Sorry, Ford.
The name brings another swell of regret and anticipation.Ever since my kiss with Ford, he’s had a habit of consuming my thoughts to a point that’s borderline unhealthy, but I can’t help it.He’s just so…so different from what I expected.
I push open the heavy door out of sheer desperation for a solid distraction.I doubt it’ll help.
The black lights flicker off again, both outside and in the haunted house’s entryway.They’re all on the same timer.Clever, yes.Convenient?Not so much.It’s so dark in here, I can barely see anything.I could wait another thirty seconds for the black lights to turn back on so I can see a little better, but every second I’m not searching is a second lost, and it’s not like I’ll survive in this contest forever.It’s only a matter of time before I’m marked and cut from the game.
Nope.I don’t have time to wait, even if it would make my search easier.Moving forward, I drag my fingertips along the walls.They’re empty.Nothing to search.Nothing to inspect.Nothing to camouflage the halo in question.
Maybe the haunted house was a bad idea.
When a girl squeals outside, “Nathan!No!”I nearly jump out of my skin.Giggles erupt, followed by a loud thump from the porch as something slams against the front door while simultaneously barring the girl and Nathan from joining me in the house.
Quickening my pace, I take the set of stairs to the second floor.The lights flicker back on, and I squint, letting my eyes adjust to the change.Multiple doors line either side of a long hallway, and even with the black lights, it’s still eerily dark, thanks to the lack of windows.The question is, which door do I enter?And will anyone be waiting for me on the opposite side when I do?
My pulse quickens at the thought.Seriously, whoever came up with this idea is an evil genius who should really be studied.Oh, wait.I already know the culprit.
Ford, you’re a psycho.
I rush toward one of the closest doors, but stop short.The handle is coated in hot pink paint.It’s as if someone grabbed it.Heck, I’m pretty sure I can see individual fingers hidden in the paint.Is whoever this handprint belongs to still inside?Are they waiting for me?Another dose of adrenaline shoots through my veins as the lights flicker off again.I move toward the closest unmarked door.Hands shaking, I grip the handle and slowly twist.It’s unlocked.Instead of opening the door fully, I press my ear to it and wait.Not a sound.Not a squeak or a laugh or a grunt.Only silence is on the other side.To be fair, the door Lexie and I walked through before we were ambushed by Hawke was silent, too, but considering my options, I don’t know what else to do.
With a deep breath, I slowly push open the door, grateful the hinges have seen WD-40 within the last decade, and peek inside.A cracked window is the focal point on the opposite wall.Pillows in all shapes and sizes litter the ground, like the room in the last building.There’s also a small folding table scattered with Red Solo cups on my left.Each is filled with different shades of neon paint.No boogie man, though.Not this time around.That’s something, isn’t it?Stepping further inside, I close the door behind me and press my back to it as my heart continues galloping.Okay.Okay, what now?If I were Ford, where would I hide the halo?Obviously, plain sight isn’t an option.That would be ludicrous.So, where could it be?Not somewhere high.That’s too easy.Most wouldn’t be able to reach it, and Ford wouldn’t give the upper hand to the tall girls.He would make sure it’s accessible to everyone.Hmm.I bend down and pick up one of the pillows scattered on the floor.Squishing it in my hands, I search for something hard, like a tiara or, you know, a halo.It’s nothing but feathers.Shoot.
It was probably in the room I ditched with Lexie.Not that I can go back and check.Wouldn’t it be my luck?My lips scrunch to one side.I pick up another pillow and squeeze it.Nope.With a quick toss, I throw it over my shoulder and bend to pick up another one when the floor squeaks.My neck snaps toward the sound, and my heart jumps in my throat.
“Who’s there?”I whisper, but it’s too dark.I can barely see anything.I blink quickly, praying for my eyes to adjust.
There.In the shadows.Across the room.
There’s a man dressed in black from head to toe.The dark face paint makes his eyes look like nothing but hollow pits of coal.Has he been there the whole time?
I stumble back, nearly tripping over one of the discarded pillows, but I catch my balance at the last instant, my fingers digging into the chipped plaster on the wall.
“Careful, June Bug,” the man murmurs.
My body turns to stone.I recognize the voice as much as I do the nickname.Something else swells inside of me, replacing my fear with a rush I’d rather not analyze.“Ford?”I whisper.
The black lights flicker on, highlighting Ford’s pearly white teeth.Maybe it’s the creepy face paint.Maybe it’s the black lights.But I can’t tell if it’s a sneer or a genuine smile.“What are you doing here?”he asks.He steps out of the shadows and over the scattered pillows, moving closer to me with a nonchalance that only feeds my adrenaline.
“Am I not allowed to be here?”I whisper.
He reaches me, and his gaze drops to my mouth.“Where’s your boyfriend?”
My boyfriend?He wants to talk about Bryan?
What a loaded question.One I could answer in a hundred different ways, though none feel right.Not when I don’t know where we stand.
I bite my bottom lip and search for the safest option.The one that doesn’t include assumptions or vulnerabilities or…any substance at all, really.“As Lexie puts it, Fireman Bryan is no more,” I tell him.
The lights go out once more, blanketing us in darkness and making my heart leap all over again.
“Did she kill him?”Ford asks.
My mouth lifts in spite of myself.Wouldn’t that be a twist?“Not exactly,” I answer.
“What happened?”
The heat of his body seeps into mine.It only fuzzes my thoughts more.Why is he standing so close?Why is he here at all?There are a hundred girls he could corner tonight.A hundred girls he could kiss.So why is he here?With me?When he could be anywhere else?
