Midnight Muse

“You’re an ‘us’ now?” My question is sincere, and I look at her over my shoulder when she reaches into my lap for some popcorn. Her cerulean eyes glow in the light from the TV and even without the sinister crimson pouring from the screen, I know just how pink her cheeks are.

Rory brushes her dark hair over her shoulder, blowing the shorter strands that keep falling in her face away. I bite back my laugh when I remember how bad they looked at the beginning of summer.

I’ll never stop reminding her of it.

“I think I might be starting to see where things could go with him.”

I squeal because I really can’t help myself. Rory looks shocked for all of two seconds before she’s screaming along with me. Seeing her so giddy over a guy is contagious. I haven’t seen her like this since she first gushed about Max asking her out last year. Rory had fallen hard and fast for the hotshot quarterback from Vulcan’s team. He’d broken her heart by the end of the year and Rory hasn’t really been the same since.

Getting revenge on him and his frat helped a little, though.

“Is he hung?” I blurt and we stare at each other before we’re both falling into a fit of laughter until Rory manages to calm herself enough to smirk over at me.

“Didn’t you see it when you walked in on us? You tell me.”

“Ew, no! I only saw his ass,” I scrunch my nose, tossing a piece of popcorn into my mouth. The buttery goodness nearly makes me moan. “Which, I must say, is not that impressive.”

I reach for a chocolate, unwrapping the foil with a crinkle. It melts against my tongue and I pair the sweetness with a sip of wine.

“Not as impressive as, say, a certain roommate with an affinity for parking like shit’s ass?” Rory teases and I groan, tossing a handful of popcorn her way. There’s already who knows what kind of fluids staining the fabric, what’s a little popcorn to go along with it?

“Slate’s ass is quite nice, you already know that,” I sigh dreamily, trying my best to distract her from conversation surrounding Knox. I so do not want to be talking about him or his ass right now, not when I’m so unsure of my feelings about him. The look on his face when he saw me studying with Odie is still fresh in my mind. His confusion turned into what I can only call jealousy. We’re supposed to be having a peaceful night. “And I don’t think Slate’s parking is that bad, Ro. It’s questionable at best.”

Rory takes the bait, agreeing with a pleasant hum, settling into the couch. She tucks an arm behind her head, posing exactly like Slate had during the time he’d modeled for our class. “So biteable, and he’s hung as fuck. Any girl would be lucky to have him.”

It’s true. His cock is huge.

Snorting, I reach for the remote. “If she can put up with all of his dirty jokes.”

“You’re damn right about that,” Rory says, then joins me on the floor as I press play.

The treats run out long before the movie is over.

An empty bottle of wine stuffed with the balled-up wrappers from our treats sit on the coffee table and I’m beginning to regret playing this little game because the wine is only making me more terrified of everything that jumps out at us.

I’d given in and risen from my spot on the floor with the irrational fear that some monstrous creature’s claws would creep out from underneath the couch and snatch me up. Rory had been the first to cower into a ball on the futon, blanket pulled up to her shoulders. I’m surprised she’s even watching the movie still, but the half full glass of wine she had has been abandoned.

I sit on my own blanket as far away from where I’d seen her and Ace’s sexual activities as I can, and I’m wondering now out of all of the moments, while the victim hides beneath her bed, why we thought a horror movie would be the best genre to watch tonight.

Holding my breath, the murderer stalks down the pitch-black halls of the house on the screen. He’s already killed three of the five group members in the most gruesome of ways, and I know that she’s the next to go because it’s obvious to everyone but her that she can totally be seen in her hiding spot under the bed.

“I can’t watch, I can’t watch,” Rory complains, but a quick glance to my side shows that her blanket sits just over the bridge of her nose, her eyes wide with horror and glued to the screen in anticipation.

The killer enters the room, stalking on silent feet, and just as he leans down for the jump-scare of a lifetime, there’s pounding at our door.

Neither of us can contain our shrill screams. Rory almost jumps out of her skin, launching herself across the couch to clutch at me like a terrified child. I’m faring no better, my heart pounding so hard in my chest that my head goes dizzy with it.

It takes me a few harsh breaths to realize what the sound is, only because the knocking becomes more urgent with our screams.

“Fucking hell,” I mutter, lunging for the remote as the girl gets dragged out from under her bed. Her screams have nothing on the ones Rory and I just let out. Pausing the movie, I notice the bass blasting through the walls as I make my way to the door.

Rory stumbles up from the couch, stopping me with a firm hand on my arm. “What if it’s the killer?”

I know she’s somewhat joking, the small lift to her lips tells me that she knows it simply can’t be, but I’m wearier than I’d like when I twist the knob.

I have an inkling of who it might be on the other side, but I check the peephole before I do anything else, groaning when I see who it is.

Slate stands on the other side, brows furrowed in concern. “Are you ladies alright? I heard screaming.”