My stomach goes through a full spin cycle, the remnants of tonight’s dinner churning a not-so-subtle warning as I yank the seatbelt across my chest and click it into place, silently willing my body to calm down so I don’t puke.
I am going to this bonfire. Damn the consequences. This might be my only chance to be with Nicholas alone, away from Mom’s and the church’s prying eyes. No way I’m missing it when last time I saw him, he was thinking about me all service, hoping I would show up tonight. He’s attracted to me. I’ve read his mind enough to know. Even if I couldn’t read his thoughts, it would be clear in the way he stares as me when I pretend not to see. But nothing’s going to happen between us if he never gets the chance to talk to me when we’re not busy passing out the offering plates or filling the communion trays.
“Nice to finally meet you in person.” Kaia offers me her hand. I give it an awkward shake. My palms are embarrassingly clammy.
“You ready for this?” Kaia asks as she settles back into her seat, one eyebrow raised, a wicked grin on her face.
“Absolutely,” I say, working to keep the quaver out of my voice.
LIKE HELL YOU ARE. Kaia’s thoughts are extra loud now we’re sitting so close together. I wince.
Out loud, she says “Well, alright, let’s get this party started. Whoo hoo!” Her voice is bright and eager as she reaches into the backseat and grabs a beer. She cracks it open and dangles it next to my face. “Thirsty?”
“But you’re driving,” I splutter, unclicking my seatbelt. Sneaking out is reckless but getting in a car with someone who’s planning to drink and drive is downright stupid which I am not.
Kaia laughs. “It’s for you, silly. Not me. You need to relax if tonight’s gonna be any fun at all. Don’t worry. No way you’ll get drunk off just one.”
Reluctantly, I take the can from Kaia and take a tiny sip. The taste is yeasty and gross. Not bad. But not good either.
Kaia rolls her eyes. “Seriously? Girl, down the thing.”
I make a face. “But the taste.”
Kaia blinks. “Wait, you’ve never had a beer before? Shit, you really are a shut in.”
I can’t help blanching even if she’s right. I basically never leave my house, not even for the town’s big events and celebrations. Especially not for those. That many people? That many thoughts in one place? A total nightmare. It’d be like drowning in a tsunami of noise.
But I’ve got a strategy to make it bearable this tonight…hopefully.
I reach into my pocket to reassure myself that my Airpods are tucked inside. My plan is to play music, real headbanger stuff that’s loud and obnoxious enough to block out most of the thoughts that’ll come at me tonight. At some point I’ll have to take them off if I want to talk to Nicholas, but hopefully I’ll be able to pull him away from the crowd to a more private section of the beach. Admittedly, it’s not the best plan, but it’s all I’ve got. It has worked at church before when attendance is higher than the usual ten to twelve people.
I take another drink. A big one this time. Maybe it’ll dim the mental noise too so I might be able to pass for normal. I can already feel my brain softening around the edges.
“Atta girl!” Kaia crows, cranking up the music in the car as she turns the corner, and we enter downtown.
I do a quick scan of the street, looking for cop cars as I tuck the beer between my knees. I am still underage after all. It’s nearly eleven thirty on a Thursday night, so there aren’t many people out. One guy walking his dog, shoulders hunched against the cold. His thoughts are all about how tired he is, how work is killing him.
Two women loiter together beside their cars outside the most popular bar in town, The Salty Dog, their conversation all raucous laughter and shrieking protests. The light turns red, and we roll to a stop a few feet from them.
“I am not calling him!” the dark-haired woman shouts, face flushed.
“Liar,” the other laughs.
Their thoughts pepper my brain, fast and furious. The dark-haired one is definitely going to call the guy—Jack— but apparently so is the other lady!
“Pipe down you two. You’ll wake the dead.” A man with neatly-trimmed red hair and a beard to match calls to the women from his perch on a ladder beside the bar’s entrance. He’s in the process of hanging a black banner that reads “Happy Hour All Night Every Night of the Fest” in bright orange lettering. Even balanced precariously on the rickety old ladder, he manages to look refined in his ivory sweater and expertly tailored trousers.
That’s odd. I stare hard at the man. Either the beer is working a little too well, or I can’t read his thoughts. Like at all. His head is a void, impenetrable. That…that’s never happened before. I concentrate harder on him. Still nothing.
“Maybe this year you’ll finally go?” Kaia asks, nodding at the sign.
I barely hear her. Why can’t I read him?
“Seraphina?”
I blink, realizing I haven’t answered her question.
“Maybe?” I say, uncertainly, hopefully. I have always wanted to attend. The “Fest” is short for the Shadow Bridge Halloween Festival. It’s named in honor of this famous ghost story written by famous local author, Vivian Jericho, who lived here about a hundred years ago. Next to The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, it’s the most popular story to come out of New England. It’s so well known that every October people travel from all over the world just to see the sights described in the story for themselves. The town was even renamed Jericho Point in the author’s honor.
