Archive of Our Own

Just after your tenth birthday, your brother announced that he wanted to move up north— way up north, out of Texas and the whole southern half of the country— because living in the northwest would make his job easier. That's how he explained it. He said that the region was a better market for his Internet shops, but you told him that that didn't explain why he had to move there, since it didn't matter where his customers lived— they all shopped online. He countered that it would be easier to gain their attention by being in the area, even if he still kept all his shops online-only.

That was how he explained it, and it did make some sense, but you still had your doubts. You'd both done fine for ten years on what he earned from Internet advertising alone. You were by no means wealthy, but you had enough to afford what you needed and a little of what you wanted. Your brother isn't stupid, but neither are you, and when the move-in date for your new home— an actual house— in a suburb of Seattle was scheduled for early August, you began to catch on to the real reason for the move.

Your suspicions were confirmed when you found out the moving company didn't show up on the scheduled date because they actually had it scheduled for September. Your brother just shrugged and rented a room at a shitty motel for a month. Not long after, he enrolled you in a small elementary school just a few blocks from your almost-house. Your school was a lot nicer than the one you went to back in Houston. It didn't really make a difference to you, though. You lived out of the motel room for your first month of school, and once in a while Dirk would joke about being given the wrong move-in date, but after the first week neither of you mentioned it anymore. Since the room had piss poor Internet connection, the move actually put some financial strain on your brother, and that's when you realized that the hurry he was in to get here was for your sake. Whether the plan actually was to improve business or just to get you out of Houston doesn't matter to you now. You've adjusted to your new school and you moved in to the actual house three weeks ago, and while the change in weather came a lot faster and harsher than it did in Texas, you've been fairing well.

For the last two weeks you've been rearranging furniture in your room and it's not until the last week of October that you finally feel content with how your dresser and desk look against the wall and where your bed is situated across from the single window in the room. It's that week when you drag in the other boxes from the living room that were labeled with your name and are filled with your stuff, and hide them away in your closet. You'll take things out as you need them; you're in no hurry to unpack your stuff.

Everyday after school you come home to find a small dent made in the stacks of boxes still left in the living room, and you spend your evenings helping to make the stacks smaller.

It doesn't cross your mind to be excited for Halloween, which is fast approaching. You're too busy unpacking to even notice the onset of fall, aside from the change in weather that has you unpacking your sweaters and new heavier winter gear. It isn't until the Friday before Halloween that anyone even brings it up to you, and it's the teacher who asks your class their plans for the holiday who reminds you just how close it is to the end of the month. Since it falls on a Monday, most kids just plan to Trick-or-Treat and when your teacher asks you what your plans are, you say the same. You don't mention that you don't have a costume or even any candy to hand out back home, but she moves on to the next kid before you think to change your answer.

It doesn't bother you much when the realization that you probably won't be Trick-or-Treating this year hits you. It wasn't exactly a common occurrence back in Houston either, after years of your brother accompanying you and scaring the shit out of smaller kids with his puppets made his coolness factor drop a little, just for that one night each year, and made you tired of having to share your candy with him. You're thankful he was considerate enough to not bring any of the really weird puppets outside of the apartment. While he makes his living off selling them, they are weird enough to embarrass you if someone else saw them, which you make sure nobody would, at least not long enough to realize what they were before you can kick them under a chair or into another room. Even in your new house, there are puppets everywhere already, more than you remember Dirk having. There's actually a lot of stuff here that you don't remember having before, but all of it is covered in puppets or swords and that's enough like the apartment to make this place feel more like home.

While you've both been unpacking off and on pretty much constantly over the last week, there's still a considerable number of boxes left in the living room that weekend. The kitchen is mostly put together, and resembles the one in your Houston apartment almost exactly, except that it's already cluttered with more of Bro's stuff, and he insists that the Doritos be kept in the highest cabinet. You think it's meant to create a challenge for you but it's easier to reach the top cabinet than it us to navigate the minefield of swords and other assorted sharp objects in the fridge.

The furniture in the living room is in place, and while the tv hasn't been hooked up yet, you have the radio and Dirk's mixing equipment for entertainment. You don't particularly like the station he keeps the radio on, but he says it's the best you can get in the area.

It was Sunday night when a  commercial with cheesy horror movie music came on and you mentioned offhandedly that Halloween was the next day. It was too late to get a costume, but when you got home from school today you found an open bag of assorted candy in the kitchen. Bro wasn't nearby so you took a few, and since then you've been taking a handful every time you take a break from unpacking. You're sure he's seen you do so at least once and you've come to the conclusion that he got you the bag to make up for the lack of a cool costume.

The light outside your front door remains off when the night starts to set in, so you're sure now that the candy was for you only.

When you move your newly hung curtains to look outside, you see quite a few families and groups of older kids all up and down your street. A couple houses down the road have jack-o-lanterns and one has fake smoke, probably from a dry ice machine, and some more elaborate decorating and you think that's pretty cool. Apparently so do the other kids, because that house gets the most attention from what you can see.

Bro is unpacking a box labeled "prop appliances" and you've just finished untangling a pile of cords when you decide it's time for an aj break. You get up off the floor and crack your neck as you make your way to the kitchen and retrieve a bottle from behind all the swords.

Other than the radio, it's relatively quiet in the house. You hear the sounds of cardboard on cardboard from the living room and occasionally a loud scream or laugh from outside, but the crunching of your plastic juice bottle seems louder.

