Four of a Kind Part 7

Reece and Rhiannon retreat to the attic after dinner, probably complaining about our parents while they finish some of the tidying up they have insisted on before we can start moving our stuff up there this weekend. At least that gives me my bedroom to myself.

I crawl into bed, halfheartedly promising myself that I won't fall asleep and pull out my phone, already feeling a nap coming on. Today ended up being a way more exciting day than I would've guessed, and I want to tell Nadine about all of it. Everything from my presentation, going out to Lizzie's, to my family being insane. This is the kind of stuff that only she will ever understand.

Reagan: Hey. Want to play a CoA? Had a crazy day.

Nadine: Can't get to my computer right now. What's up?

So much for that idea. How is it she never has time to be at her computer anymore?

Reagan: Nevermind. I'll fill you in later.

I frown down at my phone, disappointed but feeling the call of my pillow more and more. If Nadine's not going to be around, there's really no reason not to sleep. I lay down, but my phone buzzes again.

Nadine: No, come on. Tell me.

Part of me isn't all that convinced she cares at all, but before I let my eyes drift shut, trusting Rhiannon to wake me up in the next little while, I type out everything. It ends up being a solid wall of text and there are still things that get left out.

I tuck my phone under my pillow and drift off. Sleep takes me quickly and lasts until I hear two sets of footsteps shuffling down the attic stairs, announcing my sisters return.

I glance at my phone. Looks like I was only able to get a half-hour sleep, but since I'll be back in bed soon enough, I drag myself up. I swear, teenagers definitely need way more than eight hours of sleep, but the rest of the world seems to disagree.

A notification of the top my phone tells me there's a new text message. But it's from an unknown number, not Nadine. I double back to the last message I sent, making sure it went through. It did. It's been read. But she hasn't said anything back. It hasn't really been all that long, but usually I can count on Nadine to at least offer a sympathetic ear and to rant right along with me about my family. Since both of our families are equally dysfunctional, we both always act as a sounding board for the other when we need someone on our side.

It's getting harder and harder to squash that voice that's telling me I'm not a priority for her anymore. I flip over to the new text message.

Unknown number: Hey, Reagan. It's Kent. Jen had your number from our group contact sheet. Just wanted to make sure you had mine in case you try to find us tomorrow at lunch. I mean... No pressure.

No way.

Kent just messaged me, completely out of the blue. As if this day hasn't been up and down enough already. My stomach does a little flip-flop. It's silly, there's still so much I don't know about him, but it's getting harder and harder to deny that I'm getting a bit of a crush on him.

"What's up?" Rhiannon asks as she comes into the room and sits down at her desk.

"Nothing," I say and shove my phone back out of sight. "How are things going upstairs?"

"It's so close to done, but I swear we're finding dust everywhere. There's a lot of room up there, and it looks like no one who has ever lived in this house has used it for anything. I don't even think it would take that much work to turn it into two new bedrooms, potentially even add a bathroom."

I sit up straighter. One of the first things I considered when the move to Fairview was announced was the possibility of each of us getting our own bedrooms. I would love not having to always share my s.p.a.ce with one of my sisters. And not having to share a bathroom with all of them. That would be a freaking dream come true. But no, this house, which is twice as big as our old one, still only has three bedrooms. It has an extra room downstairs, but Dad claimed that for his office.

And Rhiannon's right, the attic is huge. It's almost as big as the entire second floor. There would be more than enough room to fit some extra bedrooms up there. "Have you mentioned it to Mom and Dad? Maybe we can get one last favor out of their residual guilt." I don't point out that Rhiannon may have killed any chance of that today.

"No point. The town owns the house, not Mom and Dad. So we probably can't do any major changes to the property while we live here, even if we live here for twenty years. And you know Mom's never going to do anything to risk p.i.s.sing off her precious town council. She would just come up with some sort of bulls.h.i.t excuse about how sharing bedrooms builds character. As if. Sharing two bedrooms between four people just builds insanity and claustrophobia."

I slump back down but only long enough to shimmy out of the jeans I fell asleep in before changing into pajama pants. I've long since gotten used to changing in front of my sisters. And modesty isn't a thing when you're already stuck with identical bodies.

But I can't shake the idea of having my own room. After this, it'll be off to college where we'll all be stuck sharing bedrooms with strangers in dorms. And then, we'll probably have roommates for years until we can afford to get our own places. Some of us might move in with significant others even before then. This could be our only chance to get our own rooms. And seeing as we literally started out sharing a womb, this is something that should have happened a long time ago.

