2. Freya
2
FREYA
It’s a crisp fall evening, and I huddle closer to Margot as the rickety, horse-drawn wagon carries us to the haunted corn maze. Old-fashioned lanterns hang all around us, creating a passage of dim light as we near the giant stalks. An array of twinkling jack-o’-lanterns marks the entrance to the maze, their creepy pumpkin eyes glinting in the dark up ahead. A shiver runs down my spine, and I grin at Margot.
“This is going to be awesome.”
She raises an eyebrow, nodding her head toward the other people in the wagon. “You sure about that?”
I follow her gaze, looking around at the rest of our friends. They all brought their partners along, and each couple is currently taking advantage of the dark wagon ride to make out like horny teenagers.
Damn, this is definitely the start of a horror movie.
“We’ll still have fun,” I mutter, trying not to cringe when I hear a moan of pleasure from behind me. “It’s nearly Halloween! You need to get into the spooky spirit.”
Margot makes a reluctant sound. “Feels more like Valentine’s Day right now. Aka, the worst holiday of the year.”
I shake my head at her. My best friend isn’t much of a romantic. She’s sworn off guys forever, determined to stay single and protect her heart. I’m the opposite. It’s embarrassing how much time I spend daydreaming about being in love, and I can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy at the sight of all my friends paired up. Seeing them happy is wonderful; I just wish some of that happiness would come my way.
I’d love to meet my perfect match, but I’m not the kind of girl that guys fall in love with. Never have been. I’m too excitable, too clingy, too emotional…too “much”. My hand absent-mindedly reaches for the necklace I’m wearing. It’s in the shape of half a heart, carved out of wood. My grandpa made it for my grandma back when they first met—she wore one half of the heart and he wore the other. They’re both gone now, but I still wear my grandma’s half, with my grandpa’s kept safely in a drawer in my bedroom. That’s the kind of love I dream about. I just hope it still exists.
The wagon jolts to a stop, and I push down my thoughts with a deep breath, letting my anticipation take over. Our wagon driver, a man dressed as a creepy Victorian coachman, turns to look at us with a snarl. His face is painted white, his lips bloodless.
“End of the road,” he croaks. “This is where the living and the dead part ways. Better get out quick, or you may never leave.”
I leap out of the wagon with Margot close behind, both of us giggling. The coachman has to clap his hands to get the attention of our lip-locked friends. He breaks character, his croaky voice switching to normal as he says, “Hey! Come on, get outta here! I don’t want your damn bodily fluids all over my seats!”
Margot snorts, and we tell our friends to catch us up as we hurry into the corn maze. My heart is thudding as we push our way through the gloomy stalks, lanterns lighting up several paths that branch off in different directions.
“Which way do you thi?—”
Margot is cut off by the rustle of leaves. Something is creeping about in the shadows to our left, and we both freeze, eyes wide as we look at each other.
“Maybe it’s just the wind?” I whisper.
With a demonic growl, the Grim Reaper bursts from the corn. His scythe shines in the moonlight, his skeletal mask white as bone as he stumbles toward us. I scream, my pulse racing as I shoot off in the opposite direction, with Margot close behind me. Every corner brings a new terror: scarecrows with stitched smiles grabbing at us, a blood-stained farmer with a maniacal grin lugging a chainsaw behind him, a screeching woman in a tattered wedding dress, reaching for us with shaking hands.
Margot and I squeal, adrenaline pushing us forward as we dart through the maze, rushing past other terrified people. We dodge a pair of ghostly twin girls in blue dresses, asking us to play, before we reach a fork in the maze. I’m about to turn right when a clown leaps out, its grotesquely painted face leering at us. My whole body jumps violently, and I careen to the left instead, running until I reach a quiet corner where no ghouls are waiting for us.
“Holy crap,” I say breathlessly. “That clown was horrible!”
I turn, expecting to see Margot catching up to me, but the corn passage is empty.
