Page 14 of Stranger Danger

“Beck! I can’t see around you!” a girl shouts behind me. “I’m filming a video. Move.”

I can’t even breathe for a second, let alone move my body.

Someone’s talking…

To me.

It’s not a prank, or a stunt, or an ARG, or whatever everyone else is making it out to be. This is personal. Do they know I go here? Is this posted all over Eunice? Cleveland? I haven’t checked social media all day. Am I going to go on TikTok and find a Polaroid meant for me plastered on my For You page?

I let go and stuff my hands in my pockets, trying to calm my frantically beating heart.

The regular part of me realizes I should be scared. This could be something from the police—but I really don’t think it is. Maybe that’s just me being far too optimistic. Still…

A smile cracks over my face.

I can’t believe the psycho who ruined my Friday night also makes me feel special.

Horror Enthusiasts is a club with a bunch of nerds, and I’m proud to say that I’m one of the two founding fathers of the weirdos. Sam runs the whole thing—his class load is way less taxing than mine—and he loves horror paraphernalia more than I do. I could spend two days in a Halloween store and be perfectly content, whereas he wants to go tour old Hollywood sets and look at behind-the-scenes footage.

Sadly, we lost half our members when people graduated last year.

Sam shuts off the vintage VHS we finished watching and holds up the cover. “What say ye?”

“The killer drove me nuts,” a freshman girl says. “Who’s going to go around killing for shits and giggles?”

I point at her, eyebrows raised, and she starts nodding vigorously.

“Right?” Her voice squeaks. “I wanted one second of like, this is why I’m doing this.”

“Maybe the writer wanted a shock film,” Leon says, shaking a box of candy into his mouth.

The bean bag shifts.

“Why does there need to be a why?” Ira asks.

“Because. Put yourself in the actor’s role.” She sits up in the chair and moves the popcorn bag to the floor. “You’re practicing your lines and delivery, but there’s zero motivation. Or—or direction. Personally, I’d want something concrete.”

I’m nodding right along with her.

“The audience doesn’t need to wonder why the killer is doing what he’s doing,” I say. “There should be a reason for his art. If not, it comes across sloppy and amateur.”

She slaps her thighs. “Thank you!”

Sam snort-laughs and Leon chuckles.

“That’s dumb,” Ira mutters.

Every eye snaps over to him, and he covers his mouth like he realizes what he said.

“Isn’t it?” he tries, a little quieter. He pushes his hair behind his ears, then pulls it back. “It’s a movie, right? It’s about having fun. I really liked it.”

“You know what I really liked?” Leon crumples up the cardboard candy box and leans forward on his knees like he’s about to explain the universe to the five of us. “The bulletin board.”

“I keep telling you, I didn’t do that shit,” Sam groans. He throws his head back dramatically, then chucks the movie box at Leon. “It wasn’t us!”

“So we take credit. It’s got crazy online traction.”

The freshman raises her hand. “Yeah. Guilty. It’s why I came here today.”