Penny:
Delete.
I couldn’t make these suck more if I tried.
Penny:
Delete. Delete. Delete.
This shouldn’t be so hard! We used to talk about everything. We’d send messages, from long essays to full conversations using only GIFs—sometimes no words were needed. I don’t think that would be appropriate in this situation. I’m sorry your dad is a killer but here’s a GIF of Tom Hanks waving on a boat.
Yeah, I don’t think so.
So, I end up sending nothing at all. Every time. Which is way worse.
“Penny,” my best friend, Adeline, says, sliding into the booth. “Gina has pumpkin-shaped sprinkles on the ice cream sundaes.”
I place my cell facedown on the table, ignoring the simmering frustration in my gut. I half feel like I’m waiting on Nash to reply…to the nothing I sent.
“You ordered us one, right?” I ask, though I’m not hungry. That seems to be a theme recently.
Can’t eat properly because
of the big ball of anxiety.
Can’t sleep properly because of the big ball of anxiety.
Can’t focus well at school or piano practice because…well, you get it.
I haven’t tried ice cream for breakfast, though.
“Duh,” she says, tying her tight red curls on top of her head.
“Sundae eating is getting serious.”
“You know it is. I ordered us the doubles.” She pauses, taking me in. “What’s going on? You look shady and you’re playing ‘Für Elise’ on your cell.”
I look down and realize I’ve been anxiously tapping on the back of my phone. I curl my fingers into my palm. “Everything’s fine. I’m just always practicing.”
Usually I can convince almost anyone of anything—you’ve just got to say whatever the lie is with conviction—but my most useful talent does not work on Adi this time. Plus, I haven’t played piano in a while.
She raises her brows, her pale green eyes full of suspicion, and leans back against the dark wooden booth. A move that I recognize means she’s ready to kick ass.
Adi doesn’t have any time for pretending when she knows it’s a lie.
“I was thinking about him,” I tell her, sighing.
She doesn’t need a name to know who I mean. Him is pretty much his name now.
Him is Nash.
Her is Grace.
That Man is Jackson.
As if saying their names will release Jackson from federal prison and send him on another spree.
“Don’t go there, Pen,” she warns.
My heart sinks to my toes. It’s not the reaction I was hoping for but it’s pretty much the one I expected. Nash is the one thing we will never agree on, the one thing she doesn’t have my back on.
“It wasn’t his fault.”
“I’m with you on that but you probably weren’t going to marry your high school boyfriend anyway. You’re off to Juilliard and he would rather die than live anywhere near a city. It was never going to work.”
That doesn’t mean I should write him off. Besides, I don’t know if I’ll get into Juilliard, not anymore, or if I even want to pursue music professionally. I’ve let it go in the last year, but I’ll save that little confession for another time. My parents won’t be too excited.
“What’s your costume going to be?” I ask.
“Nice subject change but it wasn’t very smooth. I don’t know yet. I’ll see what Party Town has. You still dressing as a corpse bride?”
“I think so,” I reply. I’ll never tell her that Nash was supposed to be a corpse groom this year.
We’d been together for a year before last Halloween and had our costumes picked out…but we never got to wear them because trick-or-treating was canceled, and his dad was arrested. We were going to be prisoners.
Ironic.
Now the only prisoner is Jackson Whitmore. Nash and Grace, too, if you count being ostracized by the town and isolated in your home. Which I do.
“Penny, try not to think about him.” Adi’s voice is soft and understanding, but it’s easy for her to say that. Nash was her friend, but it didn’t take her long to stop checking in with him. Same as our other friends Zayn and Omar.
“I want to text him.
“That’s the opposite of not thinking about him.”
“I can’t just turn my thoughts off. Like you said, it’s the anniversary. How must he be feeling?”
She shrugs. “Not your business anymore.”
This is getting me nowhere. I wish Adi was on my side with this one. She usually is, but Adi only likes drama that she’s not involved in.
We eat our ice cream, her devouring hers and me picking at mine, and then head to Party Town just in time for it to open. The street is heaving with people. Our small town comes alive during any holiday and Halloween is the biggest of the year.
Pumpkins, spiders, ghosts, and bats adorn every shop window and door. Small children are already running around in costume despite it not being Halloween until next weekend. To be fair, they’ve been at it for the last two weeks.
I remember dressing up the second October began when I was younger.
I loved the lead-up, the costume shopping, and the decorating. Mom and I always got spooky designs painted on our nails. Mine were black with white ghosts. Hers white with pumpkins.
It used to be my favorite holiday.
