Jet Black Hearts / l.h.

𝟐𝟕

Friday, October 31, 2018
6:00 p.m.
The Hemmings Residence

I knock on the front door three times and take a step back. I look up at the house.

White siding with some brick accents. It's a normal house; it doesn't stand out from any of the other houses on the street. It's almost exactly how she pictured his house would be like—normal. Nothing's wrong with normal every once in a while. It keeps a person sane.

It only takes a few seconds until I hear footsteps bounding towards the front door. A girl appears on the other side of the door, maybe six or seven years of age. Her blond hair is pulled up into a ponytail out of her face, exposing the orange cloth tied around her head that rests over her eyes with holes or her to see. She's wearing a green long-sleeved shirt and green leggings with a plastic turtle shell on her back, a toy piece of pizza in one hand. A teenaged mutant ninja turtle, I realize.

I can't see her face entirely because of the mask, but from what I can see, her nose and the shape of her chin resemble Luke's. This must be his sister, Bethany.

Instead of opening the door like I expect her to, the girl presses her face against the glass, her nose squashed to resemble a pig's. She breathes out and fogs the window, giggling.

"Hi," I say, a bit louder than my normal volume so she can hear me through the door better. "Is Luke home?"

Bethany leans away from the window and draws on the fogged-up circle on the glass, completely ignoring me.

Movement from inside causes me to look past the confusing little girl. I smile at the sight of Luke.

He steps in front of the door and gently pushes his sister out of the way.

"Why didn't you say that someone was at the door, Beth?" Luke asks her as he opens the door.

Bethany hits Luke in the knee with her plastic piece of pizza before running off, screeching. Luke rolls his eyes and holds the door open for me as I step through the threshold. Warmth envelops my shivering body as the door shuts behind me.

"Sorry about her," Luke apologizes, scratching the back of his head. "She isn't a big talker, or . . . interacter. She pretty much ignores more than half the human population."

I shrug and cross my arms across my chest, hugging myself. "It's fine."

Luke smiles. He quickly looks me up and down. "Where's your costume?" He teases.

I quirk an eyebrow. "Where's yours?"

"It's in the bathroom," he replies. "Bethany picked it out, so you're not allowed to laugh when I put it on."

I let out a short chuckle. "Depends on what you're dressed as."

He feigns a serious expression. He holds up his hand and extends his pinky. "Pinky promise me you won't laugh, or I won't be your friend anymore and you'll have to go home and spend Halloween all alone by yourself."

I shrug. "Fine."

I start to turn around and head for the door, but Luke catches my arm and pulls be back to him. I look up at him expectedly.

He just grins.

Who can say no to those dimples?

"Ugh," I give in, holding up my pinky and interlocking it with Luke's. "I pinky promise I won't laugh at your costume."

"Thank you. Now, if you'd excuse me, I have a costume to put on."