“As you wish, just figured with a killer on the loose.”
When he puts it like that, it’s kind of hard to argue. I finish putting myself together, and without another word, I leave him standing there.
“Not even a goodbye? I feel used,” Sam says from behind me, and I cast him a look over my shoulder and give him a middle finger before dropping the gate down fully.
“Thanks for the fun, asshole. But I gotta go pick out a prom dress with your sister.”
LACEY
Girls Just Wanna Have Fun by Cyndi Lauper
Ithought spring was supposed to be warmer. Sunnyvale is the most misleading town name. It’s never sunny here. It’s starting to get cold out tonight, and my breath leaves my lips in short little white clouds as I exit the mall.
“You sure you don’t want a ride?” Jessica asks, which is nice and all but there’s no way I’m getting in the car with her pervy stepdad Steve. I’m legal now, and everyone in this town knows that creeper Steve likes to stare at the barely legals a little too long.
“No thanks,” I holler at her and give her a small wave. “Sam is coming to get me.”
Something flashes across her face, a look of guilt perhaps. She shouldn’t be feeling sorry for me, I’ll be cruisingwith my boyfriend while she’s stuck with Steve. I should be the one feeling bad for her. It must be hard being new your senior year, but she could try a little harder. A little makeup wouldn’t kill her.
I watch as her station wagon lights disappear into the last fading embers of the day. A small breeze whips across the parking lot, sending a shiver running through me right as all the streetlights flick on.
“Damn it, Sam. Where are you?” I mutter to myself more than to anyone.
I uncross my arms and adjust the bag in my arms to twist my wrist and look at my watch. Fifteen after seven. He was supposed to be here at quarter to. All the other girls are long gone, and it’s starting to get dark. And cold.
“You have five more minutes and I’m walking,” I mumble to imaginary Sam.
A mother walks out of the doors to my right, holding the hand of her daughter who looks to be about eight or nine. She gives me a look of mild concern but I smile and nod reassuringly. She looks like she might say something but finally turns and hurries her dark-haired daughter off to their station wagon. I really don’t need random moms to be pitying my lonely ass at the mall, so I’m out.
Pushing off the brick wall, I navigate the sidewalk around the edge of the parking lot and towards the back entrance. If I’m going to walk home, I’m going to take the side streets. I always feel far too exposed walking along the main road. The night is getting deeper and darker by the minute, and my baby blue mini sweater is totallynot keeping me warm enough. I would have worn a coat if I knew I’d be walking.
“Damn it, Sam,” I grumble as I walk, readjusting the dress bag in my arms.
I was finally able to get a prom dress tonight. Not the one I originally wanted though. No, Stacey said that one was too formal. She said it looked like a bridesmaid’s dress. I guess I get what she was saying. We all ended up getting the same dress but in different colors. It’s sequined with a tight bodice and huge skirt with tons of tulle. The entire prom queen nominee lineup will be matching. It’s going to look totally dope in photos! Stacey got pink, of course—her signature color. Whitney, Stacey’s newest and favorite lackey now that Nicole is gone, got purple. I got teal, which I have to admit looks fabulous with my new tan and my blonde hair. Jessica was the most difficult to get to agree, but finally she relented and grabbed a sapphire blue one which will look stunning on her. Maybe she’ll let me do her hair for—
A noise behind me pulls me from my thoughts.
“Hello?” I ask, spinning to turn around.
The swiftly darkening street is empty. There’s not a living creature in sight. And yet, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m not alone. A pit begins to form in my stomach, a gnawing ache of growing anxiety. I swallow down the lump beginning to form in my throat.
“Sam? Is that you?” I ask, louder this time.
I readjust the bag in my arms. The crinkle of the plastic dressbag is loud across the empty silence surrounding me. I wait another moment, nothing.
Maybe it was all in my head.
Turning, I continue walking down the side street, towards the busier road ahead. This time, my steps are swifter. If I can just get to Hoover Street, which is just ahead of me, then I’ll be in a neighborhood, surrounded by houses and families. Safety. Close. So close.
Then I hear it again—footsteps.
Someone’s following me. Stalking me.
“What the hell?!” I shout as I spin around again, expecting to find the street empty behind me. But I’m wrong.
Standing behind me is a figure cloaked in blackness and shadows. They’re dressed in all black, and their face is covered by a mask—a grotesque pig mask. The pink plastic is wrinkled and mottled. Red and brown rims each of blackened eye holes.
“Wh—who are you?” I mutter as I take a step away.