Adi and I walk past a group of people apple bobbing on the square, some sort of fundraiser. The mayor is dressed in a Cruella de Vil costume and filling buckets with bright green apples.
It’s hard to believe that our town was tainted with horror only a year ago when you see people celebrating. Jackson had always been a bit of a loner, nothing like Nash and Grace, who were popular in school. He owned a scrapyard on his property rather than farming on it, and kept to himself.
He never came into town much, only to get groceries or run errands. My parents never loved me going to Nash’s house because they hadn’t really met his dad. But he was kind to me, and you can hardly hold it against someone for being a private person.
That is, until they start murdering kids.
Nash said that his dad was happy and had friends who weren’t nearby.
I never saw them, and how could he have been happy when he was all alone? But I was always met with a smile and a hot chocolate. He made small talk and encouraged me to go for Juilliard.
We pass the phoenix again and I keep my eyes down this time, not wanting Adi to say anything else about Nash.
Just past the statue is the pretty yellow-brick grocery store with its stack of newspapers
outside.
The headline on the front page today reads anniversary of first brutal halloween murder.
Adi links our arms. “Look, are you okay with the Nash Situation? You know, not seeing him?” she asks, spotting me looking back at the memorial.
My friends all refer to the murders as the Nash Situation. I want to scream that it should be the Jackson Situation, but each time I’ve brought that up, it didn’t end well.
People our age died and that’s all that will ever matter.
Nash and Grace are collateral damage.
It sucks.
“Why do you care? You told me to forget him thirty minutes ago.”
I sound like a whiny five-year-old.
“That’s what you should do. I’m trying to be a good friend here. I’m sorry I was so abrupt earlier. You can talk to me about him if you need to.”
“Why the one-eighty?”
“Because you look sad.”
Great, now everyone can tell how I feel with one look. I can’t count the number of times I heard whispers of “that one’s Nash’s girlfriend” since Jackson was arrested.
“Penny?” Adi prods.
“I’m fine.”
“Cool, so you can start dating again,” she says with a small smile, calling my bluff.
No, thanks.
“Looks pretty quiet in Party Town,” I say. “It shouldn’t take long to find something.”
“Another dodge.”
I ignore her and reach for the faded, chipped blue door. Some gargoyle-looking thing hangs on the glass like a wreath.
“It’s locked.”
Adi peers through the window. “We’re right on time. Mrs. Vanderford must be running late.”
I lean back against the brick, between the ghosts and skeletons, and wait. “She’s probably dealing with Karter’s latest stunt.”
The shop owner’s son, who I unfortunately share three classes with, is a huge bully. He walks around angry, picking fights and telling others what to do. Adi dated him for five minutes when we first started high school, but she soon realized he’s a douchebag.
“Girls, I’m coming!” Mrs. Vanderford calls from across the road.
A few more people join us to wait for the store to open. Another girl from school, Mae, her group of friends, and some younger kids.
“So sorry, everyone,” she says, panting as she unlocks the door. “Car trouble this morning. Come on in.”
We filter into the store and hear her mutter something to herself about the alarm not being on and how her son, Karter, must’ve forgotten again.
I look over my shoulder to see her shaking her head and ranting about him being irresponsible. Her bad for trusting him, really. I wouldn’t trust him to babysit an egg.
Costumes hang from every wall and on racks in between. There’s a long section for decorations. Creepy organ music drifts through the store as Mrs. Vanderford slips behind the counter.
Cobwebs hang from the ceiling above me, adorned with black plastic spiders.
Adi leads us deeper into the store and we split up, each of us going to opposite sides of the same rack.
We start in the middle where all the big costumes are. There will be puffy corpse bride dresses along here, I’m sure.
Mae walks past, stopping beside me. “Hi, Penny.”
“Hey. What’re you here for?”
“We’re all going as blood-soaked cheerleaders this year.” She rolls her eyes. “Not my idea but it’ll be fun.”
“Nice. Hey, did you need my environmental science notes?”
“Please! Can I grab them at school Monday?”
“Sure.”
She gives me another wave as she heads to her group; one girl is holding up a blue cheerleader costume and the other red.
There’s about to be an argument.
I scrunch my nose and call over to Adi on the other side of the rack. “You smell something weird?”
“Probably that,” she replies, pointing to Mrs. Vanderford, who’s scowling and dumping a takeout box into the trash.
Karter’s dinner probably.
“Babe, here’s a good one. Mix of black and white,” she says, holding it up, but I still can’t see a lot of it. We’re right in the middle of the aisle that stretches almost the length of the store.
