Page 89 of Bad For Me (Rock Canyon, Idaho 5)

Callie forgot what she was going to say and looked over the costume. For the first time that day, she didn’t make a joke.

It was perfect.

What would Everett say when he saw her in it?

“HEY, MAN, THANKS for coming.”

Everett walked into the crowded community center with Eric Henderson and looked around at the strobe lights and purple bulbs casting an eerie glow in the darkened room. After Callie had called to cancel their date, Everett decided to surprise her at the ball, but he hadn’t wanted to show up alone. Eric had agreed to come, and sporting a Jason hockey mask, a leather trench coat, and ripped-up clothes, he was terrifying. Everett searched for the DJ booth in the dark, his face feeling stiff under all the zombie makeup.

Eric rubbed his hands together. “No problem. Women running around in sexy costumes? Who would miss this?”

Finally, Everett spotted Callie standing with a woman who was wearing black cat ears, a mask, and little else.

“Come on.” Everett started toward the booth, which was under a huge inflatable cemetery sign and surrounded by several tombstones. As music blasted through the room, he looked over the dancing couples, spotting at least four Little Red Riding Hoods, and one person dressed as a urinal. Classy.

Eric followed behind him before tapping his shoulder and pointing to line of girls in short, tight costumes, dancing up close and personal with one another, but Everett looked away. He wasn’t interested in anyone but Callie.

Once they reached the booth, the masked cat turned toward them, her blonde hair curling around the cat ears, but Everett barely glanced at her. Instead, his gaze devoured Callie, whose dark blonde hair fell down her back in waves, shining in the strobe lights. She wore a simple sleeveless knit top, her arms bare and beckoning to him to stroke her soft skin.

“What’s up, kitty cat?” Eric yelled to the other woman, tipping his mask back.

The kitty cat wrinkled her pert nose under her mask, and Everett realized it was Gracie McAllister.

“Hey, Buffy, can I borrow your stake?” Gracie held her hand out to Callie, staring Eric down through her mask. “I need to stab something undead.”

Everett understood then and chuckled when he saw Callie wave the wooden stake in the air. A few days ago, when he’d been inspecting her DVD collection, he’d been surprised to find a mint-condition box set of the Buffy the Vampire Slayer series. The rest of the shelf had been filled with comedies and kids movies, but for that one set.

“What’s this?” he’d asked.

“It’s Buffy. You’ve never seen Buffy?”

“I’m sure I’ve seen an episode or two, but I thought you didn’t like violent movies.”

“I don’t like serial killer, slasher films, but Buffy is different. It’s funny, quirky, and no matter what obstacles she faces, she always wins. She’s not perfect; she makes mistakes, but she always saves the day.”

That conversation had said so much about her, it had stuck with him.

“Gracie Lou, you know stabbing me is that last thing you want to do.” Eric was loudly laying on the charm, but by the look on Gracie’s face, she wasn’t buying his baloney.

Gracie huffed loud enough to be heard over the blasting music and waved at Callie. “I’ll see you later.”

She started to walk away but during the lull between songs, Eric yelled after her, “Why do you fight the inevitable? You know you want to have adorable kittens with me, pussy cat!” Gracie stuck her middle finger in the air, and Eric laughed, looking at Everett. “That woman is secretly in love with me.”

“Must be some secret.” Everett focus shifted back to Callie, who kept glancing between them curiously. “I’ll see you later, Eric. Okay?”

“Yeah, sure, ditch your wingman.” Eric held his hand over his heart. “That hurts, man.”

“You don’t know what hurt is . . . yet,” Everett said with mock ferocity.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. It’s cool; I’ve got my own game to run,” Eric said.

“Pretty sure the game isn’t interested,” Everett said.

“The fat lady hasn’t sung yet, my friend.”

Everett caught Callie looking his way again, but she still hadn’t smiled or waved. It was dark in the place, other than the strobe lights. Could she not tell it was him?

He headed around the side of the DJ booth, and she held up her hand as if to stop him.

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