Twisted

I was so desperate to make this night happen, I took the school bus home. The underclassmen stared at me like I had lost my mind. I nearly told them I had an almost-date with Sean Caine (I’ll see you tonight, right?), but that would have tempted fate, so I just scowled at them instead.
I made it to my house at eight minutes to three. I had four hours before the bonfire started. Aaron had a game and Mom was shooting Labradors. Dad was the unpredictable one. I would make a preemptive strike.
The lawn hadn’t been moved since the Night of the Roast Pork Migraine, and it showed. In fact, our entire yard looked trashy. It wasn’t just the overgrown grass of the dying marigolds or the scraggly boxwood bushes. It was the gutters where rotting leaves had spilled onto last year’s broken Christmas lights, the paint flaking off the shutters, and the mailbox that tilted to the right.
I wouldn’t fix all of that now. I just had to mow the lawn and sweep the cut grass off the sidewalk. I accomplished both in record time. After I showered I wrote a note to Mom explaining that I was spending the night at Hardy’s. I took off before anyone got home.

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The Bulldog tradition of holding a bonfire before the Halloween football game used to be a big deal. They say you could see the smoke for miles, that kids would party like crazy in the fields behind the school, that there were rivers of beer and the occasional sacrifice of virgins. Then the lawyers got involved.
Now the whole thing was closely monitored by the fire department and the police. The bonfire itself was almost big enough to cook a couple of hamburgers on it. The fields had been plowed under and turned into McMansion developments. The Key Club sold cider and fresh donuts. The fear of litigation had turned a pagan rite of passage into a pathetic shadow of its former glory.
Some of the kids were wearing Halloween costumes, but most of us had winter jackets on. It felt cold enough to snow. I opened a twelve-pack of strawberry flavored gum. A few teachers mingled in the crowd, friendly-like, standing close enough to students to smell their breath and stare in their eyes. I chewed stick after stick and tossed the silver gum wrappers in the fire. The lights went on in the stadium and the marching band warmed up. The Key Club closed down the cider stand.
Sean and his friends finally arrived as the bonfire was dying down, and people were hustling from the parking lot to the stadium so they wouldn’t miss the kickoff. They were all wearing costumes, but Sean’s stood out the most- tattered, ripped, bloody jeans and jacket, with fake bones and body parts showing through the open parts of the jacket. His hair was back in a ponytail, and a skull mask covered the top half of his face, but still showed his eyes.
“Elise!”
He sprinted away from his friends and pulled me into a hug. He was warm and smelled faintly of musk and aftershave.
“Jesus, I’m so fucking sorry! Dean’s car got a flat tire and we had to call the insurance place or whatever the fuck to tell them so they could come and get it replaced, and that’s why I’m late. God, I fucked up big time. I’m sorry.”
I chuckled slightly, my cheeks pink. “Did you really miss me that much?”
He stared at me.
Somehow his hand slipped behind my head.
Somehow he bent his face down to mine.
Somehow my lips opened.
Somehow he kissed me and somehow I kissed back.
The bonfire roared and reached for the sky.