I gripped the poker tighter, ready to swing. My body rocked forward, ears pricked and desperate to catch the serial killer’s arrival.
More footsteps. I held my breath. The element of surprise was all I had on my side now. When the stranger was right upon me, I took a deep breath in. I jumped out and bellowed like I was facing off a mountain lion, the poker straight out in front of me.
“ROAR!” I yelled.
I wasn’t sure actually saying the word roar counted, but it got the job done. My assailant jumped a foot in the air away from me.
“Ah!” Devlin screamed.
I screamed.
We both screamed … but there was no ice cream. We took each other in. He squinted at me with one eye closed, and his T-shirt was on inside out and backwards like he’d gotten dressed in the dark. He wasn’t wearing pants. Boxer shorts, yes, but that was it. He was practically Porky-pigging it.
The lights were on. I wasn’t hiding. We made eye contact. Hehadto know it was me.
But surprising us both, a full second later, he screamed again.
It was not a manly shout. It was a high-pitched scream that some might say resembled that of a little girl. It’s me. I am some. I would say that.
I dropped the poker out of pure shock at his terror. As my heart slowed down, a smile grew. Laughter bubbled up from deep in my chest.
Devlin clutched a hand to his chest, his eyes wide. Backing into the wall behind him, he bumped into a short ornamental table, jostling a potted plant and knocking a small figurine over. Startled, Devlin yelped in fright and jerked away.
At this point, my arms were wrapped tight around my middle. The laughter came so hard, I was silent.
“Kim?” His voice was ragged and sleepy. “What’s going on?” After what felt like years of blinking at me while I laughed my face off, he finally seemed to fully register it was me. I couldn’t handle it. He was so dopey. Not at all the broody Devil of the Symphony now.
I shook with silent laughter. I just couldn’t stop hearing his girly little scream on a loop in my head.
“Are you—are you laughing at me?” he asked.
“Your scream—” I gasped out.
“You scared me.” He scratched his head, drowsy with sleep.
“Yeah, but then you screamed again.” My voice went up as I spoke. “Even after you saw it was me,” I gasped out, still fighting the giggles.
“I was confused—” he said.
“Like a Disney Princess.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “That’s sexist.”
I sobered long enough to say, “You’re right.” I nodded seriously. Then on a tight, controlled breath I added, “Disney princesses are made of tougher stuff these days.”
I breathed deep. No more laughing.
“Okay. Okay. I was sound asleep. I’m so glad you find this hilarious.” His voice was fake-stern but his eyes softened with amusement.
“And again when—when you hit the table. Don’t forget about that. You yelped!”
His voice took on a wry, self-deprecating tone. “Well. You can never trust these tables. They jump out of nowhere.”
That was it. I was lost to another fit. My back slid down the wall until I rested my head on my knees. The post-terror adrenaline and Devlin’s unexpected reaction had made me a little loopy. Every time I thought I had my laughter under control, I’d picture his oh-so-manly jump and the cycle just started again. My cheeks hurt from so much smiling.
Devlin chuckled a little as he shook his head. He slid down the opposite wall until we were facing each other in the hall. One lone light shone above us.
“I’m not used to company,” he said.
