❝If I was ever a rare fine summer person, that's long ago. Most of us are half-and-half. The August noon in us works to stave off the November chills. We survive by what little Fourth of July wits we've stashed away. But there are times when we're all autumn people.❞

-Something Wicked This Way Comes by Ray Bradbury

✕✕✕✕✕

Halloween has never been one of my favorite holidays.

I mean, yes, I loved to dress up and run around the town with my friends, begging strangers for free candy and being veritable little terrors. And then we got older, and when we ditched the tricks and treats for parties and horror movies and late nights, it only got better. But as fun as it always was, it was only that way because of who I was spending it with.

Macy, of course the holiday enthusiast of the group, would start us all on a healthy dose of Halloween movies as we'd plan out our costumes at least a few months in advance. Veronica would always look fabulous, and Will and I would match each other. Despite his girlfriend, Trevor would never be able to decide on a costume until like 2 days beforehand, but it'd always work out to be fun in the end. Especially as we became teenagers and started to get invited to class clown Meatball's older brother's annual party the Saturday before the 31st.

Although the senior guys always brought beer and vodka, the party was never that wild of a rager. Unlike whatever party Veronica went to on the night of the crash, nobody destroyed property or made too loud of a racket that the neighbors would call the cops. It was always just a warm get-together, buzzing with gossip and tacky costumes and excitement for the real reason we all always came: to see history made.

That is to say... there was always a thing that happened at the Ballingers' party, something that kept people coming back, from a violent fight to a dramatic confrontation to a revelation of something that would shock the entire student body. Once, the captain of the basketball team got so drunk that he stood on a table and confessed he had seduced and slept with every single basketball cheerleader in order to win a bet. You can imagine the cheerleaders' righteous fury.

That... that was a rough year.

Still, we always got through it. Will, Veronica, Trevor, Macy, and I may have been popular in our grade, but only a select few of underclassmen were invited, so our goal for the first couple years was always to blend in, elsewise get into problems ourselves. We'd stay wallflowers, absorbing everything that happened in order to keep up-to-date with all the latest drama, and somehow we'd make the seemingly miserable parties not so miserable.

It's so weird how a group of friends can make anything tolerable. Laughter really is the most powerful medicine.

So it fucking sucks when you lose the thing that made you laugh the most.

This year, I'm invited to Meatball's party again. I'm not surprised, because the majority of upperclassmen are just automatically invited, aside from most of the more academic crowd, who probably wouldn't want to go anyway. I don't want to go either, because as tempting as the invitation is, there's no point without my "squad". Who do I wince with over the terrible mistakes my classmates make? Who do I spend the night with, ready for Monday, when the entire school will be exploding with drama?

Things between Veronica and I aren't comfortable enough for me to just call her up so we can have our usual pre-party hangout. As much as I love her - and as much as I can tell she does care about me, too - Macy is unpredictable. Trevor might not even come, considering how much he's been focusing more and more on his safety and health. And the most important of them all... he's been gone since May.

It's not like I'm completely, utterly alone anymore. As I'd expected, in drama club on Wednesday, everyone went wild over my story of meeting Lexi Lawson and seeing Hamilton, which made me feel slightly more accomplished and slightly more appreciated by my peers.

Still, they're not the same. In the long run, I'd rather stay home all together than spend the night listening to drama king Jordan Costello complain about the quality of music that's playing.

So, I thought, I'm not going to go. It'd probably be safer that way, anywho, because who knows what fresh hell my mind could raise for me if I was faced with a sensory overload. I'd much prefer to not have a panic attack this weekend.

Even if it means letting go of one of the biggest traditions of my childhood.

Then, Kat, of all people, brings up the party the Friday before.

We've just eaten dinner, and as my mother is taking out the trash, Kat leans against the island and says coolly, "Are you going to Meatball's party tomorrow?"

I raise my eyebrows. "Are you?"

"Maybe," she replies with a shrug. "Probably."

This is new. Kat and her soccer friends have almost always done their own thing for Halloween, but maybe things have changed this year - that, or this is part of my sister's new rebellious streak. Either way, I'm still proud that she's getting out of her neurotic shell.

