Touch of Mischief 7.5 Read Free

an image of Mr. Blackbourne and Dr. Green actually carving. Dr. Green maybe, but Mr. Blackbourne?
    “We’re a family, aren’t we?” Kota asked. He passed off a package to me, a template book with designs for carving pumpkins. “When we do holidays, we do them together. Let’s get started.”

Tricks and Pumpkins
    ––––––––
    I stared at the boys, watching as they found knives and started cutting the tops out of the pumpkins. The room was suddenly overwhelmed with the smell of fresh pumpkin. Kota found gloves and a spoon to start scooping out seeds; Nathan used his bare hands.
    I was caught up in how last night, we were chasing Theo and helping Silas and then there was the football game disaster, and they were here now, carving pumpkins. It was almost absurd. My nerves were alive, fully aware that in a few hours, we’d be at homecoming in full costume and on the hunt. How could they so easily forget about that and simply dive into making Jack-o-lanterns?
    “Sang,” Kota said, pulling me out of my dazed state.
    Before I fully focused, a wet dollop of pumpkin touched my nose.
    The coolness shocked me, and I stared, wide eyed, mouth open, at Kota, who held his slimy, pumpkin-gut covered finger at my face. He grinned, his green eyes lighting up.
    Nathan laughed deeply, jolting me and I started giggling and ducked my head out of Kota’s reach, patting his hand away. “Why?” I asked in a playful whine.
    “Wake up, goofy,” Kota said, smiling. “You haven’t touched your pumpkin yet. Don’t you want to carve it?”
    I wiped at my nose. “I don’t think I’ve done this before. Maybe in second grade...well, no. It really was the teacher doing it and a few volunteers from class, but the rest of us watched.”
    “God, Peanut,” Nathan said. He reached for a roll of paper towels nearby and started wiping his hands. “If I hear any more sad stories like that, we’re going to have to go to Disney World or something to make up for it all.”
    I was about to say we didn’t have to when Kota talked over me. “Maybe in the summer,” he said.
    Were they serious? I didn’t say anything, and neither seemed like they were joking.
    Nathan dried his hands and then picked up a knife, passing it to me. “Cut the top,” he said.
    I took the knife, and Nathan and Kota took turns showing me how to cut open the pumpkin. I used the gloves at Kota’s request, especially after he mentioned Gabriel would kill us all if I ended up with orange under my fingernails.
    With the pumpkins scooped out, Kota held out patterns for us to get started on the carving part. Seeds and guts were all over the table. The tangy smell was overwhelming.
    “Okay,” Nathan said, going through the guide book on how to draw various shapes like witches and spiders. “Peanut, you want a ghost or a graveyard?”
    I was just about to point one out when there was a rapid knock, rattling and shaking at the windows.
    Both of them.
    I jumped, rocking back into Nathan, the book falling out of my hands and crashing to the floor. Nathan grabbed my waist, moving me behind him. Kota turned fully toward the windows, spreading out his arms, protecting us both.
    Thunk, thunk, thunk!
    Giggling sounded, male.
    “Shh,” came a whisper from beyond the windows.
    More knocking, intense and quick.
    Kota groaned, and dropped his arms, stepping back. “I know that’s you, Luke!”
    “Nuh uh,” said a voice, clearly Luke. The knocking stopped and there were more giggles and laughter on the outside.
    “Nathan,” Kota said, looking at Nathan with a fixed stare. He gave a short nod and the slightest lift of his lip in silent communication. I caught the signals from his face, but not the meaning.
    “On it,” Nathan said. He nearly skipped as he rushed toward the front door.
    The door opened and Luke shouted in the distance, “Wasn’t me! He did it!” There was a thud and a groan and then laughter. “No, seriously!”
    I stood, staring at the wall as if I