Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 122216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
“Whatcha doing?”
I let out a small scream and almost jump off the sofa.
“You scared the crap out of me.” I sit up and throw my legs over the side of the sofa.
Laura plops down on the arm of the chair. She’s in her pajamas. I don’t know how she’s not freezing. Both of our homes sit in front of a long stretch of woods, which makes the winters bitterly cold.
She appeared out of nowhere one night claiming she lived down the street and needed a cup of sugar. For the next month, every night she would claim to need something. I’m guessing what she really needed was a friend, and I didn’t have any of those, so I wasn’t opposed to it. Somehow, she managed to get my phone number out of me and steal a key to my back door out of my junk drawer. That’s the story of our friendship. Laura is always lurking around somewhere. I still don’t know exactly where she lives, because I only venture out if I have to, and she’s always over at my house so there’s no need for me to go to hers.
“I’m out of bacon.” Of course she is. Why else would someone use the key they stole from you to enter your home? Because they were out of bacon. “And I wanted to see how it was going. You’ve been so busy.” She rolls her eyes.
We’ve become best friends over the past two years. A friendship that was forced upon me. She is relentless, I’ll give her that. She’s also loyal. I actually thought she might be imaginary, but my ever-depleting stores of perishable goods say otherwise.
“He broke my wreath.” I point toward the table. She hops up, going over to look.
“That fucker.” She clucks her tongue.
“We aren't killing him,” I say before she can.
She smirks. “Bacon.”
I motion to the fridge. She walks over to it, snagging a bottle of water out of it and not the bacon. I wonder if she ever uses the stuff she claims to come over for.
“I think you’re being too nice.” She takes a swig of her water. “He broke your wreath. You’ve been working on it for days.”
I hadn't told Laura about the neighbor last year. We weren’t as close then, and well, I thought she might be a spy. Stupid, I know, but why else would someone come strolling out from the woods? Yet, Christmas had passed and Laura was still around. This year she knew what was going on, because I started prepping in July. I had to. Some of the things needed to be ordered from other countries. It takes time to get that specialized stuff shipped in.
“Poor little birdie.” She pets the mangled cardinal.
“He didn’t really break it,” I mumble.
“But you said—”
“I slammed the door and it fell off.”
“Did you slam the door in his face?” This perks her up. “Did it knock him on his noggin?”
“I slammed the door in his house’s face.” I point out the window. I hate that house. If I had some Laura in me, I’d burn it down, but I don’t. I don’t think I’ve ever yelled at anyone in my life.
“You’re mad.” Her smile grows. “Your cheeks are all red and flushed because you’re so angry.”
I know. I drop my hand realizing I’m still pointing at his house. I’ve never been this angry. He pulled this from me, and I don’t like it. I also have this need inside me to beat him. Though, like I said, it’s not a competition. Not at all.
“What did he do already?” she asks, and it finally dawns on her to go look out the window. “Holy shit.” She turns to look at me. “He’s good.”
“That’s not helping.”
“I don’t think we can burn that down.” She gives a ‘too bad’ shrug.
“Still not helping.” I fall back onto the sofa again.
“Come on.” She walks over, looking down at me. “You can beat him.”
“I don’t want to beat him,” I say with perfect clarity.
“You don’t?” She scrunches her face.
“I want to destroy him. I want him to regret the day he decided to buy Christmas decorations to one-up me.”
“He’s competing on Christmas. That’s messed up, right? Why doesn't he do Halloween like a normal person?”
I smack her arm.
“Hey.” She shrugs. “Just saying.”
“Halloween is ugly with spiders and blood.” Now I’m the one scrunching my face. “Christmas is magical.”
“I know. Halloween is my favorite. You should’ve seen my place.” She hitches a thumb at the woods. “It was super spooky.”
“You’ve never invited me over.”
“You don’t leave the house.” She peers down her nose at me. “I was being a good friend not inviting you.”
“Oh.” That is kind of nice actually. “I don’t want to be a bridesmaid either, if it ever comes to that.”
“Hard limit. You’ll wear the dress.”