"Fuck, New Girl!" Krowe groans as I open the door and slide into the passenger seat of his truck. "Looking like a whole damn buffet, tonight."
I'm grateful for the blush on the apples of my cheeks, because it probably obscures a little of the embarrassment peeking through now. I take him in, the devilish smirk on his full lips, and quickly avert my eyes before I can get lost in thoughts of those lips on mine.
"And what are you supposed to be?" I ask, noting that he looks pretty much the same as when I saw him at school earlier. "Let me guess... the quarterback?"
"Dead quarterback." He winks and opens his letterman jacket to flash me a tear in his shirt, red blood painted on his flesh beneath. There's a pretty convincing stab wound there.
I wonder for a minute if the jock has a secret artistic side before he explains.
"My sister's in cosmetology school. She's been having fun with prosthetics, so I had her do me up for tonight."
"Shit." I laugh. "That's commitment."
"Hollow Night is pretty sacred around here." He shrugs. "You'll see."
"Hollow Night?"
"Mm." I watch him put the truck in drive, but when he grins over at me just before we start moving, I decide he's not going to explain. I guess he's right, that I'll see. "It's gonna be epic."
A thrill shoots through me, chasing moths through the dark abyss I’ve become.
Capturing the attention of the gorgeous quarterback wasnoton my Bingo card for sophomore year in a new college halfway across the country. Hell, it wasn't on my Bingo card ever, but here we are.
I watch the houses fall behind us, the yards growing larger as we pass into farmland, expanses of darkness undercut only by the glow of Krowe's headlights.
Six months ago, I was on the coast with nothing but the endless sea before me.
It's weird how drastically life can change in a matter of moments.
"So, who all will be there tonight?" I venture, anxiety fluttering right alongside those moths at the thought of being thrown to the wolves.
I've done a fairly good job of avoiding drawing too much attention, which is just how I like it. Hollow Fields is a small town, from what I've been told, but the campus parking lot always seems to be full. The college is fully accredited, I was assured, so I guess it makes sense. Why not spend the first two years at the local college, live at home and save some money, and then transfer to the University to finish out your degree? In the end, it all states that it's from Whitmore University anyway. Jobs will never know, and the ones that do, won't care.
"Why?" He chuckles, glancing over at me with that insufferable smirk on his lips again. "You scared?"
Terrified is more like it, but I only laugh. "Yeah. In case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly great at making friends. I'm the definition of socially awkward."
I’ve been here, in Hollow Fields for months, and this is the first I’ve gone out with anyone… and that wouldn’t even be happening if I hadn’t gotten smacked in the face by a stray football.
"You don't have to worry about that when you're with me." He winks. "Trust me, Scarecrow, you're gonna be popular tonight."
My stomach tightens at that suggestion, and I decide I'll have to take a double shot before we leave the car or else I won't be able to function past the anxiety threatening to turn me inside out.
I wasn't always afraid of people. I used to actually have friends, but it's hard to nurture high school friendships when you're missing birthdays and parties to rush your drunk mom to the hospital before she dies of an overdose.
My mother loves flirting with death. It's almost like it's a game for her. I've brought her back from the edge too many times to even care anymore; she'll do what she wants to do, and I will deal with the fallout. That's the way it's been since my dad died five years ago.
I don't realize I've zoned out until the crunch of tires over gravel alerts me that we're turning off the paved road, and I look up through the windshield, at the wrought iron sign the headlights illuminate.
Hollow Fields Cemetery
"I thought we were going to a party in the cornfield..." I venture, my throat suddenly dry at the sight of all the tombstones cast in the dancing light before us.
Two figures emerge from the mist, and I can't see much of them, but Icansee the letterman jackets… the deep blue with the large initials on the chest.
I should have brought my own jacket; it seems colder than it was when we left the house.
"We are going to a cornfield party." Krowe laughs. "It's on the other side of the cemetery. This is kind of like a shortcut."
