His face was a display of sincerity, bright grey eyes wide and bare, a strawberry sucker in his mouth, a bottle of beer in his hand. He was missing half of his clothes; he stood before me with a derisive smile, shirtless, tie tied around his forearm. "Poor kitty."
"Was this you?" I demanded, my question indignant, the words lashing out at him. "Where did you go? Where are your goddamn clothes? Answer me, Eton!"
"It wasn't me. I'm hurt that you'd think I could do such a thing. I love animals. I donate to the shelter all the time. Anyway. It's been years since I moved on from bunnies to humans. When I have a house full of smelly, intoxicated fuckers, why would I go for a harmless pussy cat?" he tugged me away from the chaotic scene, we headed out in the hallway. "I could push a twerp from the top of the rooftop, or drown someone in the bathtub upstairs, I could probably smack someone's head against the wall and leave before anyone realises what happened. What I'm trying to say, Calla, is don't insult my intelligence. I'm not a child anymore. If I was going to hunt anyone, I'd go for the bitch you call your best friend. Where is she, by the way? I'm hope she's choking on her own blood, alone and desperate."
"If you've hurt her, I will drag you out of here by your goddamn hair and throw you in the police station myself. You won't have uncle Hektor to defend your case this time. How does 25 to life sound?"
An acrimonious flash passed by his features, blackhearted and hateful, he looked like he wanted to strike me. "I fucking hate you, Calla. You're such a fucking..." he controlled himself, taking a large mouthful of air and calming down slightly. His mouth broke into a sinister smile. "We're playing a game, I don't give a damn if you want to play or not, you're in. There are no rules. If I find Winnie before you do, I'll dump her lifeless body on her front doorstep tomorrow morning but not before I cúm on her face and let the jizz dry out. If you find her, I'll back off."
"You are out of your goddamn mind if you believe I'll play a role in your sick chases. It's not happening, Eton. Why don't you head home? You've had enough fun for tonight."
Someone bumped into me roughly. Eton caught me as I stumbled. "Is this goth bitch fucking blind? Watch where you're going."
The culprit squeaked. "Sorry!" I turned around in time to see Yuma in a swishy black skirt and a beige cardigan scurrying away, a fearful glint in her brown eyes, her plait bobbing behind her. I faced Eton only to find the back of his head in between crowds, some distance away. "Fuck." I cursed and tried following him.
"HEY!" Velvet gripped my arm, dressed in a silky violet dress. Half of her face was sprayed in blue paint. She wore risky, clear high heels and a tipsy smile. I didn't get her artistic vision but I'm sure someone appreciated it. Not me right now though. I needed to find Eton or Winnie and Velvet was holding me back. "HEY, CLEO!"
"I need to go, can I talk to you later?" I was slightly desperate, already shifting in the opposite direction.
She tugged me back, mouth to my ear. "WAIT! I need to tell you something."
"What is it?" I pressed urgently.
"Uh," she glanced down in thought, brow lowered slightly and then she shrugged. "Beats me. I forgot. Would you like to dance?"
"God fucking dammit," I forcibly wrenched myself away, ignoring her calls and shoving my way through the crowds. I could hear Rodger weeping for his beloved cat, demanding for the murderer to be found and hung. The atmosphere was rousing, the energies of the drunken students were frenzied, and people were panicking or arguing with each other. A murdered jock threw a punch at a Walmart-version vampire, yelling incoherently. A cheerleader with a slit across her neck, hair in pigtails broke a glass over the head of another cheerleader and she toppled to the floor, unconscious.
Pretty soon it was a full out brawl, a wrestling match that was violent, brutal and chaotic. Bodies meshed into one giant ball of limbs and bloody cuts, furniture was thrown, windows were head-butted, hair was yanked and dragged across the floor. Peacemakers were ignored and shoved to the side. Phones flashed, cheers came from Tweeters intending to upload their shakily-recorded videos to WORLDSTAR Hip Hop.
