Hahahahahahaha... I fell behind on my second week... this is going to be such a successful challenge :)
Really, though, I was SUPER busy last week and I've been writing bits and pieces of this at night. With one-shots like this, it's hard to find a good plot arc because you can't change the relationship too drastically. Anyway, here is "Haunted House", in which a headstrong girl (Kasey) accidentally punches her crush (Ethan) in the face at a haunted house.
Prompt: "You work in a haunted house and I accidentally punched you in the face when you scared me."
———
Lame, lame, lame.
That was my only thought as I navigated pools of blood, spooky hallways, and dodged skeletons with chainsaws.
I had a good reason though. The blood was fake and the consistency of cranberry juice. The spooky hallways were just corridors in a church basement with the lights turned out. It still smelt like last Sunday's coffee break, and the neon exit signs dotting the walls now and again were really ruining the spooky vibes. As for the skeletons with chainsaws? They were just nine-year-old kids in cheap costumes wielding cardboard saws.
Yep. Cardboard.
Officially the least scary haunted house on the face of the Earth. I mean, to be fair, it was a church-sponsored event. Still, far more effort could have gone into the execution—no pun intended—of the event.
I strolled past a decapitated head on a plate without blinking. Classic hole-in-the-table trick. A toy spider dropped from a pulley and I batted it away tiredly. It took all my energy not to yawn.
Finally, FINALLY, I made it to the end of the haunted house. I climbed the stairs, ducking under the fake cobwebs. What a waste of five bucks! At least it was for a church fundraiser...
I stepped out the back door. The church backed onto a small thicket of forest, and I groaned as I realized I'd have to navigate through the woods in the dark. There was a clear path, where someone had generously installed a single string of white Christmas lights to guide a haunted house guest back to the Halloween festival on Main Street.
Yes, I said Main Street. It's a small town, so we have one of those.
I looked down at the ground, where my dusty Converse were following the trail. The wind whistled in the trees in a way that was definitely-not-at-all-frightening on a Halloween night. I don't get scared, you see. Yes, the annual Baptist Church haunted house was lame, but I always thought I'd be able to handle a scarier one, or—truthfully—an actual Halloween Apocalypse with real ghosts and vampires. But as I walked that perfectly safe and totally familiar path that night, something felt off.
Was it the owl sitting motionless in the tree? Was it the actual spiderwebs between the branches? Perhaps it was just the wind. I began to calm down, when it happened.
Movement in the bushes.
Arms on my shoulders.
Hot breath on my neck.
A terrifying howl.
Had I manifested a Halloween apocalypse just by thinking about it? There was no time to wonder. My reflexes, whip-quick from 2 years of karate at the small dojo in town, kicked in and I whirled around.
Kick to the shins.
Knee to the groin.
Punch smack-dab in the middle of the face.
I leapt back a couple yards and held out my arms defensively. I fumbled for my phone flashlight to try and find out what my attacker was. You know, so I'd be able to plan my defense. If it was a vampire, I decided I would grab a fallen branch and stab it in the heart. If it was a werewolf, I'd offer the dog biscuit in my pocket as a peace offering. If it was a mummy, I'd karate chop until it fell apart.
But it wasn't a vampire. Or a werewolf. Or even a mummy. Nope, it was much worse.
My attacker was a high school jock, of the Ethan Willis variety. Tall, with dark hair just the right length. Brown eyes. Zombie makeup. Tattered costume. And a bloody nose.
"Ethan?" I asked, covering my mouth. I already knew it was him, so there was no point in asking.
"Kasey?" Ethan replied, cupping his nose and wincing in pain.
"I am so, SO, sorry!" I began. The words shot out of me, rapid fire. "I was coming outside and I thought you were a vampire and I was going to have to impale you with a tree branch, or offer you a biscuit, or—
"That was a wicked punch. You must have a great martial arts teacher," he joked.
Oh, right, forgot to mention: besides being captain of every sport from track to water polo, Ethan Willis was also my assistant karate sensei.
And before you ask, no. I definitely did not sign up for his martial arts class when we were in freshman year just to be able to see him every Tuesday evening. I totally didn't suffer through my White Belt program with a bunch of literal five-year-olds just to see Ethan in his karate gi demonstrating the straight punch and holding my arms in proper form.
Why would I ever do that?
Okay, well, maybe there was a BIT of strategizing on my part before signing up, but I really took up self-defense to learn how to defend myself. Mostly against robbers and thugs (though really, it was a small town, who was I kidding?) but when the opportunity called for it... against zombie-vampires who were actually my crush/karate teacher in sickeningly realistic zombie-vampire clothing.
Wait a second...
"Are you a part of the haunted house?" I asked.
"Yeah," Ethan said sheepishly. "I—um, it was supposed to be this big thing? After the Sunday School's completely un-scary haunted house, me and a few other guys were assigned to catch the guests off guard with an actually-scary haunted forest."
I swear that I turned redder than the (hopefully fake) blood on Ethan's costume.