The bottle is loud enough that when the doorbell rings, you aren't sure if it's actually your door or the radio. You look into the living room in confusion and your brother is still unpacking, and when he makes no move to get up or even acknowledge the sound, you return to your box.

A few seconds later you hear him say, "Well?"

You answer, "Well?"

"You were up first. Thought you were going to get it." He's still unpacking. He hasn't even looked up.

"The porch light's off." A justifiable reason for not answering the door on Halloween, you think.

He shrugs, but without another word of retort, you get up to answer the door.

Outside is a kid with a poorly made ghost costume. He says, "Trick or treat!" and he sounds like an excited dork and you want to laugh because he's wearing glasses over the holes in the sheet, rather than under it.

You keep a hand on the knob and lean against the doorframe, not letting the door open past where you're standing. "Ain't got no candy," you say, adding a shrug to your voice instead of your shoulders.

It's dark and the boy's face is hidden by the sheet so you can't see his reaction, but he doesn't move. His hands still hold the handle of his pumpkin-shaped bucket out towards you, and instead of leaving or asking why there's no candy, he surprises you.

"Are your glasses part of your costume?"

You let your eyebrows draw together behind said glasses and you have to tell yourself not to get huffy.

"Are yours?" That was mean but you mean for it to offend. It doesn't. He laughs. Before he can actually give an answer, you say, in the same tone as earlier, "I ain't got no costume."

"Well, I've never seen pointy shades! They look like they'd be part of a costume."

"Don't diss the shades."

"I'm not! It's just dumb," he says, and you almost respond with 'you're dumb', but he continues before you can. "You not having a costume. Kids are supposed to have costumes. It's like, a rule!" His shoulders shift beneath the sheet and he lowers the pumpkin to one side.

"Well it's no worse than your costume. I've never seen a ghost with glasses."

"Have you seen a real ghost at all, though?"

You don't know what he's drawing this out for, but he's probably waiting for you to say something like 'surprise I tricked you haha here's your candy'. Instead, you say, "Doesn't matter."

You wait for him to leave but he doesn't move so you stand in silence until he speaks again. "How old are you?" It isn't really a weird question, you get it from people all the time. When you're young, one year can make a lot of difference. "I mean, I'm ten and you look ten, too."

"I'm almost eleven," you say.

"Wow," says  ghostboy.

"Jesus Christ, just give the kid some candy," says Bro from the living room.

Ghostboy doesn't move or say anything else so you leave the door open and retrieve your bag of candy from the kitchen. Visibly frowning— to show off your sour mood, because that was your candy— you glare at Bro on your way back to the door and you glare at ghostboy as you fish around for your least favorite candies. You pull out a handful of Reese's cups and hold them out to him.

"I don't like Reese's," he says. You put them back in the bag.

"You're not getting any Snickers," you say as you dig out a few other candies.

"I don't like Snickers either. Nut allergy."

"Holy shit." If your language bothered him he doesn't show it. "That sucks."

You end up giving him a bunch of fruity candies, like Skittles and Laffy Taffy and Jolly Ranchers, because he's not allergic to them. While you're digging through your bag, he removes a few Snickers bars from his and you trade him a few Whoppers bags. "You have a lot of boxes," he says as the trade takes place, and you think he's talking about the box of Nerds you dropped in his bucket. "Did you just move in?"

Oh. "Yeah."

"Are you from Texas? You sound Texan."

"Houston," you say, and you add a grape Tootie Pop to his now overflowing bucket.

"We have a problem," he laughs and you quirk an eyebrow just high enough for him to see it over your shades.

"Houston," he adds, quickly, and moves his bucket out of your reach.

"Too much candy, not enough bucket."

"Oh." Yeah, your bag is a lot lighter now.

He backs down your porch steps. Candies nearly fall as he raises his hand in a wave and thanks you, but he catches them and you watch as he leaves your yard and heads down the street, not stopping at any other houses.

You close the door and take your bag back to the living room with you. You guess Bro looks up as you take your place on the floor by your tangles of cords, because he says, "You didn't have to give him half of your bag."

"He was allergic to all the good stuff," you say.

"The kid's got guts for going to the house with the lights off."

You think he was a dork who didn't know you aren't supposed to go to the dark houses, but you just shrug in response as you go back to untangling cords.

As soon as you leave the sunglasses kid's house, you head straight home. There wasn't enough room in your bucket to get the rest of the houses on your street, but you only miss three, so you don't think it's a tragedy. Your dad only agreed to let you go alone if you stayed on your street, and you thought one bucket would be enough for that. Next year, you'll be better prepared.

One full bucket is still a decent amount of candy, especially considering your dad's baking tendencies.

When you arrive home, you can immediately sense the freshly baked goods inside. It's not like he never does anything but bake, but there's rarely a day when you don't have any of your dad's desserts around. At ten, you have no reason to be worried about your weight, you try not to eat too much of it anyway, but the frequency with which he bakes does strike you as a bit weird. Typically, kids complain about not having enough dessert, but your dad always goes out of his way to make you as unhealthy as possible.

Sometimes, instead of the cakes just striking you as a funny quirk of your dad's, they strike you in the face. Your dad gets a big kick out of physical humor and you think he might be trying to pass that on to you. You already find it funny, even without his influence. Actually, preferably without his influence— cakes are messy.

