Baz is strangely quiet as we wait for our turn in the haunted house. Penny and Shep trade bad Halloween puns and gawp at the decor around the queue; it's what a Las Vegas hotel would look like if it were owned by vampires—everything in shades of red and black, the low ceiling covered in black feathers. Agatha is between me and Baz trying to make small talk. It's not working. He stays tightlipped and looks every bit the disgruntled vampire. Fits right in.
I wish he'd loosen up a bit. Smile. At least look like he's having a good time. Not because I care (I don't). But because Agatha would like it, and making Agatha happy is part of my master plan. I don't give a rat's ass if Baz is happy or not. It's just, he's bringing the mood down. It's hard to enjoy myself while he's looking miserable, you know?
"What's wrong with you?" I ask. "Not used to being out while the sun's still up?"
He doesn't respond beyond the barest eye roll.
It's fine that he's ignoring Agatha. Good, even. But the way he's refusing to react to me is really getting under my skin. I'm trying to draw him out here, help him cheer up for fuck's sake.
I huff and turn my attention back to Agatha. She looks stunning in a knockoff Elsa outfit—long blue dress, hair up in a braid round her head. She's also got an ice blue satin cloak that, apart from the color, is almost identical to Baz's. They look irritatingly good together, like they belong on opposite sides of a chessboard. When the line shifts, I maneuver myself so I'm in between them.
Finally it's our turn and we step into the haunted house. The first room's a crypt—walls lined with sculls, the soundtrack playing creepy violin music with rustling and squeaking sounds. Tiny red lights flicker on and off from amongst the skulls, meant to be rat eyes I suspect, or maybe something worse. It's well creepy but too light for me to make a move for Agatha's hand.
The second room is a stark contrast. It's bright white. (Definitely no good for getting closer to Agatha, though helpful for making sure I'm still the only one next to her.) Penny and Shep are leading our little group with the three of us behind. I give Baz an elbow to the ribs, just enough that he falters and Agatha I pull ahead of him. The press of people behind is keeping all of us packed closely together, but now we're arranged like a triangle; Agatha and me in front, Baz behind us.
Somehow, this room is creepier than the last, despite the bright lighting. It looks medical. There's what appears to be a pair of spa chairs, but instead of lotions and whatnot, there's tray after tray of syringes, needles, clamps, all manner of imposing looking equipment. Some of it dripping red. New age music is playing in the background, but it keeps cutting out, replaced by faint screams. The effect is the opposite of relaxing. I point at one of the bloody implements and try to think of a vampire joke to make to Baz, but before I can, there are actual vampires surging out of hidden panels in the wall on both sides. Not actual, they're actors of course, but more legit than Baz. They look mean and cold and they're laughing and carrying giant, dangerous-looking plough shares and machine guns. Which seem a like an odd choice for a group of vampires, but okay. They rush us and I know they're fake, but it's still terrifying.
Penny squeals and she and Shep start running. Agatha and I follow close behind. As soon as we're around the corner and in the next room (which is built to look like we're outside, somewhere foresty) I turn to make sure Baz has made it too. He will be insufferable back at uni if we accidentally leave him behind. It's too poorly lit in here to see much but I can sense a recognizable presence behind me: tall, dark (everything in here is dark), solidly there and I think I catch a whiff of his woodsy scent, though that might just be one of the haunted house effects to make this pseudo forest we're in seem more realistic.
There's a narrow path leading through the fake trees. We shuffle along it towards the far side of the room where a rusty old pickup truck is parked with its taillights flickering red, a flowing, firey figure (glowing faintly) hovering to the side. While we're focused on that, gunfire explodes from behind us (the sound of it anyway). I can feel everyone in the line behind me trying to crowd forward. Someone's pressed right up into my back. At the same time, a bloke in a skunk mask lurches out from behind a hidden curtain, and another (this one with a goat head) surges at us from the other side dripping fake blood, waving a massive axe and yelling bloody murder. Shep and Penny both(/em scream this time, and Agatha jumps. I reach for her hand. I can feel it just beside me, nestled in the edge of her satin cape. It slides easily into mine, her skin smooth and dry—I wish I'd thought to wipe the nervous sweat off of mine before grabbing, but she doesn't pull away. She must not mind. That's a good sign, I think; she must have wanted this as much as I did. I grasp her hand firmly but lightly, in an "I'm here" sort of way.
Everyone is panicking around me in the dark as we move towards the pickup truck and (I hope) the exit from this room. I'm grinning. It's working. Just like I thought. I can't believe it. I can't believe it was actually this easy and we're actually holding hands. I turn my head to look at where I think Agatha is— we're still mashed together like sardines—and smile bigger, even though I know she can't see it in the near pitch black. I think Baz is trying to get in between us. Bastard. I grip her hand a little more tightly. No one is getting between us. Her hand feels solid in mine, there are calluses on her fingers, from holding the reins when she's riding, I reckon.
Our group is pushed round the corner where another jump scare is waiting for us, this time with the added twist of people in all black rushing us from behind so we're forced towards a giant glowing beast with a lion's head and a tail that looks like a snake, all attached to the hairy brown body of what I'm pretty sure is a goat. A blast of fire surges from the lion mouth and I admit it, I jump. Agatha gives my hand a quick squeeze. I squeeze back. I can't believe this is happening. I'm living a charmed life.
Next is a dark maze dotted here and there with pools of colored light—red on a mountainous dragon that snaps at us as we edge by, blue on a tall woman who looks like she's made of water, lavender on a giant, silvery unicorn with a rainbow mane and blood dribbling from a mouthful of razor-sharp teeth. And then at the end of the maze, I see the unwelcome red and white glow of the Exit sign.
What now?
Do I keep holding Agatha's hand? Will she keep holding mine? Do we acknowledge what happened in the dark? Are we dating now? No. Stupid question. That's not how dating works. I don't think. (I don't really know.) But the hands? That's what's important right now. What do we do?
We're almost to the exit and I can still feel Agatha's hand, firmly in mine. I've just about decided that if she keeps holding on, I will too, but then she pulls ahead of me, and I loosen my grip a bit so, if she wants to, she can pull away. She does.
The five of us step out into the light of the exit area and suddenly there's space around me again. Agatha and Baz, who were both crowded into me the whole way through the haunted house step away in either direction, and maybe I'm imagining it, but I think I see an awkward glance from both of them at me and at each other as they do. A thought more horrifying than even the white room of gun-wielding vampires enters my head: what if Agatha thought she was holding Baz's hand?
"Anyone want to go again?" I ask. Joking. Mostly. (I would not mind some more hand holding.)
Baz pins me with a look that sends a shiver right through me. "Why?"
I shrug. "It was nice?"
He purses his lips and glances down at my hand. Does he know?
"What? Didn't you like it?" I ask.
"It was… not entirely unenjoyable." One side of his mouth tips up minutely. I'd not notice it in anyone else, but for Baz it's practically a smile.
I guess he does know how to have fun. A bit.
Agatha floats up to his side—much too close for my comfort—with a sly smile on her face. "You seemed like you were enjoying it." The glare he rewards her with is so serious it makes the look he leveled at me a minute ago seem almost friendly.