The day came and went without anything too eventful. Of course, it was hard to find anything truly out of the ordinary when it came to High School. Everyone was already overly dramatic worrying about life, the future, parents, and romance. At the time, I hated that word. I was sure there was no one out there for me and I would simply become an insanely rich spinster who hid all her money in mason jars, cemented into the walls; and came home each day to a wide array of cats mewing to their hearts content and defecating on everything in sight.

Luckily, I would have a maid.

In all honesty, I had not truly been thinking about college, or any kind of future for that matter. I didn't really live each day as if it were my last, but I never understood making huge plans for the future when it could all come crashing down at any minute.

Alice was notorious for trying to hook me up with dates. I was unsure whether she truly wanted me to have a boyfriend, or if it was more Jay who wanted me to have someone, so I would spend less time talking to his girlfriend. I had, indeed, disrupted a few intimate moments between the two with random texting...

But the girl needed to know about the spirit living in my basement!

What if it had murdered me in my sleep? If I had waited to bestow on her such details of this spirit's demeanor and lackadaisical approach to fashion, they would be forever searching for my murderer, and never be able to have closure on the horrific murder of the rodeo clown's daughter.

...Did that sound quite as lame coming from my lips as I believe it did?

Dates, that is where we were.

So perhaps I should take a moment to explain why I was so horribly fearful of once again being set up on another blind date. For the record, reliving the worst date of my life really does not help my current emotional state, but you said to pour my heart out, so that is what I intend to do, for better or worse.

The last guy really did not have a hump, nor a lame leg. He did, however, hiss my name. When the 's' slipped from his terribly dry and chapped lips, it was as if he were a snake and I was his prey … and the spittle collecting at the corners of his mouth was his venom. I swore at that very moment, if the venom touched me, I would convulse and fall to the floor.

Interestingly enough, it did not take that long. He leaned over and planted a kiss on the back of my hand as I sat there eating my manicotti. At first I was in shock. I was stuffing noodle, cheese, and meat sauce in my mouth and he was suddenly on my hand, slobbering and licking.

I did not fall to the floor, but I did promptly request the check.

That was a mistake.

Mr. Slither hopped to the assumption that I was eager to drag him home and allow him to spit and slobber all over my naked, writhing body. As he grinned and leaned forward, he hissed, "I want to be your manicotti."

That was it.

I lost every bite I had taken right into the bread basket.

My body shook and convulsed.

Somewhere in the distance I heard a wolf howl.

The lady in the corner screamed, "I'm a nurse!"

Someone had my hand, my eyes fluttered, everything went black.

Yeah, that last part was a lie.

There was no wolf, no nurse, no blackness, just regurgitated manicotti and a disappointed Mr. Slither. I told him I must have had a reaction to the cheese and asked him to drive me home. I texted my father in our secret language that let him know he was allowed to meet me at the door in his clown makeup. That always seemed to help get rid of the weirdos, and it did not fail that time around, either.

Slither walked me to the door, my father answered in full rodeo garb, and his arm suddenly dropped to his side.

"So this is your date Bell? Well he's a mighty fine lookin' boy. Why doncha come in and take a load off. Don't mind my facepaint, I've been at war."

Slither looked down at his phone. Funny, I had not heard it ring, "Oh geez Mr. Swan sir, I would love to, but looks like my mom is calling. Guess I'm running a little late getting home."

His awkward teeter-tottering told me what I had already suspected: he an interesting little fear of clowns.

He stepped off the front porch and darted for his little blue Chevy. As the door closed, I thought I heard, "Call ya later Bella!"

My phone never rang.

The call I made to the phone company probably had something to do with that.

… I wonder how many numbers we now have on the call block list.