Inside, you slowly peek around the corner between your living room and kitchen, not daring to enter in case he has an attack planned. He's standing over the oven, oven mitts on his hands and pipe smoke rising over his hat, and you warily greet him with a 'boo' while maintaining your position of safety behind the doorway.

"How did it go, son?" he asks and turns to face you, slipping off the oven mitts and removing the pipe from his mouth.

It seems safe enough, so you enter the kitchen and grin as you hold up the bucket. A few pieces fall and you scramble to catch them before they hit the floor. Your dad seems impressed and he gives you a nod.

You've gotten used to having to share your candy with your dad, since you can't eat any of the ones with nuts and there's no point in letting them go to waste. A good portion of tonight's catch will go to him for that reason. This reminds you of the boy who went out of his way to give you candy you could actually eat and you tell your dad this as you dump the candy on the counter for sorting. You take your sheet off and leave it hanging over the back of a chair, then you get to work on your pile while he continues baking, chatting as you do.

"They're from Texas," you say, still talking about your new neighbors. "From Houston? So I said, 'Houston, we have a problem' but I didn't use a cool astronaut voice, so it didn't sound that great. And-"

You catch movement out of the corner of your eye— how could you have let your guard down? You turn quickly to see your dad with a pie in hand. He chuckles.

You reach for your bucket— a shield— and knock some of the candy off the counter in your haste. It's in front of your face now, but that doesn't mean you're fully protected. He won't hurt you, but you really don't want to have to clean up a mess of pie right now.

"Dad," you warn, and he sets the pie down, but you won't be fooled. You keep the bucket firmly in place.

"Just kidding. It's still hot," he says with a wide smile and he holds his hands up in a display of surrender as he moves in a wide circle around you, towards the living room. You follow behind with the bucket.

"So, you say we have new neighbors," he looks for your confirmation as he takes a seat on the couch. You explain again that they came from Texas, and must have only moved in pretty recently, judging by all the boxes and disorganization inside their home.

Your dad seems pretty impressed that the kid was willing to pick candy out specifically for you and he asks which house it was. You move to the window and point it out for him. Most of the houses on your street have gone dark, so you have to point to it a few times before he can tell it apart from the others. He puffs on his pipe a few times and nods.

You get up early the next morning to bake another pie with your dad. He insisted that you bring something to welcome them to the neighborhood and to thank them for the candy. Instead of bringing one of the pies he had made the night before, he wants to make a fresh one, and since the only type of pie you still have the right amount of ingredients for is apple, that's the kind of pie you end up carrying over around noon.

You don't know if the kid who lives there goes to school or is homeschooled like you, but he isn't home, and a man answers the door instead. He looks kind of like the boy from yesterday, but he also looks like he just woke up. He introduces himself as Dirk Strider and invites you inside.

"Is your son home?" your dad asks as he sets the pie on the table. Dirk reacts pretty negatively to that, which you don't really understand. It turns out Dirk and Dave are brothers and they don't live with their parents.

The adults chat and you listen and take in the new information you're learning. Before you know it, they're shaking hands and Dirk is telling your dad to bring more pies.

You think your dad feels bad for them, not living with their parents and all, because a few days later he bakes a cake and you don't get any of it. It becomes something of a regular occurrence for him to bring cakes, and sometimes actual dinner foods, to the Strider household. You don't accompany him any of the times after the first, and it's another year before you see either of the Striders.

You don't see either of the Egberts until the next Halloween, or maybe you do, but since you have no idea what either of them look like, you don't think you see them. Ghostboy, whose name is John, according to your brother, never comes with his dad when he delivers his cakes and other foods. You're never around to see the elder Egbert, either because for some reason, he only comes by while you're at school. Bro stays home most days, since he manages his sites from home, and always gets first dibs on the cakes.

You started middle school in August. It really isn't much different from your last school, but there are a lot more kids in your grade. You manage to befriend a few and you work your way into a popular group, but that's not really true, because you didn't have an active part in it at all. Most of the time, you sat in the front of class, partly because it was the opposite of what people expected you do to, and partly because, without your shades, the light made it hard enough to see, so you figured you might as well sit close enough that you don't have to squint. Some kids thought it was brave of you to sit up front, since that doesn't deter you from using your phone in class. If anything, it made the teacher suspect you less. But you were the only one who could pull it off, and your peers respected you for that, begrudgingly at first, but more as time went on.

After the first few weeks, you were invited to the cool lunch tables, and not long after, you became first pick when told to pair up. The other kids must have taken your front row choice of seating to mean you were a smart and diligent student, and although you used your phone sometimes, you did actualy pay attention, so their assumptions weren't exactly wrong. It wasn't surprising when a group started to gather around you. It wasn't surprising that the first to form it were popular girls, either. It wasn't that they liked you, at least no more than anyone else, but being around you was like being in the spotlight. The group that gathered kept growing, and you let it, because more people in the group meant less attention for each, and you were enjoying the bit of irony in that situation.

It wasn't any of these kids whom you befriended. Sure, you talked to them and acted friendly enough (in your own way) and some of them were actually decent people, but you knew that they were just using you.

No, the friends you are proud to have made were the ones who didn't laugh at every joke or follow you around the school, but the ones that would actualy joke back without hesitating. Or talk about things that weren't categorized as 'gossip topics'. While you do think you're funny and clever for an eleven year old, you know you're not as funny as most of your followers make you out to be.

You value your real friends more, even if you don't really talk about it, or talk much at all outside of school.

