The Fear Zone 2 Page 2

  “Are you excited for tonight?” Caroline asks.

  I nod and grab another handful of candy. The pasta is hard as a rock and I’ve given up on being healthy today. It’s a holiday, after all.

  Caroline’s wearing a skeleton onesie, her blonde hair in two pigtails with plastic bone ties, and April is dressed as a zombie, with mottled gray skin and heavy shadows under her eyes.

  I didn’t have time to change into my costume this morning.

  “What are you going as?” Caroline asks me.

  “A clown,” I say flatly.

  April drops her fork. “Andres—”

  “I’m kidding!” I reply, throwing up my hands. “I’m going as a shark. Kyle’s going to be a pirate. Got him a talking parrot for his shoulder and everything.”

  Caroline snorts. “That’s so cute. Are you sure you’re okay going as a shark?”

  “Yes,” I say, sitting up tall. “I’m owning my fears. After all.” I then recite what I’ve forced myself to research. “The fear of sharks is totally unrealistic and fueled by the media. They are a beautiful, necessary part of the ocean’s ecosystem, and without them the entire planet would crumble. Nothing to be scared about. Even if they do have giant teeth.” I shudder dramatically—it’s only partway theatrical. The rest of me is still admittedly scared.

  April smiles, which looks gruesome because she went so far as to put black on her teeth. “Well, I can’t wait to see. I think Deshaun is going to go as a zombie as well.”

  “Aww, the two couples planned out their costumes together,” Caroline says.

  I grin, feeling my cheeks blush. But the flush goes away when April speaks.

  “I don’t want to ask, but no one got any notes, right?”

  I shake my head. So does Caroline.

  “Okay, good,” April says. “I texted Deshaun and he didn’t get one either. Neither did Kyle.” Her gross smile widens. “Which is good. One more year without the clown.”

  “I feel like that deserves a cheer,” I say. I grab my milk carton, and the girls raise theirs. “To another year of being clown free.”

  We tap cartons and drink. Once more, I’m reminded of my nightmares, and I wonder if the girls had similar bad dreams or if it was just stress, but before I can ask, a hand clamps down hard on my shoulder.

  “Andres!”

  I jolt and look around.

  “Oh, hey, Jeremy, how’s it going?”

  Jeremy’s on the soccer team with me. He’s tall and fast, definitely one of the cool kids, which has always made me wonder why he hangs out with me. Right now, he’s dressed as a vampire, though I can see his freckles through the pasty makeup he’s wearing.

  “Doing all right,” he says. “Are you guys going to the carnival tonight? It’s gonna be sick.”

  “Of course,” I reply. “We’ve got a group going.”

  “Right on. I gotta take my little brother and his friends. See you guys there?”

  I nod.

  Then he turns around and joins his definitely-more-popular-than-us friends at their table.

  “I still think it’s so weird that he’s your friend now,” April says. “I mean, he’s, like, super cool.”

  “And I’m not?” I reply. “I think I’m offended.”

  “Please, you don’t have enough pride to be offended,” April says, throwing a piece of candy corn at me. Her grin falters as she looks over at Jeremy’s table. “I realized this morning that they’re setting up the carnival right outside the cemetery. So many kids near the graveyard …”

  “Relax,” I say. “It’s fine. It’s over. Remember? No notes today. No waking nightmares. It’s all fine.”

  “I wish I could believe you,” April says.

  I try to keep my smile on firmly, but her uncertainty gets under my skin. Even as Caroline chips in and starts talking about what movies we should watch at her place tomorrow night, I can’t stop feeling like maybe April is right to be worried.

  I think of my dreams.

  Of waking up convinced I was stuck in the ocean with sharks circling me.

  When I take another drink of my milk, I realize my hands are shaking.

  “Wow,” Andres says. “This place is intense.”

  The five of us stand just outside the entrance to the carnival. I can’t actually remember the last time we all hung out like this. I think we had a sleepover at April’s house on her birthday last year. That couldn’t have been the last time, could it? In any case, tonight will definitely make up for it.

