Page 15 of The Hallows Boys

“Okay, yes.” She drops her fork. “Do you want to hang out tonight?”

“Sure.” I smile. “What do you want to do?”

“Uhh...” She thinks, dropping her elbow to the table so she can hold her head up. “We could go to a party or something.”

“A party?” I drop my mouth open in faux disbelief. “You?”

She rolls her eyes, her nostrils flaring. “Never mind.”

I laugh, throwing my head back. “How are we supposed to find a party? We don’t have any friends.”

She snorts. “I forget that you’re not from here sometimes. There’s only one place kids go to party in Blackmore, Sage, and that’s the cemetery.”

My eyes go wide. “Oh, Jesus take the wheel.”

Juliet laughs at me, stabbing her food with her fork again. “Buckle up, buttercup. We’re going to party in a graveyard.”

* * *

Istare at myself in the mirror, sighing when I realize how I evenlookdifferent now. Instead of getting completely dolled up, I decided to wrap my hair into a bun and let little wisps of hair curl around my face to frame my features. I don’t remember a single time in L.A. that I would have even considered wearing my hair up for a night out. It was always curls, extensions, and full glam.

There’s a twinge of sadness in my gut when I think about how much effort was put into things before, especially since it all slipped away so easily and ended up meaning nothing in the end.

I mean, it mattered to me at the time – but now I don’t give a shit.

I’m feeling anxious, but at the same time, oddly carefree. Like I could stop a bullet with my bare hands or something, likeI’munstoppable. If I can get through the last month of my life, what can really hurt me?

Numb. That’s the word.

Numb to the pain, desperate for something to penetrate the surface of my exterior and finally show me that I can feel again.

“You goin’ out, Sage?” My grandmother’s voice has me turning around to face where she’s standing in my doorway, and I slip my feet into a pair of high-top sneakers as I meet her gaze.

“Yeah, Juliet invited me to hang out, if that’s okay?”

My grandmother smiles at me, nodding her head. “If y’all end up goin’ down to those crypts, you be careful, alright? Keep your wits about you. Blackmore ain’t all that it seems on the surface.” She cocks her brow. “You hear me?”

“Gran, I’m from L.A., I can handle anything. But don’t worry about me, I’m a smart girl.” I wink at her. “How do you know about the parties down in the cemetery?”

She chuckles as she comes closer, reaching out a hand to stroke my hair. “Ain’t much that gets by me, Sage. I grew up here too, not much has changed since I was a girl.”

“Wasn’t the cemetery built when Blackmore was founded? Where did you guys sit back in the 1800s when it was empty?” I grin, teasing her.

She clicks her tongue. “You hush now, girl. I ain’t that old.”

I laugh, but the doorbell ringing interrupts our playful moment, making my grandmother pull away from me and turn to the door.

“That must be your friend. I’ll let her in.” She casts a glance at me once more before she leaves my sight. “You be careful tonight, Sage.”

Her ominous tone has me wanting to grasp for information, like she’s hinting at something that I’m not quite catching onto. It feels like everyone in Blackmore has their own secrets, and my grandmother seems to as well.

I shake off the creeping feeling raking over my skin, eager to let loose and enjoy the night ahead.

“Hey, hey,” Juliet says as she walks through my bedroom door. I bend down to tuck the laces of my shoes in, giving her a smile.

I like Juliet. She’s the complete opposite to everyone I knew in California, nothing like the people I surrounded myself with. She’s reserved, quieter, and completely content being alone. I can tell she has somewhat of a dark past, with the way she moves around the hallways and avoids any unnecessary communication with peers, and curiosity snakes its way through me when I ponder what could possibly be inside her head.

“My mom won’t even notice I’m gone, so we’re free to stay out as late as we want.” She sighs as she falls down on my bed, pulling her bag onto her lap. My brows pull down as I straighten. That’s the first time she’s mentioned a parent, or her life outside of school, and the malice and defeat that laces her tone has me feeling even more curious than before. I wonder if her home life isn’t great, maybe she doesn’t get along with her mom.

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