymore. I yank my hands away from her voodoo table, praying it breaks whatever psychic connection we’ve established. “Thank you for the advice.” I shoot a glare at Hayden. “It’s your turn now.”

The medium smirks. “Follow your heart, Molly.”

“My heart is unreliable,” I mutter.

Not deterred by my super-specific reading, Hayden happily lays her hands on the table and the medium takes them.

“You’ve begun a new path recently,” the woman says, closing her eyes again. “But you don’t feel like you’re where you belong?”

I stare at Hayden. Is she having trouble adjusting to college?

Hayden blushes and averts her eyes.

“You worked hard to get there,” the woman continues. “And even though it’s a sacrifice for your parents, you are worthy, Hayden.”

The medium opens her eyes. “That’ll be twenty dollars, each.”

I pry open my wallet and peer into the almost empty cash slot. “You should’ve gotten the money upfront,” I joke, handing over a twenty.

She winks at me. “I knew you were good for it.”

Hayden pays her and we both hurry away from the table. At the tent flaps we stop and share a look.

“We never speak of this,” she says.

“Deal.”