Chapter 23
TWENTY-THREE
RIGGS
It’s Halloween night, and my nerves are getting the best of me as I get dressed in my costume.
The team is getting ready at the basketball house and going to The Draft together.
The party is superhero-themed. We decided on Marvel, but I went off the beaten path a little, something to show Reagan that I know her.
I pull on a pair of black jeans, a white T-shirt, and a red leather jacket that is almost identical to the one worn in the movies. Thank you, internet. I even took it a step further and bought boots, a belt, and a Star-Lord mask.
Yeah, I am taking a risk, but I have a feeling that Reagan will appreciate it.
From what I know, Guardians of the Galaxy is her favorite Marvel franchise.
She always goes for a good romance, and Star-Lord and Gamora fit that bill.
I also know she has a huge crush on Chris Pratt, so it’s a win-win either way.
Jordan and the guys are also following suit with the Marvel hero theme.
As I walk down the stairs of the basketball house, I take everyone in.
Jordan is dressed like Captain America, and our captain looks like a genuine superhero.
Moore took Hawkeye, who is a little more reserved and quieter, so it makes sense he would pick him.
Carter is the Black Panther, and he went all out, wearing a leather suit and even claws.
The man has overused the privilege of “Wakanda Forever” a million times over.
“Where is Williams?” I look around the living room, and my teammates are all holding in a laugh. This has Carter Smith written all over it. “Carter, what did you do to Williams?”
Looking like I just slapped him, Carter places a hand on his chest. “Me? Why am I the one taking the blame?” He can’t keep a straight face either, and soon, he is doubled over, and it must be contagious. All the guys are rolling, so whatever he did must be bad.
“I’m not going in this.” I hear Williams just before I see him walk into the room, and I instantly get why everyone was laughing.
This giant, six-foot-ten man is wearing a Hulk costume.
It’s definitely a good personality fit, but it is too small.
Like, the pants are a good four inches above his ankles, not to mention how it fits in other areas.
I try my best, but I turn away from him, so he doesn’t see me crack a smile.
Jordan takes Williams in one more time before speaking. “Why is your costume so small, man?”
Glaring right at Carter, Williams explains, “Carter picked up my costume for me, but failed to mention they didn’t have my size…” At that, everyone starts laughing again.
Moore pipes in at this point. “I’ll tell you why he couldn’t go pick it up. Lindsey posted pictures of her costume, and the man basically came unglued.”
“Shut up, Moore,” Williams barks, and we all shut up. No one wants to mess with him when he gets pissed. Looking at Carter, Williams points at him. “This is all your fault. You’re going to help me fix it.”
Carter goes behind the couch and hands him a giant Hulk outfit in the correct size. Williams rips it out of his hands and stalks off to change. After he slams his door, every one of us is hysterical to the point of tears.
“Carter, man, you’re going to get punched one of these days,” Jordan tells our friend, who waves it off like Williams’s anger is nothing.
Once we are all dressed and ready, we hop in two cars and head toward The Draft. My nerves ramp up all over again, realizing I’m going to see Reagan soon.