Under the Influence

Chapter Seven: Nights Before and Mornings After

Even though Halloween was still weeks away, it seemed as though the whole town was already prepared for the festive occasion. Decorations were set up in front of almost every house I passed by, varying from jack-o-lanterns to Styrofoam tombstones (I wondered how they didn’t blow away in the wind) and everything in between. Scott and I hadn’t adorned our house yet, which made it appear bare and boring in comparison to some of these beautifully furnished homes that managed to scare and amaze me at the same time.

   Every year, Scott and I always decorated the front of our house (and sometimes the lawn, too) so extravagantly in an unrequited attempt to one-up the neighbours. Though, our neighbours never really knew we were trying to outdo them with the decorations; they probably thought that we were just getting into the Halloween spirit.

   Another tradition we had for Halloween was throwing a party at Crawford Comics. It was originally my dad’s idea, but once he passed away, Scott and I decided to continue on with it. It was one of the ways we preserved his memory (Mom’s too, since she was usually the one who planned and set up the parties, and co-hosted them). People were allowed—encouraged, really—to show up in costume if they pleased. We supplied refreshments, music, and snacks, and held a contest to award the person with the best or most creative costume. The winner received a free action figure, or whatever else we happened to have.

   Scott always insisted we throw the party a day before Halloween because for some unknown reason, he actually enjoyed handing out candy to kids. In costume, of course (Scott, I mean). And he never really cared how late they came since he was awake most of the time anyways.

   The leaves crunched under my shoe with every step I took, and the chilly air—cool and crisp—made me shiver and shove my hands even deeper into the pockets of my sweater, trying (and failing miserably) to keep warm. Thankfully, the library was only a few minutes away; I could already see the big brick building at the end of the street. I sped up my pace to a speed-walk.

   As soon as I entered the library, I sighed contently as warm air met my cold skin. I made my way past shelves upon shelves of books until I reached the section of the library that was reserved for computers and tables. I took a seat at the table I met Hunter at last time we had a tutoring session, unsurprised to find it completely unoccupied. I always arrived promptly on time, and Hunter (most of the time) was expectedly late. It didn’t bother me since I was used to disorganized people—it was a perfect word to describe my brother.

   A few moments later, just as I was getting a head start on my math homework, someone plopped down onto the chair across from me with a half-grunt half-sigh sound, and I knew that it was Hunter before I even looked up.

   “Ready to do some work?”

   “I don’t wanna do any work,” he grumbled. “I’m tired and pissed off and unfinished homework is the least of my worries right now.” He was the only person I knew who could sound so irritated even though he kept yawning at least a few times during each sentence. Well, besides Scott, of course.

   Then I finally glanced up. Whoa. He looked almost as bad as Scott, if not worse. At least Scott combed his hair so it didn’t look like a rat lived on top of his head. Hunter appeared as though he hadn’t slept at all last night. Homework could wait; I deemed this situation way more important, whatever this situation happened to be, exactly.

   “Are you okay?” I asked. “What happened to you?”

   “My sister happened to me.”

   “I meant specifically,” I clarified.

   “Didn’t sleep at all last night,” Hunter mumbled. He rested his arm on the table and then buried his face in the crook of his elbow. Jeez, how many restless people did I have to deal with every day? It was a wonder how I got any sleep sometimes.