It’s not like she would have said yes anyway. We spent almost the entire afternoon together and some of the evening. It would be a miracle if she wasn’t already tired of me now.
“I’m going to the Texas Chainsaw Massacre maze,” Enzo announces. “It doesn’t look as terrifying.”
As they scramble away from the entrance of the maze, I allow myself to laugh at their cowardice—the wimps.
Looks like you’re on your own this time, Ryder.
I take a deep breath and approach the front of the line, where a girl with the standard park employee uniform waits. “How many?”
“Just me,” I answer, to which she shakes her head and clicks her tongue.
“Bad choice, my dude. Good luck.”
The unspoken rule: never walk into a haunted maze alone. I step inside the maze and am instantly, greeted by a scare actor,in full makeup and costume, popping out of the left wall. I raise my brows at him and continue walking.
This might be hard to believe, but tonight’s adventure is my first foray into Halloween Horror Nights. Sure, I have an annual pass but with college, work, and the distance—I grew up in Silicon Valley, which is at least a ten-hour drive from here—my family and I never got the chance.
My uncle was the one who gifted me and my sister the passes. Not my parents and I can’t thank him enough because I was the twin who enjoyed this park—not Carly, which is kind of ironic.
After turning a corner, another zombie pops out and I jump. Okay, that was a good scare. This zombie, in particular, is a short girl around my age with extremely tattered blonde hair.
I wave with my free hand. “Hi, Bailey.”
She doesn’t say anything. Of course, she can’t. As a scare actor, she’s not allowed to break character. I wonder how far Jake got because he knew this was the maze Bailey was working.
For the most part, it takes two more scare actors to jump before I give up and turn around and start going back the way I came. Maybe this maze isn’t for me. It looked hella scary on the outside but—except for my cousin—it’s a disappointment within.
That description hits a little too close to home.
Before I can turn another corner, I feel something tough bump into Bartholomew, who is practically pinned to my chest.
“Oof!Mierda!”
I tense slightly because I only know one person who habitually curses in Spanish, and it’s sure as hell, not Jake—and he’s a Spanish major.
I press both of my hands on Diana’s shoulders, effectively dropping the stuffed minion, and steadying her. When I look up from her, I realize that she’s not alone. Two of her roommates—Madi and Emma, to be more specific—accompany her.
Madi is the first one to speak. “Hey, Carson. Is it just you?”
I nod.
“Is this maze somewhat scary? This one over here got bored during theFriday the Thirteenthwalkthrough.” She jabs a thumb at Diana, who turns redder than the ribbon in her hair.
“Jason Voorhees was not as scary as in the movie,” she murmurs, picking up Bartholomew from the ground. “It was disappointing.”
“Well, I hate to break it to you girls,” I say. “But so is this one. I was just about to leave.”
Emma sighs in relief. “Thank goodness.” Then, her eyes widen. “Not to you leaving, but the scare.”
“Emma’s a little jumpy,” Diana explains. “The zombies aren’t that horrifying.”
“So you say,” Emma says sarcastically.
I check my watch for the time. The night is still young and I don’t plan on visiting every attraction in Horror Nights. Only the ones that are worth it.
“I’ll keep you girls company,” I suggest. “Ward off all the scary zombies.”
Madi hums, Emma nods, while Diana sarcastically responds with, “Our hero.”
