Page 10

I’m wearing a black pleated skirt, thigh-high stockings, boots and an oversized burnt-orange sweater hanging off one shoulder.

Mariah called it slutty pumpkin spice and I accepted the compliment.

My dark hair falls loose down my back, and I’ve got tiny black gems around my eyes because if I’m going to be chased through corn, I might as well look fucking good doing it.

Mariah comes around the hood dressed like a witch who discovered cleavage.

Ali is a vampire. Mostly because she already owned the dress.

“Picture,” Mariah announces.

“We just got here.” Ali whines.

“Exactly.” I say as Mariah hands her phone to a passing couple. Three pictures become eleven then twenty then a video. By the time we’re satisfied, the couple probably regrets being kind.

We fall in with the crowd heading toward the entrance, and the closer we get, the better everything smells. Woodsmoke hangs in the cool air, mingling with cinnamon and sweet apples, while the heavier scent of barbecue and something fried drifts from the food stands ahead.

I inhale dramatically. “If heaven doesn’t smell like this, send me back.”

“You don’t believe in heaven.” Mariah says.

“I believe in funnel cake.”

“Fair.” She laughs.

At the gate, an employee scans our IDs and fastens a black wristband around us.

“Reaping package?” She asks.

Mariah holds up our tickets. “Yep.”

“Perfect. Masks are included. Pick them up inside the main barn anytime before eleven thirty. Hunt registration opens at ten.” She hands each of us a small wooden token. A stalk of corn is burned into one side and on the other…ENJOY THE HARVEST.

“What’s this for?” I ask.

“Welcome drink.”

“Oh.”

“Cider barn is straight ahead. You can do hard or regular.”

Mariah grabs my arm. “Hard.”

The employee laughs. “Have fun.”

We step through the gate and Ward Farm swallows us whole. For the next hour, I’m twelve years old again. Except with alcohol.

Mariah raises her cup of hard cider. “To not getting murdered.”

Ali raises her. “To making better friends.”

I lift mine “To masked men.”

Mariah grins. “I knew there was a reason I loved you.”

We clink the plastic cups then throw them back. The cider is fucking incredible. It’s cold, crisp cinnamon without tasting like someone dumped a candle into it. I drink half before we reach the first row of vendors.

We buy stupid shit. A tiny crocheted ghost. A candle called Grave Dirt. A bag of caramel corn that Mariah immediately steals. Ali buys vampire earrings despite already being dressed as one. We take pictures with the giant skeleton. Ride the ferris wheel. Go through a haunted barn, where a teenager with a chainsaw makes Ali scream so loudly, I nearly piss myself laughing.