Chapter 3
3
SHILOH
I trudge back home with a stomach full of leaden disappointment. The crisp fall air does absolutely nothing to cool my burning rage as I kick at fallen leaves with every step.
Who the fuck does he think he is? That condescending asshole!
My focus is so intent on scorching the sidewalk with my glare, I almost bump into a lamppost when my phone suddenly starts buzzing in my pocket. I pull it out, more than ready to hit ignore on whoever dares interrupt my tantrum. But the moment I see the caller ID, I swipe to answer with a defeated sigh.
“Hey, Grey. Happy Saturday.”
“Well, damn,” my friend and fellow teacher, Greyson, chuckles through the speaker. “Who shit in your cornflakes this morning? Unlike you to be in such a rotten mood.”
“A ghost of dismal Halloween's past,” I grumble, still clueless as to what magical revelation I’m supposed to have in order to save that of the present. “Would you believe me if I said yesterday’s meeting with Avalon’s most entitled bitch wasn’t actually the worst encounter of my weekend so far?”
“ Jeez , I didn’t think there was anyone in town capable of outdoing Melanie on that front. What happened?”
“I don’t even know where to start, but at this rate, my head might explode before Monday rolls around.”
Greyson laughs again, the deep boom of it bouncing around my skull and helping to drown out the echoes of Dominic’s cutting remarks. “As it happens, you little drama gremlin, I was calling to ask if you wanna head to The Cauldron tonight? You sound like you're in need of a stiff drink.”
I hesitate, my plans before answering the call having been to stomp home and wallow by myself. However, a night of drinking and dancing with my friends at my favorite spooky-themed tavern might be just what I need to convince myself that life here in Avalon isn’t as depressing as my snobby stepbrother seems to think it is.
“Yeah,” I finally answer. “Sounds like a plan. Who else is coming? Did you text the group chat?”
“Oh, um, no not yet. You’re the only person I’ve asked. I’ll, uh, drop a line in there now.” Greyson’s slightly reluctant response has me raising an eyebrow, though I know he can’t see it. I choose not to question him, my thoughts wandering instead through a number of outfit choices I’ll need to narrow down once I make it home.
“Cool, I’ll see you there then. Laters, Grey.” I hang up before anything grows awkward.
Several hours and one meager PB&J later, I’m pushing through the heavy oak door of The Cauldron, a mechanical witch’s cackle greeting my arrival. I’m immediately enveloped by the familiar warmth of the old place, soothing the gooseflesh that pebbles beneath my fishnets from the late September chill outside. An easy grin spreads across my cheeks as I seek out my friends in the crowd of costumed patrons and masked staff carrying trays of smoking cocktails.
Coming here will always make any crappy day feel better.
I spot Greyson’s towering figure at a table in the corner with several members of our Avalon High group chat, a motley crew of would-be loners who have very little in common beyond our workplace but love each other all the same. This is something Dominic will never understand–the quiet comfort of being surrounded by people who appreciate our cozy, ‘worthless smudge on the map’ as much as I do.
“Shiloh, you made it!” Greyson pulls me in for a one-armed hug. “Jemma was just filling us in on your sponsor issue, no wonder you sounded so grumpy on the phone!”
“Ugh, don’t remind me, please,” I answer with a grimace. “My plan tonight is to get drunk enough that I stop thinking about the disaster of it all.”
“I figure the call with your brother didn’t go so well then?” Jemma asks, worriedly eyeing me over the top of a goblet of red wine.
“My stepbrother , thank you very much. I don’t share blood with that demon. And no, you could say it went about as well as if I had asked him to dress up as a cockerel and nail himself to my roof.”
Greyson cringes and sucks air through his teeth with a pained hiss. “Sounds like a jolly family reunion. Let me get you a pint,” he offers, patting me on the back before weaving his way to the bar. I smooth out my black skirt and matching crop top as he walks away, pleasantly surprised with how well my look came together.
“Well, I guess it’s back to the drawing board then,” Jemma mumbles, staring into her drink. “Should have known we shouldn’t get our hopes up for a knight in tailored Tom Ford.”
I laugh loudly despite the general gloom of it all, winding my arm around Jemma as she huffs her own muted giggle. Our timid librarian has never met Dominic, having moved to town years after he’d left for New York, but she’s hit the nail on the head with that apt description. No doubt she’s picturing her own corporate tormentor when she envisions a villain in a suit. The oldest of our group at thirty-nine, Jemma moved to Avalon five years ago after a messy divorce from a tax accountant, cheating bastard. As far as any of us know, she’s sworn off men for good in favor of books and quiet solitude.
A cause I can get behind, that’s for sure.
“Honestly Jem, if I were to describe Dominic as a knight, he’d have to be one of the Knights Templar. You know, rich and self-righteous and crusading through town just to leave a bloody mess in his wake.” I squeeze her shoulder as the rest of our group chuckles at my dark joke.
“Wait, I thought he hadn’t been in town for more than a decade?” Luke asks, the beefy gym teacher nursing his own pint.
“Oh yeah, get this,” I start, shaking my head. “He slammed me with a resounding ‘fuck off’ over the phone last night, and then drove more than two hours this morning just to do it all over again in person. I mean what a psycho , am I right?” I feel royally vindicated as I’m met with incredulous stares from each of my friends in turn. Even people who didn’t grow up with Dominic as a constant shadow in their home can agree he’s a raging jerk.