I searched the living room for Eton. People were still dancing to Roy Wood$, unbothered about the clash in the next room, the speakers were vibrating. I found Leif standing by himself away from the dancers, nodding to the beat. I hoped he could help me, he seemed to be the only sober person in the house. I was wrong. He was getting relationship advice from a painting. "Man, I don't know," he was mumbling, eyes unfocused and collar rumpled, square framed glasses missing. "She doesn't like boys, what can I do? Huh...you're right. Should I take you as a gift to her? I think she'll like you. She likes naked breasts."
"What are you doing?" I questioned, bewildered, amazed. He was trying to pull the painting from the wall, fingers gripped around the golden frame. "Stop it, Leif."
"My name is not Leef, it's Leaf."
"What is the damn difference? What did you take?"
"A love potion." He sighed dreamily. "I'm in love with her. She's so ethereal. My heart is a boner for her." He paused, and then became horrified by what he had exclaimed. "That came out wrong. Oh my god. Please don't tell Velvet I said that." He put his head in his hands in despair, his words muffled and mumbled.
I pried his hands away. "Have you seen Winnie?"
"No," he wiped his sweaty forehead, looking queasy. "I don't want to be here anymore. Can you call my mom and tell her to come and pick me up? She moved to London when I was eight. I don't think she wants me anymore because she hasn't called me since I was eleven. And my step-mom hates me. She calls me a sissy queer bitch." He laughed, it sounded desperate. "I'm a modern day Cinderella."
I was torn between comforting him and finding Winnie. The latter held more importance. "Sit here," I set him down in an armchair by the open window. "Don't drink or take any other drugs. I'll be right back, I promise you. Alright?"
He nodded and told the painting. "That's my friend. She's nice to me."
The fight was spilling out of the kitchen and out into the backyard. I was about to follow the crowds when I caught the sight of a clown mask stapled to the wall. It was Winnie's terrifying mask. Someone had drawn an arrow in a black marker pointing upwards. I shot upstairs, pushed past a couple kissing in the middle of the hallway and started for the first door. It was a closet. The second was locked. The third was occupied with a bunch of girls and boys having sex. They didn't notice me and I shut the door. The bathroom door was unlocked and I poked my head in.
Eton was sat on the window ledge, gazing out of the window at the thundering night sky, a cigarette lit in his hand. He wasn't a smoker. Half of his face paint had smudged and on the mirror was an imprint of a heavily made-up face; eyelashes stuck to the glass, red lipstick had smeared, tanned foundation was a blur on the mirror. The room reeked of bodily fluids and cheap cigarettes. "I couldn't find your friend." His voice was low, indifferent. He sighed heavily and tossed the cigarette out of the window.
A girl groaned softly. I yanked back the shower curtain, gazing down at the half-naked girl in concern and bafflement. Her costume had been torn, her panties were around her ankles and she was currently flashing me her most private parts. "What the fuck, Eton!?" I gestured to her, demanding an explanation.
He shrugged, didn't seem to care.
"Are you alright?" I tried to hold onto her arms to heave her up but she batted me away, dropping her head on the cold taps with a painful clunk, and she grinned at me.
"I lost my virginity!" she was proud.
The make-up impression on the mirror must've been hers. "That's nice," I didn't know what else to say, brow furrowed. "Come on, let me get you out."
"No, I can't walk. It hurts." She rubbed a finger between her area, groaning to herself first in discomfort and then in pleasure.
I didn't know what the hell was happening. What was wrong with people? I tugged the shower curtain back in place to give her privacy. Eton called for me. "Look at this, it's so pretty."
I looked out of the window. A fire had been started, wicked red and burning yellow flames devouring a blue shed at the far end of the garden. There was a crowd of cheering people holding hands and dancing around in a circle. People were singing a song, their words muddled and almost indistinguishable. It was a few moments of concentrating that I then recognised the song: It was John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt. I only knew it because of Recess and I was sure it was the same for my classmates.
