Eliza and Her Monsters(20)
rainmaker: btw they’re all huge MS fans. Don’t know if I mentioned that.
rainmaker: Also I’m driving, so don’t worry about getting there.
Well. I suppose he really wants me to go. That must be a good sign. I thought he was as quiet and weird as me, but he’s not at all. He’s not exactly the center of social life at Westcliff, but this is way more forward than I’d be with anyone. If I invited someone somewhere—unlikely—and they told me they’d think about it, I’d end up barricading myself in my room and never speaking to them again.
Here’s what I know about this party so far:
? Wallace wants me to go
? Wallace’s friends will be there
? There will be Monstrous Sea cosplay
? I will miss the Dog Days Halloween special
? It will be at a bookstore, which is not particularly partyish
It doesn’t sound completely terrible. And I’m sure if I don’t like it, I can find some excuse to leave. But I’ll miss doing my live commentary on Dog Days.
Wait. I get up from the computer and stick my head out my bedroom door, looking over the balcony railing.
“Hey!”
“What is it, Eggers?” Dad walks out of the kitchen in his windbreaker and running shorts and looks up the stairs.
“Do I have to walk around with Church and Sully for Halloween this year?”
Dad frowns. “Church and Sully are doing Halloween this year? Are they too old for that yet?”
He asks it honestly, because he really doesn’t remember. He knows they’re in the same grade, and that they’re under fourteen because they play on all U-14 sports teams, but anything beyond that is details. Sully is fourteen, Church is thirteen; born eleven months apart exactly, and most people think they’re twins.
“They’re kind of too old for it, yeah,” I say.
“Oh. Well, ask your mom.”
“Is she home right now?”
“No, she took Davy for her quick 10K with her marathon students.”
“What? Davy can’t run a 10K!”
He holds his hands up in surrender. “They’re jogging, and the slow students always take care of him anyway. He’s fine.”
Mom teaches classes for people who want to get in shape to run marathons, which means by definition everyone who signs up is out of their minds. The idea of them pulling my old dog around does not put me at ease.
The front door opens behind him, and Church and Sully barge in, shoving each other over the threshold. They nearly crash into Dad, who steps out of the way just before they reach him.
“Hi, boys,” he says genially, smiling again and following them into the kitchen. Their conversation floats up the stairs to me. “How was school today?”
“Macy Garrison stole Church’s calculator and wouldn’t give it back until he promised to buy her a candy gram on Valentine’s Day,” Sully says. The refrigerator door bangs against the counter and the shelves rattle as they pull food out.
“I’m not going to do it, though,” Church says, quieter.
“Were you two going out for Halloween?” Dad asks. I creep down the stairs to hear them better.
“No,” Sully says. “Halloween is for little kids.”
“I thought we were . . . ,” Church says, his voice tapering off at the end.
“Eliza wanted to know if she had to take you guys out again.”
“Eliza hates doing stuff with us,” Sully says.
It’s not true—I don’t hate doing stuff with them, it’s just that most of the stuff they like doing is stuff that makes me uncomfortable or angry. Like throwing balls, or moving faster than a quick walk.
Sully yells, “NO, ELIZA, YOU DON’T HAVE TO TAKE US TRICK-OR-TREATING!”
I slink back up the stairs and catch the tail end of Church muttering, “Geez, kill my eardrums.”
Well, great. Now I don’t even have the excuse of having to take Sully and Church out for Halloween. I could lie, though, and say I do . . . Wallace wouldn’t be able to see through that, right? He doesn’t know where I live, or how old my brothers are, or even how serious we are about Halloween, which is not at all.
But I don’t want to lie to him. I’m already lying to him about the LadyConstellation thing, though that’s more omission than anything else.
Normally I don’t have any problem lying my way out of things. Of course, normally the only people I have to lie to are my parents and brothers, and all I have to say then is I’m sick, or have too much work. My family is easy like that. I don’t have friends from school who ask me to do things. Not until now.
I return to my computer, sit, and scratch at the edge of my pen display for a moment. A Monstrous Sea page is still pulled up on its screen—Amity fending off hordes of enemies with the Watcher’s orange crystals. Amity wouldn’t lie to someone to get out of something. If she didn’t want to do it, she’d say it right to their face. And if she was unsure, she’d go do it anyway to test the waters. She’s a quiet, keeps-to-herself kind of person, but she’s not scared of doing things and going places.
I’m not normally one to take advice from my own fictional characters, but there comes a point in every girl’s life where she reaches a crossroads: a night alone with her sweatpants and her favorite television show, or a party with real, live, breathing people.