“I don’t get it. What possible reason could he have for being such an asshole to his own family?” Ruby pipes up. My fellow English teacher is the newest addition to our ranks, having only started at the school at the beginning of this semester. The closest to my age, and obviously sharing the fierce passion Jemma and I have for literature, Ruby is someone I hope to become good friends with in time. I can’t say I ever had a best friend growing up. These days the closest I have are Greyson and Luke, but they have their own bromance going on that I never feel fully a part of.
“Oh, honey, let me debrief you on the drama as succinctly as possible. Basically, Dominic’s mom cheated on his rich and successful father with my poor and lowly mechanic dad, and then forced him to move here to this middle-of-nowhere town when he was twelve. He’s never forgiven her for it and has hated everyone and everything in this place ever since, including me.”
“ Yikes , that’s a messy story,” Ruby says with a wry smile. “But still, it’s not like any of it was your fault. Why would Dominic bear such a grudge against you that he’d go to the effort of driving all the way here just to upset you ? ”
“Eh, he’s just a miserable grouch and always has been. He gets off on inflicting suffering,” I answer with a dismissive wave of my hand. “I don’t know if it’s because I came as an unwelcome package deal with my dad when our parents got married, or because he hates all women, or because he’s just the spawn of Satan–but I endured a peachy four years of constant torture before he moved back to New York and left us all in peace.”
“And good riddance!” Greyson toasts from behind me, placing down a pint of my favorite rich stout. I can’t count the number of hours we’ve spent bonding over childhood trauma since Greyson fled his own screwed-up family to find some quiet relief in Avalon. I guess most of my fellow townsfolk who didn’t grow up here settled in our little patch of nowhere precisely because it was such a stark contrast to whatever chaos they needed to escape elsewhere.
“Here, here!” I raise my drink to my lips and take a long pull of the dark ale. “If it’s alright with everyone else, I’d like to pretend none of it ever happened for the rest of the evening.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Ruby chimes in, raising her brightly colored cocktail. “Come on, Shy, let’s go dance. You’re in need of distraction.”
The DJ puts on an upbeat remix of Thriller and suddenly I’m being pulled through a writhing mass of sweaty bodies and into the middle of the dance floor. I laugh and sway with the rest of them, eagerly accepting several more drinks as my friends band together to take my mind off Dominic’s assholery and the looming peril of our beloved Halloween Ball.
By the time it’s my turn to get the next round, I’m tripping over my own feet a little as I make my way to the bar. Strong hands steady me and I look up to see Greyson’s flushed cheeks spread in an amused grin. “You okay?” he yells over the music.
“Never better!” I answer, an almost maniacal giggle bubbling up from my throat.
I continue pushing through the crowd, Greyson’s hand a steady warmth on my back as he supervises my mission to stay upright. The coolness of the polished wooden bar feels wonderful against the blazing heat of my skin, and I have to resist the urge to lay my cheek on it while we wait for a bartender’s attention.
“So,” Greyson starts, after I’ve bellowed our drinks order over the pulsing beat. “Any ideas for an alternate sponsor?”
I groan, pinching the bridge of my nose between my fingers and thumb. “Can we not talk about it right now? I told you I wanted to not think for one evening.”
“Sorry, sorry,” he hurriedly responds, holding up his hands like I’ve raised a weapon in his direction. “I just hate seeing you miserable. You know I’m always here if you need anything, right?”
I lift my head, offering him a grateful smile. “I know. You’re a good friend, Grey. Maybe I’ll bounce some ideas off you next week if you have the time.” I twist back to the bar, pulling out my card to pay for our drinks, suddenly very aware of Greyson’s hand still resting on the small of my back. Before I can open my mouth to question him on it, a masked server appears to our side, depositing a fully laden tray of empty glasses on the bar.
Time seems to slow as the precarious cargo nudges the fresh pint sat in front of Greyson, tipping it sideways until the glass topples over completely. I leap out of the way with a yelp, narrowly avoiding the spray of frothy lager. Greyson isn’t so lucky as he reflexively snaps his hand out to catch the glass before it rolls to the floor. The narrow save leaves him right in the splash zone.
“Damn, sorry, dude,” the server mumbles from behind his zombie mask. “Let me get you a rag or something.”
Greyson can only gape at the dark wet patch that’s seeping into his crotch before snapping his gaze up to see the server disappearing into the crowd. Try as I might, I can’t hold back the snorting cackle that bursts from my lips at his baffled expression, not to mention the sorry state of his pants.
“Oh, you think this is funny, do you?” he demands, trying to maintain a stern expression but failing miserably as he huffs his own embarrassed laugh. He shakes his head. “Well, I’m glad my misfortune entertains you.”
“Aw, sorry, Grey. Let me get you another drink.” I bite my lip to stifle another bout of giggles.
“Nah, don’t worry about it. I think I’m gonna call it a night, wet jeans are the worst.” He sighs, looking down again at his soaked crotch before turning to presumably seek out the vanished server. “Get home safe, okay?”
“Will do,” I chirp, giving him an awkward hug while trying to avoid any of the mess seeping into my own clothes. As I watch him leave, I realize the room is starting to spin, the masked faces of staff and patrons alike blurring into a nightmarish kaleidoscope. If I were being smart right now, I’d leave too. But fuck being smart, I figure I have space for at least another two pints before I stumble home. Well, I’ll have that room, right after I empty my straining bladder.
I holler at Luke to come and relieve me of everyone else’s drinks and then clumsily maneuver my way through the dancing masses and towards the restroom. The night is still young, and I’m not yet drunk enough to completely wipe Dominic’s smirking face from my mind.