"But," she continues, "I was just wondering if you were going too. I know parties probably aren't really your thing anymore, but... I didn't want to take over your scene without you."

Chuckling unhappily to myself, I shake my head and cross my arms. "I don't think it's really 'my scene' anymore, Kat. Go ahead. Unless you want me to go with you."

To my surprise, my sister casually responds, "I do. And, uh, I'm pretty sure Macy does too."

Macy? I think. Since when are they legitimate friends? Kat must notice my confusion, because she quickly adds, "I saw her today at school, and she told me to tell you that you should come. Because apparently she doesn't know how texting works."

"Oh." My skin goes cold.

Well, there's one member of my old group, ready to hang out again, although I can't say I'm all that shocked. More than anything, I'm relieved. Even though she's oblivious, I know that Macy is my friend at the end of the day - she just forgets sometimes to show me. I suppose this her way of showing me right now.

"You don't have to come, of course," Kat says, waving a hand dismissively as she stands up straight and starts walking towards the stairs. "Just extending an offer, I guess."

An offer, huh? That's an interesting way to refer to it. An offer for some much needed friendship before my fate, or an offer for much, much worse....In my head, a thousand perfectly logical reasons why I should not go to the party are being screamed at me.

Potentially being left alone. Lack of a costume. Broken memories. Flashbacks. Panic attacks.

But I have no idea how long I have left. I can't let my last interactions with each of my old friends be awkward encounters at school. I need to talk to each of them at least one more time, to feel dim lighting and hear kids laughing and hold a red solo cup in my hand. If I'm leaving forever, I want a chance to say goodbye.

Maybe this will be it. Maybe it'll go out with a bang. This will be my final bow - and before I know it, I'll be long gone from Ashdown. Although I'm ready for Heaven, the thought almost sends a shiver down my spine.

Taking a deep breath, I call after Kat, "I think I'll go, too."

She's just about up the stairs by now, but she ducks her head down so that we can make eye contact. With a genuine, albeit tiny smile, she says, "Cool."

With a genuine, albeit anxious smile, I reply, "Cool."

✕✕✕

The next day, I spend a good few hours raiding my closet, hoping there's an old costume or outfit for me to salvage somewhere in the recessing shadows. I get distracted easily by some of the things I find, pausing involuntarily to go into fits of memory, but by the evening I've put together a denim skirt, cropped camisole, and high tops, all three white, with a halo and wings from when I was in the 5th grade Christmas Pageant.

I throw the clothes on before I think too hard about what I'm doing, then stand in the mirror and take a deep breath. My messy dark hair and heavy tea ground eyes and graying tan skin contrast the ivory outfit in the most off-putting of ways, so that, all in all, I look too depressed to be angelic.

Maybe it's kind of ironic that I'm dressing up as an angel anyway, but it's all I can come up with. For a moment, I wonder how Mor would feel - or his race, at least, with their alleged resentment for heavenly beings.

It feels like it's been so long since I've seen him last, I think to myself, although it hasn't, really. The last time we spoke - at Disney, on that warm, starlit night - was only 8 days ago. But I find that I almost miss his cynical presence, if only because it reminds me of how close I am to Will.

Will... if he were here, we would've had our costumes purchased and ready weeks ago. I'd be bubbling over with excitement and eager anxiety about what drama would go down at the party, and after we'd meet up with Veronica, we'd all walk downtown and hypothesize about the outcome of the night.

Now, I am still somewhat anxious about how the evening will end, although in a different way. However, I can't see it being any worse than just coming back home, curling up in bed, and thinking about how badly I want Heaven. If I can stay away from the worst reminders, and cling to Macy and Kat the whole night, then with the help of my future coming for me soon, I may be able to survive.

A rumbling knock on my white pine bedroom door drags me away from my thoughts.

Turning from the mirror, I reach over and twist the doorknob to see Kat standing in the hall, eyebrows raised. Before I can even take in the view of her - she's dressed up as Wonder Woman, pursed lips and all - she says, "An angel, Lila? Really?"

