Page 8 of Of Poison & Pumpkins
Outside my window, more spotlights turn on, igniting Blake Street for the ritual. My apartment is above Palooza, only a few yards away from the where people are gathering. Someone’s rich voice booms instructions for the crew setting up chairs by the historical fountain. If only there were a way to encapsulate how much I love this town and bottle that feeling for gloomy days. Not even a renowned painter could depict the beauty of the red and gold leaves framing our street.
Goosie jumps on the windowsill and I yank it open, allowing a fresh night breeze to flow in. My new comrade sniffs the air, ears back, then paws at the screen. Elias deserves his cat to be stolen after being irresponsible and not neutering him.
“No, sir. You can’t go out.” I pet Goosie’s back until his butt arches high. “You’ll impregnate someone else.”
I leave the captured kitty in my apartment and head outside, where the scent of leaves fills my nostalgia jar. The street fills up fast; Nergs lingering behind the designated roped-off area to await the Ceremony when Fuzers select their spell of the month.
There’s a buzz of electricity in the air. I, for one, despise these ceremonies. The council needs to figure out a more private way for us to choose our spell without being displayed like circus freaks.
While I scan the crowd for Tinsley, I instantly regret wearing heels. They slip on the tiny gravel, causing me to teeter like I’m drunk. A few people bump into me, but they don’t apologize. I often blend in like a ghost, invisible until needed. It’s fine. I don’t crave attention. Really, it’s fine.
Tinsley and I usually sit outside of Shoanna’s so when the fun begins, we can snag a high-top table and drink, but I don’t see her at our typical meeting spot.
Instead, I see a brilliant smile, sparkling like the stars. Among a cluster of bodies, Elias waves me over, but I act like I don’t see him.
“Rynnlee!” He waves both arms, jumping like a damn golden retriever.
Seriously? How does he still exude so much vibrancy? What else hasn’t changed? Is he still obsessed with game shows? Does he still listen to murder mystery audiobooks and sing along at bluegrass concerts? Did he ever become a member of a rowing team? By the looks of his body, he’s doing something right with his fitness. No, Rynn. Stop thinking about him shirtless.
Speaking of his outfit, he’s wearing suspenders again, over a solid-white shirt, which matches my plain white dress. Fuck my life. Somehow, he read my mind. No one ever wears white to the Ceremony, so if I don’t find a jacket soon,, we’re going to become instant gossip.
“Rynn, there you are. It’s nuts tonight,” Tinsley says, watching a video on her nanny cam. “Has everyone and their great auntie moved here since last month?”
Grateful for the distraction, I dip my attention to the image on her phone showing a babysitter checking on Tinsley’s six-year-old daughter, asleep in bed, curled next to giant stuffed bears. I can’t even imagine experiencing the nightmare of single parenthood. Tinsley’s parents and fiancé had died in the same hurricane shortly after we became friends. I supported her through the trials of grief. Then we dedicated Purple Palooza to those she lost.
“Do you have another sweater?” I rub both my arms, pretending I’m cold.
“Even if I did, I wouldn’t lend it to you. That dress is hot as flames, chica. Guess we’re not having margs after this?” Tinsley asks. “Who are you meeting? Are they a good kisser? They must be if you wore that.”
My eyes snap back to hers. “I’m not meeting anyone.”
Tinsley opens her mouth to argue, but the midnight bells strike loud. One. Two. Three times. The bustling chatter dies down and I can suddenly feel Elias’s presence close by. I turn to my right, and there he is. Despite everyone else facing the front, Elias is trying to inconspicuously scoot towards me, weaving through tiny gaps between people.
“Welcome to Oakmar’s Fuzer Selection Ceremony of October 2025!” the council leader says into a microphone. “It’s been a month of record-breaking sunshine so let’s all pray to Luna Above that the temps drop quick! And if you parked illegally, don’t worry, no tickets tonight.”
A light round of applause rumbles, but I tune out the next part of his speech when a warm, solid arm grazes against mine.
“Told you we’d match,” Elias says, bending to whisper in my ear, then he snaps one of his suspenders against his chest.
Goddess, he smells absolutely scrumptious, like pumpkin pie fresh out of the oven. Somehow, I know for a fact that if I licked his skin, he’d taste like one too. Oh, my Goddess, this needs to stop. I need to take a scalpel, dig these hornball hormones out of my body, and feed them to a chipmunk.
“Ssh, I’m listening to the speech.” I keep my gaze forward, despite being hyper-aware of Elias’s pinky brushing against mine.
“No, you’re not.” Elias nudges my crossed arm slightly. “You wear the hell out of that dress, by the way.”
I swallow the knot of barbed wire in my throat, clueless how to respond.
“… time for each Fuzer to register their spell for next month …” the leader continues, but I tune him out since I’ve heard it a billion times.
“So, want to meet after? I need someone to show me where to get the best tacos,” Elias says. “I haven’t been in town long.”
I bite my bottom lip, almost to the point of breaking the skin, to force myself to keep looking straight. If I lose control and look into Elias’s dark, confident eyes, I’ll be under his control forevermore. I shake my head.
“Can’t you ask that other employee to be your tour guide?” I ask.
“My brother? No, Zanther couldn’t find his foot in a shoe crisis.” Elias turns his head, and his gaze burns a searing hole through my skin. “Plus, I asked you.”
I viscerally feel his eyes slide down my skin, halting at my cleavage, then shifting back up, trailing the spiraling path of my plant tattoo until it disappears behind my ear. He doesn’t know about the dermatitis under my clothes, and I’m not sure I want him to find out.
