Chapter Two Noah
Chapter Two
Noah
What the hell did I come in here for? My eyes search the shelves in front of me, not really focused on anything because I can’t even remember why I’m at this damn store.
That girl knocked me on my ass. All, maybe, five foot six of her.
I’m literally standing here, mentally turning in circles while smiling like a loon.
A forceful whoosh of air bursts between my lips as I clasp my hands behind my head, forcing my T-shirt just up above my belt buckle. I can’t help myself and clock the ceiling mirrors in the front of the store again, knowing she’s gone. Because damn. I’m rocked.
I can’t say I’ve ever been picked up in a Walgreens by a girl in a dinosaur costume, possibly shoplifting fake blood. This is a first. And it’s either the most incredible origin story or the coolest party opener I’ll carry with me throughout my days.
Before I can lose myself to too much thought, my phone rings, forcing me to refocus back into the real world.
It’s my buddy Chase.
“What’s up?”
I wipe a hand over my mouth to try and make my smile go away.
“Dude. Where are you? The candy’s officially gone—” Candy.
I snap my fingers before grabbing an oversize bag of full-length Snickers.
“—and these kids out here are acting like the cast of The Sopranos. I just got shaken down for the change in my pocket by some little hustler dressed like a blue dog. Remind me never to agree to hang with you on Halloween again. Next year, I’m going to a dive bar with girls dressed like sexy cats. ”
“Shut up,” I laugh as I walk to the checkout. “I’ve got some more, but there’s a change of plans. I’m dropping it off because I got something to do. You’re on your own for the night.”
A chorus of high-pitched voices rings out on the other end: “Trick or treat.”
But before Chase answers me, he grumbles, “Beat it, we’re out.”
“Dude,” I toss out with a laugh as I hand the clerk the money for the candy.
But Chase keeps ignoring me because whatever three-foot-tall costumed gang standing on my front porch protests, “Aww, come on, it’s still early. This house sucks.”
There’s shuffling, maybe the sound of paper, before Chase snaps, “Here, Capone. Read a magazine, ya little teamster. Save the teeth you have left.”
The sound of the door on my house shutting has me laughing harder as the night air hits me. I’m only two blocks from my place, but I’m not sure he’ll survive until I get there.
“Why do people have kids?” he says before pivoting back to what I said. “And what are you talkin’ about? You invited me. I’m not babysitting your house, surrounded by these hoodlums. They’re probably gonna egg it anyway.”
I turn the corner as four tiny vampires run by, making me lift the bag so I don’t accidentally hit them with it.
“I met a girl.”
“Where?”
I shake my head over his lack of common sense.
“At Walgreens.”
He scoffs. “The only women at Walgreens at nine p.m. on Halloween are gram-grams and crackheads.”
“Well, she definitely wasn’t either.”
“Oh shit. How hot? Come on, details. She have a nice ass?”
“You’re disgusting. Stop it. You can’t talk about women that way.”
I cross the street, jogging a bit to let a car hurry and turn.
Chase draws out his words. “Throw a guy a bone. Between the two of us, you’re the handsome one. I have to live vicariously through your dating life. Last week, this gorgeous, leggy blonde told me I looked like someone who made their own cheese. What does that even mean?”
I chuckle. “You do make your own cheese.”
“I’m a chef, Noah.”
Now I’m really laughing.
“Listen, yes, she was gorgeous. But I have no idea what her ass looked like because I didn’t look . . . Also, she was in a blow-up dinosaur costume.”
I see my house a few doors away, and Chase is bravely walking back out onto my porch. A group of kids ascends. I hang up on him, pocketing my phone before tearing the bag open.
He points at me. “He’s got your loot, ya feral animals.”
I grin, filling little pumpkin buckets with candy bars before I walk up my stairs.
Chase steals a candy bar, rips the package open, immediately takes a bite, and talks with his mouth full.
“Bro, hot girls wear nurse’s outfits. And cats, as previously stated.
Even princess costumes with those garters.
Gahhh, fuck me,” he moans, his eyes rolling back.
“Those are the best. What they don’t wear is dinosaurs.
She’s a total red flag. That girl reads books and is probably up on current affairs.
And those girls definitely don’t make out in the bathrooms of dirty bars. ”
He’s literally hopeless. There’s a reason—maybe several—why he never gets a date.
“You’re depraved. You know that, right?”
He follows me inside the house as I toss the candy on a table by my front door.
Anticipating the sarcasm I know is dying to spill out of him, I beat him to the punch.
“The one thing I know in life is ‘hot’ is easy to achieve. ‘Interesting,’ though . . . Well, that’s way harder. And man, was she interesting.”
