My pulse quickens as the mansion comes into view, looming over the street. It has a gothic look, with stained glass windows, pointed arches, and spires reaching into the night sky. No wonder people say it’s haunted.
Even from here, I can hear the bass pounding, thethump-thump-thumpin sync with my heartbeat.
The closer I get, the tighter the knot in my stomach pulls. A part of me is screaming to turn around and go home. I could have been in the safety and comfort of my dorm room, eating pizza and watching scary movies right now. Yet, here I am, walking toward a giant mansion full of people, subjecting myself to the torture that is social interaction.
All because a football player smiled at me.
But the other part of me, the one that took control, is determined to see this through.
I can handle a party, I tell myself. Just one night, a couple of hours. Then I can go back to my hermit cave and pretend none of this ever happened.
Best-case scenario? It was all a fluke, and when I see Josh again, I won’t feel anything. No spark. No tingle. Nothing. Just a casual hello and a handshake. A normal, platonic moment between two dudes, and then I can go on living my life, happily ignoring jocks for the rest of my college years.
Maybe I’ll even end the night with Caroline. Or some other girl. At this point, I’m not that picky. I just want to get laid and prove to myself that what happened earlier was a one-time thing, nothing worth obsessing over.
If it happens again? Then I guess I’m a little less straight than I thought. And that, well, is something to figure out. Later. After the party.
Either way, I need answers, and I won’t find them by hiding out and brooding in my room.
I suck in a breath and head up the cobblestone path toward the mansion.
The front yard is crowded with tombstones, pumpkins, and skeletons. Cobwebs hang from the trees, and a fog machine blasts a low-hanging mist onto the ground. Whoever decoratedthis place clearly went all out, and the spooky vibe gives me a thrill of excitement.
I’ve got to admit, walking through a Halloween graveyard dressed as a fallen angel, with a haunted mansion ahead and the moon casting eerie shadows, feels pretty epic.
Maybe tonight won’t be so bad after all.
That thought flies out the window the second I step inside and remember why I hate parties. A wall of heat and noise slams into me, followed by the stink of sweat and cheap deodorant. The entry hall and staircase are crammed with people, all shouting over each other and clutching red plastic cups. The music is blasting so loudly that the bass thrums in my bones.
“No fucking way!” someone screams from down the hall, and a second later, Ana’s throwing her arms around my neck. “I can’t believe you actually came! This is already the best Halloween ever!”
She pulls back, grinning from ear to ear, then takes a moment to admire my costume.
“You look hot as fuck, Sebas. Fallen angel, huh? Ready to sin?”
“That’s the plan,” I say with a smirk.
“Oh my God, who is this new version of you? I swear, if you weren’t, like, my best friend, I’d totally jump you right now.”
I laugh, knowing she doesn’t mean it. “Thanks, Ana. You look amazing, too.”
She twirls around, showing off her skintight witch costume. Her wavy copper hair is tied back in a ponytail, and her lips are painted a deep, sultry red. Her boobs are practically spilling out of the dress, and the heels she’s wearing put her almost at my height.
When she stops twirling, she winks at me and says, “This witch is looking for a nice, thick broomstick to ride tonight.”
“Jesus, Ana. Put a warning label on it, would you?”
“Hey, it’s Halloween, baby. I’m allowed to be slutty.”
“Got someone in mind already?”
Her lips curl into a wicked smile. “I was hoping... Josh? Or do you think he’s out of my league?”
“What?” I blurt out, an icy shiver crawling up my spine. “Josh? As in pumpkin-Josh?”
“Yeah, I told you. He is so hot. Have you seen those arms?”
Amidst all my confusing, conflicted thoughts, I kind of forgot that the whole reason we approached him in the first place was because Ana has the hots for him.
