CHAPTER I

Halloween

"HAPPY HALLOWEEN!"

My phone drops from where it was pressed against my ear, landing on the wood flooring with a deafening clatter. Groaning and rubbing my ear, I lean down to pick it back up.

"Damn," I mutter under my breath "I can hear her from here"

I gingerly press the phone back against my ear, using my head to keep it wedged between my ear and my shoulder as I re-start at applying my fake runes. My best friend Octavia still chatters on and on through the phone, with a volume rivalling foghorns, about her costume and the party and this and that. I've taken to only half listen, grunting and okaying, here and there to somewhat contribute to the conversation; though unnecessary, Octavia is quite capable of maintaining a full out conversation of one.

"Come on, are you ready yet Nove? The party starts at 9 and it's already 6:30 and I don't want to be late, we don't even know where this place is and who else is going. OOH!" I cringe again, "But did you hear! Alexander is going to be there! Can you believe it..."

I stop listening and focus on getting all the runes in the right place. I chose a kick ass costume this year and I love it -despite Octavia's groans about how much of a nerd I'll look like- I got the idea from my favourite book series written by, the ultimate queen, Cassandra Clare.

This year I'm going as a Shadowhunter.

"Nove. Nove... Nove!NOVEMBER HARRIET HIGHRIVER ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING!?"

Luckily this time I'm done applying the runes, so I'm not holding my sponge, which meant I had an extra hand to catch my phone with when I dropped it again.

"Yes, yes of course I am" I hastily reply, though quite absent minded.

"Liar. Anyway I'm here, you gonna' let me me in or what?"

I gave up lecturing her about talking on the phone whilst driving long ago.

"Why can't you just ring the doorbell like a normal person?"

"Because I'm lazy. And I don't want your mother answerin-" I cut her off with unrestrained laughter, "Hey! Don't laugh at me!"

"Sor-sorry! But you th-thinking my mother's here," I try to reply through my giggles, "Honestly, you know she's never here"

At this point I've reached my front door and can see her through the window. My eyes widen at her costume. Hanging up the phone I say,

"God, you really went... all out"

She's wearing a vivid orange tulle skirt littered with gems with a striped orange basque, accompanied with daring fishnet gloves and tights and a pair of boots which looked like she'd stolen from a prostitute. Her hair seemed like it'd had an unfortunate encounter with an electric fence, framing her face like a lion's mane and her make-up was applied heavily (though she didn't need it, she was already stunning naturally) with striking black lip-stick and bold black whiskers. Of course.

"You're a cat" I state, trying to ward off the disdain from lacing through my voice.

"Ah good, you can tell" She smiled, huffing with relief and fussing over her skirt as she pushed past me into my house and up to where she knew my room was. I continue speaking as I follow her to my room.

"Of course I can! How could anyone not!You look like Crookshanks threw up a hairball on you!"

"Crookshanks?"

We reach my room and Octavia pushes through the threshold separating my room from the hallway, after a brief look of disgust she bee-lines to the mirror.
You might think that her look of disgust came from the dire state of disorganisation that my room was currently in, but no. Although piles of discarded clothes were scattered across the floor and bed, this she didn't disgust at. Although empty glasses collected in a more out-of-the-way corner of one of my bookshelves, this wasn't what caused her to recoil. Although used make-up wipes covered the table beside my mirror and make-up was spread about the room, Octavia's disapproval came from the endless piles of books that stacked every available space of the room. Books fills my shelves, my desk and my window sill. Books lay half open on the floor beside my bed and my bedside table. Books were stacked one atop the other against the wall. Books were everywhere.
While Octavia has nothing against reading, she strongly disapproves of the amount of time I spend doing it, how involved and consumed I get in their worlds, how I talk about it like it's real. To her it was fiction, to me it was another life. For her, reality is enough. For me, reality isn't enough, it will never be enough.
Now, she halts in her preening and fixing of this and that and turns around to look at me with an expression of bewilderment on her caked face. Her head cocks to one side like a confused kitten or puppy, making the look complete -though wrong, very wrong. Nothingcan be right about a sexy kitten.

"Crookshanks. The cat." I prompt.

Her face looked still blank and she turned back to the mirror. I gave up. I had tried making her watch and read the Harry Potter series time after time, trying to alight that spark I felt, in her. To make her see, make her feel what I do, but to no avail. She just didn't understand, especially not in this moment.

"Doesn't matter." I drop the subject, saying instead, "You know you look like a basic white girl in that"

"You can't say that, you're white."

