“¡Ay, Dios mio, qué vergüenza!Are you out of your mind, Ava? I busted my ass after your deadbeat father left us for you to have a hot meal on the table and be able to attend college, and this is how you repay me? By leaving law school, moving across the country, and working at a barcomo una puta?” she screeches and ends the call abruptly.
Grinding my teeth, I inhale a calming breath despite my fingers tightening on my phone. I barely stop myself from hurling it at the TV as I let out a frustrated scream. After a few moments, my heart rate goes back to normal, and I shake my head in disappointment. Until now, I felt guilty for not reaching out to my mother for two months, but honestly, I was expecting this sort of reaction from her, especially after I started working at the Shabby Shotglass.
She didn’t even ask how I’m feeling. I mean, I did have a heart transplant four months ago. I get up, stride to the kitchen, and pull out all the ingredients I need to bake a chocolate cake. I was planning on being a couch potato until Tony came over so we could get ready together for the Halloween party. But my mother’s phone call left me with a bitter taste in my mouth and a pang in my chest that just won’t go away, so I’ll bake something in an attempt to make myself feel better. I hope it works.
“Oh my God, you made this?” Tony says a few hours later, his voice traveling through the crack in the bathroom door.
“Do you like it?” I ask as I pull on the purple jumpsuit he brought over for me, trying to stick it to the tape on my boobs as best as I can. I definitely cannot wear a bra under it. Hopefully, the tape will be strong enough, and I won’t flash anyone at the party.
“Do I like it? It’s like an orgasm but in my mouth. Girl, you’ve got mad talent. It’s the best cake I’ve eaten in my entire life. If my mamma would hear me right now, she would whoop my ass, but damn, I dare say it’s better than sex.” He pauses, seemingly considering what he just said. “Okay, maybe not better, but a close second.”
“Well, I’m happy you love it so much,” I chuckle out as I get out of the bathroom. “You can have as much as you want, and I’ll bake you another whenever; just let me know,” I say. My gaze flits to Tony, who’s sitting on my couch. He looks amazing in his full Freddy Mercury costume while stuffing his face with the chocolate cake I served him a few minutes ago.
He makes a circle with his finger in the air, urging me to turn around as he chews and then swallows. I do a pirouette and pose like a model on a runway with a fierce stare. “So, what do you think?”
“Shit, you look hot, buttercup. If only I were straight,” he jests with mock aggravation.
We both laugh. “Can you help me with my wig? I never wore one before.”
“Oh, sweet innocent child, of course, I’ll help you.” He takes the last spoonful of cake from the plate, brings it into the kitchen, and places it in the sink. Then, Tony fusses over me in the bathroom for a good while, making sure my wig will stay in place. He even takes the time to trim the bangs so they look exactly like Selena’s.
The sun raysfiltering through the windshield reflect in the golden sequins of Tony’s pants, creating a disco ball effect in my car’s interior. We take full advantage of our makeshift nightclub and sing off-key at the top of our lungs to “I Want to Break Free” by Queen. Tony connected his phone to the speakers and has been playing Queen since we left my apartment.
“To properly get into character,”he said earlier, winking at me.
Children in costumes accompanied by their parents crowd the streets in the residential area of Ashville on their way to trick-or-treating. Most of the mansions in this neighborhood are decorated, and it brings the Halloween spirit to life. I almost do a double take at the massive skeleton that looks like it’s escaping one of the houses, the bony hand splayed on the lawn bigger than my car. As I take in the macabre ornaments, memories of Chloe and me going trick-or-treating together when we were kids flash through my mind. We’ve been best friends since kindergarten. I feel her absence like a missing limb. I hope I’ll get to see her soon.
By the time we manage to find a free parking spot, the sun is already disappearing in the horizon, the sky darkening with every second that passes, now a fiery copper with violet streaks as it gives way to dusk.
The icy air prickles my cheeks as we make our way on the forest trail. The worst part about this is that we unfortunately have to walk about half an hour until we reach Shadow Lake. The part of me that is stuck in the past worries about the exertion, about passing out, and I have to remind myself that I am not half deadanymore. Unlike I would have been four months ago, I’m not out of breath at all, and being here in the forest, surrounded by the smell of damp earth and pine trees, fills me with energy, a sense of all-encompassing belonging. The blanket of rusty leaves that covers the forest floor crunches with our every step, and Tony keeps me entertained with awkward stories from when he was a teenager and still in the closet.
As we reach the clearing near Shadow Lake, the party is already in full swing. Music blasts from two ginormous speakers, and more than a hundred people in costumes surround the massive bonfire in groups, holding red Solo cups. Everyone is talking and laughing, and some are even dancing to the music.
The full moon casts a silvery glow over the thick canopy of trees and on the rippling water, making the lake appear translucent, like a burnished steel mirror. Restlessness overtakes me as I feel static energy skitter over my entire body. I clench and unclench my fingers, trying to shake off the weird feeling.
“C’mon, buttercup. I spotted some of my friends,” Tony squeaks as he grabs my hand and pulls me toward the bonfire to a group of people.
He hugs each of them, and then he comes back to my side. “Everyone, this is Ava. Ava, everyone.” He pauses and gives me a devilish wink. “Ava here is single and ready to mingle,” he proclaims to the whole group of ten people.
They all droll out some sort of “Hey” in my direction, and I wave awkwardly, heat spreading from my chest all the way to my ears for being put in the spotlight like that. Tony steps away and engages in a conversation with one of the guys in the group.
“Oh, I love your costume,” the redhead girl wearing iridescent fairy wings and a silky emerald billowing dress says to me from my right. She looks like I would imagine a real sylph would. The light cast by the bonfire gives a warm glow to the side of her face,making the rhinestones above her eyebrows twinkle.
“Credit goes to Tony. It’s his jumpsuit; I only bought the wig. And I love your costume, too. The wings are incredible.”
“Thanks, I made them myself. I’m Olivia, by the way.” I shake her hand when she thrusts it in my direction. She proceeds to tell me everyone’s name in their group, but I’m terrible at remembering names. As soon as she finishes, I have already forgotten them.
Tony saunters toward me, accompanied by a guy wearing a Joker costume. “Ava, this is Ethan.”
Ethan smiles as his gaze flits to me, tilting his chin since he already said hello earlier. He’s wearing a Joker costume, complete with the face paint. He has a boyish charm, his wavy blond hair curling slightly at his ears, and he is a bit taller than Tony. Not as tall as Logan, though. I clench my jaw and push the errant thought away.
Ocean-blue eyes rake my body appreciatively. “Do you want to get something to drink?” Ethan asks.
“Sure,” I reply and look at Tony. “Are you coming too?”
“No, you lovebirds go without me. But you can bring me some beer.”
Ethan falls into step with me as we start walking toward the keg that’s placed on the ground near a log serving as a makeshift table a few feet away, close to the tree line. “So, how do you know Tony?”
