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Chapter 20
Creepy Vampires to the Left,
Stalkers to the Right
“Velcome!” A pimply-faced teenager in a satin Dracula cape, plastic fangs, and a penciled-in widow’s peak leapt into the doorway of Scare-O-Rama, Tucson’s best-stocked Hal oween store. “Can I help you? You girls look good enough to bite!” When he laughed, he sounded like the Count from Sesame Street.
“Ew, no!” Laurel said, brushing past him. Dracula covered half his face with his cape, shunned vampire-style, and scooted away to his perch behind the counter. It was Thursday after school, and Emma and Laurel were on the hunt for their Homecoming costumes. Truthful y, al Emma had wanted to do for the rest of the night was lie in Sutton’s bed in a tight, safe bal and thank her lucky stars that the light fixture hadn’t been a couple of inches to the left, but she’d final y relented after Laurel’s constant badgering. The dance was tomorrow, after al —time was running out. And even if she didn’t have a date, she had to attend in style. But just venturing into the world felt dangerous, like Lili and Gabby could be anywhere or do anything.
Emma kept checking their private Twitter accounts, but they hadn’t posted anything new since Gabby’s tweet that afternoon. She needed more on them—something
concrete, unequivocal. But she’d scoured Sutton’s bedroom, house, iPhone, social networking sites, two lockers, and everywhere else she could think of. Laurel took Emma’s arm and guided her to the racks of costumes cramming nearly every inch of the store. Pitchforks, sparkly top hats, slasher masks, and spiders hung on the wal . Fun-house mirrors made Emma’s body look either lumpish or taffy-stretched. Predictably, “Monster Mash” blared over the stereo, and Dracula and his coworker—a tal girl stuffed into a leather bustier—bobbed along to the beat. Laurel strode up to a rack of southern bel e hoop skirts and touched the faux taffeta. “I’m thinking of something retro.” She tied a bonnet under her chin and posed to the right and left. “What do you think? Is it me?”
Despite her exhaustion, Emma smiled. “It’s definitely you.” They both col apsed into giggles. For once, Emma actual y felt close to Laurel, almost like she was a real sister. The only thing missing here was Sutton herself. What I wouldn’t give for Emma, Laurel, and me to be shopping together right now, trying on stupid witch hats and fake noses. Having a true blood sister would change so much. Emma and I would be instant family, a different kind than I’d ever experienced. There would be no jealousy that my parents loved her more than me. We would be bound together always; I would try my hardest for us to have the best relationship possible.
Emma and Laurel sifted through Madonna cone-boob corsets, French maid outfits, and a rack of pink tutus Emma would’ve begged Becky to buy for her when she was four years old. A few minutes into their search, Laurel pul ed out a leopard’s costume and shook her head as she examined it. “This isn’t right either. It needs to be perfect.”
“It’s just a dance,” Emma murmured. “What’s the big deal?”
There was a screech of metal as Laurel moved a cluster of hangers to the left. “Caleb real y likes Hal oween. And I want everything to be just right.” She bit her lip. Emma couldn’t help but smile. “Do you like him?”
Embarrassment flickered across Laurel’s face. “I know he tel s real y dorky jokes. And I know it’s not so great that he’s only on JV tennis. But he’s so nice. We have fun together.”
It took Emma a few moments to realize that Laurel was seeking her approval, apologizing for choosing a guy who might not be up to their clique’s standards. “If you guys have fun together, that’s what’s important,” she said, shooting Laurel a genuine smile. “I think he’s supercute.”
Laurel brightened. “Real y?”
Emma nodded. “Really.”
The corners of Laurel’s lips twitched into a relieved smile. I could tel how much Emma’s words meant to her. It was the kind of encouragement I’d clearly never given her when I was around.
The next rack of costumes contained bikini tops, angel wings, hot pants, and thigh-high boots. “So, does Caleb like you back?” Emma asked.
Laurel flicked a feather on the brim of a flapper headband. “According to Gabby and Lili, he’s interested.”
Emma tried to keep her face neutral. She didn’t want Laurel to see her flinch at the mention of the Twins’ names. Then Laurel let out a wary laugh. “Hopeful y they’re not lying to me as revenge for attempting to get them on-stage in thongs.”
At least they didn’t try to drop a giant light on your head.
“Do you think they’ve forgiven us for the prank?” Emma asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
Laurel held a blood-spattered wedding dress to her torso and nodded. “After the party kicked into gear, they said they thought the prank was real y funny. I can’t believe they knew we were up to something. I thought we covered our bases. Maybe we’ve underestimated them.”
That’s an understatement, I thought.
Emma ran her finger over a sequined bowler hat. “So were Gabby and Lili in the auditorium the whole time I was in the nurse’s office?” The shuffling noises in the hal zipped through her mind. Those bits of glass on the floor. The eerie sense someone had been there listening, watching.
“Yeah . . .” Laurel squinted at her. “Why?”
Emma kept her gaze glued on a stack of food-themed costumes: a phal ic orange carrot, a round donut with leechlike felt pink sprinkles, and a Hershey’s Kiss. “I thought I saw Gabby in the hal , that’s al .”
