I first met Jackson when I was a freshman and he was a sophomore, so we've known each other for four years now. We were both involved with the theater program in our high school. We were the type of kids that always sat together at lunch, wore strange thrift-store outfits, and cracked each other up with obscure pop culture references. And of course we sang and danced and monologued.
Jackson was the one who first mentioned Castle of Terror to me. He meant it as a joke, but I took him seriously. I was looking for ways to get my volunteer hours done for the semester, and he suggested the Halloween attraction. I think he was expecting me to shriek with mock terror at the very idea, but I was pretty excited from the start.
I've always loved being scared. Halloween is my favorite holiday, and not just because of all the chocolate. I love the feel of being surprised, sitting in a dark theater and jumping out of my seat when something pops up with a shriek as the music builds. The goosebumps, the adrenaline surge. It's wonderful.
I showed up at Castle of Terror that first year and promptly got put at the ticket booth. Oh, yay. Nowhere close to the excitement. It turned out to be okay, though, because I got to see the people leaving the house. They were flushed, clinging to each other, laughing with excitement and relief, limbs loose. They could have just as easily been walking out of a bedroom as a haunted house.
Jackson was a part of the actual haunted house, and it made me jealous. He got to dress up and scare people: an insane ax murderer that first year, a disembodied head the second year, and a plant last year. The plant thing was a little strange, but he explained he was in a room beside a friend of his in an old grandma costume. Guests in the castle walked into the room, expecting the grandma character to jump at them, but then the plant attacked.
This year, Jackson and I were in a room together. My stomach was in a flurry about it. For three years, we had danced around each other, flirting, teasing, but never actually crossing the line. He was dating someone when I started high school, and by the time he broke up with her, I was dating someone else. It went back and forth like that, both of us interested in each other but the timing never quite working out.
Until this past summer. I had just graduated and Jackson was home from college. We ended up hanging out a lot. We picked up right where we had left off, with the teasing and joking and flirting. Except there seemed to be a little more behind the flirting this time. Neither one of us was dating anyone at the time, but it was suddenly time for me to leave for college, and neither one of us had made a move.
We were both home from college to help with the Castle this fall, and the tension between us was thick enough to cut with a knife. And now I was about to spend a night with him in a dark room.
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I pulled on the tight black leggings of my costume, the black spandex clinging to my bottom. The top was equally tight, stretching over my arms, shoulders, and torso. I slid my feet into the black foot coverings and my hands into the black gloves. I checked my reflection in the mirror and then pulled the hood over my head. The image was complete. I was covered from the top of my head to the bottom of my feet by a tight black bodysuit punctuated with large fluorescent blue, yellow, and pink dots.
There was a knock on the door. "Ready?" Jackson called.
"I'm ready," I called back, feeling a small flurry in my stomach. I opened the door and he was standing there, dressed just like me. Tight black bodysuit covered with fluorescent dots. The room we would be in had black walls covered with dots the same size and color as ours. The only light in the room was a blacklight, so we'd disappear completely.
Once we got in the room and turned off the lights, it took a minute to get over the vertigo. The dots were everywhere, even on the floor and the ceiling, so my sense of direction was a little off at first.
Jackson and I moved around, getting used to the space and the light. We'd reach out, brushing by each other, figuring out how to tell where we were. After a few minutes, we were able to move around the room more easily.
Thomas, a Castle volunteer, came through the room.
"Open for business," he said, moving through the room and out the other door. He'd stand outside the exit and open the door to let people leave after a minute of disorienting fear in the room with us.
Jackson and I went to our corners. As we passed in the middle of the room, I felt his hand briefly slide down my flank. Goosebumps rose in its wake and I shivered slightly, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. I had high hopes for this Castle. Maybe after we were finished with two weeks of being in a dark room together, we'd finally be able to say, "Hey, I really like you." I shook my head. Guess we'll see how it goes.
We stood facing each other across the room, quiet and still. It didn't take long for the first group to come in. Three girls, maybe a year or two younger than me, came in.
"Whoa," one of them said. "This room is crazy." She was trying to sound nonchalant, but I knew they'd had to go through three other rooms to get to us, and they were a bit shaken. They were clinging to each other pretty tightly, giggling nervously, trying to peer into the invisible corners of the room.
We gave them a few seconds to look around, and then charged. Waving our arms and screaming, Jackson and I flailed in from our opposite corners. I'm about 5'10" and he's well over six feet tall. We're both pretty lanky, so when we flail, we FLAIL. Coupled with the disorienting decoration scheme, the effect is terrifying.
Their screams were intensely satisfying. Full-bellied, full-throated, unrestrained screams of fear. Awesome. As quickly as we appeared, we disappeared back into the depths of the room. Before the screams had completely subsided, the exit door opened. The girls left the room clinging to each other even more tightly. The instant the exit closed behind them, another group was ushered in.
The night had officially started.
It didn't take long for me and Jackson to get into a rhythm. Start in opposite corners, charge diagonally, make a LOT of noise, retreat into corners across the room. Repeat process.
About 30 minutes into it, though, Jackson veered slightly off-course. I couldn't see him clearly, but the dots moving in front of me looked a little different. As he charged the couple in the center of the room, his hand brushed against me again.
I swiped at him as I passed him, connecting briefly with some part of him. His back, maybe. It was tough to tell.
After that, we managed to make contact on every pass. It was amusing, but it was also starting to turn me on a little. I never knew what part of him I might accidentally grab. And I have to admit, I wasn't aiming for his elbow.