"It was all I could come up with," I reply with a shrug. She rolls her eyes, but I just continue, "You ready?"

Kat takes a deep breath, as if we're talking about a court sentencing and not a high school party. With a roll of her head that makes her tense neck let out a few cracks, she finally nods. "Yeah, I'm ready. Let's go."

✕✕✕

As we come downstairs, I find Mama is nowhere to be seen, but then I remember she left about an hour ago to go up to Burlington. Tonight is her annual Halloween work party, when all of the local newscasters get together and talk about whatever newscasters talk about. It's always been the same night as Meatball's party, which was remarkably convenient... up until this year. It took a good 20 minutes for Kat and I to convince her that we wouldn't hold it against her if she went. It seems she really is trying to be at work less, as she's spent the past few evenings at home cooking us dinner instead of at the studio.

I won't lie, my mother's new affection is getting to me, latching on to my morbid heart like some sort of positive parasite that makes me feel slightly better about my day-to-day life. But going from eating cereal three nights a week to eating an actual meal instead isn't going to change anything in the long run.

With no one there to stop us, we walk downtown.

As the crisp Autumn wind bites against my arms and makes me wish I brought a sweater, we approach Meatball's big brick house. It's decorated with fake webs and chenille spiders, the walkway lined with pumpkins and hay bales. Among the arachnids and jack-o-lanterns, I see some kids from drama club hanging out on the front porch, and a few of them give me tentative waves as we pass.

Inside the house, it's similar decor, but much warmer. There's about 40 kids already in the living room, which isn't even half of the full quotient that will most likely show up. Yellow, buttery lighting glints off of my classmates, who are dressed up as everything from Jon Snow to Snapchat filters, as ironic Halloween music plays over the speakers on the mantle.

I scan what I can see of the house, until my eyes land on the person I'm looking for - Macy diMaggio. She's standing in the threshold to the kitchen, watching Meatball and some football player set up a keg-stand, but as we get closer, her eyes flip to us and simply light up. 

"Cabreras!" Macy exclaims. "You guys look so nice!"

She's dressed as a boxer, complete with signature double cornrows and a fake black-eye. In her right hand, she holds an orange plastic cup with an unidentifiable coppery liquid inside. Smiling as pleasantly as I can, I thank my friend for the compliment and tell her she looks nice as well. Her reaction surprises me - instead of beaming like she usually does, or even just saying "Thanks!", she leaps over and hugs me.

I let out a groan of shock, before slowly embracing her back, hoping none of her drink sloshes onto my skirt. Although she smells no different than usual - like cotton candy and caramel - I can feel how tense her body is. She's absolutely rigid, completely on an anxious edge... just like I am 90% of the time.

"Are you okay?" I murmur as quietly as I can.

Macy lets go of my back, but keeps her free hand on my arm and gives me a steely smile. "Just peachy," she grits out. "On top of the world. Everything's coming up roses! Secret? I don't have a secret. I'm just- oh, shit."

I don't have enough time to be bewildered by what she just said. From 0 to 100 and down to -50 within a second, my friend's face falls as she catches sight of someone behind us. Her arm drops back to her side as I turn and see Trevor Jolie and CJ Sykes just entering the house, the former looking noticeably uncomfortable and the latter already holding a PBR in his hand.

They evidently both lack creativity, because all they're wearing is their football uniforms. I'm too concerned about what's wrong with Macy to judge them.

"Are you okay?" I echo, glancing between her and her boyfriend. "Is something going on between you and Trev?"

As if he heard me say his name, which he might've, Trevor's dark eyes flicker over to us, and his face loses its color. At the same time, the holiday tunes end and the music momentarily switches to pop as Bad Liar by Selena Gomez comes on.

"Oh! Perfect. Perfect timing." Macy shakes her head and starts backing away. "Just like the song says, I'm a really bad liar. I think I need to go-"

Just like that, she tries to quickly leave our bubble, accidentally running into a fellow cheerleader on the way but eventually pushing past to the dining room, where she disappears into the quickly largening crowd.

I watch her go with wide eyes, before whirling to Kat and saying, "What the hell?"