I do my best to shrug the whole thing off, not wanting to antagonize Rhiannon farther. But I'm not letting the idea go. We finally live somewhere that has enough s.p.a.ce for our bizarre, big family. If making the most of that is how the universe pays us back for having to leave our old house and our friends behind, I'm determined to make it happen. How? I have absolutely no idea, but thankfully I know three equally motivated people who will probably be game to help me figure it out.

Chapter 11.

I don't remember it ever being this cold in October back home. The second after I get out of the van I regret not at least throwing a sweater in my bag.

Dad drives away once I'm free of the curb, since most of my family isn't arriving until after dark. Once I decided to go with Kent and his friends-I'm still struggling to think of them as my friends-it actually took very little work to get the rest of my family on board for the town's Halloween event in the square. The curiosity around Fairview's festivities was too much to resist.

My costume still shoved in my bag, I walk across the square to where I promised to meet everyone. There aren't many people out yet, but intricate jack-o-lanterns sit every few s.p.a.ces, portraying everything from typical geometric faces to intricate character designs. Booths line the north edge of the square selling everything from carnival food to handmade jewelry to snacks made in the shapes of ghosts and vampires.

Every time I make eye contact with someone, I can practically sense their gaze following me as I make my way by. Nearly two months into living in Fairview and I still hate being this recognizable.

I spot Kent's hair first, but quickly see Rosie and Frankie talking nearby, and Jen making her way toward them from the opposite direction. I double my speed and do my best to keep my head down. I spent the last week hanging out with all of them during our lunch periods, but I still get nervous every time I see them. It's almost inevitable that I'm going to screw this all up.

"You're not wearing a costume," Kent says, throwing his hands up as soon as I reach the group. "You promised you would. It's the whole point of tonight!" He was already fully decked out in a home made Captain America outfit that fit perfectly with Rosie's black widow and Frank's incredibly intricate Vision costume. Jen didn't seem to be dressed up either until I took a closer look. She's wearing a b.u.t.ton up plaid shirt and a h.e.l.lo my name is sticker' that declares her Joss Whedon.

"I've got something," I promise. "But I need to find somewhere to change here. It's a thing with my sisters. I couldn't let them see what I was going as."

"Your costume's that bad?" Rosie said, looking up from her phone. She was smirking a little, but the expression didn't look unkind, only teasing.

"The costume party idea was half the reason my sisters decided to come. Not being recognized during a big down event has its plus sides. But then we somehow also decided to try and get one over on one another as well. So we're all dressing up in a way that cover's our faces."

"So, then what?" Jen asks. "You try to figure out if you still recognize each other without just looking for your own face?"

"Something like that. I'm not sure if there was really a point, but I'm curious to see how long it will take me to do it." There was never a doubt in my mind that I'd be able to track down each of my sisters eventually. I know them by so much more than what they look like.

Soon after, I stepped out of the women's bathroom at Lizzie's dressed head to toe in a dinosaur onesie I'd picked up a few days before. I'd always been terrible at costumes, and having to come up with something last minute hadn't exactly led to my rising to the occasion. I popped on a facemask of a T-rex that didn't at all match with the stegosaurus I thought the onesie had been modeled after. At least I wouldn't have to worry about a sweater anymore.

"Umm, nice costume," Rosie said as I made my big entrance, clearly not meaning a word of it.

"What are you even dressed as?" Frank asked.

"Frankenstein's dinosaur?" I answered, feeling pathetic. "I may have been a little more focused on keeping my ident.i.ty a secret than winning the costume contest." Besides, my family would have never guessed I'd be able to go out in public dressed up in something this sad looking. On the other hand, they had all seen me go to school last year dressed up as a book, with cardboard stuck to each of my arms and paper glued all over my clothes, so their expectations for my costume couldn't be all that high.

"Well, if you're sure you want to go out in public like that..." Jen trails off, her eyes giving me the once over. For a second, I really consider sc.r.a.pping the whole idea. If I just ditch the mask, at least I'll look somewhat pa.s.sable.

"Don't listen to her," Rosie interrupts. "No one is going to know it's you anyway, right? Isn't that the whole point? It's just a costume, and it sounds like things are starting to pick up out there."

It isn't hard to hear that she's right. Someone has turned on the music, and the square is quickly filling with people. There's even set up a station to bob for apples, like this town is trying to hit every Halloween cliche all in one night. Back home, no one would have ever gone along with something like that, too worried about all the things that could go wrong or how someone with bad intentions might have tried to pull something, but here, a line is already forming.

"So, where's this candy I was promised?" I ask. A few minutes later, for only five dollars, we each have a goody bag filled to overflowing with some of my favorite treats. It's been a few years since I've been out trick-or-treating, so this is my best haul in a while, and I make a note to go back for seconds before I leave. I've only brought a twenty to spend, but I'm already sure I'll eat through my entire bag by the time I leave, and want to have some to bring to school next week.