"Well, it worked, at least?" I grinned, trying to lighten the mood. He didn't catch the joke. "I mean, you sure caught me off guard."
"Oh. Yeah. Right," he replied, fighting back a smile in that way that he does.
Okay. Maybe it's just me, but when Ethan smiles, it always looks like he's putting a lot of effort into hiding it. But even half-hidden, it makes me want to melt into the floor. You have not known agony until Ethan Willis is a foot away from you in karate class, trying not to laugh as you splinter yourself with a chopped board. I'm positive that if I ever see Ethan's full-power smile, it'll knock me out for a good ten years.
Anyway, the awkward staring went on for a little while longer. After a few moments, my brain finally turned back into coherent muscle matter and I realized that he was injured.
"Oh! Oh my God. I'm so sorry," I said. "Is there anything I can do?"
"For my nose?"
"Well, yeah," I said. "I mean, I pretty much broke it..."
Ethan laughed. "Kasey, I mean this in the nicest way, but you didn't break my nose."
"I—but it's bleeding?"
"Yeah. I'm used to it. You might be exceptional at kicks, but your punches could use some work. My nose might be bruised, or it could just be bleeding from your nails or bracelet. Next time, push your palm up as you strike. It'll push the nose back towards the brain and cause more damage."
I almost died of embarrassment right there. I mean, okay, I was glad that I didn't brutally injure him, but he'd turned that awkward confrontation into a teachable moment for karate techniques? I couldn't even deal with how much of a karate nerd he was.
"Well, I'm sorry I don't punch hard enough," was all I could think of to say. "And... you intend on there being a next time?"
"I sincerely hope not," Ethan replied.
"Me too."
We stood in silence. Real blood mixed with fake blood on Ethan's costume. He winced, so slightly that I almost didn't see it.
"Listen, man," I said. "Are you absolutely sure you're okay? Because I could go get ice or something..."
"I'm fine," he told me. "Honestly. I think I'll just..."
He fell down to his knees, and for a moment I thought it was part of the haunted-house dramatics. I rushed over to his side.
"Um, you don't look okay," I told him. "Let's go get some ice."
I had to practically drag him out of the woods. He protested like a baby.
"I'm... fine..." he told me, over and over as the blood ran down his face.
"You're not. Excuse me, medic?" I approached the tent where the paramedics were. There tends to be a lot of injuries on Halloween night, so they set themselves up near the festival.
"Yes?" The girl working there was barely older than me, maybe a college student. She had blonde curls and wore a heavy jacket.
"Um, so, I punched him in the face?" I explained, realizing how stupid I sounded. "He says he's fine, but—"
The medic stared at me. "I'm sorry, you punched him in the face?"
"Yeah, it was an accident. Can you check it out."
Looking incredibly concerned, the medic sat Ethan down on a fold-up cot. I waited in the tent doorway as she examined him.
"So, it's actually severely broken," the medic told us. "I'm going to need to apply a splint and get a doctor to check it out."
"Are you serious?" I looked back and forth between the medic and him. "Ethan, you said it wasn't bad?"
He turned away and didn't look at me. I sighed and turned to the medic. "I'll find his parents. Come on, let's go."
Ethan reluctantly followed me out, gauze over his face.
"What the heck, man?" I asked. "You could have told me you were in pain. Avoided an awkward conversation in the woods, at least."
I swear he turned redder than the blood on his costume at that. "Um, well," he said, muffled from his splint. "I didn't want you to think I was weak. Or make you feel bad. Or run away when we were talking."
"Why do you care?" The question comes out of my mouth before I can stop it. I mean, with all his fame and glory, why did he even worry about me at all?
"I... just do care," Ethan said simply. Realizing that his answer was too vague for me, he continued. "I care about the girl who can barely crack through the 12mm board because her arms are so wild. I care about the girl who pretends not to enjoy watching football, but attends every game anyway. I care about the girl who will start literal fights to defend her sport when people say that lacrosse isn't hard. I care about the girl ready to impale a possible vampire with a tree branch. I don't know, Kasey. I just do."
I stopped in my tracks, bewildered. "That's... not a joke, right? Not a trick-or-treat type situation?"
Now he was the bewildered one. "Uh, no."
"So..."
"So?"
"Um," I started, unsure of what to do in this situation. "Well, I care too, I guess."
His face—or what I can see of it—lit up. I blinked a few times, sure that I'd experienced my very first full-power Ethan-Willis smile.
"Sorry about your nose," I added, as an afterthought. "I mean, I didn't think you were a vampire, but I didn't want to take any chances."
Ethan laughed, then winced. "Fair enough. Just bring some of that chopping power to karate class next week, okay?"
He saw his parents across the road at the coffee shop. Waving goodbye, he crossed the street.
"I'll do my best," I call.
Alone, I turned left and went up to the Baptist Church. I took out five more dollars from my pocket and slipped the money into the donation box. After that haunted house experience, it was the least I could do.