Whatever It Takes (Bad Reputation Duet #1)(52)
“Let’s go,” I say.
Loren’s lips curve upward and he slips around me to open the limo door.
What am I getting myself into?
*
Of course, Loren surprises everyone with a night at the Halloween Horror Fest, an annual October event at the nearest theme park. Mazes are decked out with decorations, and actors dressed as ghouls and zombies attempt to scare the guests.
Two out of ten on the “fright” factor. I swear I saw a vampire eating a pretzel on break. There’s nothing terrifying about that.
Before we even make it to a maze, we stop at an iron café table in a safe zone where the actors aren’t allowed to scare us.
Since I’m with the “core six”—as the internet affectionally calls Lily, Loren, Rose, Connor, Ryke and Daisy—bodyguards linger nearby in case they get a wave of unwanted attention. So far, only a few fans have stopped and asked for selfies and autographs. There’d probably be more if this place wasn’t so disorienting with the fog, screams, and eerie music.
Mostly, I ignore everyone around me, including the automated cries that come from the nearby mazes.
Straw between my lips, I hold a soda with one hand and scroll through my phone. Willow should be asleep by now. She went to her first Wakefield Halloween party, and she texted me a bunch of drunk texts about an hour ago.
Willow: Garrrrisoon! Ur face is pretty. I miss ur face
Willow: ur my fav person ever
Me: Are you home?
Willow: Not yet. Still at house. I’ll text pics. The decorations are… interesting
Whoever hosted just put out a bunch of fake spider webs and then a bowl of punch. That was it.
Willow: Lo would have a stroke if he saw
Me: Good thing he’s not there
Willow: I miss ur face. Did I say that alrdey?
Me: You did. But I’m pretty sure I miss your face more
Willow: not possible
Me: I’m going to see your face soon
Willow: Soon *sparkly heart emoji*
Me: praising hands emoji
That was the last text. She’s coming home for Winter Break, and it may still be over a month away, but I’m starting the countdown. Fuck, I’ve been counting down since she left.
A shriller scream blasts from one of the foggy mazes nearby. Our current spot resides closer to the main entrance, and I’ve already been briefed how this table is “home base” in case anyone gets lost.
Which—if I had to bet would be Lily. Scratch that, she’s clinging to her husband so tight, there’s no way she’d drift away from the pack.
Maybe I’d say Daisy, but she’s going to be chilling at home base all night. Daisy’s white husky is sprawled across her lap as she digs into a bag of cinnamon rolls that Lily and Loren brought back from a Cinnabon run.
I was kind of surprised Daisy even came along to this, considering she has PTSD, and this place should be hell for anyone who gets triggered by sudden, piercing noises. But maybe she just didn’t want to miss out.
The night is special enough that the Calloway sisters brought costumes for everyone. Albeit, simple costumes, but they thought about that shit.
A flower crown rests on Daisy’s blonde hair, an identical one on Ryke’s head. Lily and Loren sport glittery alien antenna headbands, while Rose and Connor wear these regal golden crowns. I don’t even think they’re plastic. Like, legit crowns. The Cobalts have to be the most extra people I know, and honestly, I can’t believe I work for one of them.
I fix my backwards baseball hat. It lights up to spell out the word boo.
Maybe my costume is a literal flashing hat so that Loren makes sure I don’t ditch them, but I kind of like that it’s loud but not too loud. The flopping antennas would have annoyed the fuck out of me.
I glance up from my phone just to see Connor and Rose still arguing over the route. The park map is spread over the table, and they both brandish Sharpies like there’ll be a test at the end of this. Fastest Through the Mazes isn’t a thing.
“What are you doing?” Rose snaps at her husband. “That is the worst path. You can’t go from Texas Chainsaw Massacre to Nightmare on Elm Street.”
“Why not?” He grins like he knows what she’s about to say but wants to hear it anyway.
“We’re not doing gore back-to-back.” She gathers her hair on one shoulder and traces a line on the map. “It’s better if we do The Ring maze in between.”
A chainsaw roars, pretty close. Girls run away from the masked actor as he chases them. Legally, he can’t touch them, so running away is the wrong way to go. From experience, the actors prey on the people who look like they’re about to piss their pants.
I’m about to return to my phone, but Rose’s voice grabs my attention again.
“Gore does not frighten me,” Rose retorts. “If you don’t believe me, give me a fucking knife and I’ll stab you myself and you’ll see how frightened I’ll be.” She motions to him for a knife.