  Flashing lights and organ music and happy (or terrified) screams beckon us forward, along with the scent of cotton candy and popcorn. But we don’t move. We stand there, twenty feet from the arched entryway, stunned.

  Not just because the carnival is absolutely packed with people.

  The striped, neon-lit archway leading to Cheery Charlie’s Carnival is topped with a giant, blue-eyed, smiling clown head.

  I try to tell myself that it doesn’t look anything at all like the clown that haunted us, the clown we buried in the graveyard that stretches up on the other side of the road, but it’s difficult. At least this clown head doesn’t seem evil.

  “Why in the world did they decide to set up by the graveyard?” April asks. She holds Deshaun’s hand tight. Their matching zombie outfits are adorable. In a creepy sort of way.

  Andres shrugs. “Empty lot?”

  It definitely adds an extra layer to the creep factor of the place. On one side of the road, the graveyard sweeps out under the moonlight in rolling hills and gnarled trees, all shadows and bad memories. That is where my mother is buried. That is where we got rid of the clown.

  On the other side, blinking wildly, is the carnival, filled with life and light and noise. The two scenes couldn’t be more opposite … yet they feel connected. As if the carnival couldn’t have been built anywhere else.

  As if it were meant to be right here, side by side with the dead, right next to our worst nightmares.

  Chills race across my skin as I stare at the entrance.

  For some reason, I suddenly want to go in there as much as I’d want to go to the graveyard alone. Farther in, I see someone dressed as a clown, beckoning kids inside.

  “Is that … ?” April asks with a shudder.

  “No,” Andres says. “Definitely not.”

  The clown in question is wearing a big polka-dot outfit, with fluffy pink hair like cotton candy and a big pink smile.

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?” April asks. Her gaze goes from the clown to the graveyard as she says it.

  Maybe it’s my imagination, but when I follow her gaze, I hear a voice. The faintest whisper.

  Come play, Caroline. I miss you, Sunnybunny.

  No.

  No, it’s just my imagination.

  “Come on,” I say. I take April’s hand. “It will be better inside.”

  I don’t know if it’s true, but at least in there, we’re surrounded by music to drown out the whispers, and lights to burn away the shadows.

  At least in there, we’re surrounded by the living rather than the dead.

  I want to be enjoying myself. Really, I do. But crowds are, like, my least favorite thing in the world. Especially crowds of screaming children. And I’m not a big ride person. I get sick easily. Like the rest of us, I’m not a clown person either—and, lucky us, it seems like all the workers here are dressed as clowns. So the carnival is the last place I want to be.

  If it weren’t for the huge grin on Andres’s face when we all step through the archway, I’d have probably turned around and gone home. But he looks truly happy, and especially dorky in his giant shark onesie. That helps me forget where we are. So I push down my discomfort and try to look like I’m enjoying myself. At least I’m dressed as a pirate—if anyone catches me scowling, I can just pretend I’m being in character.

  We head straight past a clown making balloon animals and go to a booth to buy some cotton candy.

  “I haven’t had this in ages,” And
res says, pulling off a blue tuft and shoving it in his mouth.

  “As if you need any more energy,” I say, grinning. He gives me a shove, then pulls off a piece of cotton candy and stuffs it in my mouth.

  “What do you think we should do first?” Caroline asks as she eats her own cotton candy.

  “Tilt-A-Whirl!” April calls out.

  “Really?” I ask. “Doesn’t that make you want to hurl?”

  “Only if I’ve eaten a lot,” she says with a grin. “Which means we should do it now, before bingeing on hot dogs and popcorn.”

  “Blegh,” I say. “I can’t. I’ll throw up. But you guys can go. I’ll watch.”

  April’s face drops.

  “Okay,” she says. “It’s not as fun if we don’t all go.”

  I shrug uncomfortably. “Sorry. I can’t really do rides.”

  “How about you guys go?” Andres suggests, nodding to April and Deshaun and Caroline. “Kyle and I will go do our own thing and meet you in, like, ten?”

  “Um, yeah, if you want,” April says.

  “Come on, let’s Tilt-A-Whirl,” Deshaun says. He doesn’t look very excited about going on the ride either—I know for a fact that he also gets nauseated on rides, but he seems ready to test his luck for April’s sake. “I’m starving and want to get this over with. See you guys on the other side!”