There’s a haunted hayride and all sorts of games and craft booths, but Mom would never allow it. I haven’t fought her on it because I know all too well what will likely happen if I do. Still, if tonight goes well, if I can control my mind-reading some, maybe I could this year? No, I will join this year. I am twenty-fucking-years old. Grow a spine.
“Save a drink for me, Mr. Kane!” Kaia hollers out the window at the red-haired man.
He glances up from his sign hanging and raises a brow at Kaia and I can’t hear anything going on between his ears. Nothing. How? Part of me is reveling in it—the absence, but the other part is weirded out. This has never happened before.
“Certainly,” he calls. “At next year’s festival when you turn twenty-one.”
Kaia groans loudly and Mr. Kane smiles. Then his eyes flit to me and widen. They’re nearly all black, depthless. His mouth parts slightly so the tips of his canines show.
I grip the can in my hand a little tighter. Why is he looking at me like that? Like a lion examining a gazelle, trying to decide whether or not to pounce.
“Kaia, we should go,” I say, but unbelievably, the light’s still red.
“Who’s your friend?” The man asks Kaia as he climbs down the ladder, his gaze locked on me, intent enough to make me want to sink down in my seat and hide.
Kaia starts to answer, but is drowned out by firetruck sirens. Two of them careen past us through the red light before turning in the direction we just came from. I catch snatches of the firemen’s thoughts as they fly past: house fire. Possible casualties.
I swallow hard. Mom. Could it be? But then I catch one last bit of information as their sirens trail off behind us: Family of four.
Mr. Kane is off the ladder, coming toward my side of the car now, his mind still an unsettling void. I hit the car’s automatic lock button. Those eyes and not knowing what he’s thinking is freaking me out. I hold my breath, unable to speak or tear my gaze away from his. He leans down close to my window, eyes flashing animal-like under the streetlights. This close I can see several crimson stains on the collar of his sweater, little drops that look like blood.
I recoil and his expression hardens.
Thankfully, just before he reaches my door, the light turns green.
“Sorry, Mr. Kane, gotta go,” Kaia hollers out her window.
She turns down the road beside the harbor and accelerates toward the cliffs at the far end of town. I turn to look out the rear window, goosebumps prickling on my arms and legs. Mr. Kane is standing in the center of the road, staring into the car, at me. His hands are balled into fists at his sides.
“What’s his problem?” I ask out loud, more to myself than Kaia, my voice threaded with panic.
She shrugs. “You’re the most famous recluse in town. He probably just wanted to chat you up out of curiosity. He is sort of weird, but harmless, I swear.”
But she didn’t see the blood.
A collection of fishing trawlers and tourist boats bob cheerily beside the docks, dark and silent as graves. Between Mr. Kane, those blood stains, and the firetrucks everything’s taken on a pallor of doom. Are they all not so subtle warnings that I shouldn’t be doing this? My heart flutters unsteadily inside my chest, but I don’t ask Kaia to turn the car around.
Get a hold of yourself, Seraphina.
The man could’ve cut himself shaving. It’s not like I caught him with a knife or something. And on any given weekend, surely there are fires and car accidents and all sorts of calamities happening. At least there’s always one or two being covered on the news. There’s no more doom than usual. I’m just afraid because I’ve never done this before.
Afraid or not, I’m not backing out. I might never get the nerve up to try again. I’ll be stuck hiding from the world forever with just my thoughts or Mom’s rattling around in my head. For once I’d like my life to resemble the romance novels I have stashed under my bed. I want to feel Nicholas’s arms around me. Have him look deep into my eyes and gently brush the hair back from my face as he leans in for a kiss. Have his arms encircle me and hold me tight. The only way that’ll happen is if I go to the bonfire. Time to be romance-heroine-brave.
As if she’s able to read my mind, Kaia sing-songs “Hot church dude’s there. I texted my friend Rebecca. She said he got to the beach early to help set up. And get this: he asked if you were coming.” She raises her eyebrows suggestively, a wicked grin on her face. “You ready?”
I take another gulp from the can. My stomach pendulum swings from nervousness toward exhilaration. The beer’s not half bad now even if it’s nearly lukewarm.
Kaia shakes her head and laughs. “Is that a no or a yes?”
Is it my imagination or is the alcohol working. Have her thoughts dimmed just a bit over the past few minutes? I barely register the “girl is gonna cut and run”* flitting through her head. Or maybe I’m too freaked out to care as much as I normally would.
“Yes,” I say with more confidence than I feel.
I’m not cutting and running. The fire trucks and Mr. Kane’s weird behavior aren’t omens. I’m just paranoid because I’ve never done this before. Tonight’s going to be everything I hope it will be. It has to be. My life’s been so solitary for so long that I deserve it…right?