If the Broom Fits: A Halloween Romance

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If the Broom Fits: A Halloween Romance Page 12

by Sarah Sutton


  I trailed behind Gram hesitantly, almost wanting to hide behind her as we approached the park. Despite my positive attitude over my outfit, nerves tried to devour me. Would I stumble upon Lucas—or, more specifically, Lucas and Hailey? I tried to tell myself that whatever happened, everything would be okay. If he was with her, that would be okay. And if he was alone…it’d be okay.

  It didn’t feel okay. More like nerve-wracking and world-ending.

  Gram looked both ways before we crossed the street, giving us a good view of how many people were crammed into the park’s boundaries. Monsters and vampires and witches and doctors—all the costumes under the sun—flitted around the space, mingling, having fun. The Halloween Boo-Bash was open to all ages, going from seven-thirty when trick-or-treating ended until ten at night. It was almost eight now, and the celebration of Halloween was in full swing. I even saw Delia running around with a few other kids from town, wearing the princess dress Gram and I had given her. She hadn’t noticed me, laughing as she chased a boy in a homemade frog costume, with green jeans and a green sweatshirt, trying to reach out and grab his shoulder.

  With a secret smile, I continued to trail Gram.

  Whoever had decorated the park deserved an award. Someone had scattered pumpkins and jack-o-lanterns tastefully around the benches and picnic tables, and thick wads of fake spiderwebs hung from the tips of tree branches. Purple-and-orange neon lights rounded the perimeter of the stone fountain, glowing onto the sidewalk.

  We found Uncle John in the section of the park that had been cordoned off for food, and I grinned when I saw his simple costume. He wore chef’s whites complete with an authentic-looking toque blanche on his head, and I had no idea where he’d gotten it.

  Donnie looked so much like his dad—they both had the same crazy hair, same goofy grin. When Uncle John spotted us, he lifted his palms. “Whatcha think, ladies? Pretty cool, huh?”

  “Very on brand,” Gram agreed as she came closer, chuckling. “Though, you don’t match Aimee very well.”

  “I thought she could dress up as a mouse, but she vetoed that idea real quick.” Uncle John winked at me. “Who knew Gram had a gothic princess costume?” he teased.

  I put my hands on my hips. “I’m a witch.”

  “If the broom fits,” a familiar voice said from behind me, and Donnie stepped up, grinning.

  The costume he wore exceeded my expectations. Donnie ended up being the salt to Phoebe’s pepper, because he had on a white cone-shaped costume, completed with a silver hat that acted as the dispenser on his head.

  With Donnie by my side, I could almost pretend the nerves disappeared. Almost. “Where’s your date?”

  “Bathroom. I saw you and Gram and wanted to come say hi. Did you know they’re letting adults into the bouncy house?” He rubbed his palms together, excitement dancing across his face. “It’s going to be amazing.”

  Gram took stock of everything on our table, from the zombie cookies to the mini hot-dogs wrapped in bacon. “I’m going to see if Aimee needs any more help hauling the rest over.” When she turned to face me, though, something caught her attention. Something behind me, over my shoulder. “Blaire.”

  I instantly knew.

  I let out a shaking breath as I slowly pivoted on my heel, facing the party of people. From where I stood, everything was in plain sight. The black-and-orange balloon arch that hung above one of the park entrances—the idea totally stolen from Mrs. Avery’s tea party, I was sure—the ample amount of Halloween decorations scattered around, and even the glowing orange cloths that covered a few waist-high tables. I could see everything.

  Especially the boy who stood probably fifteen feet from me, dressed like royalty, stiff as a statue.

  Lucas couldn’t have been any more wrong about the costume his mom had laid out for him. “Lame,” he’d said. “Tight pants.” But it wasn’t lame at all, and his pants weren’t too tight. They were crimson red, with little gold stripes running down the leg. He wore a royal blue overcoat with tassels and shoulder pads. A red sash ran diagonally across his chest, secured at his waist. On his dark head of hair rested a golden crown.

