Page 12 of Haunt the Mall
Actually, it was kind of ironic that I ended up munching on the popcorn as a car snack, just like the manager had advised. I smiled and checked my rearview mirror, half expecting him to show up—or at least play a spider prank.
I’d see him again. After all, he’d invited me back. I only had to pick a showtime and hope it coincided with his schedule. The theater had a horror lineup for the next month and a half. Surely, there was something—and someone—worth the trip.
I licked my lips of salty goodness.
Definitely worth the trip.
7
Screeching Silverware
The trouble was, I had no idea when my mystery man worked. Or what movie to see next. On my day off, my mind wriggled with the effort to craft opportunities to see him again while I gently shooed Jinx off my fresh-out-of-the-dryer laundry. I couldn’t exactly call and ask for the hot manager. Was I supposed to go to the movies on my own again? That’d give maximum flirting opportunities. But it also might make me look desperate if I was trying to catch his eye, hanging around the theater all day, and isolating myself except for coworkers.
Ugh, why did courtship have to be so complicated?
I surrendered a towel to my cat, then texted my sister.
< Me: Hey, what are you up to today? >
< Tori: Studying. Forever :’( >
No time to listen to me ramble on about a hot guy, then.
< Tori: What are you up to? Do you want to come by for dinner? >
Normally, snuggling with my cat would’ve been an ideal way to relax. But there was an itch under my skin to do something reckless. If I didn’t take care of it, I’d end up waiting in the mall parking lot for my theater guy like a psycho in one of my favorite movies.
Jinx stared at me; his golden-green eyes narrowed with censure.
Okay, maybe the theater guy would enjoy a little weirdness. But I hadn’t seen Tori, my parents, or my other sister, Jen, for a few weeks. Maybe family dinner could be my reckless thing.
< Me: Yeah, if the ‘rents are cool with it, I’d love to come to dinner. >
Mom called me a few minutes later. “I can make chicken and spinach pasta,” she enthused. “Iron and protein.”
“Oh, yay.” So much better than a stranger’s spit. Or salty, suck-worthy popcorn. Ugh. Why did I always picture the most bizarre things? I perched my phone between my cheek and shoulder to finish putting stuff away as Mom confirmed the rest of the details. By the time I hung up, I’d cleared the bed. Jinx eyed me with wariness that implied I made the wrong choice with my evening plans. It wouldn’t be that bad spending one night with my family. I kissed Jinx’s head, scratched his back, then drove to my parents’ house.
Stubborn yellow leaves clung to the elm tree in the front yard. I pushed the empty tire swing, half hoping the foliage would sprinkle down on me. The familiar creak of the rope joined the rustle of decaying leaves. Stiff hairs on the tire pricked my fingertips and sent a tingle down my spine. They were kind of like a spider’s touch, in a way.
Dad opened the front door and stepped onto the landing in his brown loafers. “We ought to get rid of that.”
I grabbed the rope. “Why?”
“It’s a safety hazard. Can’t bear weight," he said.
Scoffing, I slipped one leg through the tire. This was a childhood staple. Even if I’d gotten bigger since then, they couldn't get rid of it.
“Kat, don’t you dare. You’ll break your neck,” Mom piped up from the cheap video doorbell she got off the shopping channel.
I hugged the tire. “Why don’t you come outside and make me?”
“Dinner’s ready. And if you put one more leg in that death trap, I’ll be the one to break your neck,” she said.
I rolled my eyes. The worst she’d ever done was swat at our butts with newspapers and give exasperated lectures.
Dad stuck his hands in his beige trouser pockets. “Would you like to come in?”
“Yeah, I guess.” It’d make eating dinner a lot easier. I twisted away so I didn’t flash him as I got my legs back on the ground. “Don’t cut this down,” I warned, pointing at his nose.