He’s taller than me by a few inches, and I pull my hood back just to brush longer strands of my hair out of my face.
“I want you to come,” Lo emphasizes.
I shake my head. Why? Because I’m Willow’s boyfriend? Because he thinks I’m some loser without anyone to hang with on Halloween?
He stares right into me. “Jesus Christ, do I need to drop to my knees and beg?”
I blow out hot breath through my nose, and a bright flash in the distance catches my attention. We both turn our heads.
Paparazzi parallel parked down the street. Loren and the Calloway sisters attract them like moths to a flame, and they burn fucking bright. At least, I can get away from it. I can’t even imagine having to always deal with the constant cameras.
We only have a minute before we’re bombarded, and I don’t want to be in Celebrity Crush tomorrow.
So I quickly say, “It’s different.” Loren swings his head to me, confusion lining his eyes. I continue on. “This is a boyfriend-girlfriend, couple thing. I’m the seventh wheel now that Willow is gone, and I see that it’s a pity invite, man, so just leave me alone.”
He cocks his head. “Pity? Do you know who I am?” He touches his chest. “I have waded in self-pity too much to ever spare pity for other people. And you can ask Connor and Ryke in there.” He points to the limo. “I don’t aimlessly throw out invites like I’m a flower girl at a wedding. I have very few friends, and you’re one of them.”
What? No.
We’re not friends. It may have been years since I spray-painted Cock Sucker on his mailbox, but it doesn’t change the fact that I did those things. I don’t deserve his friendship. I definitely don’t deserve him trying so fucking hard to get me to go to his party.
I deserve none of it.
Me, being alone on Halloween is karma. It’s penance for all my shitty deeds. That’s where I deserve to be. Friendless and alone.
But he’s here spending energy on me, and there’s a part of me that wants to just get in the limo. That wants to give myself happiness and fun for maybe just one moment.
Loren tries to convince me again. “Willow would hate what we’re about to do. You, on the other hand, will like what I have planned for my birthday. So I’m glad it’s you and not her here.” He flashes his iconic half-smile.
Okay.
Okay. Okay.
I breathe and then nod a few times.
A cameraman jogs closer, and Loren casts a scathing, threatening glare at him to stay back.
The guy cowers a few feet away, but he still shouts, “Where’s Maximoff?!”
I glare now. Loren’s kid is only three, and paparazzi harass him more in one week than I’ve been in my entire life. And anyway, I’m pretty sure that Maximoff and the rest of the Calloway sisters’ kids are staying back with a babysitter. But like hell I’m telling this guy anything.
Loren ignores the cameraman like he’s evaporated into thin air and his eyes ping to me.
“Let’s go,” I say.
Loren’s lips curve upward and he slips around me to open the limo door.
What am I getting myself into?
Of course, Loren surprises everyone with a night at the Halloween Horror Fest, an annual October event at the nearest theme park. Mazes are decked out with decorations, and actors dressed as ghouls and zombies attempt to scare the guests.
Two out of ten on the “fright” factor. I swear I saw a vampire eating a pretzel on break. There’s nothing terrifying about that.
Before we even make it to a maze, we stop at an iron café table in a safe zone where the actors aren’t allowed to scare us.
Since I’m with the “core six”—as the internet affectionally calls Lily, Loren, Rose, Connor, Ryke and Daisy—bodyguards linger nearby in case they get a wave of unwanted attention. So far, only a few fans have stopped and asked for selfies and autographs. There’d probably be more if this place wasn’t so disorienting with the fog, screams, and eerie music.
Mostly, I ignore everyone around me, including the automated cries that come from the nearby mazes.
Straw between my lips, I hold a soda with one hand and scroll through my phone. Willow should be asleep by now. She went to her first Wakefield Halloween party, and she texted me a bunch of drunk texts about an hour ago.
Willow: Garrrrisoon! Ur face is pretty. I miss ur face
Willow: ur my fav person ever
Me: Are you home?
Willow: Not yet. Still at house. I’ll text pics. The decorations are… interesting
Whoever hosted just put out a bunch of fake spider webs and then a bowl of punch. That was it.
Willow: Lo would have a stroke if he saw
Me: Good thing he’s not there
Willow: I miss ur face. Did I say that alrdey?