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“He'll just say no. You know this time of the year is always hard on him.”
“Right,” Logan winces, realizing he just put his foot in his mouth.
A drunk driver hit Carter’s parents on devil's night seven years ago. From what I can remember—since Carter doesn’t talk about it a lot—his folks were coming home from a date night and some idiot who couldn’t hold his liquor rammed into them and killed both his mom and dad on the spot. Carter hates anything and everything that has to do with Halloween, so no way in hell would he be up for getting some free candy with me. Logan is a total asshat for even suggesting it.
“Since he won’t be up for it, that means you’ll just have to go with me,” I insist.
“Not happening. And besides, you shouldn’t be eating junk like candy anyway. You got braces, remember?” He grins mockingly, showcasing his perfect god given pearly whites.
“Fuck the braces. They're coming off in a few months anyway. A little sugar won’t hurt.”
“Your mom is going to be pissed if you don’t have a golden smile like hers,” he warns, before turning his attention back to his game.
I roll my eyes because I hardly ever see the woman long enough for her to even remember I have braces, let alone give me grief about their care. I bet she wouldn’t notice if I ate a whole candy shop worth of sugar until the dentist’s bill arrived. But that’s beside the point. I have more pressing matters to worry about, like convincing Logan to get the stick removed from his butt long enough for him to go out trick or treating with me tonight.
“If it’s because you don’t have an outfit, we can go to the mall and I’ll buy you one,” I tell him, just in case he’s turning me down because he can’t afford to buy a costume.
“I don’t need your charity, Quaid,” he replies with a snarl to his lips.
“It’s not charity, you dick! It’s me wanting to spend Halloween trick or treating with my best friend. Is there anything I can say or do to change your mind?”
“Nope.”
“Really? That’s your final answer?”
“Yup.” He pops the ‘p’ in the end again.
Angry as all hell that he managed to ruin what will probably be my last chance at enjoying Halloween like a normal kid, I jam him on his toe with the heel of my Air Jordan’s, forcing him to drop his remote. I pick it up and in ten seconds flat, beat the almighty zombie boss on the screen that he’s spent the last five months trying to conquer.
“You are such an asshole!” he yells at me, his big blue eyes bugging out of his skull.
“Takes one to know one!” I bark back and waltz out of his room, slamming the door on my way out. He’s lucky all I did was ruin his game. I’m so mad I could have slugged him.
When I get outside, my gaze immediately goes to the navy blue door across the street, and my anger fades away instantly.
Valentina.
Would she come with me trick or treating or would she say that it’s childish like Logan did? Would her dad even let her come with me? I guess there’s only one way to find out. I run to her house and start pounding on the door, anxious to see if I can convince Val on the joys of Halloween. Mr. E opens the door, looking a bit off his game, wiping the sleep off his eyes.
“Sorry, Mr. E. Did I wake you?” I look at my watch and see it’s eleven in the morning, not an hour you’d expect someone to still be asleep.
“No, no. You didn’t wake me. I was just concentrating on work, that’s all.” He yawns.
“Must be riveting stuff,” I tease, gaining a smirk from Val’s old man.
“What do you want, Quaid? Dinner isn’t for a few more hours. Or are you dropping over for lunch? I thought you were hanging out at Logan's today,” he says confused, looking over my shoulder to Logan’s place.
“No, I’m all good,” I hush, looking down at my feet so he doesn’t see the flush of crimson on my cheeks.
Since the day Val and her dad moved to our street, I’ve basically had all my meals here. My parents haven’t even noticed that there haven’t been any delivery charges on their credit card, or if they did, they sure as hell haven’t said anything to me. But then again, the only communication we have with one another are a few single sentence texts every couple of days. If I had any shame in me whatsoever, I wouldn't come over so often, but I like the family atmosphere of this house. Most of all, I love how both Val and Mr. E make me feel like I’m part of the family. For a kid like me, whose own parents don’t give a fuck, having someone that does is addicting.
“You sure, kid? I can make a quick grilled cheese if you want it?”
“No. That’s not why I dropped by.”
“Oh? Then why did you?” he says leaning against the door, a curious sparkle to his golden eyes. They look just like Val’s, and every time I look at them, a sense of peace washes over me.
“I wanted to ask you a question, Mr. E. Has Val ever gone trick or treating?”