Already, my eyes are on full alert, scanning the crowd for anyone who might be related to me. No one immediately grabs my attention, but the night is still young, and I'm determined to come away from it holding the crown of most observant Donovan.

"Boo!" A voice calls from directly behind me, making me jump straight into the air.

I turn to find Kent, holding out some cotton candy. "Sorry. Didn't realize that would actually scare you." He hands me the snack as a peace offering.

"Let's just say that Halloween isn't exactly my ideal holiday. I can't even watch scary movies, so the terrifying the c.r.a.p out of people part of the holiday isn't my thing." I take a mouthful of pink cotton candy and hum with happiness as it melts in my mouth. "The candy part though, that I can get behind."

"Wait, no scary stuff? Does that mean you're not going to do the haunted house with us? It's the best part of the whole night. Every year, a ton of people sign up, hoping to get on the committee to do the Halloween House. They pull half of the volunteers from the high school for the community service requirement, and the other half are just super enthusiastic adults. Every year gets better and better as everyone tries to outdo the people that went before them. Last year they made everyone take off their shoes before going in the house, saying that Mrs. Sangiti made that a rule of using her house. Then they covered an entire room in spaghetti noodles."

I blink at him. "How is that scary?"

"No idea. But it was gross so people loved it."

I squirm a little at the idea of getting spaghetti stuck between my toes. No thank you. "Sounds like something I would be happy to miss."

"Boo," he calls again, but this time sounds like a jeering crowd. "That's no fun."

We rejoin our group, not saying anything else about the haunted house, but it's already taking over my every thought. The idea of people jumping out at me with chainsaws and fake fangs doesn't sound like any kind of fun I'm interested in, but I can already feel my willpower crumbling. I don't want to be left behind.

The sound of familiar laughter nearby grabs my attention. I look around, scanning the crowd until my eyes find the face I already knew I was looking for. Reece is standing in a big group of people, mostly guys, but also a couple of girls I don't recognize, and howling with laughter, almost doubled over. She's dressed as what I can only guess is some kind of fairy princess, judging by the crown and the wings, but the rest of her clothes is the same stuff she usually wore to parties back home-jeans and a tight t-shirt. A small mask, which was probably just supposed to cover her eyes to begin with, has already been moved up to sit atop her hair. So much for trying to hide her ident.i.ty, but she's clearly enjoying the attention.

Frowning, I turn away and try to jump into a conversation about the latest episode of some show I've never heard of. I make a mental note to check if it's on Netflix so I can try to get caught up before the second person in ten minutes sneaks up behind me.

"Reagan, I know that's you. I could practically feel you staring at me through that dino mask of yours."

I turn around to stick out my tongue before remembering she can't see my face through the mask anyway, and find Reece making a face at me.

"Like you were so hard to figure out," I counter. "You didn't even try."

"The mask was itchy," she says with a shrug.

"Is everyone else here?" I ask.

"No idea. Rachel's brother drove us over. Reilly, Mom and Dad were still at home when I left."

I want to ask where Rhiannon went, but Reece has already left to go back to her friends. I realize how little I know about the people my sisters are making friends with since we moved here. Before, I knew all of their friends almost as well as I knew my own since everything from birthday parties to movie nights to school dances usually ended up combining multiple groups into one big one. Now, I don't know who any of these people are. At least Reece would have had to have seen me here, standing around with a group of my own. If only I'd managed to have her turn up at a moment where everyone was laughing hysterically at one of my jokes. Not that I'd had one of those moments yet, but it could happen.

Before I know it, Kent is leading everyone over to the Mclusky house, where this year's Halloween House has taken over the otherwise colonial looking home. A graveyard marks the front lawn, and lights flash in each of the windows, occasionally revealing the silhouette of a knife wielding man. My heart starts racing all over again as I scan the area for anything that might want to jump out at me. I know nothing in there would really hurt me, but I won't know what's coming for me either. There's bound to be something in there that will give me nightmares beyond the initial heart attack it gives me inside.

"Who's ready to go?" Kent says, wiggling his shoulders like an overexcited flight attendant. Frank lets out a groan in response, but everyone else claps and hoots excitedly. I have a brief shimmer of hope where I think maybe Frank will stay out with me, but he steps forward to follow everyone else.

The house looms over me, but I'm resigned to going in, not sure if I'll be able to live down chickening out. No one has even looked back to make sure I was going with them, and as sad as it is, I don't want them to go through without me and create more memories I wouldn't be a part of.