  The three of them skip off, leaving Andres and me standing in the middle of the boulevard, lights flashing and families racing all around us.

  “So, um, what do you want to do?” Andres asks me.

  I glance around. I don’t want to just stand here while everyone else is having fun.

  “Maybe we could do the balloon darts?” I say. I force myself to smile. “You can try to win me a prize.”

  He jumps up and down excitedly, his fins flopping about. Ridiculous. My smile becomes real.

  “Okay,” he says. “But if I win one of the really big prizes, I’m keeping it. Also you have to play, and if you win anything, I get to keep that too.” He smiles his big, goofy grin, and my earlier discomfort fades away. That smile always makes me feel better.

  I chuckle. “Deal.”

  We head over to the booth, where a bored-looking teen in a Cheery Charlie’s Carnival T-shirt and ridiculous clown makeup stands beside a wall of balloons. We pay him, and he gives each of us three darts.

  “So,” Andres says, aiming his first dart.

  “So,” I reply.

  “Does this count as a date?” He throws his dart and misses.

  I throw mine; it grazes a balloon, but it doesn’t pop.

  “I guess. Why?”

  He shrugs and glances over at me. “Because we haven’t been on a date in, like, weeks.”

  I bite my lip and try to focus on the balloons rather than the guilt worming through my guts.

  “I know,” I reply. “But we’ve both been really busy. You’ve had practice and I’ve had—”

  “Plenty of excuses,” Andres interjects. He tosses his dart. The balloon pops, and he cheers. “I mean, I’m not blaming you or anything. Just saying you always seem to have a reason not to go out with me. I was starting to think I’d done something wrong.”

  The guilt grows, becomes acidic. I focus on the balloons in front of me and ready my next dart.

  I don’t know how to explain to him how I’ve been feeling lately. Like I’m a stranger in my own skin. Like I’m becoming something or someone I don’t want to be.

  Like the past is catching up to me, hissing curses in my ear, turning everything happy and good in my life rotten.

  Even my relationship with him.

  I throw the dart, straight toward a lime-green balloon.

  When it pops, something falls out. A looping, coiling band of black, dropping to the dirt below.

  A snake.

  There was a snake in the balloon.

  And yet Andres and the bored teen don’t seem to notice. I’m so focused on trying to find it again that I don’t even hear Andres cheer when he pops his final balloon.

  “I win!” he calls out. He picks out a tiny stuffed pig and holds it to his chest, looking delighted. I wish I could feel happy too, but once more I feel like I’m a step apart.

  There wasn’t a snake in the balloon. That was impossible. The clown isn’t back. I’m just tired.

  “Should we play again?” Andres asks.

  Before I can answer, I catch sight of Deshaun, April, and Caroline in the crowd. I wave to them.

  Caroline and April are grinning, but Deshaun definitely looks a little green.

  “How was it?” I ask when they gather around.

  “Don’t ask,” Deshaun says miserably.

  April gives him a big side hug. “Poor Deshaun started feeling a little sick on the ride.”

  “A little?” Caroline giggles. “He ran straight for a trash can the moment we got off.”

  Deshaun closes his eyes. “Please. I don’t want to think about it.”

  “I take it that means hot dogs are out right now?” I tease.

  Deshaun moans.

  “We could play another round?” Andres suggests. “I just won a pig, but I could upgrade to a giraffe if we win again.”

  Even though I’m trying to smile, I can’t stop thinking about the snake I swear I saw fall out of the balloon. The snake that could be slithering around our feet at this very moment.

  I don’t really want to stay here. The more I stand in one place, the louder the hissing becomes.

  “How about the hall of mirrors?” I say, pointing farther off. “That’s not too intense for Deshaun’s poor stomach.”

  The others agree, and we make our way to the hall of mirrors.

  The building is long and flat, and the walls are glass and angled mirrors, so we can see some of the kids already making their way through the maze inside. We pay the kid at the entrance and go in, one at a time.

