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MEREDITH TAKES one look at me and bursts out laughing. "Oh, my God, what the fuck are you even supposed to be?"
We'd just finished the haunted hayride put on by a local theatre company (which Atlas got so terrified during, he ended up in my lap screeching for me to save him; but now, after the incident, he refuses to admit that it happened and goes on stubbornly refusing to talk to me) and found our way over to a bonfire they'd set up, and Meredith had finally gotten a chance to see my costume in all its beauty. Some people just don't know how to appreciate art as what it truly is: a raw and truthful ode to the human spirit.
I cross my arms over my chest and feign an expression of hurt. "I'm a sexy lobster, Meredith, stop making fun of me."
"What the fuck?" Meredith's dressed from the fifties in a pink poodle skirt, a black blouse, and white and black Oxford shoes. She even has her hair curled and pulled into a high side ponytail and fake sparkly grandma glasses. "Like, literally, how come nobody's killed your stupid ass yet? Where'd you even find that?"
"Don't be mean," Silas, who's dressed as Superman, complete with a cape and spandex, tells her.
Meredith promptly flips him off, and Silas sticks his tongue out at her in response.
I smile. "I know a guy."
"You know a guy that dabbles in sexy crustaceans?" Meredith puts a hand on her hip. "You know what, actually? Don't tell me. I don't want to know. You probably watch lobster porn in your free time."
Like Silas had, I stick my tongue out at her.
"Oh, my God, that's disgusting. Please never talk about that again. Also, keep it PG, guys," Silas chides us. "There are children here."
Atlas, who decided not to dress up and henceforth ruined all of our fun in his typical jeans and flannel and hoodie ensemble, agrees with him. "I'm one of them. Please stop. You're scaring me."
I'm reminded of some Halsey song, but I know that Meredith practically worships her, so I don't say anything, lest Meredith attacks me for bringing the actual love of her life into a conversation such as this.
"Your face scares me," Meredith cleverly retorts.
"Your face scares me," Atlas, an honors student, replies in a spot-on imitation of her voice.
"Fuck you." Meredith snorts. "I didn't come here to be disrespected like this."
In fact, the entire reason we'd came out here was for Meredith. To get her mind off of everything with her mom, we'd decided to do some fun, family-friendly fall activity. Silas suggested a corn maze; Atlas suggested a Halloween party; Meredith had been the one to suggest a haunted hayride; I'd suggested mass-murder. Considering that we were doing this for Meredith, we decided to go with her idea, although I think we were all leaning towards mine.