"Only four at a time," the man at the door says, moving his scythe down to block my way before I can enter through the front door.

Relief and disappointment collide in my gut. At least I don't have to go in. Everyone inside stops to look at me. "No worries then. I'm too much of a pansy for this anyway." That's it, the universe has decided for me, and I'm totally okay with not going in.

"No way!" Kent says, ducking under the scythe to rejoin me. "We'll go in the next group."

"Thanks," I chirp out. I'm still getting used to being around Kent with his friends as a buffer. Now I'm going to stand out here with Kent and not make an idiot of myself. All before having to deal with strangers jumping out at me in a haunted house. The nightmares just keep coming.

Kent is standing right beside me, his arm inches from mine, and I try to remind myself to breathe normally.

Neither of us say anything as we wait for our turn to go inside the house. I try to follow every shriek, yell and howl that comes from inside. I'll take any clue I can get about what's coming next. But the antic.i.p.ation is only making things worse. And my brain can't decide what I should obsess over more right now, the house or Kent.

Kent. Kent. Kent.

I wish my stupid brain hadn't even let me think about him. Wasn't it in hardcore survival mode? Thinking about boys should have been its lowest priority.

Curse my stupid, teenaged hormones!

I glance behind me to find no one else waiting to go inside the house yet. Which means it will be just Kent and I, alone. It also means there will only be two targets for anyone inside the house intent on scaring incoming guests. If I shriek or pa.s.s out or something, there's no way Kent won't notice. We're already failing at small talk. It's hard to see this situation getting any better once a little mayhem and fake murder gets thrown in.

The undeniable sound of Rosie's laugh comes from above us and I almost jump right out of my skin and go running in the opposite direction, but instinct and terror keep me glued to the spot. She's laughing, not screaming out in pain. Relax.

A couple in their early twenties joins the line behind us, blocking my escape route anyway. At least I don't have to worry about being alone with Kent yet. It's something I want eventually, but maybe when the stakes are a little lower.

This is not how I imagined any part of tonight going!

I kind of wish my sisters were here with me. Maybe not Reilly since she's as big of a baby about this stuff as I am, but Rhiannon and Reece would be way better at standing their ground, probably scaring off anyone before they got close enough to touch me, or laughing at the ridiculousness of it all and making the whole thing seem like less of a big deal.

"Hey, are you okay?" Kent asks, glancing down at me. For the first time I really notice how tall he is, and for half a second it's enough to distract me from what's coming next.

I shrug, trying to seem uninterested in everything going on around me. At least my mask hides just how sweaty my hairline is getting. "I'm fine. This will all be over soon, right?"

"You make it sound like we're about to die. This is supposed to be fun. If you really hate the idea, I promise I won't give you a hard time if you don't come in. I'll just make Rosie go again with me. Sounds like she's having fun."

I seriously consider taking him up on his offer. But the couple behind us has already started making out, and I know that there really is nothing inside that house that can hurt me. Even if my nerves don't quite believe my head on that one. All I have to do is go through the house, then it's over.

This is my chance to get one-on-one time with Kent. Which is what I want. I've come up with so many ways the two of us could get some time together and the fear part of my brain is trying to ruin everything.

"You're up," the doorman says, raising his scythe ominously, an effect ruined by the gum he's smacking.

"Are we doing this? It's your call." Kent smiles, and I really do believe him that he won't give me a hard time if I decide not to go through with this. But it's that very same smile that has me wanting to follow him into the haunted house, or right across the state if he asks me to.

I should probably start with the haunted house and see how that goes.

Taking off my mask, I scrunch it up in my fists to give me something to hold on to. I'm going to do this, but I'm going to do it with a clear field of vision. "Okay." I nod. "I'm in."

Kent grins, and together we head inside.

My can-do att.i.tude shoots right out the window by the time the first plastic skeleton is flung from its hiding place to swoop over my head. I dig my nails into my hand to keep myself from yelling out, but find I'm actually okay. I knew something like that was coming, and the effect isn't nearly as scary as I'd been preparing myself for.

"Do skeletons even fly?" Kent asks as our group moves on from the first room to the next.

I'm too busy looking for clues about what's coming next to answer but the people behind us have already started mocking the flying skeleton.

The next room is covered in toilet paper, making it harder to see too far inside of what is clearly the kitchen. But not hard enough to see that I can't make out the black clad body of the person standing maybe five feet ahead of me. I shift back, pretending to get distracted so that Kent will be the one in the lead.

There's no way he doesn't see the person reaching toward him, even in the gloom of the poorly lit room, but Kent pretends not to, pointedly looking everywhere but straight ahead.