Chapter 10 #2
We walk through the crowd, making sure I keep a hold of his arm, as I try to spot Berlyn. We timed it so we would reach the parking lot at the same time as the girls, but I’ve yet to spot either one of them.
There’ve got to be hundreds of people in this parking lot, all heading in the same direction to form a line into the repurposed warehouse. It’s bigger than I thought it would be. More of a production. And far more popular than I could have imagined.
Can all these people really go through this maze?
I glance at West where his grip around my arm is growing tighter as we get closer to the building that does indeed look abandoned. Yellow caution tape blowing in the breeze, broken windows, doorways with no doors.
They’ve been doing this haunted house for years now. Longer than any of us have been in this town. It’s one of the first things you hear about when you come to school here. You have to do the haunted house, at least once before you graduate.
The college and local theatre departments work together to pull it off each year. But even with all of the hype, I had never really spared a thought for it. Berlyn does it every year, but she does every single Halloween or Fall activity this town offers.
Ah, there she is, walking arm and arm with her same friend. I’ve never really seen her with anyone else. A part of me wonders why, but a larger part of me is grateful there are less people in her life we will have to compete with.
I nudge West and tilt my head in the direction of the girls.
They’re coming across at a diagonal angle toward the entrance straight in front of us.
We slow our steps, to give them the time to catch up and there’s only a small group of people between us when they reach the mass crowding around the end of the line.
We’re a step ahead of them, settling into the line when Summer spots us.
“Hotties spotted two o’clock,” she calls in nowhere near a whisper. Berlyn’s head snaps in the direction Summer said, which is the opposite direction of where we’re standing. I’d be offended, if her eyes weren’t locked on us with a maniacal grin.
She notices Berlyn looking in the opposite direction and smacks her. “Not there, over here,” she yells, pointing directly at us over the crowd still between us with no shame. I smirk when Jude raises his hand and waves to them right as Berlyn’s gaze lands on us.
Even from this distance I can see her face turn red as she smacks Summer. “That’s ten o’clock, you freak.” Summer’s smile only grows wider as she waves back at us.
“Whatever,” she says, waving Berlyn’s embarrassment off and dragging her to meet us. “Nice of you guys to save our spot,” she says in lieu of a greeting.
I gesture for them to join in front of us while Berlyn stares at her friend horrified. “You can’t just invade people’s space like that,” she scolds in whispered tones.
Jude releases West and drops both of his hands on Berlyn’s shoulders, pulling her back against his chest. “You can invade our space anytime, Berlyn.”
Her mouth drops open and closes a couple of times while her face heats once more.
Her friend snickers at her and Jude uses his chance to steer the conversation.
“I didn’t know you liked scary things,” he muses, not releasing her but not holding her tightly.
She doesn’t try to pull away from him either.
She swallows thickly, looking at her friend for help, but her friend only widens her eyes at her in a silent demand to get talking.
“Summer and I come here every year,” she starts, relaxing against Jude’s chest as she talks.
“Halloween is our favorite holiday. We try to do all of the activities that come with it and this town always has so much. It’s our favorite time of the year.
Do you guys like horror?” she asks, a brow raised as she stares at West’s face now drained of color.
I chuckle at her expression. “Jude and I are fans, West not so much.”
West grunts, glaring at me but only shrugs when he meets Berlyn’s gaze.
“We’re taking off tomorrow,” I continue, gesturing to myself and Jude, “for a work trip, so we thought we’d do something fun tonight before we go.”
“You’re staying behind, Weston?” she asks softly.
He nods, licking his lips and I know he’s trying to find the words to give her more.
With so many people around, I know it’s going to be hard for him but I’m proud of him for even trying.
I squeeze his arm in support. “I have appointments,” he explains, the words slightly mumbled but clear enough to understand.
I rub my hand up and down where it rests on his bicep and he leans into my touch, his lips quirking up into a slight smile.
Berlyn’s face brightens. “At The Living Canvas?”
Weston can’t hide his shock that she knows where he works, but nods, looking slightly sheepish. It’s a look I know well. One where he’s definitely falling more in love with our girl by the second. She makes him feel seen and understood. Something he’s never experienced outside of our small circle.