The only one you do talk to outside of school is Rose. While she doesn't take to your humor as quickly as others, she does find some of it funny, and she's pretty skilled when it comes to keeping up with your metaphors, sometimes throwing in witty commentary herself. You put up with her sarcastic attitude in return, and sometimes people refer to you as the king and queen of rhetoric and sarcasm, respectively. You have something like a competitive friendship with her, verbally attacking the other whenever possible and seeing who can withstand the other for the longest. She's the only one you've given your chumhandle to, and the way she bombards you with her assumed sagacity is the reason you haven't given it to any of the others yet.

You rarely see any of your friends outside of school, so it's not surprising that when Halloween comes around, you don't have any plans to hang out with anyone. In fact, your only plans for the night are to spend it alone drawing comics and watching movies.

The night goes exactly as planned until the doorbell rings, and you groan as you roll off the couch to answer the door.

"Hi, Dave!" If you didn't recognize the voice, you'd know it's John from the costume. It's the same one as last year, but you don't see the glasses, and if he's wearing them under the sheet, they don't change the shape at all. "Wow, do you actually wear those shades all year?"

"Yeah. Do you wear the sheet all year?"

He hits you with his bucket. "No. You got any candy?"

"I'm pretty sure you're supposed to say 'trick or treat'."

He groans. "Trick or treat?"

"Sorry, we actually don't have any candy this year."

"Even after my dad made you all those cakes?"

"Why waste money on sugar when we get it for free?" You shrug. He shifts awkwardly outside. "So yeah, no candy."

He actually starts to make a whining sound, and you mirror him until he stops. Then, "Do you want a bottle of aj instead?"

"What?"

"Apple juice?"

"Haha gross." If you've felt offended at all tonight, it's now. "You haven't seen Little Monsters, have you."

He doesn't ask it as a question, and you have no idea what he's talking about, so you ignore it. "You're out of luck man, aj's all we've got."

After a long moment of silence, he sighs out a 'fine', and follows you into the house. Closing the door behind him, he asks, "So you don't have a costume or candy?"

"Nah."

"That sucks."

You're not sure why it's such a big deal to him, but you toss a bottle of aj in his direction. He catches it and drops it unceremoniously into his bucket. When you usher him out the door he tells you he'll be disappointed if you don't have a costume next year. You shrug noncommittally.

"You're really missing out," he calls from the sidewalk, but you close the door in place of response.

When you're 12 Bro buys you a costume for Halloween. You actually nagged him about it for a month and you were so sure he wasn't going to get you one. Every time you asked him he'd just answer with 'we'll see', which was never a very good sign, even when it wasn't your brother saying it (the fact that it came from him made it less likely that he'd get you anything). You resigned yourself to spending another Halloween at home with him and another Halloween that you'd have to give John your food.

This year Halloween falls on a Tuesday, and when you get home from school, Bro gives you a box and tells you it's your costume. You don't care that you hadn't gotten to pick it out yourself because at least you would have one, and you'd be spared a year of John's disappointment.
And you could totally go Trick-or-Treating and leave Bro to deal with him.

You open the box and remove the plastic covering inside, then the order confirmation paper. The first thing you notice is a weird brightly colored tie-dye pattern and you pull it out, still in it's plastic covering. Bro takes it from you before you can examine it further.

"Sorry, kid. The hat's mine. The rest is yours, though." And with that, he's left the room and you're tearing into the box much faster. A hat with those colors could only mean one thing.

Though you hadn't told your brother what you'd wanted to be, he'd managed to get you something awesome anyway. You thought it would be cool to go as a famous person, probably one of your favorite actors if you could find a costume good enough. You weren't very good at making them yourself nor did you want to hunt down the stuff it would take to put one together. But Bro had hunted a full costume down for you- a replica of an outfit worn by Michael J. Fox in one of your favorite movies.

He got you a full Marty McFly costume. It must have been from the second movie, judging from the inclusion if the hat.

It's early enough that if you put on the costume you'd be wearing it for a few hours before you'd even want to start Trick-or-Treating. You look through all the parts to the costume and put them on the table when you're done.

Fall set in faster this year than it did the last few. You've been wearing a jacket outside for the last two weeks of the month, and you think you'll have to wear at least a long sleeve shirt under your costume to survive a whole night outside.

When the sun starts to set, you get into your costume, and you're surprised to find a bowl of candy by the door when you go downstairs. Bro isn't in costume, but he's wearing your hat. It's not enough of a costume for people to recognize it, but it doesn't really matter. Your front light is on outside and he's kicked back on the couch watching a horror flick, and when the doorbell rings the first time, he gets up to pass out candy and you jump to the conclusion that it'll be John outside, so you race him to the candy bowl and when you open the door, you're taken aback slightly by the pair of kids in dragon and wizard costumes.

You weren't planning to want to see John tonight, but as more kids come to the door, and Bro let's you pass out the candy, you find yourself waiting for a familiar shitty ghost. If John knows the movie, he'll probably think your costume is awesome. You want to impress him, if only just so he'll stop complaining about your lack of festivity. Who is he to complain, anyway? He goes as a boring ghost every year. Not even a good ghost. You're pretty sure he used the same sheet every time. How is that festive?

It's dark out now and every few minutes a group of kids rings your bell. You're still waiting for John. If you go outside and happen to just miss him, you'll be incredibly pissed off. Your energy is getting out of hand and you just want to get out of the house. Desperate, you take a moment to consider going to his house to show off your hella cool costume, but the next moment you remember you don't actually know where he lives.

