“You think I should go watch some stupid kiddie movie? I’m fifteen, Justin. God!”
She stormed off, and Mal and Jenna both looked at me with something like glee. “You really stepped in it that time,” Mal offered.
“Shut up,” I glowered, walking away from the pair of them. Date-ruiners. That’s what they were. Awful, selfish, date-ruiners.
When I went over to Malcolm’s house later that evening, Cole was perched on the front steps.
His hair was down in his eyes, and he looked like he’d worked himself up to an intense brood.
This could last for hours. Cole didn’t get into bad moods often, but when he did, it was always a struggle for the rest of us.
“Hey buddy, how’s it going?” I sat down next to him.
Cole snorted, looking at me from underneath his fringe. “Like you care. All you care about is
Ash now.”
Okay, wow. “That’s not true. C’mon, you know me better than that.”
“I thought I did,” he muttered. “All you care about is going out with her tonight.”
“That’s not all I care about.” How was I supposed to fix this before Cole went haywire and started goth-ing it up again? “Why don’t you come with us tonight? Bailey’s going with a group of friends. We could make a thing of it.”
Another snort. “Don’t worry, I’ve made actual friends here. You don’t have to pity me.”
“I don’t pity you,” I said slowly. “Where is all this coming from? This isn’t you, Cole.”
“How would you know?”
“Okay,” I said, trying another tactic. “Things have been weird since we got here. I get it. It hasn’t been like any of the other times. But that doesn’t mean I’m going anywhere.” I nudged his side. “You’re kind of stuck with us. We’re a package deal, remember.”
He leapt to his feet and stomped away without another word.
“Look at my babies, all grown up,” Mal said with a mock sniffle as we pulled up in front of the theater. It was at the same outdoor mall we’d gone to our first week in town, in the next city over from Carrow Mill. I let Bailey take the front seat, allowing me to lounge in the back and worry. What if I keep talking stupid? What if she thinks I’m boring and that’s why I wanted to go to a movie. What if she decides I’m lame?
I’d been fine up until this point with Ash. She was strange and bizarre and utterly fascinating, but I’d always thought I liked that. But now, ever since I’d used the D-word, it was like all I could do was panic. I second-guessed every conversation we’d ever had, overanalyzed every laugh and smile. She was friends with Maddy, and Maddy disliked me for obvious reasons.
What if that rubbed off on her?
I wiped my palms on my jeans for about the thousandth time, and swallowed my gum. What if my breath is awful? I pulled the pack of gum out of my pocket and slid another stick in my mouth.
“Is Cole going to be all right?” Bailey asked from the front.
“He’s going to be fine,” Mal assured her. “You know how he gets.”
“He hasn’t had much luck making friends,” she said, looking down at her hands. “I mean, Luca’s been cool, but I don’t think people here get Cole’s sense of humor.”
“He just takes a little bit to warm up to,” I said.
“Maybe,” she said. “But everyone’s been so busy, so he probably feels like you guys are all moving on, too.”
“No one’s going anywhere,” Mal insisted. “We’ve just been busy. And things have been a little crazy. They’ll settle down soon.”
“I hope so.” Bailey glanced back at me. “You can’t walk in with me.”
Mal reached back and grabbed my hand up in his. “But we want to introduce ourselves to your young gentleman.”
I snatched my hand back, laughing. “Speak for yourself. Go be someone else’s gay parent.”
“Just be careful, okay? Weird stuff’s been going on and all,” Mal said. We still hadn’t talked to
Cole or Bailey about what was going on. They only knew what we’d told them on the first week.
“We’ll be fine.” Part of the agreement with Quinn had been about an escort. Not just me being there to escort Bailey, but a Witcher escort. There were supposed to be two of them somewhere in the theater, just in case something happened.
We got out of the car and climbed up onto the sidewalk. It was only six, but the sun had already set. Luckily, the theater believed in a hefty light bill, because there were streetlights and blazing spotlights everywhere.
The window rolled down. “You have protection, just in case?” Mal called out, peeking his head out the window.
Bailey looked no more mortified than I did. But only barely.
She saw her friends and ran off, and I hovered near the doors for a few minutes, wishing I’d been smart enough to pick a better spot to wait at. But I didn’t have to wait long.
“Hey there, hot stuff. Don’t you look nice?” Ash appeared at my side, wrapped up in a black coat. Her hair was crimped and curled tonight, and the lights brought out all its different shades of red.
“Oh,” I said, looking down at myself. “Thanks. I mean, it was nothing.” Nothing for me at least. I’d made Mal pick me out something to wear, which he insisted was offensive and playing into stereotypes. But he did it, criticizing my taste as he went along.
“You had Malcolm dress you, didn’t you?”
I laughed. “That obvious?”
She shrugged. “It’s a gift. I admit I have a keen awareness when a boy suddenly develops a radical shift in style.” She linked her arm with mine and started pulling me towards the theater doors. “Plus, I might have texted him while you were, and this is a direct quote, ‘throwing the biggest fit he’s ever seen,’ about ironing your shirt.”
I … he … oh. Malcolm was so dead! “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to delete his number,” I managed. “Especially since I’m going to break his thumbs to make sure this doesn’t happen again.”
“Oh, it’s all in good fun,” Ash said. “Now open the door for me like a gentleman.” I did so, and she dipped her head as she swept past me. “Thank you, kind sir.”
The whole “Mal texting” scenario had me distracted, and I nearly walked straight into Santa
Claus. “What the—”
Ash returned to my side, slipping her gloved hand into mine. “Wicked, isn’t it?” she said in a breathless, excited voice.
“Wicked,” I agreed. This Santa was no ordinary Christmas elf. It was a life-sized mannequin, dressed up like one of the demonic Santas in the movie we were about to go see.
“I love when theaters do the cool promo stuff like this,” Ash said. “They’ve got Santas all over the place.” She tapped one—boop!—right on the nose.
I looked around the lobby. “This movie is really that big?”
“Of course. Christmastime plus horror? Every kid at school has probably gone to see this movie twice. The holidays make us all want to engage in a little patricide, don’t you think?”
“Wouldn’t know,” I said absently.
“Oh, shit, I forgot,” Ash said, ducking her head down. “Sorry,” she said quietly, squeezing my hand. Neither one of us said anything for a long moment, and the silence hung between us even in the noisy theater lobby. I didn’t know what to say to hijack the conversation away from my parents, and the dead elephant in the room.
We passed another pair of Santas on our way to the box office. I paid for our tickets, and we skipped the insane lines at the concession stand to head directly into our theater. It had been awhile since I’d been to a megaplex—the downside to small-town living was that the movie theaters usually only had one screen.
“Hold up,” I said, trying to pretend my brain hadn’t skipped on account of Moonset. Ash didn’t mean anything by it, I told myself. “I’m not supposed to walk in with her,” I said, nodding to