We stood side by side, making funny hug poses in our peanut butter and jelly costumes as Mrs. Jefferson looked on with a critical eye. Ceecee and I had spent an hour debating between the peanut butter and jelly combo or going as a Pirate of the Caribbean and his parrot. I preferred the pirate costumes, they looked edgier. Ceecee on the other hand hated how she looked in hers. She insisted it made her feel like a man, and instead wanted something more, in her words, "edible." I rolled my eyes at this . Now, we were dragging her mom into the room to settle the debate.
Mrs. Jefferson, a warm, curvy Mexican woman with full black curly hair and an accent that reminded me of Sofia Vergara the Colombian actress and tv star, welcomed us with a wide smile, her son Jason balanced on her hip. From the moment I'd first met her, she had treated me like her own daughter, and out of everyone I knew, she had the most motherly instinct. She inspected us one last time, squinting as if the decision weighed heavily on her.
"I'm going to need you both to face each other and hold hands," she finally said. We glanced at each other and did as told, trying not to laugh. "This is a tough one, a real tough one. But there must be a winner, and a loser." Mrs. Jefferson paused dramatically, taking a deep breath. "And the winner is… the pirate and parrot!"
I squealed in victory, clapping my hands and shimmying in a little dance. Ceecee feigned heartbreak, covering her face with mock sobs. Mrs. Jefferson laughed, a full-bodied sound that filled the room. "I have to finish dinner and get the candy ready for the trick-or-treaters," she said as she headed back to the kitchen.
By the time we checked the clock, it was already 9 p.m., half an hour past the start time for the party. But we knew no one ever showed up on time, so we didn't rush. We took our time getting ready, takinh selfies for Snapchat and laughing at how ridiculous we looked. I used to be active on social media, but ever since moving to Chicago, I had lost interest in keeping up my accounts.
When we finally descended the stairs, we were greeted by cheers from Ceecee's grandmother and her ever-smiling mother. Her dad, a sales manager at the local mall, wasn't home—he always worked Halloween night. We bowed in response to their applause, and Ceecee kissed her little brother goodbye, promising to be home before midnight.
We grabbed a cab and headed toward the address Tennyson had texted me earlier. It was a 20-minute drive, but it felt like forever as Ceecee couldn't stop squealing with excitement. "Can you believe it?" she chattered, "This is my first party since we moved here!"
I laughed but didn't respond, instead gazing out the window at the bustling streets filled with trick-or-treaters darting between houses. Halloween decorations adorned every home, with each display seeming to outdo the last. But my thoughts drifted back to the night ahead. What would happen? What surprises were waiting for us?
Finally, the cab pulled up in front of a mansion that seemed straight out of a movie. I checked my phone to make sure we had the right address. Yep, this was it. I paid the driver, grabbed Ceecee's hand, as we both stepped out of the cab. We paused in front of the massive gate, staring up at the mansion.
It was breathtaking. The brick façade and arched windows gave it an elegant, refined look. A sweeping driveway curved through perfectly manicured lawns and hedges. Cozy outdoor spaces hinted at quiet family gatherings, while the cool blue and red LED lights danced across the building like a choreographed performance. But what truly made my jaw drop were the Halloween decorations.
The mansion had been transformed into a haunted wonderland. Fog crept across the glowing front yard, which was guarded by towering animatronic skeletons. Flickering lanterns lined the path to the door, casting eerie shadows. Life-sized ghosts floated through twisted, blackened trees, and a massive spider crawled across the roof. The sound effects—groans, whispers, chains rattling—were chilling. Blood-red lights bathed the mansion in an otherworldly glow, making the whole place feel like a portal to another dimension.
Ceecee, who was usually always yapping was awfully quiet , obviously awestruck. Her eyes looked like they would bulge out of their sockets anytime from now and I couldn't help but laugh at her exaggerated expression.
We made our way to the front door, where two heavyset bouncers stood guard. Tennyson had sent a code earlier, which I relayed to them, and they nodded, allowing us to step inside.
The interior of the mansion was just as impressive as the outside. The ceilings were impossibly high, and a grand staircase curved elegantly toward the second floor. Marble floors gleamed beneath the warm lighting, and every piece of furniture looked too expensive to touch. As we walked through the empty hall, I could hear the thumping bass of the party outside and see flashes of movement through the large windows.
We quickly made our way outside to the backyard, where the party was in full swing. The centerpiece was a massive pool, surrounded by people in colorful costumes, dancing and laughing. The atmosphere buzzed with energy. I spotted a few familiar faces from my classes, but most of the racers were in senior year. My eyes scanned the crowd until they landed on Dixie, seated on a guy's lap. I couldn't see him clearly, but I knew it was Steve, her boyfriend. Dixie sneered at me, turning away in disgust. I silently prayed she wouldn't cause me any trouble tonight.
Ceecee leaned in, whispering that we should get a drink and blend in with the crowd. I nodded, telling her to wait for me by the lounge area while I ventured through the sea of costumed teens.
As I navigated the crowd, my thoughts wandered. Where was Tennyson? Would I get a chance to talk to him? Distracted, I accidentally stepped on someone's foot.
"Ugh! You idiot! I just did my nails!" I voice angrily complained Before I could apologize, a shove sent me stumbling backward. I was so close to the pool that the push sent me teetering at the edge. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing myself for the inevitable splash—until a strong pair of arms caught me.
I opened my eyes, and there they were ;deep hazel eyes staring right into mine. The kind of eyes that belonged to only one person.