John's dad has brought you enough cakes that you think it would only make sense to know where they live, but you don't. Although Bro's never talked about it, you're sure he doesn't know either. Other than on Halloween, you never see John around. Of course, you're not familiar with how he looks, but you do remember he wore rectangular glasses.

Eventually Bro forces you out of the house. He says he didn't buy you the costume for nothing, and you take a plain plastic bag on your way out. You ask him to keep an eye out for John and if he sees him, to tell him to look for you. You know that John lives on your street, so if you stick around, he won't have to look far.

You find a group of kids about your age and follow them for the first few houses. You don't think about getting candy, but about possibly seeing John's dad in one if the houses. Finding him would lead you to John. You know from Bro that he wears a hat almost always, and if John takes after him, he would have black hair.

Unfortunately, there are a lot of adults on your street in costume, and you don't see anyone wearing a hat that isn't part of a costume. No shitty ghosts, either.

Your excitement to show off has been sapped and quickly replaced with more bitter emotions, and although your costume gets a few compliments, you can't find it in yourself to respond with a witty movie quote, like you'd planned to earlier.

When you get home, you don't have much candy. You don't even care to find out if John came by— you just head straight to your room.

You lie down on your bed and just stare at the ceiling for a while. The whole day went completely wrong and you don't really feel angry or bitter, not anymore. You just want to sleep. Your computer makes a sound from across the room, and you lift your head enough to see that there's a new window filling with purple text. You groan and roll over— Rose is the last person you want to speak to. 

After sulking for what feels like maybe an hour, and after your computer has long since gone dark again, you eat your way through the bag of candy. It's gone by the time you finally do pass out.

When you're thirteen, you have enough money saved up to afford a cool costume and then some, and several times over the month of October, your dad asks if you want to buy anything online. You tell him you'd rather be a ghost and spend your sum on something else. Every time, he just tells you he's proud of your money management skills and that you're going to be the most well-prepared student when you get to college, and you laugh, because that's still five whole years away.

You don't tell him the reason you don't want a cooler costume is because you've had your eyes on something else.

For two years, you laughed to yourself about Dave's dumb pointy shades. When you didn't see him last year, you began to wonder if he still wore them. Years ago, your dad told you that the elder Strider brother wore them, too, most days, and you started to think that maybe it was a family thing. It could have been a fad in Texas; you don't really know much about the South, other than what you learn from movies.

The frequency with which your dad takes the Striders cakes has declined to only once every few months or so, and when he goes, you ask him to gather information for you. You plan it out like a secret reconnaissance mission, because it's more fun for you that way, but you know that when he gets to the Strider household, your dad foregoes all his training and just asks  the questions as they are. You like to imagine you're in on some big secret and you keep the information you learn to yourself, guarding it even from your closest friends.

When you think about the information you've gained, you think you'd like Dave to be one of those friends, but you still don't really know him all that well. You know he can be pretty nice— even when he's trying not to be— from the first time you went to his house. You also know he has a sense of humor, although you've only seen a little of it, and that he can be pretty damn blunt about things. What knowledge you gather from your dad's missions become your most valued pieces of information, though. First you learn that Dave is only a few months older than you and goes to public school. If you went to public school, you'd both be in the eighth grade right now.

From the second mission, you learn that Dave is a dork, or at least, his brother's description of him makes him seem like one. When your dad tells Dirk you want to know more about his brother, he seems happy enough to help, and so you gain a person on the inside for your recon team. From this mission, you learn that Dave likes awful movies, and you don't mean awful by your own standards, but awful as in the B-movies on the Sci-Fi channel and similar cinematic garbage. He likes a few better movies, that you can appreciate for being decent enough, but none of the films are the titles you were hoping for.

He has a couple of weird collections, including dead things, you guess. You're not sure if Dirk is just pulling your leg on that one, but if he is not, that's kind of weird. You learn Dave likes music and art, too. Dirk says his brother is a pretty big fan of fine art and photography, but that he shows it in weird ways, and one day when your dad returns from a mission, he hands you a paper with a web address written on it, and you find that it's a link to a webcomic that Dave draws. The humor is weird, but it gets you to laugh a few times. The shitty art looks like it would be harder to recreate than a  Picasso painting, but you think it's still better than your own drawing skills.

You learn that Dave keeps a lot of his stuff either jammed into his closet or scattered around his room. He's not the most typically organized person, but Dirk says he can still find things when he needs them, so you guess he must be organized in some way, at least.

By the time summer rolls around, you're starting to feel really...invasive, maybe? Dave doesn't know nearly as much about you as you know about him, so you lay off the questions for a while. The last time your dad made a trip to the Strider residence, however, you had one question that was really important and only so much time to make use of the answer. And when your dad returns, you're given the best possible outcome.

Dave Strider still wears ridiculously pointy shades. You being John Egbert, and your money being a lot, you take it upon yourself to buy Dave new shades, since he obviously isn't going to do it himself. After a few hours of research online, you find a pair that are actually pretty cool, and better yet, are the actual pair used in one of the movies Dirk said Dave liked the most. They're expensive, but you've been saving up awhile, so you're devastated when your attempt to purchase them is rejected because you're just a little bit short. When you make the plea to your dad for his help, promising to pay him back when you can, he asks why it is you're so set on buying them. You can't really answer that. You don't know whether Dave would even want another pair, but even if he doesn't, you think he'll still be way happy to own a little piece of movie memorabilia. In the end, your dad agrees to help, and when the arrival date for shipping turns out to be an expected 6 weeks, you find yourself begging him again to cover the cost for expedited shipping. It's harder to convince him to do that, but you do, in fact, succeed.

