The Hidden Door by Liz Botts Page A

before I make my getaway.
    â€œWhere are you going?” She plants herself directly in my pat h, hands on hips.
    â€œOut,” I say, stepping around her.
    She blocks me again. Veronica is a freshman at the university this year. Ever since school started she has been Miss High and Mighty. There is no way I am telling her my plans. Especially not in front of Mom and Dad.
    â€œOut where?” she persists, acting like sh e is going to grab my backpack.
    Dodging her, I reply, “I’m just going to the Halloween concert with Riva and some other people.”
    â€œAt the university?”
    â€œUm, duh! What other Halloween concert do you know of?” I try acting like this is all no big deal, even though the Halloween concert is undeniably one of the biggest music events of the year, in our town anyway. This year’s theme is ‘Halloween Goes to the Movies’. I really have no idea what that means. The “Ghostbusters” theme song maybe?
    â€œWhat about The Vampire?” Veronica speaks loud enough that Mom and Dad glance at each other.
    Some guy has been terrorizing our town and the university, by pretending to be a vampire. He wears fake fangs, pale makeup, …the whole cheesy bit. So far there hasn’t been anything more than random muggings. He doesn’t even carry a weapon. I guess people are just so freaked out by the way he acts and t alks that they do what he says.
    â€œI’ll be careful,” I promise.
    Veronica glares at Mom and Dad like they are sending me in to be eaten by lions or something. She happens to be in the minority of our town that believes this guy is actually a vampire. I think perhaps she read Twilight one too many times.
    â€œVeronica, leave your sister alone,” Dad says befo re opening the newspaper again.
    Before I leave, I catch a glimpse of the headline story on our small town rag. All about the latest strike of The Vampire. Chuckling, I hurry out to wait for my ride. People sure are gullible. They will believe whatever they are going to believe despite evidence to the contrary, such as the fact that the guy mainly snatches purses. He doesn’t leave bloodless victims with bite marks in their necks trailing in his wake.
    The night air swirls around me, already thick with darkness even though it is only just after six-thirty. A sliver of a moon hangs on the horizon, but not bright enough to provide much light tonight. Skeletal tree branches scrape the sky, rattling in the chilly wind that blows brittle leaves.
    Groups of trick-or-treaters race past me as I hurry to the curb to wait for whoever Riva sent to pick me up. The laughter of suga r-fueled kids assaults my ears.
    I hate Halloween. Sure, I loved dressing up as a kid, but the second I hit middle school all that changed. No one cool dared to dress up. Let’s just say in seventh grade I was desperately uncool. Fairy wings? Oh, yes. Glittery make-up? Check. Long, gauzy dress? Unfortunately. Of course Veronica tried to convince me not to wear a costume to school, but I didn’t listen to her. Shuddering at the memories, I turn away from the view of kids getting candy from my Mom.
    A familiar blue car pulls to a stop in front of me. I frown as the window eases down.
    â€œHey, Riva asked me to pick you up. That’s okay, right?”
    I purse my lips, staring at Justin’s handsome face. What can I do? If he doesn’t give me a ride, no one will. Without saying anything I open the door and throw my backpa ck on the passenger side floor.
    Justin continues staring at me. I swallow against my suddenly dry throat. His green eyes still startle me into a blush every time they catch me in his gaze. I try not to notice the enticing stubble shadowing his jaw or the worrisome dark circles under his eyes. We still hang out together when there is a group of our friends going out, but we rarely talk. I have nothing to say to him.
    â€œAre you excited?” h e asks as I slam