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Right as we're about to pa.s.s the kitchen island, the sound of pots and pans clattering fills the room. It's just enough to pull our focus away from what's coming in order to look behind us. I turn back right as a hand reaches out to touch Kent's shoulder.
The blood drains from my face, even though this whole moment has been less than scary. I never considered that people here would actually touch me. Most places, it would be a law suit waiting to happen. Here, anything seems to go though.
Kent's laughing just in front of me, talking to whoever had just tried to scare him like they're old friends.
The couple behind us has given up on any sort of pretense and are just full on making out now.
Nothing about this is scary. And I'm almost disappointed.
I start to relax in earnest almost as soon as we start our way up the stairs through to the second level of the house. I don't understand what the people who tried to organize this place was going for, but so far everything has been far more cheesy than scary. Kent is constantly looking from side to side, inspecting every element of the house for something that might genuinely scare him but he comes away disappointed.
"Okay, I can take this. This really isn't so bad."
"I swear, last year it was so scary. And the effects were really well done. They put a lot of thought into it. This is... Well, this is not that."
I'm not sure how, but somewhere along the way we lose sight of the other duo in our group. It's possible they've decided to call it a day and gone back out the way we came, or if they've slipped away into a closet to continue what they started in the kitchen. Either way, that only leaves me and Kent.
"And then there were two," I whisper, trying to sound ominous.
The second last stair near the top of the landing creeks as I put my weight on it, sending a s.h.i.+ver running up my spine. So far, that's proved far scarier than anything I've seen so far. The arrows are supposed to lead us into an empty bedroom cloaked in fog. My eyes scan the walls, but there is literally nowhere in this room that anyone or anything can be lying in wait for us.
"Do we go in?" I ask, looking over at Kent. He looks behind us and then back in toward the room where the black light arrow on the floor clearly points us deeper into the bedroom.
"I guess so. Maybe we're supposed to be contemplating the horror of solitude."
"You're starting to sound like Mr. Sullen," I say. Together, we step inside the room taking each foot slowly and stopping in place before taking the next. Something is bound to happen. Or if this is an exercise in antic.i.p.ation, I want my money back.
Nothing downstairs managed to scare me, but I can't help but wonder if they were trying to lure us into a false sense of security. I should have just waited outside, then I wouldn't have to worry about any of this.
We make it all the way to the far wall of the room where the windows look down on the happy crowds below. Nothing happens.
"Why do I feel like those people down there are about to get a great view of the two of us being murdered?" I ask.
Kent doesn't say anything in response, still on the lookout for what might be coming for us next. But nothing happens. We stand there, barely breathing for as long as my nerves will allow. "Do we just go back out then? Could the person who was supposed to be in this room have wandered off?"
Kent shrugs but looks even less confident than I feel. We turned to head back towards the door, but once we take a step, something drops from the ceiling. I cover my mouth before I can let out a shriek, eyes going wide as I try to figure out what's happening. There's a huge part of me convinced that this is the end, not just of the house but of my entire life. But my reaction is nothing compared to Kent's. As soon as the swish from above comes at us, he jumps back a solid foot, his hand wrapping around my wrist as though to tugged me back with him, away from danger.
I make myself look up, and see a hundred plastic bats, tethered to the ceiling and hanging down only inches above my head. After a second they're all completely stationary.
That was it. That was the big moment. As one, Kent and I exhale, only a second before the two of us burst out laughing.
Chapter 12.
Even as we leave the house five minutes later, I can still feel the impression of Kent's fingers against my wrist. We spent the rest of our trip through, giggling at the cheesy scares that had been prepared for us, but always ready in case something managed to break through and have us running from the house. All in all, it was the least scary haunted house I'd ever been in, but I don't have much to go on. And I'm never going to forget Kent's mini freak out with the bats.
We see everyone else waiting for us nearby. Rosie waves us over and still seems to be laughing at whatever it was we missed. "Well, that was hilarious."
Grinning at her, I admit, "I'm not sure what I was expecting, but that wasn't it." I side-eye Kent, who gives me a pleading stare. At that, a laugh bubble out of me. "But this guy here is not quite as brave as I thought. I think he might've jumped from that second story window if he had the chance, just to get out."
"The empty room?" Jen asks. "Yeah, that was the scariest bit for me too. I was sure they were leading up to something really big and then the end result was so anticlimactic that all of my nerves just came tumbling out anyway."
Kent and Rosie start in on a play-by-play of each room of the house, even though there really isn't that much to reminisce about. But I've spotted someone I think I recognize standing at the edge of the square. Whoever it is, she's wearing a black costume that covers up most of her face and distorts the shape of her body slightly. But in the way she's standing and watching everyone around her, I think it has to be Rhiannon.
"Be right back," I say before disappearing into the crowd. I quickly cross the distance between me and my suspected target. I wasn't sure if Rhiannon was going to come with anyone, but seeing her standing by herself-if it is her-almost makes me regret that I suggested we all come. I'd hate to be the reason she has a miserable time tonight, and whoever this girl is, it doesn't seem like she's having fun.
