Inferno

twenty five | the spooked bash

Skimming through the fresh article sitting in my mailbox covering the latest grand slam match, I don't realise when it's past six already with my lower back comfortably sunken on the mattress and hand toying with bits of burnt corn and sticky cheese in the popcorn bowl on the side. It was an impromptu work from homish day with a sudden onslaught of construction workers at our under reboot office, much to the contentment of an already excited Naina, who dragged me to a costume store to help me pick one out for the party today. Later, we picked her carved pumpkins from a shop called 'All things spooky' apparently opened by four delinquents granted bail on Halloween last year. She said it starts at six thirty, and by Harvey time, he probably won't come to pick me up by seven, yet I should start getting ready. Sighing to myself, I clear the mess off my bed, glancing about once I'm in the kitchen, and concluding Elise isn't back yet from her attorney visit.

We haven't conversed as much since her birthday, except when we're both in the garden and even so, the strain and shame hasn't gone entirely. I won't be surprised if she has figured how largely I resonate with her story, and from a perspective from where I'm both, thr victim and the villain, just the threads needled aren't all that same. Except I've still got a slipping chance to grab the pages and change the ending of one, if I have the courage to. A long shot and something I'm not sure I'm up for at the moment, I go immerse myself in trying ten different outfits, when I know I'm going to settle on the black one. The tube dress isn't as gripping or as chafing as the leather cat woman costume Naina begged me to buy, until deciding she wants it for herself.

Dressed and awaiting my carriage, I take to setting up the luggage I yet haven't bothered getting out of the bag. Instinct or chance, I begin with the duffle bag on top and of course it's there, pages brown at this point and edges bent to remind me how long it's really been. I pull it to myself, my knees scathing against the floor yet unmoving until my phone rings. Looking back at it, I drop the manuscript off my hands and out of it falls a dried red rose stuck between the pages. One of the many red roses.

Too many things vying for my attention, I leave the cluttered room as is, grabbing my purse before I lock the room behind me. Outside, the glaring headlights of Harvey's sedan make me squint under the now dark skies. "Took you long enough," Settling in, I look back at him in a full sleeved red sweater and jeans. "You're not in costume?"

"I am. I'm James Bond, but on his day off."

"Right, because I'm sure 007 wore Wranglers," partly scoffing, partly smiling, I pick up the aux cable on the dashboard, connecting it to my phone and a Selena Gomez album away when I realise it. We're not seventeen, it's not an Arizonian summer with a hundred degrees outside, and it's not another one of the post match hangout's we are going to. "I'm sorry, habits I guess," somewhat embarrassed, once again I only now see he's already repeating after the song playing, not minding any of it.

"Please don't tell anyone was humming to Boyfriend," he says, not as different from back then, except in 2014 it used to be Taylor Swift and I wasn't as kind. "Wait, what are you supposed to be?"

"I am..." I pull out the netted back eye mask from my clutch, the silver borders of it shining brighter than I'd want to, "someone who apparently didn't get the memo that it is Halloween and not a masquerade."

"Clever," he quips, the smirk on his face intact until I take care of it with a shove to his arm, ignorant of how mine rests on top of his weaved sweater sleeves for the rest of the ride.

At Naina's, it does feel as good as a high school house party with the crowd extending to her backyard; a safe spot for the smoke bellowing out of rounds of weed to not choke anyone and away from all the flammable toasty hued drinks in people's hands inside. She's really gone all the way with the decorations, and the lopsided smiles of the pumpkins are the least scary of the lot. So have all the guests, with a Snow White posing next to an Annabelle dummy in a corner, barely paying attention to Naina coming down the stairs, asking them to stay away from all the rental items. "Hey, don't ignore me Tiffany, I know it's you with the finger," she nearly runs past us, the tail of her costume brushing past the floor. "Sorry guys, I've been busy being the bouncer and the fun host. Not that they see a difference."