#scadie

When the pain overwhelmed me, I slumped back against the brick wall and collapsed to the pavement. I tugged my feet up and hung my head between my knees, my hands clasped behind my neck. I tried to focus on my breathing, on the feeling of the pebble I was sitting on, the cars passing on the other side of the building. Anything that wasn’t going on inside.

The back door to the clinic shut quietly, but I didn’t need to look up. I knew the footfalls scuffing against the asphalt. I recognized the body sitting beside me without having to lift my head.

“I hate this,” I spat at the ground.

“I know,” he said calmly. “I’m not crazy about it either.”

I could hear the raw emotion in his voice, sadness and heartbreak everywhere I felt fury. I lifted my head with a rush of sympathy.

“Scott, that’s not—you know things aren’t the same with Isaac. However Allison feels about him, it could never be the same as it was with you.”

He gave a half-hearted shrug, resting his elbows on his knees. “It’s okay.”

“No, Scott. It’s not.”

“…yeah, you’re right. It’s not.”

We sat in silence for several minutes. Scott’s sadness ate at my rage, producing a unique chemical reaction that neutralized both of us. I sighed the last of my anger into the air and rested my head against the wall, and Scott reached over with a reassuring hand to pat my knee.

“It might not be okay now, but it’s going to be,” he promised. “We’ll make it out of this, just like we make it out of everything else. Deaton knows what he’s doing.”

“Deaton knows this is dangerous,” I countered, “and even if all of us do make it out of this, we still won’t be out of the woods. I heard what he said about the Nemeton, summoning all kinds of different creatures here. Lydia’s translated the bestiary, and I’ve read it front to back. If even half of that stuff is real, then…I don’t know how any of us are gonna make it past graduation, frankly.”

“Are you kidding? I don’t think an army of demons could stop Lydia from graduating.”

I snorted against my will, and ducked my head to hide my reaction. But this was Scott McCall. Even without super hearing, he knew exactly how to make people smile.

Scott pushed himself to his feet, then held out his hand for mine. He helped me stand, then pulled me into a warm, secure hug. I was too stubborn to admit it, but it made me feel better—far better than assaulting the dumpster had.

I screwed up my face, trying to keep the fear and sadness at bay.

“If you die, I’m gonna kill you.”

I felt Scott’s wide smile against my shoulder.

She had a ridiculous amount of mandatory Halloween traditions, everything from movies to a very specific casserole. But perhaps one of her favorite traditions was signing up to help in her neighborhood’s annual haunted house. It combined all of her favorite things—Halloween, costumes, and acting. And of course, there was the added plus of a rush of power as she reduced big burly men to elementary school girls whose scream could probably break windows. It was a rush, and she loved every second. On the other hand, putting in her all meant that it was pretty tiring after a few hours. As much as she loved it, she was looking forward to the end of her day.

Her costume this year was a fairly standard zombie bride, but she prized herself on the ability to make her makeup come to life. Pale, flaking skin, sunken eyes, and this year she’d even sprung for white-over contacts. Jagged nails and split, stitched skin, and most importantly, the large gash she’d added to her cheek with prosthetics. Torn flesh peeked out, and she’d added a few bugs over herself as well, and completed the look with a torn and bloody wedding gown. It was an all time high this year, if she said so herself. Or let her boss of the past three Halloweens say it either.

She stood at attention behind a heavy, velvet curtain. It muffled the sound of her breathing, though nine times out of ten the groups were too busy panting or whispering to hear anything around them. She liked her position a lot, because it wasn’t a traditional pop-up-and-scream. She could watch groups hurry past her through a sheer portion of the curtain, and wait until the last straggler had just gone past. Then she would push the curtain aside and join the fray. She was quiet and fast, always in position before the nervous ones started looking behind them. Then of course they would scream bloody murder, she would make a grab for closest walker, and they would sprint down the hallway. And then she’d set herself up and do it all over again.

At first, it didn’t seem like anything was different. A group of five wandered past her, and she squinted to assess her targets. Perfect. There were two couples who had paired off—a tall blonde boy with his arm around a ginger girl, and a brown-haired boy cowering in the arms of his less-than-amused brunette girlfriend. That left one boy with dark hair at the back of the group. He was clearly trying to be strong and brave even though he didn’t have a partner for the buddy system. He had his hands balled into fists at his sides, and he wasn’t letting himself look around either, lest he look nervous. And that suited Sadie just fine.

The group shuffled past and she crept out of her nook. She fell into step behind the boy, getting as close as she could before he turned around. They were nearly halfway down the hallway, and no one had noticed her. That meant she’d just have to call attention to herself.

She leaned forward, holding her breath so the last boy wouldn’t be able to feel it on the back of his neck. She counted to three, and then let out a low, unearthly moan.

“Aaaaaghagckkk!!!”

A sharp pain shot through her nose, and she couldn’t suppress a squeal of pain. Her hands clutched at her face, where the boy’s fist had collided with her when he whirled around in a fit of terror. She only allowed herself a second of pain before she regained her composure. She tried to zombie-fy her groans of pain as much as she could, and prayed that her eyes weren’t watering as much as they felt like they were. But it didn’t really seem like much of an issue. Both of the paired off boys had screamed at the top of their lungs and gone sprinting down the hallway, and their girls had let out small yelps of fear and run after them, already laughing.

