Halloween was always a big deal at Tannyhill—almost as big as Christmas. Blow-up ghosts and inflatable pumpkins were staked into the lawn, purple and black tinsel wrapped around the white pillars by the front door, fake cobwebs and spiders stretched across every window and railing. Even the windows had those cheap, neon-orange “Caution: Do Not Enter” stickers slapped crookedly onto them. It looked like Party City threw up, but in a kind of charming, this-is-just-how-they-do-it-here way.

Most Halloweens, Rafe’s parents went somewhere cold and fancy, Wheezie ran around the neighborhood trick-or-treating with her friends, and Sarah? Fuck knows. Rafe didn’t know, and Rafe didn’t care. It meant freedom. Real freedom.

So this year, Rafe took that freedom and turned it into a party. Not just a party—a blowout. Basically every teenager in the Outer Banks packed inside the Cameron house and its backyard. Loud music made the ground vibrate, colored lights flashed, teenagers screamed and laughed, couples pressed against walls and doorframes. Everybody was dressed up—cheap costumes, expensive costumes, costumes that made no sense at all. The whole place buzzed.

You, sweet as sugar, were dressed as a deer—big, sparkling doe eyes, soft brown makeup on your nose and cheeks, little white freckles dotted across the bridge of your nose. Topper, your golden-boy boyfriend, had gone as the hunter. Khaki, flannel, a toy rifle slung around his shoulder. Everyone who passed the two of you cooed and gushed, saying it was the cutest thing ever. Topper just grinned proudly, keeping you tucked into his side like he was showing you off.

You were wedged between Topper and Kelce on the couch, the two of them talking over you about something you weren’t even pretending to follow. You were only half-listening anyway—waiting for Rafe to finally show up and stop messing with drinks and flirting with whatever girl he was on tonight.

Rafe—Mr. Cameron himself—had gone as Ghostface. Real original, you thought. But… annoying as he was, he made it work. Tall, broad, and stupidly dramatic, the robe sweeping behind him.

“RAHH!”

Huge hands slammed down on your shoulders from behind, and you screamed, your whole body jumping. You whipped around, heart in your throat, and there he was—Ghostface mask tilted slightly like he was grinning underneath, shoulders shaking because he was laughing so hard.

Fuckin’ idiot.

“You scared, girl?” Rafe drawled, voice muffled but somehow still smug. Before you could shove him, he hooked his hands under your arms and lifted you up like it was nothing, dropping you right into Topper’s lap so he could flop down between his two best friends.

He spread his legs wide, arms thrown behind the couch, letting out an exaggerated groan like he’d just come back from war instead of terrorizing party guests.