Page 49 of How (Not) to Conjure a Boyfriend
“Sorry!” I yelp, and lower the beam.
He grins, but his lips are thin and tight. It’s not a smile. “It’s fine.”
I smile back, trying not to giggle. This is going to be great.
I go to turn back around, and he lets go of my arm but immediately grabs my hand and threads his fingers between mine.
“Nothing weird, just scared shitless.” Zach nods.
If I couldn’t feel his entire hand shaking, I’d think it was weird, but damn, he’s horrified. Now I feel sort of bad. Part of me finds it funny, but I also know I’d hate Kaitlynn if she draggedme into something I didn’t want to do. Why the hell did he even come? Oh yeah, that’s my fault.
I nod and squeeze his hand. It’s the only thing that seems acceptable, and I’m not going to lie, having his hand is easing a little of the tension in my chest, plus they… No. Just less tense. That’s it.
“We can stop,” I say, looking at the door setting ajar in front of us, with who knows what waiting to be discovered. I’m not expecting much anymore, not after how empty it’s been so far, but maybe.
“You said ten minutes,” Zach says and taps the face of his smartwatch. “We’ve got six left.”
“You sure?” I skew my lips.
“Don’t make me second-guess it.” He feigns a smile.
“Okay,” I say, and pull open the door.
Behind the door is a long hallway. I can see where photos once hung, at least where the wallpaper is still up, because it’s not as dusty in those spots. There is hardwood running up the wall from the floor to about waist height. It’s hideous, and even with my light I can’t see the end of the hall. Despite the void at the end, I already count two doors, one on each side.
“Right or left.” I give our options.
“Does it matter?” Zach asks.
“Left,” I say, and guide us around the doorframe.
The first sign of anyone ever living here sets in front of us. It’s an old metal bedframe shoved in the corner. No mattress, no box spring, no leftover pillows, just the frame.
“Why’d they leave that?” Zach asks.
“Not like they needed it.” I shrug and earn an elbow to my side.
“You know what I mean,” he says, tugging me back into the hallway.
I let him lead, trying not to squeeze his hand. It’s soft, but I can feel the roughness from his work. Something about it makes me want to hold on. It’s…I don’t know. It’s calming? I like haunted houses, but it’s usually because they scare the shit out of me. I like the thrill, but I also like this odd calm in the middle of it all.
“Come on.” Zachary tugs again, and I realize I zoned out for a moment.
“Sorry, yeah,” I say, and take the lead again.
Why am I feeling like this? In the afterglow of my flashlight, I can just make out Zach’s silhouette and a few faint features, but I refuse to look him in the eyes. His jaw is clenched tight, and his lips quiver. Having his hand makes me feel…not safe, but strong, and I never feel strong.
“You go first,” Zachary says when we get to the next door.
“So much for my knight in shining armor,” I giggle.
“Ha,” he huffs. The sarcasm dripping.
I step around the open doorframe and find much of the same. Another bedframe, but this time there’s a crinkled-up piece of plastic lying next to the bed. I inch closer to inspect it. An empty pack of crackers.
“Has someone been here lately?” I ask more to myself than Zach.
“I’m sorry, what?” He steps back, unintentionally pulling me back with him.
