Page 42 of Hey, Stepbro

Amanda?

No... It can't be.

Isn't that the name ofCampusKing's ex-girlfriend?

"I never believed the rumors," I say quickly. "Everything you've done for me has been so kind and compassionate. I've seen your soul, Brock. You're a good person."

He gazes at me for a moment. Then he takes my hands in his own, squeezing them gently. "Thank you. For believing in me."

We walk through town, and I’m delighted to see a few of the shops preparing for Halloween. Already, the streets are decorated with jack-o’-lanterns and ghosts. Soon, they'll be bustling with people dressed up as witches, vampires, and zombies. The air is crisp and cool, a light breeze rustling the leaves of the trees.

The atmosphere is so festive, and all at once, I’m a kid again. The worries about Brock’s ex-girlfriend and those other bullshit rumors fade from my mind. I remember Halloween as a boy, trick-or-treating with my friends, trying to get as much candy as possible.

We grab tacos at a local Mexican place.

"Hey, cutie."

I blush, turning to him as I finish my taco. "Hey."

"We should get you a costume for Halloween," Brock suggests. "What kind of character do you want to be?"

I snort. A costume? "It's been a long time since I've dressed up."

"Why does that matter?"

I think for a moment. "Maybe a superhero? I always wanted to be one in high school."

I never had the chance. Mainly, it’s because I didn’t grow obsessed with superheroes until I was a teenager. As a boy, I was a pirate or sometimes a ghost—that was the easiest costume. All you did was cut holes in a white sheet and drape it over your head.

I was a pretty bad fucking ghost, though. Tripping over the sheet isn’t supposed to happen, but I made a habit out of it.

Brock's face lights up. "That's perfect. We'll find you something amazing."

Wow. This is actually happening.

It doesn't take long to stumble across a store that specializes in costumes.

I pick out a Superman costume, complete with a cape and a symbol on the chest. I'm so excited, I can hardly contain myself.

God, I’m such a fucking geek. What self-respecting nineteen-year-old still buys Halloween costumes?

I refuse to let my own fears stop me. What matters is that Brock doesn't care, doesn't judge me. He won't let anyone put me down.

"This is gonna be epic," Brock says.

"I can't wait. However, I fear I'll look ridiculous."

"Never," Brock snorts, taking my hand in his and squeezing it. "You'll look amazing. I can't wait to see you in it."

We pay for the costume and head home. I can't wait to put it on and show Brock how awesome I look, even though I’m internally rolling my eyes. He claims he'll love it, but we’ll see.

Once we get home, I don't exactly hurry to get dressed in my costume. I linger by the door, and Brock has to shove me upstairs. Heat blooms when he smacks my ass, which gets me into motion.

I put on the cape and try to make the symbol on my chest look as cool as possible and not like a dweeb. When I look in the mirror, I can hardly believe it's me.

I look... kind of badass.

"Ready?" Brock asks from the doorway.

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