Chapter 6

Within two minutes of our return home, Chris and Tyler have officially claimed me, turning their duo into a trio, so I begin the night on the couch, nestled between my two new idiots.

That, however, doesn't last very long at all.

At first, it's difficult to even tell what's going on with them talking over each other, but the moment the creepy witch spirit starts twisting peoples' heads backwards, I squeeze my way into Wilder's chair with a blanket pulled up to my eyeballs. He seems to be the only person in the room who isn't at least a little afraid, and I feel much safer now that I'm beside him.

"I see how it is." Tyler whisper yells from the couch.

After taming a bunch of wild children today, I shouldn't be afraid of anything, but my tough exterior has finally cracked. Honestly, I should be embarrassed for myself, but Chris is literally hiding behind Tyler, peeking over his shoulder cautiously.

"Well, I would have stayed if someone," I emphasize without pulling the blanket away from my face, looking directly at Chris and his sheepish smile, "wouldn't have pushed me towards the television every time that creepy woman pops out."

Chris attempts to muster some sort of defense, but the only real answer is that he's just as petrified as I am.

Wilder doesn't seem to mind at all, casually comfortable in our big chair with his arm around me protectively, and then that narcissistic son of a bitch has the audacity to look at me and softly chuckle to himself when it isn't even remotely funny. He's not even watching the movie at this point because he's too busy gazing down at me.

"You know, the movie might be a little more interesting if you would stop staring at me and actually watch it." I whisper, momentarily pulling the blanket away from my face, praying that nothing too crazy happens in the few seconds I'm exposed.

His lips graze my ear when he whispers back, "What if I find you more interesting than the movie?"

It only takes one rhetorical question for me to completely disregard the movie and everyone else in the room to refocus on him. His attention is back to the television, but now all of mine is fully concentrated on him.

My legs are thrown partially across his lap, and his hand that was gently resting near my knee has migrated a little higher than it was a few moments ago. I fight the urge to fidget when the realization of just how close we're sitting hits. The biggest distraction is the way he's slowly tracing lines up and down my arm with his other hand, giving me more chills than this horror movie ever could.

If Wilder has any inkling of his effect on me, he's a very good actor because his eyes never leave the TV, so I make it my new personal goal to finish this movie without any more distractions.

Well, other than hiding because of the freaky demon scaring the shit out of me, I guess. How long even are these stupid movies? It's been way past an hour or so, and no one else is left to die except two girls. Surely someone has to live.

Oop. Just kidding. Only one girl makes it out.

And cue end credits. Finally!

For the first time in my entire existence, I pride myself in being the first to speak, but the moment that movie ended was time to get all that creepy shit out of my head.

"I swear, if we don't watch something funny right now, I am not going to sleep at all tonight."

"Or what if we make brownies? I'm so fucking hungry." Chris pipes in just before hopping up to run towards the kitchen.

"At midnight?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"Ooh, and I can make—." Tyler shouts before following Chris.

I'm assuming Tyler is a terrible cook because everyone in the room yells, "No," before he can finish his sentence. Even Chris has stopped rummaging in the cabinet to make sure Tyler doesn't touch anything.

While everyone has informed me that Tyler is a terrible cook, I'm beginning to think that Chris, nor any of the other boys living in this apartment, should be allowed in the kitchen. I'm pretty sure I smell something burning, and the oven is hasn't even finished preheating yet. How is it possible to ruin an extremely simple boxed brownie mix? I think it's time for an intervention.

"Okay, lets see what we've got."

The inventory isn't too far above the typical twenty one year old guy's apartment—including the fact that there's more alcohol than anything else—but there's a few solid standard ingredients that I can definitely make work. Once I spot the leftover chocolate chips from their failed attempt to make brownies, some peanut butter, and sugar, it's very easy to talk them into homemade Reese's or what I like to call my mother's famous peanut butter balls.

It's simple, and the only heat it involves can be done in a microwave. While the other two members of my trio are rolling the mixture into little spheres, the rest of us are dipping them into melted chocolate.

Everything seems to be going smoothly until a devious little idea pops into my head.

One small drip of chocolate on Chris's nose, and I've accidentally started a war in the kitchen. Before I can even think of my next move, I take off running as he chases me around the island countertop. It's become a free-for-all with everyone, except Wilder, trying to help him enact his revenge.

That is until Wilder is recruited when I run a finger full of chocolate across his bottom lip and chin.

"Fuck you, bitch!" He yells with a shocked smile on his face, surprised at my cruel act against him.

"Suck my dick, Wilder."

"You're literally the only person here without one."

"Mmm. That's a shame because mine would definitely be bigger than yours."

As if it wasn't already a mortal combat zone, that moment is when all hell breaks loose, and I'm not even sure if our little snack will survive, especially with Wilder chasing me around the kitchen with Chris and Tyler on his heels.

I come out nearly unscathed until a whole handprint of sweet ooze is smothered across my face. After a moment of temporary blindness, I wipe away enough chocolate to see clearly, and I'm greeted with a very smug Wilder. I knew what I was getting into by bringing him into this, but I did not know I was going to be wearing chocolate as mascara, foundation, and lipstick.

My tongue darts out to clean some of the sweet, creamy chocolate off of my lips. I guess revenge really is sweet.

Sweet enough to get me five of the craziest new friends a girl could ask for in a little over a week. I must be sweet enough for them, too, because they want me to come chill next weekend, but I'm more excited about their promise to take me exploring around LA sometime soon.