But Kat is gone. Whether she left a while ago or rushed after Macy without me seeing, my sister is no longer there to react to. Just like I'd feared, I'm alone in a crowded room. I feel my heart start to race, my breathing becoming more labored and heavy, as I suddenly wish that Will were here. If he were here, we'd together be wondering what the hell was up with our friends; he'd go consult Trevor, and I'd comfort Macy, and we'd be able to mend the wound, some way, somehow.

Of course, I think the couple's issues right now come from Trevor's sudden desire to be the best Student Athlete he can be, which comes from the crash. If Will were here, there wouldn't be any angst in the first place; we'd all just be happy together.

God, I miss that.

Before I can delve fully into my sadness, I get a whiff of cologne and hear a deep voice clear their throat behind me. With a shaking breath, I turn and see Will's life-long teammate - and Macy's supposed boyfriend - standing behind me, his hands hanging awkwardly at his sides.

"Hey," I say sheepishly.

"Hey," he says just-as-sheepishly. "Do you, uh... do you know where Macy went?"

I nod in the direction of the dining room. "I saw her go in there. But I don't know if she stayed."

Trevor stands on his tip-toes to peer over the people in the kitchen. Apparently, the search is fruitless, because when he comes back down, his lips form a frown. "I don't see her. Thanks anyway, I guess."

"No problem."

We stand there for a moment.

It's like neither of us want to talk, but we know we probably should. This boy, who had previously been so entrenched in the popular scene, who had assisted Will in all of his victories and spent most parties making out with his just-as-popular cheerleader girlfriend, looked so out of his comfort zone here that he was making me even more uncomfortable by association.

Without thinking about it, I blurt, "Is something going on between you and Macy?"

Trevor's eyes widen. He drags a hand down his tired face before clenching into a fist. "She told you?"

Told me what?!

"No..." I say, trying not to let my curiosity get the better of me. "In fact, she specifically said, 'Secret? I don't have a secret' before muttering something about being a bad liar and leaving the room."

Now, his eyes narrow, as confusion paints his expression. I see him mouth "What?" under his breath, before a guy wearing one of those giant inflatable T-Rex costumes bumps into me from behind. I'm pushed forward uncomfortably close to Trevor, who backs up into a junior that he quickly apologizes to. The party is already too crowded, and out of the corner of my eye, I see the boys' soccer team setting up beer pong on the dining room table. It's only going to get worse from here, and I'm stuck against the wall with my dead boyfriend's best friend.

My heart is pounding against my chest as the music gets louder. What the hell is going on with Trevor and Macy - and what secret is she keeping?

Why do I keep doing these things to myself?

Ever since early September, when I went to Warped Tour and promised the girl I'd befriended there that I'd stop doing self-destructive things to myself, I've been on a better path. I've made up with Veronica and Mama and Macy and my Abuela; I've focused on those that mean something to me, and stayed away from the people that make it worse. But here I am at a house party filled with people that remind me of exactly what I lost, like a football game without the best part.

I've been trying to live, but it's taken me so far back that I've entered into a relapse.

Focus on why you're here, Lila, I tell myself. Don't think about everyone around you. How ashamed would you feel if you left the party now, still dazed and confused, and entered Heaven without a satisfying conclusion to your story?

Will would've done anything to make his friends feel better. You can too.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm my vigorous pulse, and keep my eyes on the boy in front of me. As Trevor turns back around, he grimaces and shakes his head. "I- I shouldn't have come here."

"Then why did you come?"

"Because there's something I have take care of, and I think if I don't do it now, I won't ever be able to." Pained, he closes his eyes, then says breathlessly, "Swear you won't hate me after tonight."

My stomach sways coldly within my gut. It's with this statement that I realize what he's going to say, but I can't bring myself to think it. If my hunch is right, the one person who actually talked to me all these months could end up heartbroken by the end of the night... unless her secret has something to do with this.

"I could never hate you, Trev," I say, sounding like I'm back in middle school. "I could never hate any of you guys."