Jude holds his arm out for the girls to examine.
“He does all of our ink,” he brags for West because he’ll never brag for himself.
West’s nose scrunches and I think I even see a hint of a blush as Berlyn trails her fingertip over the designs coloring Jude’s skin and murmurs her appreciation for West’s art.
The line moves pretty quickly and we’re already nearing the entrance now, but West has relaxed as he’s listened to the girls and Jude talk. I keep my hand wrapped around his arm, but he’s no longer flinching at every stray bang emanating from the warehouse.
“Where are you guys going?” Berlyn asks, turning her attention back to me. Jude now has one arm slung over her shoulder as she rests against this side, looking all too comfortable. Who would have thought it would be this easy to integrate ourselves into her life?
Her friend looks smug as hell, watching how relaxed Berlyn is in Jude’s embrace. As if it is the most natural thing in the world. I can’t help but feel some satisfaction over it as well.
“West Coast,” I answer.
Her eyes widen with surprise and Summer looks intrigued. “Wow, you guys travel a lot for what you do?”
We’re veering into slightly dangerous territory now. Never do I want to lie to Berlyn, but it’s not like we can actually tell her what it is that we do right now either.
“Here and there,” Jude answers.
I pick up where he left off. “We do a lot locally mostly. This week we have meetings with some groups that could help our business in the long run.”
Vague enough without making her feel like we’re cutting her out.
Interest makes her eyes sparkle and thank god for divine intervention because just as she’s about to ask another question, it’s our turn.
The guy at the front scans our tickets and double checks we’ve all filled out the waiver before briefly going over the dos and don’ts of the haunted house. It’s all pretty straight forward, but his gaze lingers on Weston’s death grip on my arm when he reminds us all not to put hands on the actors.
I’d be offended but the warning is valid.
Berlyn watches Weston’s nod and giggles. “You’ll be fine, I promise. It isn’t too bad.”
The guy arches a brow. “Don’t lie to the poor guy. This year is far more intense than ever before.”
Weston jerks my arm, his brows furrowed as he gives me a questioning look. I pat his arm. “I told you, I’ve got you,” I repeat the reassurance to him. Don’t they always say shit like that at these things? Every year is bigger and badder. It’s hardly ever true.
“You can hide behind me West,” Berlyn offers with a sweet smile, unfazed by the guy’s warning.
It takes everything in me not to crack up because I know she’s being genuine but all I can imagine in my mind is a trembling doberman hiding behind a fierce little bunny. It’s adorable. On both of their parts.
Especially when West gives her an appreciative smile and actually loosens his grip on me and she beams back at him.
Summer snorts, turning to Jude. “You’re going to have to protect them both.
Berlyn always forgets how scared she gets.
” She shakes her head, eyeing her best friend who’s about to protest. “Every year, she gets so excited to come and every year we get in the middle and she cries, asking why we do this to ourselves.”
Somehow, none of that surprises me.
“Okay, that’s only because I thought that car was actually going to hit us last year,” Berlyn protests.
Car? Almost hitting them? That doesn’t sound exactly like what I was envisioning when we decided to come.
I’m suddenly having doubts about our participation in this event.
We should have crashed their apple picking instead.
Before Summer can respond, the guy working the door narrows his eyes.
He doesn’t think we’re going to make it through the end of the maze.
According to the sign next to him, only forty percent of the people who start this year’s maze, finish it.
“Right, well don’t forget you can yell ‘Mercy’ at any time and will be escorted out of the maze safely.
Y’all can go ahead and enter the elevator on the right,” he finishes, pointing us down a dark hall. My doubts are now at an all-time high.
If I worked here, I would take bets on what groups would make it and which wouldn’t. I wouldn’t be putting my money on our group. Maybe I should have read that waiver a little more closely.
Summer takes the lead with Berlyn and Jude right behind her, West and I closing our little group out. She walks confidently through the fog spilling through the hallway, making it hard to see anything with the small amount of light we have, and right into the open elevator.
Our group takes up nearly the entire space, all of our bodies brushing against each other as we settle into place. The only light comes from a single flickering bulb hanging from the top of the elevator that’s close to hitting West’s head.