  He definitely looked like a prince, so much so that it took my breath away. My heart spurred faster in my chest with the step I took toward him, leaving Gram, Donnie, and Uncle John behind without a second thought. A frantic beat pounded against my ribs, leaving the world uneven, like everything had started listing to the side.

  When I got to the edge of the cobblestones, mere feet from Lucas, I stopped. The clocktower bell tolling above us as it reached the hour.

  “You got your Halloween wish, I see.” Lucas smiled, teeth and all. “No princess costumes for you.”

  Energy jolted through my body, humming, unable to keep fully still. I rubbed my fingers over my nails, the smoothness calming me, if only fractionally. “I owe you an apology,” I said to him. “I need to apologize about what happened—about our breakup.”

  Lucas dragged in a shaking breath, and then he held his hand out. “Come with me.”

  Five fingers spread wide, angled toward me. Beckoning me. I knew what it’d mean if I took his hand, if I allowed myself to dive back in. Despite everything, I wasn’t sure. “Where’s Hailey?”

  “Hailey?” Lucas blinked, a crease between his forehead. “I’m not here with her, Blaire. I—I’m here by myself.”

  “You are?”

  “I told her I couldn’t go with her.” Lucas’s face was somber, as serious as it had been the day I’d told him I couldn’t be with him anymore. “She wasn’t the one I wanted to be with.”

  For a split second, I was thrown back to that day, to that moment. That exact moment when the words had tumbled from my mouth, and I’d watched his face go from concerned to alarmed, worried to panicked at the idea of me breaking up with him. He’d reached out for me, as if a mere touch would wipe my words out of existence.

  In that moment, I’d pulled back, afraid his touch would do that very thing.

  I slid my hand into his, the warmth of his grasp flooding over me, starting from my hand and working its way up through my entire body. Without wasting a second, I entwined my fingers with his, holding on.

  I tried to angle my face down, focusing on the way Lucas’s hand curved over mine as he led me away from the crowd’s center. His skin was darker than mine, my fingers were slenderer than his, but our hands fit together perfectly. Like a song I hadn’t heard in years, but I still knew all the words to. A scent I hadn’t smelled in forever, bringing back a flood of memories. Two puzzle pieces, molded together in a perfect fit.

  People ambled by us as if we were ghosts passing in the night, but I didn’t lift my gaze to see if anyone looked at us. Most wouldn’t have thought anything of a couple wandering around.

  I jolted. A couple.

  Lucas pulled us around the edge of the clocktower, into a darker corner beneath one of the weeping willow trees. Its branches nearly touched the ground, overgrown and swaying in the breeze. Lucas, despite my death grip, released my fingers, facing me while straightening his shoulders. “I—”

  “Let me go first,” I said, because I’d lose my determination if I let him say anything that would distract me from an apology. “I never told you why I broke up with you.”

  A strange look passed over Lucas’s face. “No. You didn’t.”

  “That letter. The one my dad sent me? I got it the day…the day I broke things off. Seeing his letter, it was a huge reminder that he left me. Not that I could ever really forget it, but it was like a slap in the face.” I swallowed hard, my face starting to warm. But I had to keep going. “It got me thinking about the night before, when we almost—well, it made me think about if it was so easy for my dad to walk away, it’d be that much easier for you to leave too. And I panicked.”

  More like I’d self-destructed. Instead of talking to Lucas about it, instead of talking to anyone about it, I’d started burning bridges. Struck a match and lit everything on fire.

  I
looked down at myself, at the way the dark hemline pooled onto the grass. “I’m so sorry for not telling you the truth. I’m sorry you got dragged in the middle of everything.”

  Breathe, Blaire, I tried to tell myself, but I couldn’t. It was impossible when I knew Lucas stood there, saying nothing. I could hear his steady breathing, see his shoes from the corner of my eye, but no words came out of his mouth.

  Until— “You didn’t break up with me because you don’t love me anymore?” The words were barely above a whisper. “You were afraid I’d leave you?”

  I made a face at the ground. “Maybe I broke up with you because you’re a bad listener.”

