CHAPTER ONE
When I woke up on a cold sidewalk in the middle of the night, with a strange guy looming over me, the last thing I expected was for him to be the other half of my broken soul.
But in my darkest moments, Asher is my light.
“I knew when we collided,
You’re the one I had decided who’s one of my kind,
Hey, soul sister…”
I lift my glass to my bestie belting out Train’s upbeat tribute to me, the orange, bubbling concoction I’m drinking tonight surprisingly good, despite my trepidation of accepting a drink from a guy dressed up as roadkill.
The annual Halloween karaoke party for our building isn’t a bad way to spend the night, especially with the ragtag neighbors we were lucky enough to live with.
It could’ve been much worse.
“Happy birthday, Poppy.” I’m bombarded by Shaz, one of the three girls who live in 3C. She plops down in the folding chair beside me, bringing the chill of night air inside with her. “Are you having fun, girlfriend?”
I flinch as the rope of her long purple braid smacks me in the side of the face as she settles.
Shaz and her two roommates, Ines and Jada, came as KPop Demon Hunters and have been tearing it up on the balcony dance floor all night.
“How could I not? This party is always the bomb.”
“It is, right?” She lists over toward me and smiles, her boozy buzz in full swing. “And I love your costume. The two of you are so cute.”
Asher and I came as Sally and Jack Skellington. It wasn’t an overly difficult transformation, but I think we’re killing it. I used a wash-in red hair dye to cover my blonde. We took a trip to the vintage store for my dress and Asher’s pinstriped suit. And then, we added a bit of makeup for the finishing touches.
Et voila, The Nightmare Before Christmas.
The real selling point is the white bald cap covering Asher’s shaggy blond hair—well, and the fact that he is tall, and lanky, and a total ham who can pull anything off.
“Evening, young ladies.” Birdie Thompson is from 4A and moved in a week or two after us. She has a strange, bohemian bag lady vibe, and I’m never sure if her mismatched chaos is intentional or not. “I saw you girls dancing on the balcony. It’s as crisp as a chip tonight, isn’t it?”
“It sure is—” Shaz giggles when she gets a good look at the old girl. “Wow, that’s quite a sweater, Birdie.”
I can’t look at Shaz.
If I do, we’ll both burst into fits of laughter. Instead, I take another swig of my creamsicle-dreamsicle concoction and fight to keep a straight face.
The sweater in question is a lop-sided, orange and brown monstrosity that should be burned at the first possible opportunity. There’s a plastic jack-o’-lantern laced onto thething with green ribbon directly above her right boob and a crow on the left.
I scramble to think of something constructive to say about the chunky, uneven knit. “It’s bold and yet fiercely seasonal.”
Birdie beams. “Made it myself as an ode to the harvest of fall. I bet it brings me luck at bingo tonight.”
“If nothing else, it’ll distract the competition,” Shaz says, grinning.
Birdie either doesn’t register the comment or doesn’t care. “Well, I’ll leave the party to the folly of youth. I’m headed to the late-night sitting. There are two spooky specials tonight.”
I don’t talk bingo, but I try to match her excitement. “May the dabbing gods be ever in your favor, Birdie.”
Birdie pulls a plastic troll doll from her pocket. The thing has wild, slime-green hair sticking straight into the air. “Trolliver Queen appreciates the positive energy. Everything is about energy. You ladies are good vibrators. Very positive frequency.”
I cut off whatever inappropriate thing Shaz is about to say about vibrators by cupping my hand over her mouth. “That’s great to know. Thanks, Birdie. Have a great night.”
“You as well, birthday girl. Many happy returns, petal.”
