Page 16 of Of Poison & Pumpkins
CHAPTER SIX
Elias
I wake as Goosie’s paws knead my forehead. “That’s enough, sir,” I grumble and rub my eyes, then inhale the forever pumpkin scent that might tattoo itself onto my soul.
After getting kicked out of Rynn’s studio late last night, then tossing and turning from my dreams of spooning against her, I can barely open my eyes. The digital clock glows 10-14-2025, with 9:05 am underneath. Honeycakes and twatwaffles, I slept in!
I bolt up and scan my closet/home for the essentials. My suitcase of clean clothes has a couple of items left. I jump around the small space in the nude. Careful not to step on my fiery orange feline bestie, who is currently licking his balls, I shove my bare legs into a pair of briefs, decorated with none other than acorns, almonds, macadamias, and pecans, because: nuts. In a rush, on go the rest of my clothes, finishing off with a new pair of purple suspenders from her store.
Outside my locked door, I hear the bustle and chatter of customers browsing in Pumpkins. Who will be the lucky one to win a gift at check-out? I love spreading positivity to others in little ways. During my endless goal of winning back my father’s attention, at least I can spread joy along the way.
My stomach rumbles and tightens. Whipping open my minifridge reveals no miraculous treasure, only the same expired cheese as before. Details from last night rush back as I close the fridge. A lot happened in one day—reuniting with Rynn, the ritual, claiming a new spell, and seeing her apartment. My mind feels like it’s on overload. Everything had gone much better than I had anticipated. Except for the shady thief who stole her paint.
“Don’t look at me like that, Goosie. There’s no way in turd-nuggets I’ll let Rynn be caught purple handed.” I scritch his ears as the door opens into the hallway. “Don’t worry, Goosie,” I call after him as he sprints out the emergency exit door, “we can find that thief without you.”
“Thief?” Zanther asks.
Sunshine disappears when he storms through the door. My little brother’s shoulders barely fit through the frame. It doesn’t help that he carries crates of merch.
“You look like a pumpkin god with those biceps,” I joke, then pretend I’m going to punch him in the stomach.
He spins, more fluid than a dancer, and knocks me against the wall. “What thief?” Zanther asks again, smiling as I’m stuck under his hold.
Sure, I’ve sculpted my five-foot-eleven mass into a rowing weapon of power, but Zanther will always win in our duels.
I grunt, pushing against his hold.
Zanther bends a bit, while still carrying the crates, and bites the upper curve of my ear.
“Frippin-aardvark!!” I scream and slump to the ground. “You bit me!”
His laugh booms louder than dynamite, echoing down the hall. “Serves you right for lying to me, Eli.” He turns, walking away without a care in the world. “You taste like sour fungus, bro. Go take a shower.”
“Thanks for opening this morning. Don’t you need me now?”
“My dad’s here. Go shower. No one wants your stinky, sweaty meat-sock stench in the store, even if your ball sack is made of cupcakes.” I grab my sneaker and chuck it at him, but my bro disappears into the chaos of customers.
Frustration and guilt wash over me for oversleeping. Quickly, I collect what’s needed and dart into the ‘Employees Only’ restroom. Stripping, I use the single sink to clean. I should send Zanther a gift card for lending a hand when he has his classes at State to worry about. Without his help, there’s no chance I’ll win. Two weeks left to earn the popular vote and make more sales than the other shops, including Rynn’s. Two weeks to get my dad’s attention.
This is the only chance I have left. After a lifetime of trying to win Noah Thoren’s approval and rope him back into my life, this will be my last attempt. If I fail, I’ll be out of options.
So I not only must compete against Rynn, but crush her. Which does not sound appealing.
I dip my head under the faucet and douse my hair. As the soap washes over me, I consider my options. What would convince an independent, assertive woman to go on a date with me? I’d need to pick a restaurant with vegetarian options.
When I shake my head, water splatters on the floor. I grab a hand towel and pat myself dry. My reflection in the pumpkin-shaped mirror shows a man who wears a mask. At least that’s what my therapist said before I quit and moved across the country to chase impossible approval.
I prep my razor and flick it under a trickle of water. Does Rynn like bearded men or short stubble, or clean and bare? It’s not like I have to stare at my own face, so I’d groom myself however the frick she wanted.
If she still likes indie musicians, I could check the local listings of bands playing. Or I could take her to a bookstore. The last time I checked her social media, she had posted a review about a popular thriller.
My sunflower would never be caught dead reading a romance.
“Son of button!” I hiss from nicking my neck and press against the bubble of blood.
Serves me right for calling Rynn mine. She belongs to only herself, but the thought of her whispering, ‘I’m yours’ in my ear sends a shiver jolting up my bare flesh. My cock twitches. I force myself to think of Zanther making out with my step-dad to calm my hard-on before something needs to be done about it. Now that the incestuous images of Kurt and Zanther embracing are forever imprinted in my brain, I re-dress and stash away my few personal belongings.
When I open the door, the pleasant pumpkin aroma floods my nostrils. The room is sprinkled with patrons of all shapes and sizes, even at such an early hour. A middle-aged man to my right picks up an orange bandana with pumpkins on it and wraps it around the head of a little boy. Across the way, two elder women giggle and point at a teacup set with pumpkin shaped tea-plates. And of course, the best-seller area is crowded with children grabbing pumpkin stuffies.