  “Blaire Beverly,” he said. The expression on Lucas’s face was nothing short of soft. I couldn’t describe the way he looked at me, like I was some sort of precious jewel that’d been offered out to him. He dipped his head. “Do you seriously think I’d just give up on us without an explanation? That I’d leave you all alone?”

  I held his gaze, trying to be like him and scan the depths of his soul, but I could never see deeper than the surface. I always got too lost in the color. “My dad did. Why couldn’t you?”

  “Why do you think I’ve stuck around all this time? Even after you dumped me, I was there. Even when you didn’t want me to be, even when you straight-up ignored me. I love you. I’m not going to walk away.”

  For some reason, that only made everything worse. “We’re in high school, Lucas. What if you only think you love me because you don’t know any better?”

  Lucas reached out and pulled one of my hands into his, touch gentle enough to draw goosebumps, much more potent than the shivers of the night breeze. “As much as I know it right now, I know that I love you.”

  No idea where all the oxygen had gone, because suddenly, I couldn’t breathe. Hearing him say those things now made something turn over inside me, like a deadbolt on a door flipping open. I imagined slapping my hand over it, trying to flip it back, but it was no use.

  And I wanted nothing more to return the smile, to dissolve into his embrace like I had so many times before.

  But something in me held back. “I’m snarky and dramatic and shove things down and do the wrong thing. A lot. I hurt you. How can you just forgive me?”

  “I want this, Bee.” Lucas’s expression filled with hope and tenderness, one that could’ve made me start to cry again. “I want to be there for you. Watch scary movies and video-chat with you later when I’m afraid of the shadows. To help with the catering and kiss you on my couch. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, not anytime soon. I’m all yours.” He added, “If you still want me.”

  Each one of his words settled inside me, like little stones settling at the bottom of a stream. He was Lucas, beautiful Lucas, offering his heart to me even though I’d crushed it before. With his dark hair and stunning blue eyes, curling smile and gentle touch.

  “I’m no princess,” I whispered to him, trembling, staring at the spot where our fingers joined. With my free hand, I grabbed the black material of my dress, lifting so the hem pulled from the ground. “But the shoes do sort of fit.”

  Lucas’s gaze dropped as I lifted the bottom of the dress to reveal the horrible, tiny, ugly plastic shoes I’d shoved my feet into. They felt two sizes too small, like they always had, but now I found myself not hating them as much. I thought of all the times I’d given Gram crap for these shoes, and now they came in handy.

  My princess shoes glittered in the dull light, looking almost like actual glass slippers.

  Lucas looked at them for a long moment, as if the shoes themselves were a spell that held his gaze. I held my breath as the moment of quiet expanded, hoping he understood, my heart about to burst.

  And, ever so slowly, he looked up, at me. “They don’t really match your witchy getup, Bee.”

  A startled laugh burst from me. “This is me trying to say I’ll be the sort-of princess to your prince. You’re supposed to be a couple at this party thing, right?”

  The grin on Lucas’s face lit up my insides, realization dawning. It was his real smile, his brilliant teeth showing, the dimple in his bottom lip coming out, the indentation on the left corner of his mouth pushed in. He reached out and pulled one of my hands away from my dress, linking his fingers through mine.

  “I’m not perfect,” I rushed to say. “I screwed up, pushing you away when I should’ve kept you close. And I’m sorry. I promise next time I won’t run.” The words flowed from me in an effortless sort of stream, and I couldn’t understand why I’d been so nervous before. Being here with him, with our fingers entwined, I’d never felt more at ease. More at home. “Thank you for sticking by me even though I was a pain. And for getting me coffee.”

  “Donnie told you about that, huh?” He chuckled. “It was purely selfish, I promise. I couldn’t let you go.”

  And thank goodness for that.

  I reached up and traced my fingertips along the sharpness of his jaw, back until my hand rested on the side of his neck. “I love you,” I told him, the emotion blooming in my chest, unraveling my sanity. “No one knows the future. But I know I want to face it with you.”

  “That—” Lucas’s voice lowered to a whisper as he placed a hand on my waist and pulled me close, “—was tremendously cheesy. I mean it. I cringed a little.”