Rain spattered on my face, the clouds grumbled furiously, threatening to unleash a downpour that would drown everyone. Just as I was about to face Eton, there were sudden distant shrieks. "Stop, stop!" Rodger was crying, rushing after two dark figures, pleading with them. They ignored him, people hooted and laughed. The figures tossed something towards the raging inferno, black smoke billowed upwards into the trees. It was his cat. He fell to his knees, feet away from the fire, sobbing. Malicious skeletons and zombies mimicked his cries, mocking him, their laughter ringing and travelling up to the bathroom.
"Jesus Christ," the girl in the bathtub managed to distract us from the scene, she was mastúrbating, voice breathless and fingers slick.
"I'm sorry for lashing out at you, Calla." Eton said suddenly, sincerely. "You hurt me and I wanted to do the same to you. I just wanted to frighten you. I wasn't actually going to go anywhere near Winnie, especially not when she's in that godawful costume. I would rather shove a spear up the length of my dick."
Grey eyes met my own. A spark of uncertainty looked at me as I knitted my brows crossly, glacial glare fixed on him. My mouth was tugged down. My features were cold, unforgiving. "Go home."
"But Calla–"
"Go home, Eton."
"No," he crossed his arms across his chest, resolve found, his plea for forgiveness brushed to the side. The emotion drained from his face, replaced by an unimpassioned expression, gunmetal grey eyes cool, an eyebrow arched. "What makes you think I'll ever listen to you? You can't tell me shit. You're too fucking strung up, I shouldn't have taken that drink out of your hand. You need to take a spliff from someone's mouth and puff on it until you feel yourself levitating. Ease up, sis. You're bringing the mood of the party down."
"Where are you going?" I was so tense, relaxing wasn't going to happen. I felt like a forever-pissed mom with a teenaged brat who thought they knew more than anyone and acted out because no one understood them.
"You follow me and I swear to god, I will break every promise I made to behave. I mean it this time, Calla. Keep away from me otherwise I'll make this godforsaken house into a fucking crime scene." He slammed the door after him, the frame rattling from his force.
Soft snores filled the room in his absence. I dragged back the shower curtain and found the source. I covered her up with a towel and draped a bathrobe on top before leaving the room.
I walked down the stairs, feeling dejected and tired. This was supposed to be a fun party. So far I'd been running around like a headless chicken, trying to control a situation that was untameable. I headed past Leif attempting to gift a confused Velvet a naked painting, ignored Eton kissing a Catwoman, grabbed a bottle of beer from a cooler and a handful of M&Ms and then walked out into the back yard. Rain wetted my shoulders and hair and I tore off my cloak, tossing it away. I didn't know where my mask or staff was and I didn't care. The fire had been extinguished by fire extinguishers and currently students were in small groups, sat on the wet grass and talking amongst themselves.
Excitement had died down and tranquillity took its place.
I hated beer. I don't know why anyone drank it. It tasted like piss and rotten eggs. But the punch had been spoiled by the drowned cat and trying to nab a vodka bottle from the tight-fisted hands of the moronic shirtless group of boys ahead of me would be like trying to get blood from a stone. I had to settle on a Bud Light.
Rodger dropped beside me, legs folded under him. He was torn up about his cat although he had stopped crying. His eyes were red and he looked to be regretting hosting this year's Halloween party. I didn't blame him. Throwing the cat into the fire was a shitty, cruel thing to do. I passed him my beer bottle and he took a long swig and then swallowed, said quietly. "I fucking hate everyone. I should call the cops. Get these fuckers arrested."
"That would be social suicide," I advised against his wishes. "It would feel good to get back at them but it won't be worth it. You don't want to be called a snitch. Has anyone owned up to killing your cat?"
He shook his head. "This code of silence is bullshit. No-one is saying anything. No-one cares. I blame Xander Fox and his group of fuckwits, they've been jostling each other and chortling any time I pass by them."
My attention landed on a lone, scrawny figure. "I've got an idea..." I pointed her out. "Ask the witch to concoct a potion for you. Turn their skin green or give them food poisoning."