I watch him warily, wishing I had the diplomacy to talk to people like Will did. Perhaps I'm biased, but it always seemed to me like he knew exactly what to say at any given moment. Sure, a lot of it was kind of corny, but it was better than me constantly talking like I'm on the verge of tears and Trevor speaking vaguely about things without actually explaining what the hell he means.

Shifting uncomfortably within my wings, I feel the hair on the back of my neck stand up as Trevor furrows his eyebrows and says, "Oh. I kind of assumed you already did. Hate us, I mean. Other than that one night with Macy and Meatball, and the lantern festival-" he shakes his head - "I hardly see you talking to anybody but your sister. Not that I see you that much, anyway, but..."

What a sudden change in subject. I suspect he's only trying to avoid what exactly he's hiding, but I'm too startled to care. For months, I thought they - Trevor and Veronica and Meatball and even Macy - hated me. I had no idea it seemed like the other way around.

I guess all those summer days of us ignoring each other... that wasn't just any of our faults. That situation was doomed from the start. How exactly are you supposed to talk to somebody after a death - just call them up and ask how they're hanging? Maybe I was naive to automatically assume they hated me, when all of us were just grieving.

"Oh. I'm so sorry," I apologize, even though I know I don't really need to, because they did the same thing I did. "I've just had a hard time. With everything. And for a while, I thought you guys hated me. I thought - thought maybe you only talked to me all these years because of Will."

Trevor's stony face suddenly reveals a shock of emotion as his mouth parts and his eyes fill with guilt. "Jesus, seriously?"

I nod numbly.

"Oh my God, Lila, no, you were just as much our friend as he was-" he pauses, running a hand through his dreads - "And we're all here for you. None of us truly know what you're going through, but you know we don't judge you for grieving. Especially not me, when I'm still grieving too."

"Oh."

We both look away, and it's awkward again as I watch more people crowd Meatball's house. The song has switched to one I don't recognize, though I can hear the singer saying, "I don't want to be alive", which is too close for comfort to my current situation that it's uncanny.

I knew when Trevor and I talked the evening of the all-nighter that he understood my sadness. But I didn't realize he considered me his friend, too. It makes my whole body tense up, and I can't bring myself to look him in the eye. I thought I could wrap things up tonight - not reboot whole friendships. Will he be one more person to mourn me at my funeral?

"I should go. I need to find Macy..." my friend begins to say, before he trails off as his eyes catch something behind me. My gut lurches further, especially when I turn around to see what he's staring at. Even though I'm following his gaze, he finishes, "Are you aware that Veronica is matching with you? 

Indeed, she is. Not that she's wearing a angel costume, but just the opposite. I watch as the now-melted Ice Queen comes in the front door, fashionably late, with her cronies Alexis and Jenna right behind her. They're in their own costumes: Twitter and Instagram. But Veronica Lourdes, ever unlucky and yet ever stunning, is dressed up as a fiery red devil.

Like me, she's wearing Converse, along with black denim shorts and a laced-up bralette. Once again, her golden hair glows like soft fire in the lighting, complemented by the crimson horns on her head and plastic pitchfork in her hand. Her resting scowl looks perfect on her face, but then she catches eye contact with me, and immediately it fades away into a countenance of surprise and embarrassment.

"No," I finally answer, keeping my stare on the girl. "No, I was not aware of that."

"Oh. Well, then, good luck with that."

I turn back, hoping Veronica won't come over to me, and give Trevor a supportive glance. "Good luck with whatever you're... doing."

Trevor purses his lips. "Thanks."

With a nod, he ducks away into the crowd, off to look for the living mystery that is his girlfriend. I watch him go, but any trace of him is soon gone, and I am left alone again.

Well, except for my estranged best friend, walking determinedly towards me.

"Lila!" Veronica calls as she reaches where I stand, Alexis and Jenna now absent from her sides. "Shit, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to copy you- I didn't realize you were going to be an angel."

She didn't do anything wrong, of course, so I say, "It's fine. I just decided on it today, anyway, so it's just a weird coincidence, I think."

