30. Coffee
COFFEE
Charlie and I strolled through town after school, our hearts pounding with anticipation.
Everywhere I looked, Halloween decorations exploded in a riot of color and spooky schemes, and I couldn’t help but wonder where all the time had gone—how had the season slipped away so quickly?
Skeletons stood in an eerie procession along the streets, each dressed in different bizarre outfits for the elementary school’s Halloween contest, their hollow eyes seeming to whisper secrets.
Fake cobwebs clung to the storefront windows, and pumpkins of every possible shape and size dotted the parking lots and street corners, their jagged grins glowing in the waning light.
As we wandered past the new gym—Charlie’s dad’s purchase since they moved—I felt a spark of curiosity ignite within me, but I knew she wasn’t ready to talk about her family.
Still, I couldn’t help but feel a swell of affection for her, for how she cared so fiercely, for how she made everything brighter just by being there.
We were practically inseparable, and in that moment, simply being with her felt like enough.
Charlie and I made our way toward the cozy little PineBrews, the town's beloved cafe, a place that suddenly felt both familiar and heavy with memories. It was the first time I’d stepped foot here since my mom passed away, and right now, being here with Charlie, I felt a weight begin to lift—like a fragile ray of hope piercing through the darkness.
Minnie, the warm-hearted barista, took Charlie's order with her signature smile.
She turned towards me, “Your usual?” she asked.
Before I could answer, Charlie spoke. “Large caramel latte, extra whipped cream.” I looked at her.
“How did you—”
She shrugged as though the answer was obvious, “You like sweet things.”
I reached out, squeezing her hand with a silent gratitude that words couldn’t express.
We found a seat by the window, and as I looked out at the kids and parents marveling at the Halloween displays, a flood of emotions washed over me—bittersweet memories, longing, but also a flicker of something hopeful stirring deep within.
“Ugh, I still don’t have a costume,” I sighed as I took a sip of my coffee, my voice tinged with frustration.
Charlie’s face lit up with a mischievous smile. “I already got one,” she said softly.
“You got me a costume?” I teased, laughing as she pulled a bag from the mix of items we’d gotten.
She reached into the shopping bag and handed it to me, her eyes twinkling with excitement.
I eagerly untied the plastic, heart pounding with anticipation.
Inside was black cargo pants, fierce combat boots, a sleek black hoodie, and at the bottom—an intimidating gas mask with menacing red highlights.
My hands throbbed as I tugged the mask forward, a burst of laughter escaping me. “What the hell am I supposed to be?” I asked, voice muffled but full of wonder.
Charlie just shrugged, a grin spreading across her face. “Whatever scares people.”
Without hesitation, I pulled the mask over my face, feeling a strange thrill.
Charlie watched me intently as I looked outside at the town, which now shimmered in a strange, greyish hue, like someone had draped a film filter over my eyes.
My stare flicked back to her, and I saw that goofy, genuine smile on her lips—her eyes alive with mischief and kindness.
“I look like an arsonist,” I said, voice distorted and eerily hollow beneath the mask. A shiver of exhilaration ran through me as the sound changed—deep, ominous, and unsettling.
“Yeah,” Charlie nodded, taking a sip of her coffee. I started to take the mask off but she stopped my hand, “Leave it on.”
“Why?” I asked breathlessly.
Some of the old goons stared at me like I was crazy and I didn’t want to stand out or embarrass myself.
“You look beautiful,” Charlie smiled, bright against the fading daylight and in that moment, I knew this Halloween night would be unforgettable.