Chase flops down on my couch, kicking his feet up on the ottoman.
“So, you’re dissing your best friend for some interesting girl you just met . . . at a place where I buy my athlete’s foot powder.”
“You’re a fucking hater. And yes, I am.” I look over my shoulder, a thought bubbling before tumbling out. “I need a costume, though.”
“Wait, it’s a party. And I can’t go?”
“Yes, it is. And no, you can’t.”
He shrugs, finishing off his candy bar.
“Well then, that should be easy. Put on a sheet and go as a ghost since that’s what you’re doing to the bro-hood.”
I laugh. But honestly, not a bad idea.
An hour and a half later, my matte-black Indian Scout growls to a stop as I park in front of a warehouse. A large and fairly nondescript one, set against the pitch-black darkness, with no other vehicles in sight.
What the hell?
I look around because I’ve never been to this side of town, mainly because it’s industrial, just a bunch of warehouses by the docks.
A clang comes from the distance but dies out just as fast, forcing my head to swing over my shoulder. My eyes take in nothing, only darkness.
I wait for the sound to happen again, but I’m only met with silence.
Quiet is always eerie. The way it hangs in wait, almost taunting me, making my pulse the only thing I hear. I check the address on my phone before looking up at the steel building again and taking off my helmet.
Yeah, this isn’t ominous. I get invited to a random-ass party by a random girl, only to arrive at the beginning of a horror movie.
This may be the worst impulse I’ve ever acted on because currently, the vibe is a lot like Well, he really got himself killed and less like We never saw it coming.
I mean . . . Female serial killers are a thing. A shiver grazes my muscles. Jesus, I’ve got to stop thinking like this.
My phone dings with a text, reading my mind.
Chase: Yo . . . just me casually stalking my best friend’s location. This is a terrible idea. RIP or run, dude. Also, I ate the rest of the pizza in your fridge.
I shake my head as I dismount my bike, looking up and down the deserted street again. A streetlight flickers in the distance like a siren calling my attention, so I squint into the darkness, trying to see clearly, still coming up empty for any sign of life. If this is a party, where is everyone?
What’s wrong with me? What’s she going to do . . . steal my liver?
I pocket my phone before I reach inside the leather satchel attached to my motorcycle and pull out Chase’s creation—a spare bedsheet with flowers on it turned Casper.
Here goes nothing.
I make my way toward the door, still glancing toward a couple of spotlighted spaces along the dark, gravelly road. Movement catches my eyes, so I stare down to my left, locking on a crow perched on a bobbing cable wire strung between two poles. It’s staring back at me.
“Watch it, buddy. You almost got your ass beat,” I call out, entertaining myself.
In my defense, I think all men are suspicious by nature. We’re always on guard. Or maybe it’s just me mixed with . . .
God, I hate this night. This street isn’t helping, though.
Truthfully, Halloween always fucks me up. Ironically, the sheet over my shoulder isn’t my actual costume. Tonight, my real disguise is “normal guy.”
This year, though, I’m determined to enjoy the change of course from guy who dreads Halloween to the guy who’s met the most interesting girl.
Lost in my thoughts, I walk closer to the building, only a single door in view, and use my helmet to knock. But when nobody answers, I lean in, pressing my ear to it. Is that music? I swear I can hear the faintest sound. So, I bang again, harder.
With a jerk, it suddenly swings open, making a scraping sound like it needs to be oiled. I step back so it doesn’t hit me as music bounds out, wafting into the air around me.
Ha. There is a party. My liver lives another day.
A giant man wearing a yellow T-shirt labeled Thrills Event Staff looks me up and down, mostly down because he’s got to be almost seven feet tall.
“Entrance is at the front.”
“Oh shit, my bad. I parked here by mistake . . .” I say with weaponized incompetence, looking over my shoulder and hoping he doesn’t make me go around.
He looks annoyed but takes a clipboard from another yellow-T-shirt-wearing guy who’s passing by and grunts out his words.
“Name.”
Fuck yeah.
“Noah . . . Adler.” Why did I add that? She doesn’t even know my last name.
The Jolly Green Giant shakes his head. “First problem is you’re not wearing a costume.” He looks up from the clipboard. “Second, there’s nobody on the list with that name.”
I smirk because, somehow, I knew this might happen.
She really is the most interesting girl.
I hold out my helmet, my forehead wrinkling for him to do me a solid. He does with a sigh, making me grin as I drape the sheet over my head, adjusting the homemade eyeholes.
“First problem solved.” I gingerly take back my helmet, adding, “Try Damon Salvatore.”