"She's a freak who'd probably kill them," he followed my gaze, looked back at me and then waved away the idea. "Nah. Forget it. Her price would probably be something like sacrificing my mom for her monthly ritual ceremony to Lucifer. You know, I don't actually remember inviting Yuma. I wonder where her jagged teeth twin is."
"I'll put ten dollars on mutilating some other part of her body."
A body plopped down to my right. Winnie looked ragged, like she'd been through hell and back. Her hair was tangled and her costume bunched around her waist, the arms tied to secure it in place. She wore a t-shirt underneath and she crossed her boot-clad shoes and yawned and then faced us. "Hey."
"Where the hell have you been? I saw you once and then you completely vanished."
She thought about it for a long minute and then shrugged, half-assed. "I actually don't know. Why can't I remember what I did? Ah. What the hell. It doesn't matter. I had fun – at least, I think I did. Great party, Rodger. You outdid last year."
"I'm never hosting another party again." He was about to say more when he was interrupted.
"Winnie!" a delighted Eton appeared, mouth quirked up in a mischievous smile, he hoisted her up, hands on her waist. "I was looking for you, looks like Cleo found you first. Damnit. It's a shame, I was really looking forward to playing the game." His depraved gaze shot over to me, a knowing look passed between us and then he turned back to her. "Where have you been hiding?" He masked his anger with another smile.
"What game?" she queried in confusion. "I invited you as my plus-one and as soon as you saw me you ran away. What is up with that?"
"He's terrified of clowns." I confessed for him, standing up. "He shat his pants as soon as he saw you and he had to go and change his diaper."
Eton shot me a glare. "Wow, thanks Cleo. You wear your costume of being a bitch a little too well."
"I'm scared of diets." Rodger admitted. "There's no need to be ashamed, dude."
We turned to him and frowned. He explained. "I used to be called Tubby. Mom hated the nickname and tried to get me to lose the weight. But I've accepted my body and I've since embraced the fat life."
"Cool story, Tubby." Eton remarked derisively. "Winnie, can we go someplace private? I want to talk to you alone."
"Sure–"
"I'll come, too."
"No one likes a tag-along. Three's a crowd. Go away, Cleo."
"You want me there, don't you, Winnie?"
She grimaced at me. "Maybe you should just ...uh, stay behind?"
I was offended. "I thought we were friends."
"Take the hint, Cleo." Eton furrowed his brow. "We're going to have sex and we don't want you there. Weren't you planning on hooking up with your mysterious man? Take the car. I'll find my own way home."
"I should probably start telling everyone to leave," Rodger heaved a sigh, getting to his feet. "Will you help me, Cleo?"
Winnie squeezed my hand. "I'll text you, alright?"
"Whatever. Alright." I lost the fight and I was bitter.
Eton glanced at me, voice low as Winnie said goodbye to Rodger. "Relax. I won't hurt her. I do actually like her."
"This is your last chance. If you hurt her, you're dead to me." I held his gaze to show I was serious. "I won't have anything to do with you. Then you'll really begin to understand how suffocating loneliness can be for a person with a dead twin."
"You don't mean that," he said uncertainly.
"Try me," I promised.
**
I dropped a broken-hearted Leif outside his home, took a befuddled Velvet across town to her apartment and then sat outside my house in the car with the heater on full blast. It was almost half past three in the morning and it was still raining heavily.
Rodger's party came to an abrupt end. Disgruntled neighbours made an appearance and shooed everyone into their vehicles and threatened to call the cops when everyone lingered about in the front yard, smoking and continuing the party outside, by which time, the mood had disintegrated and Halloween was finally over.
My phone battery was on fifty-three percent. The light shined on my face as I unlocked it. I went to settings, scrolled through the list and tapped on my block list. There was a single number on the list. I gave a lot of thought to it throughout the night and finally decided I deserved to have fun. My night was shit. Maybe I could turn it around. I copied the number, deleted it from the list and then called it.
I listened to it ring. Brr-brr. Pause. Brr-brr. Was I going to regret this? Brr-brr. Probably. Brr. Maybe I should just forget––
"Hello?" Frank's voice was hoarse, gruff like he'd just woken up.
***