Shoot.
No matter how much I love Halloween, there’s no way I’m brave enough to tackle this haunted maze by myself. I need to find Margot before I literally pee my pants, but the corn maze is so disorienting, with identical stalks stretching in every direction. I wander around for a few minutes, trying to follow the sound of screaming and laughter, but everywhere I turn seems to be a dead end.
Picking up the pace, I turn one corner, then another, breathing fast. A left, then another left…
SMACK.
I walk straight into a brick wall and stumble backward. The fall sucks the air from my lungs, and I blink up at the night sky, my head swimming.
“Shit.”
The deep voice startles me.
Brick walls can’t talk…and why would there be a brick wall in a corn maze, anyway?
My world comes back into focus, and I look up into the face of a giant peering down at me. He’s lit up by the orange glow of a nearby lantern, and I take in his thick beard and deep green eyes, the color of pine needles. Concern pinches at his handsome features, and he bends down to reach for me, lifting me to my feet like I’m as weightless as a fallen leaf. The contact makes me shiver in a way that has nothing to do with the frosty evening, and I take a step back from the man, lifting my head to look at him. He looks just as big now that I’m on my feet, towering above me. I can’t take my eyes off his broad shoulders and thick chest, and I feel a burst of warmth deep inside me, making my whole body tingle.
Holy crap.
He’s the hottest man I’ve ever seen. I can smell his masculine scent—like wood smoke and apple cider—and I get a crazy urge to bury my face in his chest and breathe him in.
Nope. Be normal, Freya. Don’t smell strangers.
“I’m sorry,” the man says, his voice so deep it raises goosebumps on my arms. “Didn’t see you there. You okay? Not hurt?”
He’s looking at me with so much seriousness, so much intensity, as if my well-being is immensely important to him. I can feel myself blushing, and I step away from the lantern closest to me, trying to hide my pinkening face.
I should tell him I’m fine, laugh it off, make a joke about how clumsy I am. Heck, I should say something .
“Yeah, I…I’m okay! Sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going. I didn’t see you either! I got lost…there was a clown, s-so I ran. I was with my friend before, but then she went right and I went left. So I didn’t know where to go. I was just wandering around the maze like a headless chicken…or I guess a headless horseman? Since it’s nearly Halloween? Ha…” My mouth is dry, my gaze darting around, looking anywhere except at the gorgeous man in front of me. I take another step back and my sweater snags on a cornstalk, almost making me fall again. The man moves forward like he’s about to help me, but I manage to free myself with a hard tug.
“I’m okay,” I assure him, laughing awkwardly.
Oh, God, why am I like this?
Trust me to meet the hottest man in the world and act like an idiot in front of him.
“Freya!”
I whip around at the sound of my name in the distance. It’s Margot calling for me.
“That’s my friend,” I tell the man. “I should go…sorry again for running into you like that…”
“You don’t need to be sorry.”
I can feel his gaze on me, and something warm and urgent blooms between my legs. It’s getting harder to breathe. The air around us seems to thicken, the cornstalks closing in, and I can’t force myself to move. Those eyes are fixing me to the spot. We stare at each other for only a second too long, but it feels like forever.
“FREYA!”
Margot’s voice is closer than before, like a shock of cold water pouring over me. The spell is broken, and I take a step back from the man, my head spinning.
“I…um…see you!” With a deep breath, I finally turn away, scurrying toward the sound of my name. Those green eyes burn into my back as I run, and my heart is still pounding long after I catch up with Margot.
“Where did you go?” she asks breathlessly, looping her arm through mine. “I thought one of those crazy clowns got you!”
I force a laugh, letting her drag me deeper into the maze, but my thoughts keep drifting back to him—the handsome giant with a voice like thunder. For the rest of the night, I keep my eyes peeled, looking for him among the shivering cornstalks. But he’s gone, swallowed up by the shadows of the maze, leaving me with a feeling of deep longing that I can’t explain.