Page 2 of Daddy's Treat

The triple-I’s as I’ve been calling them in my head look me up and down then burst out laughing.

“OMG, she totally fell for it!” Candi is the spokesperson for the group. “She looks like a five-year-old!”

Lucy and Tricia both snicker at her little joke. I’ve been duped. It’s not the first time. You’d think I would be used to this kind of thing, but it doesn’t ever get easier to be the butt of someone’s cruel joke. My cheeks flush with a mixture of anger and embarrassment. If I were the crying type, I would totally be crying right now. I’m made of sterner stuff.

Teenage me would’ve totally cried, but I’m a twenty-year-old who is one and a half short semesters from graduating and moving on to medical school. Or veterinary school. I haven’t decided yet. I graduated high school two years early after skipping third grade, then skipping sixth grade as well. Yeah, yeah, the nerdy bookworm is also smarter than the average Joe. Another strike against me when it comes to the mean girls.

I call upon all my years of putting up with girls like these and find my inner sarcastic b-word as my grandma would call it. Well, she’d use the actual word, but I prefer to not curse. Anyway, I dig deep and find that tiny spark of defiance, the one I rarely resort to as it goes against my whole no making waves thing.

“Nice costume’s girls. I must’ve missed the updated memo that we were supposed to dress like… what are you guys? Hookers? Strippers, maybe?” I give them my version of Lucy’s saccharine sweet smile.

I can tell they are all strategizing their attacks, but shiny, pretty things distract them, and when the football jocks saunter up, they all become preening fangirls. I have no doubt that I’ll pay for my little remark later. Oh well, just another day in the life of Penelope Louise Cooper.

“We doing this thing or what?” one of the jocks says, throwing his arm over Sandi. Mandi gives her a scathing look. Apparently, Mandi already peed all over that dude’s shoes or something because she looks like Sandi just took her favorite toy.

“Absolutely,” Lucy says, batting her fake lashes at Mr. QB… Lance or something. I don’t really keep up with football.

We make our way to the entrance of the maze and are greeted by a guy dressed like a vampire. It takes me less than a second to realize I’ve been fooled in more ways than one tonight. This isn’t just a corn maze. It’s a freakin’ haunted corn maze. And from the periodic screams coming from somewhere within the maze, I can tell you my excitement level for this thing has gone from non-existent to rather-burn-in-the-pits-of-hell-while-having-tea-with-satan-himself.

I take a couple steps away from the group, hoping I can just slip away without anyone noticing. Too bad I don’t have eyes in the back of my head because I bump right into Tricia and some guy she’s sucking face with. She gives me a dirty look, the smiles the fakest, most devious smile I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing.

“Where are you running off to Penny-pie?”

“Uhm… I think I’m going to just sit this one out. Wait by the car. I totally forgot I’m allergic to corn.” I’m not, and the lie is so false on my tongue the guy who I will forever call Hyena because he cackles just like one. And no, I’m not being mean, I just don’t know his name, and will probably never know his name. So, I make up names for people.

I don’t exactly know how it happens. It’s honestly kind of a blur, but somehow, I end up passing through the gates of hell, a.k.a. the entrance to the corn maze. Being the height deficient person that I am, it was easy enough for them to herd me right into the maze. I don’t go quietly. I do protest. But each of my protests is met with laughter and teasing.

A high-pitched scream echoes through the night, and I jump. Tricia and Hyena laugh. “Oh, this is going to besomuch fun.” Tricia sounds absolutely giddy at the idea that we’re about to get attacked by monsters.

2

Penny

Despite tryingto stay in the middle of the pack, it seems like the safest option. I can’t see anything over the taller, broader bodies of the two jocks I’m currently hiding behind. It’s a sweet deal. I’ll admit that I’m walking with my eyes closed. That’s the real reason I’m not seeing any of the horrors. If I can’t see them, they can’t scare me. I roll my eyes at my own lame excuse. I can still hear the screams and the growls of whatever is lurking in the shadows. I don’t think keeping my eyes closed is doing a darn thing for helping me not be afraid. My heart is pounding in my chest, and I’m on the verge of hyperventilating.

I don’t have any idea how long we’ve been wandering through the maze, but we turn several corners, and then I notice that I am no longer hearing the shuffling feet of my group. I stop dead in my tracks and force my eyes open.

I’m alone.

Oh, chicken and waffles. Walking with closed eyes seemed like a solid plan at the time. I should have known better than to trust those people after the two tricks they’d already played on me tonight. I chew my lip nervously and slowly backtrack, being as quiet as possible. Maybe I can hear them. They aren’t a particularly quiet group. After ten minutes of wandering around aimlessly, I realize they left me.

I nearly jump out of my shoes when another scream fills the cold night. It was close. Just around the next corner. I almost turn back, but I’m certain the way out has to be this direction. I have to face whatever it is that’s waiting for me.

You can do this, Penelope. You’re a Cooper. We aren’t weaklings.Well, most of us aren’t. There are exceptions to the rule: i.e.,me.

I take a deep breath and straighten up to my full five feet. I got this. I creep forward. I don’t know if it’s worse actually knowing where the spooks are or if it’s better to walk stupidly through the night, totally unaware of when the scary stuff is going to happen. The anticipation is definitely worse. I’d rather be ignorant. In this case, knowledge isnotpower. Nope. Not at all.

The turn is only two small steps away. I pull up my figurative big girl panties and rush around the corner. Nothing jumps out at me. My breath comes out in a rush. All this stress is going to give me a heart attack, or an ulcer.

Just when I think I’m in the clear. It happens. The corn parts, and he jumps out at me. I stand frozen, staring in abject horror at my very own personal nightmare. A clown. It had to be a freaking clown. Not just any clown. It’s the most realistic Pennywise costume I have ever seen. Complete with red balloon. When he smiles, I can see he went all out, even his teeth are movie accurate. Well, to the new movie anyway.

My brain is screaming at my feet to move. To run the peach fuzz away. My fight or flight response is obviously on the fritz because all I’m doing is staring at the clown. He keeps smiling his sadistic smile. It’s beyond disturbing. Then the unthinkable happens. He walks toward me, offering the balloon. I’m pretty sure he’s quoting the famous ‘we all float’ line.

That snaps me out of my stupor, and I take off running full speed the other direction. I don’t look where I’m going. Two more monsters jump out at me, and I scream appropriately but don’t stop. I don’t know what makes me do it, but I make the same fatal mistake every girl in every single scary movie has ever made—or so I’ve heard—I turn around. Pennywise is chasing me. His macabre red balloon floating behind him. I crap kittens. No, really, if it was possible. I would be crapping cute little fuzz balls right now.

I turn another corner and another until I can no longer see him behind me. I have to stop. My lungs are burning from exertion, and my heart is pounding. I’ve almost caught my breath when he turns the corner. That smile is back on his face. I’m not frozen in fear this time. I turn on my heel and run. I’m too busy looking over my shoulder to make sure he isn’t catching up with me when I turn a corner and smack right into a hard chest. I bounce off it like a ping pong ball, and if it weren’t for his quick reflexes, I would be flat on my back.

“Whoa,” a deep voice rumbles above me. “You alright?”

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