But there's a chance it's not even her. The girl I'm watching has her hair tied up into a messy bun at the top of her head, and in the dark it looked close in color to ours, but I can't say much more than that. The way she's standing is so very Rhiannon, but I don't know if that's enough to go on. I'm not about to go up to someone who might be a stranger and accuse them of being related to me. Because that's one guaranteed way to get the town talking about me all over again.
I'm less than ten feet away now and trying not to stare too obviously as I wait for the girl to do something that would tip me off one way or the other. She's watching the crowd, and if it's Rhiannon, I wouldn't be surprised if she's looking for the rest of us, either so she can win our little game or so maybe she'd have someone to hang out with until it's time to go home.
Has she not met anybody in the two months we've been here yet? Was I supposed to invite her to come with me? I've been so busy worrying about how she's been acting at home, and I never noticed her at school, so I don't even have a guess. In math cla.s.s, she focuses on the lessons more often than not, but that's her to a tee. And after cla.s.s, she talks to me. But there's so much of her day I don't see.
The girl I'm watching pulls out her phone, and at once I know it's my sister. Not only is the phone the same one I see every day on Rhiannon's nightstand, white with navy blue stripes, but the way she's holding it I would recognize anywhere.
"Hey, Rhiannon," I say, coming up behind her and tapping on the shoulder.
She turns towards me and takes off her mask, looking bored. "Hey." I'm not even sure what her costume is.
I take in everything around me, nervous about being spotted by Reece or Reilly, thought I doubt either of them are as interested in finding us as they are in hanging out with their new friends. "How's it going?" I ask. She looks entirely disinterested in everything going on around her. I want to ask if she came here with anyone, hoping I'm wrong, but the evidence seems to speak for itself.
"Kind of thinking I might go home. This is lame."
I study the square, trying to see what she's seeing. It looks like the whole town has come out tonight, and everyone from toddlers to seniors are decked out in costumes, talking to their neighbors and eating home made snacks.
I don't know how I do it but I convince Rhiannon to come at least meet the people who I'm starting to think of as my friends here in Fairview. I don't think she's interested in meeting anyone at all, but the walk home by herself in the cold can't be all that appealing either.
"Hey," I say reinserting myself into the group. "I tracked down one of my sisters and I wanted to introduce you guys. This is Rhiannon." I wave my hands around in a flourish and pull my sister out from behind me.
"Hey." Is all Rhiannon says, and not all that enthusiastically.
At once everyone is on her, introducing themselves. Apparently, she has two cla.s.ses with Jen, and I can already see the two of them having a bunch of things in common. If only I can get Rhiannon to open up a little.
We work our way around the square, checking out various stalls, or stopping to eat. Rhiannon and I frequently end up hovering around in the back of the crowd as Jen, Rosie and Kent run into other people they know. Inevitably, were always introduced with great enthusiasm and I do my best to seem friendly. I'm sure I come off as awkward more often than not. But Rhiannon makes no effort at all. She clearly doesn't want to be here and is taking it out on everybody.
Eventually, I pull her side. "Okay, what's wrong with you?" She's not a people person on a good day, but she's always been good at the political face and making small talk when necessary. Better than me, if nothing else. But today, she's just being rude. She hasn't said anything outright, but she's making it abundantly clear she's not impressed with everything going on around her. And she's barely speaking at all. I already regret inviting her to come hang out with us but can't exactly banish her. "You clearly don't want to be here. Why don't you just go home?" I try to make the suggestion sound as though I'm worried about her and not about me, but Rhiannon is not even listening.
"Mom and dad won't let you stay out that much later anyway, and the younger kids have mostly already left. I may as well wait it out until I can get a ride back to the h.e.l.lhole we call a house."
I don't have it in me to argue, so I leave her struggling behind us, as I take a few long strides and catch up with Rosie and praying that no one else attempts to talk to her tonight.
"Well, your sisters a lot of fun,"
"She's really not. I'm sorry she's being so miserable." Both Rosie and I glance back toward Rhiannon, and right away I wish we hadn't. When Rhiannon is wearing her resting b.i.t.c.h face, she looks just like me. Everyone's going to see her acting this way and think that I'm the same. Why does she have to ruin this for me? "She's been miserable ever since she moved here. I'm trying to make it better for her, but she just wants to be awful."
Rosie frowns, but looked sympathetic. "Well, your other sister seemed nice. Reilly and I take art together. There hasn't really been any chances for me to talk to her yet, but she seems super friendly."
Well, at least half of the Donovan sisters can be trusted to make a good first impression.
Thanks to her eagerness to get away from anything that might be considered fun, Rhiannon and I are the first to arrive back in the parking lot where my mom's car sits beside Dad's new van-not his first choice in vehicle, by the way. I can spot both of my parents nearby, still huddled in a group of adults talking excitedly and pointing out people in the crowd.
By the time Reece joins us, she's ditched her costume entirely. Someone will probably find her wings and crown piled on a bench somewhere tomorrow and have no idea that they belonged to a fifteen-year-old girl instead of a ten-year-old one.
