Welcome to the Dark House Read Free Page B

that I’m one of the winners is still open on my computer. I read it again,
     making sure that it’s real—that it still says what I think it does. My parents can
     never take that away.
    I gaze over at my bookcase, the shelves of which are filled with all of Justin Blake’s
     work, including a copy of My Nightmare , his autobiography, in which he talks about feeling like a constant disappointment
     to his parents. I know that feeling all too well.
    I move over to my dresser mirror. There’s a desk blotter covering the glass. I take
     it down, careful where I look; I don’t want to see my whole reflection right away.
     My pulse racing, I pull off my sweatshirt, trying to focus on just the Nightmare Elf
     tattooed on my belly. When I went to the tattoo parlor, I told the artist to make
     an extra bulge in the elf’s sack for my nightmare—the biggest one of the bunch.
    I grab an eyeliner pen off my dresser and, across my belly, beside the elf, I start
     to write the words In his hefty elf sack, my nightmare now keeps , but there isn’t enough room. The letters are squished.
    I turn sideways to scope out the space on my back. Justin Blake’s birth date is tattooed
     at the very bottom, right in the middle of my underwear line, right below Pudgy the
     Clown’s chain saw.
    Harris thinks it was psycho of me to get a man’s birthday permanently inked on my
     skin. But at the time that I got it—just after my mom and sister had girls’ night
     out and “forgot” to invite me—it made perfect sense, because I couldn’t thank God
     enough for placing Justin Blake on this earth.
    I angle my back a little more toward the mirror and pull down my underwear to see
     the couple of tattoos on my ass cheeks: Little Sally Jacobs’s skeleton keys and part
     of the Nightmare Elf’s infamous catch phrase, “Better think twice before falling asleep.”
    Looking at all these tattoos now, I want to tell myself how ballsy I am—how ballsy
     I was to have gotten them in the first place. But the truth is, they were strategically
     placed. I could never have gotten them where my parents would see, just like I could
     never go against their wishes and accept Blake’s generous offer.



F INALLY I GET OFF THE PLANE , but I’m so full of negative energy that I can’t even stand myself. I’m starving.
     My muscles ache. The woman sitting next to me in coach wouldn’t stop coughing toward
     the side of my face. Plus, she smelled like bacon, and not the hickory-smoked country
     kind, more like the kind that’s micro-ready in thirty seconds. And, as repulsive as
     that is, the smell only made me hungrier.
    Admittedly, I’d wanted to upgrade to first class, but primo seats are slim to none
     when you’re traveling to East Bum Suck, Minnesota, population: twelve.
    I know; I sound disgusting. And I know; I shouldn’t complain. I mean, this is a new
     adventure with new people and new opportunities…right? Plus no one twisted my arm
     to come here. I’m here of my own free will, as part of the Shayla Belmont “make the
     most of every moment” mission to have a fun and fulfilling life.
    This airport is minuscule. People from my flight disperse like ants from repellent.
     Do they know something I don’t? Did I miss the memo on fleeing creepy airports at
     the proverbial speed of light?
    A woman rushes by me, nearly knocking me over.
    “Excuse me ,” I call out, suddenly noticing that her pants are way too short, exposing her socks—purple
     ones with bright pink hearts, just like my best friend Dara’s socks. The coincidence
     gives me a chill.
    I gaze toward the windows, but they’re blacked out so I can’t see. I look around for
     a security officer or for someone who might be awaiting my arrival, but unfortunately
     I find neither.
    A gnawing sensation eats away at my gut, making me question whether I should turn
     back around and go home. Still, I grab my bag and head up to the car rental counter.
     An attendant stands