Page 75 of The King of Halloween
Round about the boutonnieres being yellow to bring out his eyes, Adam shouted, “Fine. Yes. I have a date with Mr. Choudhary.”
“Dear.” His mother’s cheeks turned pink. “I think you can call him by his first name, especially if you’ve already kissed.”
Holy hell. Adam’s legs melted into the sidewalk. He kept peering around, hoping to god the neighboring shop owners couldn’t hear this. What would they say if they found out he was with someone, and doing a hell of a lot more than kissing? Was the King of Halloween allowed to date a man? Or would they demand his crown on the spot?
“Well. I need to be off. We’re raising money for the VFW hall. That poor thing. Went up like a match.”
“Yeah. Sure, mom,” Adam mumbled, his brain churning overtime with old-timey illustrations of him being tied to the stake. No, put in the stocks, while they lobbed apples at his pumpkin head.
That fear never left.
It went hand in hand with freaking out over whether his crush liked him back. Then came the ‘Oh god, what if he hates me because I like him?’ Followed quickly by, ‘What if people hate me because we like each other?’
No matter how old he got, how far that needle moved, he couldn’t escape that scraggly fourteen-year-old trapped in his locker pleading for anyone to find him. With so many previous boyfriends, it was easier for him to keep cagey about his relationship with the outside world.
But for Raj…
Adam’s pocket rang out.
“Damn it!”
He was late for the meeting. Tossing the broom back inside to an annoyed Chrissy, Adam took off.
?
What should I make for dinner?
“We’re still looking.”
There’s my world-famous Bolognese sauce. Though, does Raj eat red meat? The only thing I’ve seen him devour was a caramel apple. Rather hard to woo while our hands are covered in sticky sugar.
“What about down in—?”
“Everything’s booked up.”
“Everything?”
“We’ve only got a week’s notice.”
Steaks. That’s a proper date night meal. Though, then I’m back to the issue of red meat. He said he’s not a practicing Sikh, but…do they have any dietary restrictions? Why didn’t I ask?
“Maybe we just cancel the masquerade this year?”
“And, what, refund the tickets?”
“It’s an idea.”
No. Gnocchi in pomodoro sauce!
Adam smacked his hands together and cried out, “I’ve got it!”
All five of the committee members swiveled to stare at him. Crickets chirped from the empty rows of chairs.
“Well…?” Marianne asked.
“Well, what?”
“You’ve figured out how to solve our Halloween masquerade problem.”