"Did anyone see Reilly tonight?" I ask. "Did she even come?"
My sister picks that same moment to show up from behind the van, toward us from the other direction. "I was there," Reilly says with a smile. "You just didn't spot me."
She's not wearing any kind of costume at this point either. "What were you wearing?"
"I don't know," she says. "You tell me. Because I saw you hanging out with Kent, the reporters son, by the haunted house. You found Rhiannon for me, but unless either of you or our fairy princess over here can tell me what my costume was, I think I win."
No one has any answer for her, so I stick out my tongue. "I didn't even think you'd be playing." Reilly rarely has an ounce of compet.i.tive spirit, preferring to leave everyone happy rather than someone victorious over the others, but that doesn't always apply to her sisters. And if there's one thing she takes pride in, it's knowing us better than we know ourselves.
For me, I feel like I'm usually wrong when I make guesses about my sisters, especially if I'm trying to base anything on what I would do. They always turn around and do something different, probably because they know it drives me crazy.
"Wow," Mom says, turning to Dad as the two of them approach us, "we didn't need to round them up tonight. I'm impressed, and a little shocked."
I half expect Mom to follow that up with something about Fairview bringing out the best in us, but instead she opens the car door and throws her purse inside, "Everyone have fun?"
We all mumble vague answers before climbing into various cars. I end up sprawled over the back bench in the van, twisted around my seatbelt so that if my dad yells back here to ask if I'm buckled in, I don't have to lie to him.
I grab my phone out of my bag for the first time in hours to find eight texts and two missed calls from Nadine.
Nadine: Hey, what are you up to tonight?
MISSED CALL FROM NADINE.
Nadine: Big news! Call me right when you get this.
Nadine: Or wait, are you at that town thing?
Nadine: Dying to talk to you!
It goes on like that a bit longer before culminating in another phone call twenty minutes ago.
The drive back home seems to move perilously slow as everyone tries to leave the center of town at the same time, and I hate talking on the phone while other people are in the room. For basically anyone other than Nadine and my family I hate talking on the phone at all.
Reagan: On my way home now. I'll call you in ten.
Nadine: Finally!
A minute later...
Nadine: Nope. Can't wait. Telling you now.
I have all of a few seconds to brace myself, not sure if I should prepare for good or bad news before she spills it.
Nadine: I'm coming to visit! My mom talked to your mom yesterday and I'm going to spend Thanksgiving with you guys.
I scramble upright, trying to untangle myself before the next text comes in.
Nadine: You can't tell though. It's a surprise.
Reagan: What, you were going to last all the way until Thanksgiving without telling me this? Yeah right. My mom knows that would never happen.
Nadine: Just for a few days until they told all of you. Your parents have invited people for your sisters too. One big reunion.
A little of my excitement fades at the idea of having a bunch of my sister's friends around at the same time as Nadine, taking away from the first time we've had to hang out in forever. But to be fair, they won't want anything to do with us either.
Reagan: I'm surprised your mom agreed.
Nadine: Right?! But your mom must have convinced her somehow. She'd already sorted out the details before she'd even told me. This is happening!
I head straight for my room as soon as we're home, hoping for a little time to ease my excitement before I have to talk to any of my family. If they see me right now they would definitely know something is up. And since Nadine has a bit of a reputation for not being able to keep a secret to save her life-she once told my sisters and I about our surprise party literally the day after she'd been invited-my mom would immediately know what was up. I have to guess that Mrs. Nng wasn't supposed to even tell Nadine yet. And now that I know it's going to be hard to pretend I don't.
There's still a month to go before Thanksgiving, which is going to be slow and torturous to get through. But maybe by the time Nadine gets here, I'll have some actual friends I can introduce her to. People who hopefully help prove that not everyone who lives in a small town is as boring as we thought they'd be. I don't want her to think I've made some new life without her, but it would be nice to be able to show her that I've managed to make a few friends all on my own.
Chapter 13.
When we get home from school the next day, Dad is already in the kitchen working on dinner. A thick gravy sits in a pan on the stove, and it smells like there might be roast chicken in our future. Thank G.o.d someone in this house knows how to cook.
My sisters and I will end up with high expectations for any men we end up with, because in our house Mom is well known as a terrible cook, while Dad has been preparing lunches and dinners for us for as long as I can remember. And so far, not one of us has taken any time to learn how to cook for ourselves, something he is always threatening to get us involved in.
The four of us all collapse around the kitchen table, each taking our usual seats. "How was school?" Dad asks right on cue. We all say something along the lines of fine, but for once he doesn't pick a target to hone in on and ask for specifics. Even as he stirs something on the stove, he is using his other hand to type on his phone.
The front door slams shut and we all jump at once, Dad almost dropping his phone. "Sorry!" Mom calls. "Hit the door too hard."
Everyone settles back down and a moment later Mom has joined us in the kitchen, one big happy and hungry family.
"I'm starving," Mom says before leaning over to give our dad a quick kiss. "When's dinner?"
"Not for a while. Anyone who's hungry, can grab an apple or a granola bar but we are not eating until about six."