Would You Rather

14 - WYR: party with a SK cowgirl or, well. You'd chose that one anyway.

FIDAN

7:56pm, Wednesday

FIDAN: There's another Frank in my house if you want to come kill it

FIDAN: will pay with extracurricular activities

6:15am, Friday

HOLY H-BOMB: kill your own Franks

HOLY H-BOMB: what are you doing tonight

6:20am, Friday

FIDAN: game. Not home until midnight

HOLY H-BOMB: hm. Unfortunate.

FIDAN: not saying I'm not free before then, though

HOLY H-BOMB: I'm not free until past 8 today

FIDAN: This scheduling sucks. We haven't used a single Calgary condom.

HOLY H-BOMB: i can't believe you're keeping up that bit

FIDAN: it's a good ass bit

FIDAN: not as good as your ass but

HOLY H-BOMB: master of flattery, you are

FIDAN: I seriously can't believe I've been home five days and haven't seen you once

FIDAN: but I'm sort of free tomorrow.

FIDAN: actually. Do you want to come to an NHL halloween house party tomorrow night? You can bring your friends.

HOLY H-BOMB: your not-roommate just invited my roommate so I'm going. See you there?

FIDAN: see you there lol

***

I'm dressing up as... I'm not sure. Halloween is a distinctly American, and by American I mean the United States and Canada, tradition. Never have I ever dressed up as something other than for a rager and I've only been to three Halloween related ragers.

This one is Langley's. He's got an old ranch house just outside of city limits, a new acquisition for him, and he's been nipping at his own ankles out of excitement to throw one of these.

Hugo is in my livingroom, shirtless and wearing a cowboy hat.

"That's it?" I ask, looking at him. He's let his chest hair grow out just a bit for the costume. "What even are you?"

"Spaghetti western."

"What?" I have to process that one. "Okay, first, you're Spanish."

"Okay? And? I can be an Italian rendition of an American cowboy if I want."

I run my hand over my face. One of my only friends on the team, a Spaniard raised partly in Slovakia, is dressed up like an Italian version of an American cowboy going to a party in Canada. And he's not even doing it that accurately.

"You're dressed up as Some Guy so don't yell at me for this."

"Some Guy is going to become a costume if you just give me half a second." I look around the inside of my small apartment. I need to go hot, but not boring. Something that Finley can tease me for, but won't make fun of me for. A careful balance.

"You could do lumberjack," he says, not looking up from his phone. "Jeans, flannel, suspenders."

"That's, like, lame though."