You're video chatting with your friend Jade when the shades arrive a week later. Your dad brings the box to your room for you, and when you remove the shades and certificate of authenticity from the box, your friend on the screen dares you to try them on. You do, and you're a little disappointed that they don't up your own coolness factor. You worry they may not work well for Dave either. Jade takes a screenshot while you make a funny face and you put your worries aside, because there's no way you're going to back out after spending so much money.

Halloween falls on a Saturday, so there's no need for you to do any schoolwork and you spend the earlier half of the day lazing around, changing seats and rooms constantly, full of restless energy. When it comes time, you dig out the old sheet and throw it on over what you're wearing. You're feeling a little nervous but you put the shades and accompanying paper in your bucket and exit your house. Because the shades are somewhat fragile, you go straight to the Striders'. Their front light is off but that's nothing new. Right now, it isn't even dark enough for it to do any good, and you realize that you probably shouldn't have come this early. You will yourself to calm down long enough to ring the doorbell.

For the first time, instead of Dave, it's Dirk who answers the door. You ask if Dave's home, and you think your voice cracks when you do.

He laughs— at your voice, you're sure— and calls Dave's name, adding, "It's a ghost," as you're left standing alone and facing an empty living room, with a bucket containing precious cargo and sweaty palms and fuck, you hope you don't drop the bucket before he even shows up.

He appears from behind the door and he's wearing the same old shades that you remember. There's something about him that gives you the vibe that he's mad, but you can't tell what it is so you pass it off as your own nerves. You grin, trying to force your own confidence, but it does nothing substantial from behind the sheet. You're suddenly struck with the realization that not only do you know more random facts about him, but you know more about his appearance as well, and your nerves get the better of you as you falter on a single word and it comes out shaky.

"Hey."

He takes his place leaning against the doorframe, blocking your view of his living room.

"You're back."

"Haha yeah." You force a laugh and you're afraid it shows off just how nervous you are. "I went to my grandma's for Halloween last year. Don't tell me you actually had a costume." You laugh through your nose this time, and the sound is slightly steadier.

"A costume and candy," he says.

"No shit?" You remember he didn't censor his language before and you want to show him you're okay with that.

Without missing a beat, he says, "Marty McFly," and you have a completely newfound respect for him.

"Whoa, no way. You like Back to the Future?"

"All three of them."

"Which one's your favorite?"

Instead of answering, he sighs and his posture slackens. He uncrosses his arms— which you hadn't noticed were crossed in the first place, maybe that's why he seemed angry.

"Look, Egbert, we don't have any candy," and he says it with such finality that you suspect he wants you to leave, but hell no, you are not leaving yet.

"That's okay."

"I'm not giving you aj either."

"I don't want any of your aj."

"I really don't have anything to give you."

Oh hell yes, the conversation led exactly where you wanted it to go. You inhale, drawing in as much breath as you can. "Then why don't you try saying 'trick or treat' for once?" And Jesus, you are the cheesiest. It's you.

His expression doesn't change, but something about the way his posture loosens suggests confusion to you. You'll make it easier for him.

"Just say 'trick or treat'. Right now."

"Trick or treat...?" You thrust the bucket towards him before he can even finish speaking, and he leans away in reaction. You try not to mirror his recoil.

"Come on, coolkid, reach in! You only get what you can retrieve, so choose wisely!" The confidence is coming back to you, little by little, as his drains away, it seems. He hesitates, but puts his hand in the bucket anyway, and pulls out the certificate first. You groan.

"No. Are you serious?" you say as he examines the paper. "I warned you, bro. I warned you about the contents of this bucket." You laugh awkwardly— you're pretty sure you messed up the reference, but you watch his face as the comprehension hits him. "Try again."

"You read SBAHJ," he says it as letters instead of the full title, and leaves the sentence hanging as a sort of question. He actually puts the paper back in the bucket and he withdraws his hand with the shades in its place. He turns them over a few times, unfolds the arms, and then: "These are the real shades, aren't they. Fuck." He takes the paper back out and reads it over, holding the shades carefully in one hand. "Are you rich? Is your dad a corrupt politician or something? How the hell did you get these?" The paper is being folded again and he's looking up at you now.

"I just had some cash saved up," you say innocently, though your grin would give you way if he could see it. He really likes them, you're so relieved! Your confidence is fully restored, and his reaction has given you something of an ego boost.
"You should have spent the money on a better costume." He smirks, and this is the first time you've seen a truly positive emotion on him. It's nice.

"My ghost costume is totally cool, okay."

"Try 'lame as hell', and you'll be right on the money."

"If you mean the money I spent on your shades, then yeah." You laugh and he joins in, albeit a bit more quietly.

"Thanks," he says with a smile, and it's genuine.

You wave it off. "It's cool. You can make it up by coming with me."

"Damn, I knew there'd be a catch. Where do you want me to go? I'm pretty sure whatever's illegal for you is just as illegal for me. No drug deals, man."

He's funny. You were right about his sense of humor. "Well," you say, drawing it out. "If you're not interested in doing that, then how about you join me on my quest to visit every house on the block?"