Still, the girl's eyes do not lose their shame. I know it's coming from somewhere else, somewhere a lot deeper, completely separate from the concept of accidentally matching costumes with me. She'll probably feel guilty about the crash for the rest of her life, I think to myself. Just like I'd feel sad about it for the rest of my life, if I had a long life to live.

Remembering the truth of the matter here, I add, "Besides, we match now. It's perfect."

"You're okay with us matching?"

I don't really care is what my mind says. My voice, in hopes of making her feel better, lies, "Yeah. We look put together. Like something straight off of Pinterest."

Veronica frowns, nervously pulling on the ends of her long, cascading hair. "Okay."

"Okay."

Now, it's even more awkward than it was with Trevor earlier. Although we're on better terms, and she even told me how cool my story was at drama club this week, I'm still on edge around Veronica. Sometimes, when I look at her, I see the girl who inadvertently killed my boyfriend. But sometimes, I see the girl who came up to me on the playground in elementary school and asked me with the most sweet politeness if she could be my friend.

It'll take time for things to go back to being anywhere near normal. But time is one commodity I do not have - which I'm glad about, of course, but in situations like this, it makes me a bit regretful. I wish I could witness Veronica and I rebuild our sisterly love... yet, still, I wish more for an end to my anxieties. I need my fate, and I need it soon.

Right now, I just have to leave my relationships as cleanly as I can. I have no other choice.

Hesitantly, Veronica starts to speak again: "I saw you talking to Trevor just now. Are he and Macy... like, good?"

"I don't really know," I say, my nerves like frayed wires. "I was trying to figure that out too."

"Damn." Veronica bites her lip, keeping her eyes on the floor as a trio of sophomore boys pass by and murmur catcalls. Around us, people are progressively getting more drunk, contaminating our personal space and generally being obnoxious. Somehow, a ball from Beer Pong flies past us and almost hits Veronica in the head, but she's too into our conversation to notice. "They haven't talked to me since the lantern festival, which is understandable, but I'm concerned about them. I don't want any more people to be brokenhearted. Do you know where either of them are?"

I turn, trying to inspect my surroundings to see if I can find my friends. Meatball's house has a pretty open floor plan, but nowhere from my point of view do I catch sight of Trevor or Macy, or my sister, either. So I say, "No idea. I saw them go towards the kitchen earlier, but for all I know, they're in the basement by now."

"Will you help me find them?"

"Yeah, sure."

We peel away from the wall and comb through each space, scanning every face for someone who may know where the couple is. They're not in the living room, or the kitchen, or even the basement. Finally, we come back to where we were standing previous, and only then do I get a peek of long dreadlocks, before catching sight of Trevor in his entirety. He's outside the dining room, in Meatball's sunroom, where those that are here to merely socialize and have no intentions of getting drunk usually go to talk. It's relatively full, but in the middle stands said football player, along with Macy, and they're staring at each other.

"V," I say, not realizing how casual I seem as I grab her hand and direct her towards the open sliding glass door. "Look. They're out there."

Veronica's eyes widen as she sees them. "What's happening? What are they doing?"

I breathe in, savoring the feeling of air in my lungs, as stuffy and alcohol-tinted as it is. I know what "the thing" will be tonight, and never has it affected my group of friends this personally. My skin gaining a chill, I say, "I think he's about to break up with her."

✕✕✕✕✕

A/N: Don't mind me, just publishing a Halloween-themed chapter nearly 6 months late, and in the middle of the week :/

This is a cliffhanger, though, and there are two more parts to this whole thing! We'll see what goes down between Trevor and Macy... and then a certain reaper may show up and take Lila to a real party ;)

Anyway, ya girl cannot seem to stay on schedule! But if you read my original author's note, back in the "{details}" chapter, you'd know I called that from the beginning. I'm so sorry, seriously!

I've been going through some writer's block for the past few chapters, but I've been looking forward to this chapter and the next couple since the beginning of the book, so hopefully I can write them quickly! There's only a few more chapters until the end! Thank you so much if you've stuck with this book even through its many late updates.

Until next time, positive vibes! Stay awesome!

xoxo, Athena

✕✕✕✕✕