I part the costumes in front of me because it’ll be quicker than going around.
As I step forward, my foot kicks something solid.
“Ah. Hold on,” I mutter to Adi, and look down.
The first thing that I see is an arm and my brain tries hard to convince me it’s a mannequin.
But it’s not. I can tell from the red patch of blood seeping through his white shirt.
Screaming, I leap back and slap my hand over my mouth.
“Penny, what the
hell!” Adi’s voice sounds like she’s suddenly miles away.
I back up, almost tripping over myself until I hit the wall and slide to the floor. My eyes fix on the body in front of me. I can’t even blink.
Mrs. Vanderford and another employee run toward me, and other shoppers crane their necks to see what the dramatic girl is screaming about.
I gag against my fist as I spot the body’s dead eyes staring up at nothing. I recognize him—Noah. Another classmate of ours.
Adi screams and grabs hold of me, pulling my arm up as she tries to get me to stand. “Oh my god! What the…Is he dead?”
I vaguely hear her words over the ringing in my ears.
Yeah, he’s really dead. There’s blood all over his chest and now I can see that there are a couple darker patches. And the smell. That’s what it was, not Karter’s takeout.
I think he was stabbed.
“Stop looking, Penny!” Adi scolds, yanking me to my feet. I stand, wobbly, my legs almost unable to support my weight.
“Everyone outside,” Mrs. Vanderford says, her voice robotic after the shock. “Come on, outside now. Karen, call…call the police.”
Adi and I stumble through the store. I walk in a daze as we make it outside and into the crisp fall morning air. I gasp a mouthful of oxygen and my hands tremble in my pockets as I stare at the phoenix in the square, trying to make sense of what I just saw.
“It’s happening again,” Adi whispers, huddling close to me.
I blink a few times and listen to my pulse thumping in my ears. I’m only semi-aware of my surroundings, the small crowd that’s forming outside the store and the whispers of disbelief.
Mae and her friends exit with tear-stained cheeks, no doubt having seen the body on their way out.
“Penny!” Adi calls, shaking my arm. “Snap out of it!”
Shaking my head, I turn to her and mutter, “Wh-what?”
“It’s happening again. The murders.”
“No,” I breathe. Straightening my back, I say, “No. Jackson’s serving a life sentence in a federal prison in Pennsylvania. He’s locked up and two states away.”
“Yeah…but his kids aren’t.”
I yank my arm out of hers, wishing I could walk away from here, away from her and everyone else. I stare at Adi in disbelief. “Nash isn’t behind this.”
My lungs resist as I try to suck in enough oxygen. The feeling of being totally helpless is all-consuming.
Adi doesn’t respond
but she does move away from me and closer to Mae’s group, who are now outside with us.
I can’t believe that Nash would ever hurt anyone.
This can’t be him.
He’s nothing like his dad.
He wouldn’t do that.
I turn around to put as much distance between me and Adi’s confusing accusation as possible. That’s when I see him. Between the little bookstore and the pharmacy, facing Party Town and staring straight at me.
Nash.
2
My heart sinks as we make eye contact. From across the street, I see his familiar pained expression. Before he asked me out, we were friends. I’ve known him since kindergarten. There’s so much distance between us now, and I’m not talking about physically.
What is he doing here? He can’t be here.
With a shake of his head, which tousles his mop of dark brown hair, he slowly turns around and retreats into the shadows. I curl my hands into fists and wish I could run after him.
If it had been anyone else who’d seen him, he would already be in the back of a cop car.
Two of which screech to a stop outside the store, making me jump. Blue lights bounce off the store window, making the ghosts on the glass glow.
This time I don’t hesitate to press send, because I have something to say that’s nothing to do with how much I miss him or how sorry I am for staying away. Sliding my cell out of my pocket, I send Nash a text before I can talk myself out of it.
Penny:
He must be worrying. Last month a window was smashed at the grocery store and Nash was blamed. Despite the total lack of evidence and the fact that Karter had been seen in the area.
That has to be playing on Nash’s mind.
He’ll be scared, and he only has his sister on his side. The two of them against the whole town. Those aren’t great odds.
“Penny, the cops want to speak with us,” Adi says, cutting through my thoughts and bringing me straight back to the dead body in Party Town.
“Yeah,” I reply, taking one last look at the empty spot where Nash stood.
Adi and I both speak separately with cops outside the store. I don’t have much to tell them other than I accidentally kicked Noah’s dead body when I discovered him, ...
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