He catches on but makes a big deal out of not having a costume.

"Can't you just reuse the Marty McFly one?"

"Can't. I've outgrown it." Holy shit, now that you think about it he is a lot taller. You've grown considerably in the last two years, too, but he's taller than you are now.

"See this?" you say, pinching at your sheet. "I am the master at making ghost costumes. I can make you one in five minutes flat."

He invites you in, then disappears up the stairs to look for his brother. When he reappears at the top, he has a plain white sheet and a pair of scissors and he waves you to the stairs. You follow him to his bedroom.

His room is pretty cool, but it's messy, like Dirk said. You have to step over things on the floor, and his sheets aren't even tucked in at the base of the bed— they just lie in a big pile in the center. You tease him about the mess and he throws the sheet in your face. You throw it back.

It's hotter in his room, probably due to the fact that heat rises, and you remove your own sheet and leave it on his desk, before peeling off the jacket you wore underneath for warmth outside, which obviously isn't needed now.

"Jeez. How hot is it in here?"

"Only 72."

"You're insane. We keep it in the 60s at my house."

"I hale from the depths of hell, remember?"

"Texas?" You snort.

"Same thing."

When he notices that you are not in ghost form anymore, you catch him glancing at your face a lot. "So you still wear the glasses," he says.

"Yeah, that didn't stop being a thing I need to do." You drape Dave's sheet over his head and adjust it so it covers well enough. "You were right, though. They looked dumb on top of the sheet. I can't believe I went like that for three years before anyone said anything. I thought parents were supposed to watch out for their children, but did my dad say anything?"

"Obviously not."

"Yeah, no. I was probably the dorkiest kid in town."

"For three years."

"Yeah." You reach for the scissors and start cutting the holes for his eyes.

"Dude, we need to get you a better costume. There is no way you're going as a ghost again if there's enough time to prepare something better. The only thing worse than a sheet with holes in it is your ugly face." You finish cutting the holes and give him a light shove.

"My face is awesome. Better than yours, at least."

"Wrong. You have huge teeth. They're titanic, bro. Also, your hair is messier than a twelve-year-old-white-kid's lyrics at a freestyle rap-off."

"I was wearing a sheet!"

"That doesn't explain the teeth."

"I'm getting braces soon, I think." You're grinning. It's hard not to.

"Man, that's not something to be happy about. That shit's going to hurt."

The costume is ready and now it's actually getting dark out. Before you leave the house, you convince Dave to ditch the shades altogether for the night. He slips his new aviators into a pocket under the sheet, and when he goes to remove the pointy ones (which stuck out way too much under the sheet, it was hilarious) you catch a glimpse of his face sans shades.

"Heh. You have red eyes," you point out, like he hasn't heard it probably hundreds of times. He responds with a 'yeah' and you return a 'cool' and then you're outside.

You race him to the first house, where you both realize he didn't grab a bag for himself. You ask for double the candy in your one bucket instead, and instead of returning to his house for another bag, you carry on like that for the rest of the night.

It's pretty great how well the two of you get along. Right away, you're joking and pushing each other around and stealing candy from the bucket while the other isn't looking. You take turns carrying it, passing it off after every block. When you get to your house, instead of ringing the bell, you just walk right in, and Dave freezes for a fraction of a second before he gets it and follows you inside. The bucket is full, so you dump it on the counter and head back out.

You continue like this for a few hours, until it's late enough that you're one of the last few groups still out, and that's when you return home to divvy up the spoils.

Dave gives you most of the fruity candy again and you don't complain. He keeps all the cherry and apple ones to himself, but to make up for it, gives you more than half your share of the nut-free chocolates.

Eventually, your dad comes into the kitchen and is surprised to see two ghosts instead of one. You introduce him to Dave, who just says, "'Sup." They shake hands, kind of. Daves hands are stil under the sheet, so it's a really funny handshake they share. Your dad tells you to lock the door after Dave leaves and then wishes you both goodnight before leaving the room.

While Dave's shoveling his half of the candy pile into a plastic bag, you ask him if he wants to spend the night. After calling his brother for permission, the two of you build a fort in the living room and eat candy and watch scary movies until you pass out in a pile of pillows and blankets on the floor.

Before Dave goes home the next day, you ask him for his chumhandle. Over the next year, you talk, if not in person, online almost daily. He introduces you to Rose, and you introduce him to Jade, and the four of you do pretty much everything together.

During that first year, you find out that Dave is very easily influenced, and you think it may have started as a way to maintain his coolkid image, which you don't really see, even though you admit that the shades you got him do indeed make him look very cool. By the next summer, you've convinced him that homeschooling is better than public school. He asks his brother if he can switch, and he does just before the next public school year starts, leaving Rose as the only one in the group who still leaves her house for school.

After the first night he spent at your house, it became pretty common for one of you to stay at the other's, even to the point that neither of you have to ask permission anymore. After he begins homeschooling, it becomes a nearly nightly thing, since there is no set time that you have to begin your work. Most of the time, he stays at your house; he doesn't like that you try to clean his room every time you stay at his place.

For your fourteenth birthday, he gets you the actual bunny from Con Air and you practically hug him to death. It's then that you decide that you and Dave are best bros, and no one else will come between you.

