Page 21 of Haunt the Mall
The red car slunk past us. Crisis averted.
I sighed. “We never really got to carve pumpkins as kids. I like the looks of them. That’s all,” I said.
Tori covered her yawn. “I understand. Pretty lights. And they have a witch with a cauldron too.”
“Must be one of Jen’s friends,” I joked.
“Kat,” she chided.
“Let’s get you home.”
As I pulled into my parents’ driveway, blinding headlights swung onto our street. I cursed and looked in the rearview mirror.
“What is it?” Tori turned around.
I couldn’t tell if it was same car from earlier. Had some psycho stalked us home?
I shifted gears just as the car pulled up behind us. We were sandwiched in.
My pulse skyrocketed. “What the fuck are they doing?” I squinted but couldn’t see past the headlights. If they didn’t turn around in two seconds…
I reached for the window-smash mallet Mom had gotten me off the shopping channel in case my car ever randomly fell into a river. My fingers curled around the handle, my grip straining my veins. If I had to smash some guy’s skull, I would. But first, I’d blare the horn. Mom’s wrath was enough to scare off most strangers.
Tori frowned. “Kat, I think it’s—”
"Whatever." A woman carrying an opened fast food bag got out the passenger’s side and slammed the door closed. As I leaned over to cover my sister, I realized the person stomping past the passenger’s side was wearing one of Tori’s oversized jackets. It was a devil we both knew.
Our older sister, Jennifer, glared at us, or more specifically, the mallet. “Seriously?”
I shrugged and waved it around. “Figured I should get some use out of it. Did you steal that from Tori’s closet? I thought you only wore mid-brands.” Whatever that meant.
Jennifer rolled her eyes and slurped her extra-large drink. “I’m going inside.”
Tori unbuckled. “I better go too. Good luck with your guy.” She gave me a quick hug, then darted out after our sister before she could lock the door on her.
The mysterious car pulled out and away, though I didn’t get a good look at the guy inside.
Unfortunately, my man was still a stranger in some ways, too. I had no idea what his name was or which information in my phone would be his. After getting home, I joined Jinx in bed and rummaged through my contacts.
I started with 'M for 'Movie Theater Guy' but didn’t find any cheeky entries like that.
Was he a ‘Mike?’ Somehow, I’d collected five of them. I didn’t put last names for half of these people. Were they from class? Work? I needed a hint.
I slouched into my pillows and groaned. Why couldn’t I have kept it in my pants long enough to check Spider-Man’s badge? Chances were, he wasn’t a Mike. It was too casual. He had to be ‘Michael’ at least. But not like the fictional serial killer Michael Myers. What if my movie guy put in a fictional character name as a horror trivia test?
I scrolled through my contacts. Who were all these people? Was I supposed to ask, “Hey, are you the hot manager from the movie theater?” Or send them my spider pics and ask if they wanted photo credit?
I looked up a few of the numbers and tracked down names on social media, but it was late, I was tired, and apparently had met too many people in my life to figure out how to contact my latest obsession.
I sighed and flopped on the bed, much to Jinx’s chagrin. Was it too much to ask for this part to be easy? That guy liked me. I liked him. We had each other’s numbers and yet I still didn’t know when we could hang out again.
I scratched Jinx’s cheeks. “Do you think he’ll text me?”
He blinked.
“You’re right. He’s probably waiting for me to reach out first.” I threw my arm over my face.
Hot Contra had costumes in the morning, but this mystery was going to torture me. I had to keep looking. I scoured career profiles and the theater’s social media. It had to tell me something. Eventually, I passed out on my side.