  I shook my head back and forth, and I told him, “Just shut up and kiss me.”

  No hesitation. Lucas leaned forward in one swift movement and pressed his lips against mine.

  For a moment, the warmth of his mouth shocked me, the way it always used to at first. His lips kissed the cold from mine, responding almost like no time had passed. Heat flooded through me, wiping any trace of my goosebumps. Gosh, it’d been so long since our last kiss. Too long. My head spun with the taste of him, familiar and tender and rich. It turned deeper when I parted my lips beneath his, pulling him closer, closer, until not a sliver of space existed between us.

  People still laughed and teased and danced around us, but in that moment, it was just him and me.

  I pressed closer, dropping the broom so I could wrap my arms around his neck. It clattered against the ground, but it barely registered.

  How I’d lived without this, I had no idea, but I did know I never wanted to do it again. And it’d be different. For me, there was no more running. I wasn’t going to push away those who meant the most to me. I wasn’t going to isolate myself anymore.

  Surrounded by Halloween decorations and people in wild costumes, I relaxed in Lucas’s arms, finally knowing things would be all right.

  I pulled the pen up from the paper with a sharp breath, looking at the page filled with looping black letters, scrawled by a nervous hand. At the bottom, my scribbled signature was illegible, but the two B’s were clear. Blaire Beverly.

  And at the top, two daunting words. Dear Dad.

  I never thought I’d write those words. Especially not in this past month since receiving his letter. I honestly hadn’t thought I’d get to this point. Forgiveness had been elusive, intangible, but here I was. The piece of stationary overflowed with lines poured from my heart, filling the page. And looking it over, it finally felt right.

  “Blaire, Aimee called up and said Lucas and Donnie are downstairs,” Gram said as she stepped into the doorway of my bedroom, eyes immediately drawing over to where I sat at my desk. And then to the paper in front of me. “How’s draft number three going?”

  I reached out and traced my signature. “I think it needs one more revision. I finally figured out how to say everything, but it could be polished a bit better.”

  The floorboards creaked as Gram stepped further into my room, coming to rest her hand on my shoulder. “Do you mind if I stick mine in with yours when you send it?”

  Gram had written a letter of her own to Dad, but neither of us had told the other of the contents. She’d written about her personal feelings and I’d written about mine, and only Dad would get to know them. We’d made that decision after I’d let Gra
m read the first draft of my letter, and she hadn’t been sure if I should’ve called Dad a butt—or, you know, a not-so-polite synonym for butt.

  “Sounds perfect to me,” I said, pushing to my feet to wrap my arms around her. She was so much shorter than me, so much daintier, and I couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  Gram gave me a squeeze before she released me. “Have fun. Tell Lucas again how much I appreciated his help cleaning up Saturday night, will you?”

  Lucas had stayed late after the Bash a week ago, cleaning up the booth with us—and then cleaning up the disaster area of a kitchen we’d left at the shop. He’d had no problem stepping back into his role as a helper at Costume Catering, hauling things back and forth, and even lending a hand to Aunt Aimee to wash dishes. It wasn’t the way I’d wanted us to spend our first night together as a couple again—it would’ve involved much more alone time—but it was still good to see him around my family.

  It was good to have him around.

  “I will,” I promised her, and headed out.

  Aunt Aimee sat at the front counter of the shop with a large planner opened in front of her, murmuring slightly under her breath.

  “Planning our next outing?” I asked as I came out of the stairwell. “Any more costume parties?”

  “Those are dying off.” She tapped her pen against a blank section of the planner. “We’re going into the holiday season, so everyone’s going to want us to wear our normal catering uniforms. Make sure your black pants fit, okay?”

  “As soon as I get back, I’ll try them on.” I glanced around the room. “The boys are—”

  “Outside.” Aunt Aimee shook her head with a fond smile. “How you managed to convince Donnie to go on a walk, I have no clue. I’m never able to convince him to go with John and me.”

  I patted her on the shoulder before walking around the side of the desk. “That’s because he’d rather walk with his cool friends than his lame parents.”

 

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