  The moment I’m in the maze, the music and madness from outside fades away, becomes a distant blur. A distant hiss. The mirrors and glass panes warp my vision. I can see flickering lights outside and the shadows of the others in the maze, as well as my reflection. I can’t tell if the wandering shadows are my friends or strangers. I walk slowly, arms outstretched so I don’t run into anything, and start to wonder if this was really a good idea.

  Yes, I needed to be away from the noise, but in here, I’m surrounded by myself, and that’s almost worse.

  Especially because in here, the music and screams of delight from outside are replaced by even louder hissing.

  I turn a corner and see the blurry form of Andres farther in. I wave, but he doesn’t see me. That makes my heart drop … and the hissing grows louder. Along with the voice I’ve tried so hard to drown out.

  He doesn’t like you, whispers my father. He could never like you. He’s already growing bored. Just like your other friends. You’re no fun. You’re not like them.

  I walk faster, but my father’s voice follows, along with the hissing that I can no longer drown out. I have to get out of here. Have to find my friends. My hands slap against mirrors and clear walls, my reflection bouncing back into infinity everywhere I turn.

  They won’t be your friends for much longer, comes my father’s voice. Not when they realize who you are. Not when they see who you’ve become.

  I turn the corner

  and come face-to-face with myself. My true self.

  I freeze.

  And stare at my reflection.

  Me, but I’m no longer me. No longer staring at a scrawny boy with choppy black hair and sad eyes. I’m older. Angrier.

  I look like my father.

  Snakes slither around my feet. A huge white boa with burning blue eyes drapes around my shoulders.

  I stumble backward, but the reflection doesn’t waver, doesn’t move.

  He smiles. His mouth splitting wide. His eyes turning cruel. Turning blue.

  You can’t escape what you are, my reflection says.

  Then the reflection ch
anges.

  Shifts.

  My skin goes chalk white. Black diamonds of ink cover my eyes. My teeth grow sharp. My pirate outfit becomes puffy and striped …

  My reflection becomes the clown.

  I’ve missed playing with you, Kyle, the clown says. It reaches out, the white boa wrapping around its arm, the snake’s tongue flicking, searching, hunting for me. The snake slithers from the mirror …

  I don’t keep watching. I turn and run, stumbling through the halls, slamming against more mirrors.

  I don’t stop running until I get out into the welcoming chaos of the carnival, the music and laughter and lights.

  But as I wait there for my friends to return, my breath hot in my chest, I know the clown is right.

  I can’t escape what I am.

  Not anymore.

  If it wasn’t for my love of April and a little bit of social pressure, I probably would have left right after the Tilt-A-Whirl. I feel like I’m spinning even while standing on solid ground. The hall of mirrors doesn’t help at all; staring at reflections of myself only makes my concept of space and time falter. By the time I make it out, all I want to do is curl up into a ball and close my eyes and sleep. But everyone else is having fun, so I try to force myself to stay in the game.

  “What are you thinking?” Andres asks the group over nachos and hot dogs—I’m abstaining from everything but water, but even that is making my stomach lurch. “Games, or another ride?”

  The thought of another ride makes the lurching worse. I take slow, steady breaths and focus on the solid bench beneath me.

  April puts a hand on my shoulder.

  “Are you feeling okay?” she asks.

  I shrug.

  “We don’t have to go on any more rides,” she says.

  “No, it’s okay, I want you guys to have fun.”

  I really don’t want to ruin her night; I know how much she was looking forward to this, how much she needed a night of us all being together. I don’t want to be the reason it falls apart.

  Before I can worry too much, a group of kids comes up to us. I recognize Jeremy, but the others are younger. I don’t think I’ve seen them around before.

  “Hey, guys,” Jeremy says. He’s wearing a devil outfit and bumps fists with Andres. “This is my little brother Caleb.” He claps his hand on the shoulder of the boy wearing a bright orange hat—I think he’s supposed to be a lumberjack. “I’m on babysitting duty tonight. These are Caleb’s friends Eliza”—the girl with pigtails and braces and a witch costume waves—“and Kerrie and Kevin Bronson. They’re twins, obviously.” The two redheaded kids grin awkwardly, which is terrifying given the fact that they’re both dressed like clowns.