Page 182 of Knot Baked Out For This
Maybe it's just proof that something's happening worth talking about.
And the best changing room disaster in thrift store history.
CHAPTER 33
Haunted Hearts & Hayrides
~HAZEL~
Halloween night in Oakridge is when the town collectively agrees that scaring people for fun is totally normal and not at all psychotic.
"You look edible," Levi announces as I step out of my apartment, and I nearly trip down the stairs.
"That's not the compliment you think it is!"
"It absolutely is." He grins, taking in my outfit—the emerald sweater dress from the thrift store, paired with thigh-high socks that seemed like a good idea until I realized they make me look like I'm cosplaying as someone with actual confidence, and a pumpkin-colored scarf he insisted I wear.
"The scarf clashes," I point out.
"The scarf is festive," he corrects. "Plus, I bought it, so you have to wear it. Pack law."
"That's not pack law."
"It is now. I'm making it official."
"You can't just make up pack laws!"
"Watch me. Pack law number one: Hazel wears the scarf."
Rowan and Luca emerge from the bakery where they've been helping close up—or "helping" in Levi's case, which mostlymeant eating the leftover Halloween cookies and getting in Mila's way.
"She's wearing the socks," Luca observes, and something in his voice makes me want to pull the dress down even though it's a perfectly reasonable length.
"The socks are warm," I defend.
"The socks are dangerous," Rowan corrects, amber eyes doing that thing where they go dark and hungry. "We should go before I decide we're staying in."
"But the hayride!" Levi protests. "I already bought tickets! Four tickets! Non-refundable tickets!"
"Then we'd better go," I say quickly, because the way Rowan's looking at me suggests clothes are about to become optional and we have plans.
Haunted hayride plans. Not... other plans. Though maybe later—NO. Focus, Hazel.
The festival grounds are transformed into what can only be described as Halloween thrown up everywhere in the best possible way. Bonfires dot the landscape like flaming punctuation marks. Fog machines work overtime to create an "atmosphere" that mostly just makes everyone cough. The air smells like cinnamon, smoke, and that particular combination of hay and terror that only October can produce.
"Caramel apple?" Luca appears with four of them, because apparently he's been conditioned to buy everything in sets of four now.
"It's going to get stuck in my teeth," I protest, taking one anyway.
"That's half the fun," Levi says, immediately getting caramel on his nose because spatial awareness is not his strong suit.
"How do you get it on your nose? It's physically improbable!"
"I'm talented."
We wander through the booths—ring toss run by teenagers who are definitely high, face painting that's more like face abstracting, and a "guess your weight" game that Rowan forbids me from playing because "that's just asking for trouble."
"I could win a giant stuffed spider!" I protest.
