The four of them leave and, as they do, Tim shrugs in my direction.
Marcus and Bo know better than to ask me what’s going on.
Marcus spends his break in the parking lot as he travels from trunk to trunk with a paper Harpy’s bag.
“Like the feather,” says Bo from the kitchen as he points to my hair.
I forgot I was wearing this thing. All I’ve been able to think about is Ellen. I can’t believe that happened. This part of me kept holding on to the hope that we would break the silence somehow—and it would be fine. But it’s not. I touch my hand to the feather, letting the edges tickle my fingertips. “Yeah. Thanks.”
“I’m glad you’re back.”
I nod. I’m glad I am, too. This little grease hut feels like a slice of normal. And so does he. I wish that wasn’t true, but it is.
He pulls the conductor hat off and repositions it on his head. “And I’m sorry you felt the need to leave.”
“It’s okay.” I stack and restack the same pile of to-go bags before asking, “Are you missing Holy Cross?”
He smirks. “I actually miss my uniform.”
“What? Why?”
“I don’t know. It’s kind of nice to not have to think about clothes in the morning.” He brushes his thumb along his lower lip. “I guess you could say I’m not a morning person.” Hearing him talk this much after two months of silence is like a downpour after a drought.
“And then my brother hates it.” He chews the skin around his thumb for a second before adding, “But it’s my fault we had to leave HC.”
I’m about to ask him why, when Marcus walks back in. “Y’all, those moms are not foolin’ with that candy.”
Heat spreads to my cheeks, like we’ve been caught making out.
At the end of the night, we all walk out together, the two of them laughing about Ron’s Zorro costume. Bo still wears the conductor hat, and I can’t even look at him without smiling like a total idiot.
Outside, Mitch is leaning up against my car.
It’s horrible of me, but I resent him being here. I’m like one of those people who doesn’t like for their food to touch. I need for Mitch to stay on his side of the plate.
“Hey,” I say to Marcus and Bo. “I’ll see y’all later.” I turn to Mitch. It might be physically impossible, but I feel Bo’s eyes on my back like a weight. “Um, hi? Nice costume.”
Mitch is dressed like Indiana Jones in khaki pants and a bomber jacket with a wide brim hat. “It’s Saturday night,” he says. “It’s Halloween.”
I laugh. “Which basically means I want to go home.”
He shakes his head. “Nope. Not happening. I’m going to show you why Halloween is awesome. Let’s go. Get in.”
“I don’t have a costume.”
He shrugs. “You’re a fast-food employee. Or a candy striper.”
My feelings for him swing from hot to cold and back. I don’t want him here. I want him here. He’s crowding me. He’s not close enough. I feel a smile flicker on my lips. “Okay. Prove me wrong.”
FORTY-TWO
In the car, I text my mom to let her know I’ll be home a little late, but there’s another message waiting for me.
BO: glad you’re back.
I bite in on my lips, making them disappear, and drop my phone into the cup holder.
Mitch drives us to Stonebridge, the richest neighborhood in Clover City. I guess maybe it’s not rich by normal standards, but it was built in the last ten years and it’s gated. The gates are always open, but whatever.
After parking on a random street, he tosses me a pillowcase.
“Wait. We can’t go trick-or-treating this late.”
“It’s not that late.”
“It’s past midnight.”
“Well, we are.” Mitch doubles back. “Forgot something.” He runs back to his car and comes back with a brown whip twisted around his fist.
“Are you shitting me with that thing?”