The one thing she hadn’t counted on was the boy in front of her. He had smooth tan skin, a slightly lopsided jaw, and his expression was contorted with horror. “Oh my God—I am so, so sorry. A-Are you okay?”

Sadie almost stopped dead. Was this guy serious? She was a disgustingly horrifying zombie bride in the middle of a haunted house, and he was stopping to ask if she was okay?

She groaned, baring her teeth and advancing toward him. She’d been hoping to usher him down the hallway so she might have a few minutes to openly express her pain before the next group rounded the corner. But the boy didn’t budge.

“You’re not hurt, are you? You just really, really scared me. I mean, it’s a haunted house, but…”

Sadie groaned again, stepping toward him and getting in his face. He merely leaned back a bit, his feet staying firmly in their spot on the carpet as his eyes fought to keep her in focus.

“Uh, you—your makeup is really good. I’m sorry if I messed it up.”

She deflated. Clearly this guy wasn’t going to move. She was forbidden from touching or speaking to the patrons while in costume, but considering his fist had already been in contact with her face, she figured one of those rules had already been broken. She grabbed his shoulders, pleased when he jumped a bit in fear, and turned him on the spot. Then she started pushing him down the hall, until he finally caught on.

“O-Oh! Right, sorry, I’m… God, I’m so sorry. I hope you’re okay! Have—Have fun. Sorry.” Without pausing another moment, the boy skittered down the hallway after his friends, muttering under his breath as he went.

Sadie allowed herself a moment to sigh, gently pressing her fingers against her skin. She hissed in pain and pulled her hand back, quickly retreating to her curtain once more. She’d have to worry about the injury later. There were still a few more groups that had to walk through, and then she’d be able to go home and put some ice on it.

The night took longer than she really wanted, but eventually she got back to the dressing room and was able to take off her makeup. She groaned when she saw her eye. It was already starting to swell, and she was sure that there would be a bruise by tomorrow. She chose a few curses to grumble repeatedly as she got ready to leave. But really, it had been her own fault. They weren’t allowed to touch patrons, and getting that close to the guy had been putting herself in unnecessary proximity and opening herself up for injury. She’d just go home, watch Halloweentown and put some ice on it.

She’d been looking forward to getting home as soon as possible, but to her surprise, she found someone waiting for her in the parking lot. He was sitting on the steps to the building, his elbows on his knees and his dark head ducked as he played with his hands. She glanced at the time on her phone, and reluctantly headed over to him.

“You know the walk-through has been closed for over an hour, right?”

His head snapped up in surprise. “Sorry? Oh, yeah. I’m actually waiting for someone. Do you know if the girl who…uh, whoever the zombie bride at the end of the walk was? Did they leave yet?”

“Well I was about to hop in my car, but I guess I haven’t technically left yet.”

The boy’s eyes widened and he scrambled to get to his feet. “Oh thank God. I am so, so ridiculously sorry.”

“Really, it’s fine…”

“No really. I hit you so hard! I just want expecting it, obviously and uh…my mom works at the hospital, so if you think you need medical attention or anything, I could…”

“That—That really won’t be necessary,” she assured him, smirking as he fumbled over his words. “It’s probably gonna bruise a bit, but it’s nothing I can’t work around with the makeup.”

“I know, but still. I’m really, really sorry you got hurt.” He grabbed a bag from the stairs, and pulled out a small bouquet of flowers. He took a deep breath and handed them to her, mouth stretching into a very nervous grin. “Sorry that I punched you in the face for being a good actress.”

Sadie raised an eyebrow as she accepted the flowers. She couldn’t help glancing around the immediate area. This was definitely happening to her, right? This wasn’t a dream? Where did he even get these flowers? And more importantly…

“How are you getting home?”

The boy froze, pursing his lips for a few moments. He too looked around the parking lot, waiting to find the answer to my question written on a sign on spray painted on the ground. “Uh, I…didn’t really think that far. I guess I’m gonna call one of my friends to pick me up.”

“Right. What’s your name?”

“Uh, Scott.”

“Great. Well, Scott, I’m Sadie. How about I give you a lift home?”

His jaw went slack, and he was already shaking his head before he could form any words. “Oh, no, no, no, I don’t want you to have to…”

“No, really. For the flowers.”

“No! The—The flowers were because I hit you!”

“And I’m a haunted house actor who’s been hit before. It’s no big deal. Even though you do have a mean hook.”

Scott watched her for a few seconds, took a deep breath and smiled. “Okay. How about this? You can drive me home, if you let me pick you up for lunch tomorrow. Least I can do.”

She wanted to insist against it, but the boy was proving ridiculously resilient. She didn’t bother to deny him, and had to smother a giggle as she nodded. “Have it your way then.”

“Perfect. Uh, lead the way, Sadie.”

The two of them started toward her car, Scott jogging ahead to get the door for her. She narrowed her eyes a bit as he settled into her passenger seat, but he just sent her an innocent smile.

“So was this lunch date a spur of the moment thing?” she asked as she threw the car into reverse. “Or were you planning on taking me out before you knew who was under the makeup?”