5. Romeo
Romeo
Hearing screams in the distance while walking through the foggy night had become my nightly routine, one where I could easily switch into High Jynx.
There were always different crowds of people: groups of friends, laughing and screaming; the older kids, clutching their parents’ arms but smiling and having a good time; the stray few who wore the “do not scare” necklaces of shame.
Then there were the groups of girls seeking out the thrills, loving it, then wanting selfies with the performers they thought were “hot.” I got quite a few of those requests, but I was more interested in popping out and scaring the ones who didn’t see it coming.
I liked the performance of it all—the excitement, the adrenaline.
I could see them from a mile away—a group of women, chatting and laughing.
They were too busy talking amongst themselves to see me hiding behind a post at the curve of the walkway, right next to the secluded wooded area that led to a few of the haunted houses.
I figured it would be an easy and fun scare—they seemed like the girls who checked the “seeking out the thrills” tab.
But before I could even brace myself, another performer popped out a few yards ahead of them, a scary “Terrifier” replica complete with the axe and all.
They all screamed and laughed. Great. Now I needed to wait for my next victim.
As I walked back to my hiding spot, I noticed a woman coming out from one of the haunted houses.
She was taking a deep breath, and she looked like she had just recovered from getting scared inside.
Perfect. She didn’t even see me running out of the fog, sprinting in her direction as I slid to my knees, growling out from the shadows and into her space.
She let out a blood-curdling scream, her feet moving faster than what her mind looked like it could handle, taking her in the opposite direction.
Right into the woods. Right into a ditch. Fuck.
“Shit, shit, shit,” I muttered to myself, sprinting to where she fell, sliding a little down a small slope.
“Hey!” I called out. “You okay?”
“Ew!” I heard her screech, and I finally got down to her, and I’d recognize her anywhere—Ivy Jade.
Gustav’s little sister, four or five years younger than us.
Except she wasn’t little anymore. She had those same stinging brown eyes I grew up with, undeniably large and shocked.
She lay motionless in a bush, her long brown hair pulled up in a red ribbon, her dress hitched up to her thigh from the tumble she took.
She looked so grown up.
And pissed off.
“Get away from me!” she cried out. She began to lift herself, but slipped again, falling straight on her ass.
“Hey, hey,” I said softly. “It’s okay. Let me help you,” I offered, holding my hand out palm up.
She looked up at me, then at my hand, then back up to me. Her widened, frightened eyes slowly turned suspicious.
“No, thanks. I’m perfectly capable, thank you very much,” she huffed, slowly rising to her feet. “Besides, your gloves look like they have dirt all over them. It’s gross”
“No different than your dress,” I quipped back.
“Actually very different!”
“How so?”
“Are your gloves designer? Because this dress is! It’s Persian, you clown!
” she gawked, looking down at the muddy mess that covered the most delicate cream colored fabric I’d ever seen.
I didn’t want to smile, but I did. She may have grown, but she was the same spoiled-sounding little brat that I’d spent summers listening to, arguing with Gustav.
"Suit yourself, Princess," I said, arching a brow.
"Excuse me?" she snipped. "Princess?"
I just shrugged—poor little rich girl. I was used to this by now with Megan, but I had a history with Ivy Jade, given how we grew up together. She didn't even seem to notice me yet, clueless as ever.
My eyes couldn’t help but trail up and down her body, still unable to wrap my mind around seeing her again.
She was so different from what I would’ve imagined, but then again, I never really imagined Ivy Jade as anything other than a little girl.
She used to have braces, and her face was round, like a cute little moon.
Now she looked like a diamond, something chiseled and refined, her cheekbones high and flushed, her lips soft and pouting.
It was strange, and I felt self-conscious as I unintentionally looked at her legs. There was a scrape along her knee.
“You took quite the fall,” I said with a hint of humor in my voice.
She scoffed a little, letting her eyes roam over me.
“Well, a scary, maniacal clown was chasing right after me! So thanks for that,” she said as she dusted herself off. “Ugh, my heel broke. Great, just what I needed tonight.”
I nodded, smiling a little bit. “I’m sorry. Really. I’d never want anyone to get hurt because of me,” I explained, and I kept eyeing her, wondering if, or ever, she would finally realize who I was.