"Yeah and so are you"

"You still can't say that"

"Just did"

"Eugh" She sighed, exasperated but gave up, "Whatever, are you ready?"

"I think so, what do you think of my costume?"

I look in the full-length mirror myself now, nudging her out of the way.
Black, leather-look high-waisters, plain black corset -not the lingerie type, despite Octavia's persuading- and tall, plat-formed boots (black of course) that make me look about 4 inches taller than I actually was. My make-up was my usual basic: black eye liner rimming my wash-out blue eyes – with wings this time -I'd gone all out- cherry red lipstick, eyebrows pencilled and mascara (of course) though I'd skipped the foundation because I was lazy and hadn't dared touch the stuff (utterly clueless). I approved of my look, especially loving the runes I 'd decked over my skin, fake tattoos ordered off of eBay. I looked like an actual Shadowhunter!
I was so excited.

"You're fangirl is showing" was Octavia's reply. My smiled dropped and I hit her playfully in the arm.

"Shut up. At least I don't look like an advertisement for Durex"

Her face took an expression of amused shock.

"Bitch. I look fabulous and you know it"

"Yeah" I acquiesce, she did look hot, "But you'll have to be careful that boys' saliva doesn't stain your clothes"

We're both in fits laughing now, Octavia's eyes start to water.

"Stop! Stop! You're going to ruin my make-up!" she exclaims, dabbing precariously at her eyes.

"And we all know what a shame that would be"

She hits me this time and trots back to the mirror to fuss over her make-up again. Once she deems it fabulous, she turns back to me.

"Come on, we've got to go"

"How's my hair?" my wavy copper hair gives me trouble to no end, tonight it's pulled back into a long, curly high ponytail with loose strands hanging under my ears and forehead.

"Fabulous" is her reply. I swear that's her new favourite word. God, she needs to read more, "NOW, COMEONWOMAN! Let's GO"

"Okay, okay. Just let me grab my bag" already packed on my bed waiting, I swing it over my shoulder.

"Do you really need all that? What is even in there?" she wrestles my bag from me and dumps the contents on my bed, "A book!? Really!? We're going to a partynot a library!"

"I can't not take a book!" I protest, getting defensive.

"You can and you will. You don't need all of this" she gestures to my bag's contents strewn across my bed. Book -Fangirl, by Rainbow Rowell- Ipod, Tablets, Phone, hand sanitiser and the rest, "What are you? A mother?"

"NO!" I snatch the book from her grasp. "I might need it"

"No you won't. You're not taking a bag"

"What about my phone?"

She takes my phone from the pile and stuffs it deep down her cleavage.

"There. Problem solved." she countered with an air of satisfaction.

"Problem NOT solved. How am I going to use it if it's in your boobs? What if someone calls me?"

She laughs.

"Yeah, that'sgoing to happen, now come on"

Slightly offended -but knowing it's the truth- I check over my room and begin to walk to the door, trying to assure myself I hadn't forgotten anything.

"OH! I almost forgot!" I grab the holster from the bed and attach it to my thigh before hastily shoving the blade through it.

"Whatisthat?"Octavia cries, looking aghast at my thigh.

"That, my friend, is a seraph blade. Fake of course." a smile of pride and superiority takes over my face, quite pleased with my ensemble. Octavia clearly disagrees.

"Eugh, just get to the car"

Her head hung low in defeat, her hair falling over her face so that she resembled Cousin Itt from The Addams Family. She drags me out of my room and the front door, never looking back until my front door was at our backs. I turn and lock it quickly, the movement routine then stop and look down at my keys. I stare at them for a moment -debating the situation- then, adopting Octavia's method, stuff them down my bra.

"You can't tell, can you?" I ask her, looking down at my cleavage, angling my body to face her.

"No, now please let's GO!"

"Okay, I'm coming. I'm coming!"

I rush over to her car and drop myself into the passenger's seat, beside where Octavia now sat tapping her foot impatiently. Octavia was an extremely privileged 17 year old. She only passed her test last month and her parents had already gotten her a brand new car as a well-done gift. It was a roaring red Ford KA and I quite fancied it.

"You got the address?" I ask her as she starts the ignition.

"Erm... no"

I smile.

"Good, I have it" I knew she'd forget.

She rolls her eyes at my smile of superiority.

"Just tell me it"

"Ashthorn Manor, Shadoxhurst"

"Oooh, sounds posh" she reels, tapping the address into the Sat-Nav, "This is going to be a night to remember!"

My stomach begins to churn and dance itself into an endless knot as she drives out of my street and onto the road ahead.