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I stand up, brushing the crumbs and dog drool off on my pants. “A bit of both.” I wink at Paige, and she blushes.
A shout of laughter sounds from the backyard. Paige glances over her shoulder, then back at me, some of her enthusiasm fading. “I guess we should go back there. Trick-or-treaters have lessened from a flood to a trickle. No more excuses to hide out as the candy distributer.”
Her reluctance confuses me.
Does she not want to be at this party?
Or maybe she doesn’t want to be seen withmeat this party.
I try to convince myself that the second option is stupid. If she didn’t want to be seen with me, she didn’t have to invite me.
After leaving the candy bowl out on the front stoop for the stragglers and scavengers, Paige returns to my side and loops her arm through mine.
“So, game plan. Food is on the far side of the yard. A lot of bobbing and weaving will be necessary, but I still think we can make it there with little pointless small talk. Still, I figure even if we get held up a time or two, this food is worth the risk. I’m talking high quality snacks.” She turns to face me just as we reach the glass doors that let out on the back patio. “My mom does not mess around on Halloween. I expect to roll you out of here, Dash.” Her hand pats my flat stomach, and at the contact I feel a stirring in two areas.
One results in a growl that has Paige grinning, the second is a thickening that has me shoving my hand in my pocket to subtly adjust myself.
“Now, the biggest hold up will be if we encounter my parents. I’ll introduce you at some point, but they’re better dealt with when you have a full stomach. Hopefully Mom is distracted with karaoke.”
Paige misses my expression of horror upon finding out this night might require a sing-along, and instead carefully opens the back door. Clearly she’s taking the sneak attack tactic.
When we step outside, noise surrounds us. Apparently, the Herberts throw a big bash. At least I don’t have to worry about sticking out awkwardly. Everyone here is dressed up, some costumes subtle, some outrageous, but all meant in a happy spirit of Halloween.
“This way.” Paige tugs my arm and we head toward a break in the crowd.
The mass of people is surprisingly thick, and she lets go of my arm only to slide her hand into mine, tugging me along behind her. The yard that I’ve gotten familiar with over the past few weeks suddenly morphs into new terrain. A distance I was able to sprint across with Pumpkin in a matter of seconds, has now become a distance requiring a full-scale expedition. In fact, I’ve lost track of the dog in the melee.
“Paige!”
She turns towards me when I call her name, eyebrows raised in question.
“I think we lost Pumpkin.”
She glances around, then shrugs. “Don’t worry. She’s around here somewhere. And I put a sign up on the gate warning people not to let her out of the yard.”
“Is she okay with all these people?” A sense of protection swells in my chest, and I worry about how this group of upper-crust people will handle being around a pit bull.
Paige steps closer, sliding her hand around to my lower back in what seems to be an unconscious gesture. “I asked my parents to let everyone know she’d be here, and they all met her when they arrived. She’s been really good. Like I said, you’re the only one she jumped on. Everyone else she sniffs then ignores. She’s a good dog. Your training is working well.”
I have trouble focusing on Paige’s reassurances with her standing so close to me, holding on to me like we’re close friends, or something more. I nod, she smiles, and we go back to navigating to the food.
When we locate the long table of offerings, saliva floods my mouth.
Paige’s mom may be my new favorite person.
Because of a few new parts I had to buy to get my car up and running again, I’ve been living off Ramen this week, which means my stomach has been cursing me in an endless stream of creative profanity.
But tonight, I feast.
“You fill a plate, and I’ll grab us drinks. Do you want the punch? There’s no booze in it unless you want to add it yourself.”
“Virgin punch works for me.”
Paige practically skips away, her black skirt swishing around her thighs with each step she takes. For a moment I stand still, watching her leave and simply enjoying the view.
Then my stomach gives and audible demand that I can’t ignore any longer.
“Yeah, yeah. Food time,” I mutter to myself, giving up watching Paige, knowing I shouldn’t let myself do it in the first place.