She shrugged, straightening herself out a little bit. “Can we, like, get out of this ditch? It’s creeping me out!” She held out her hand daintily, as if I were supposed to take it and bow to her or something.
“Well?” she asked, her eyebrows raised expectantly, standing there unbalanced with a broken heel.
I chuckled a little. This girl had never done a thing for herself in a day in her life.
I took her hand and gently led her back up to the pavement.
She pulled her hand away, instantly adjusting her little cardigan sweater.
She rested her weight on the foot with the broken heel, and she swung her small purse over her shoulder as she ran a hand through the length of her hair.
“Let me take you to the first aid station to get you checked out. It’s just down this way,” I said, turning my body to lead the way. “And I’m sure there’s a pair of shoes we can find for you so you don’t fall into another ditch.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.” She hesitated, flipping her hair a little bit.
“You’re hurt, though.”
“I’ll survive…”
“I know you’ll survive; it’s not a fucking shark attack, but I can still help you.”
“I don’t trust clowns,” she said, giving me the most peculiar side-eye. When did she get so expressive, and when did her eyelashes get so fluttery and long?
“I’m not going to kidnap you if that's what you're worried about. They don’t pay me enough to do that here,” I said, sarcastically.
“Would they actually do that?” she asked with concern.
“No. There are no kidnapping clowns here. And if there were, I think you’d be too much for them to handle.”
“I’m just the right amount of woman to be handled, thank you very much!” she snipped, looking offended.
“Whatever you say, Princess…” I added, making her face bright red again. A group of monsters looked in our direction, then awkwardly turned away. I didn’t want to make a scene.
“Listen. I’ll be okay. I need to find my group. I’m sure they’re worried sick about me.”
Her group. I finally put it together. Shit, it was probably Gustav and the wedding party.
“I’m sure they’d be more concerned about your health,” I said with a smile. “Please? It looks like your knee is bleeding a little, and blood freaks me out,” I teased.
She furrowed her brows. “Blood freaks you out?”
I tilted my head, waiting for her to get the irony. After a moment, she rolled her eyes, but I could tell she was, if not a little, amused.
“Okay, whatever.”
“Okay,” I said with a nod, then looked down at her broken heel again before we started. “I can carry you if you want. It’s not too far away.”
I offered my hand again, expecting a princess like her to take me up on my offer. I couldn’t imagine she’d ever had a moment of hardship in her life.
She gave me a look of disbelief, as if that was the most absurd thing she’d heard in her life.
"I don't need your charity, clown. Just escort me!
And keep me safe from these creeps. Okay?
" she said, and I could tell a part of her was still totally freaked out.
I wasn't going to make it worse, though there was something oddly cute about her looking scared.
I shrugged a shoulder with a smirk. “Whatever you say.”
The first aid station was maybe a two-minute walk away, but I walked slowly alongside her.
And I was glad, because for some reason, I wanted to spend a little more time with her.
Maybe it was just curiosity, speaking to someone I knew who had no idea it was me.
Ivy Jade hated me her whole life, it seemed, and I wasn’t sure why.
Her brother and I were waaaaay different from her growing up, and maybe she just rejected the idea of us being different, as did her parents.
She was a certified spoiled, rich brat and constantly tattled on Gustav when we were in high school.
“So, you don’t seem like you belong in a place like this,” I said hesitantly, glancing over at her every few steps.
She huffed and shook her head. “I was forced to come to my brother’s wedding party activities. This is the last place I want to be, trust me,” she explained, cautiously eyeing our surroundings, clearly uneasy with all the scary shit around us.
“Well, it’s nice of you to come out for your brother,” I said, trying to gauge whether or not she was the same Ivy Jade as before.
She shrugged, fixing her purse over her shoulder. She glanced up at me, but quickly looked away. I was a tall guy, and even with the heels she had on earlier, she was at least six inches shorter than me.
“Yeah, for him and my best friend. She’s the bride,” she replied, giving the ground a reluctant smile.
Damn. Those braces she once wore really paid off. Her smile was cute… which was weird to say. Weird to think. And was she actually being nice to me? This is a good start.
I smiled back, but she didn’t look in my direction. “Yeah? That’s pretty cool—your brother and your best friend getting married.”
She rolled her eyes.