The next Halloween is the first one you spend with more than one person. It's also the first time you buy an actual costume— at Dave's insistence, of course.  It's not one you would have picked on your own, but Dave makes a compelling argument that even if you don't get the irony in it, its funny just because. In the end, you have to agree that your foursome does look pretty funny in Super Mario Bros. costumes. Dave and Jade are all for switching costumes, and it's actually Jade who manages to convince you to switch with Rose. You and Dave end up with the princess costumes. You rock-paper-scissors for the Peach costume, but he cheats and you're stuck with Daisy. Jade, being the tallest in your group (she hit her growth spurt way early) takes Luigi and Rose gets Mario, and the four of you look really stupid, but it's great.

Before you'd settled on your costumes, you'd joked with Dave about getting the dumbest couples' costumes you could find. One of your own ideas was the classic two-person horse costume. You tell him it'd be ironic, and he tells you that it's not ironic, just sad.

"Come on, Dave," you'd teased at his house one day. "You can be the back half, since you're an ass."

His brother actually high-fived you, and then offered to buy the costume.

That Halloween is pretty great. You Trick-or-Treat in all of your neighborhoods and get tons of compliments (and candy). Dave says you should both curtsy at every house, and the first time you do, he doesn't join you. You look like a dork, but you play it up and do it at very house anyway, and eventually he does join you. The way he smiles, even if it's at your expense, more than makes up for the embarrassment.

The summer after your fifteenth birthday, Jade and Rose start dating. It surprises you, but Dave says he saw it coming from the start. Dave gets a girlfriend, too. They look nice together, and it's not that they make a cute couple, but that they're both really attractive people, and that's when you realize Dave is damn good-looking for fifteen years old. He's taller than you still, but only by an inch or so, and he has really good posture (which you're jealous of— he slouches so much when sitting, but his spine curves perfectly when he stands, and you have no idea how he does it). His hair is that light natural blond that girls tend to admire, and his face is angled and filled out in just the right ways to make him attractive without giving him the gross definition of over-polished male models. It's kind of hard to tell with the shades on, but you've seen him without them enough to admire the details of his face without having to actually see it.

That same summer, Rose starts homeschooling, too, and she's the last of you to quit the public school system. Dave throws a party for her, but they end up shouting at each other over something you aren't familiar with, and after that you don't see Rose for a while, unless Jade drags her along. Your group is temporarily split into two, but you and Dave hang out alone more often to make up for it. By September, whatever it was they were fighting about is resolved and things go back to normal, more or less.

That Halloween, you wear the same costumes, but instead of going around your own neighborhoods, you search out the wealthiest parts of town, settling on the newest and biggest developments on the outskirts. At the end of the night, when the girls go home, you and Dave divide your candy. It's a tradition you refuse to share with anyone else.

He's already got pyjamas at your house, since sleepovers were such a common occurrence that they necessitated sleepwear and toothbrushes be kept at both homes. After sorting the candy, you build a fort in your living room— another Halloween tradition that you refuse to share. Dave introduces you to The Rocky Horror Picture Show and you can understand why he likes it, but it's a little weird for you. You enjoy it anyway, at least until you start to doze off sometime after Meat Loaf's character dies.

When you wake up too early the next morning, Dave is asleep face down, kind of sprawled out everywhere and hogging all the pillows. Your legs are propped up on his ass and a corner of your fort has collapsed and fallen right on your face. You push it aside and slide your legs off of Dave, rolling closer so you can steal one of the hoarded pillows. He groans when you take one from right under his face, which has indentations left by his shades. You don't know how he can fall asleep with them on, but he does.

You fall asleep next to him and it's several hours before you wake up again.

When you're sixteen, Jade and Rose cancel on your plans the day before Halloween. You can't blame them, you just wish they would have told you sooner. Jade's grandpa invited her to his island and sent her two plane tickets, with departure scheduled for the morning of the 31st, and you guess she's known about the trip for a while. She tells you and John over Pesterchum that she's known for the better part of the month and that she's sorry she didn't tell you sooner.

She gives her second ticket to Rose and explains that she didn't think it would be fair to take you or John in place of her girlfriend. When Rose is invited to the conversation, she informs you that she herself was unaware of the trip until Jade proposed a hypothetical romantic getaway the weekend before and Rose accepted, hypothetically. Jade adds in a line of 'hehehe' and that's the end of the conversation, as far as Halloween plans were concerned.

Rose corners you alone after Jade and John log off. It's not much of a corner, since you can block her at any time, but you'd rather not resort to that if you don't have to.

  -- tentacleTherapist[TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] --
TT: Strider.
TG: well hey
TG: wasnt i just talking to you
TT: Probably.
TT: But it's time to bring the chat here now.
TT: Dave, it's time we have the talk.
TG: wtf rose
TG: im not ready for this
TT: I need to talk to you about John.
TG: i swear my intentions toward john are pure
TG: anyway shouldnt i be the one giving you the talk
TG: last i checked i wasnt the one leaving the country with my girlfriend for a week
TT: Do you want to give me the talk?
TG: no not really
TG: so
TG: whats so important about john that you have to tell me
TT: I'm sorry this is so sudden.
TG: you and Jade already said that about 20 times we forgive you
TT: That's not what I meant.
TT: This may come as a shock, but I am fairly certain John has taken a special interest in you.
TT: 'Fairly certain' being an understatement, of course. If I was anything less than 90% sure I wouldn't be telling you this now.
TG: thats funny because i kind of already knew that
TG: kid loves me
TG: more than you ever will mom
TT: So you're aware you are his romantic interest?
TG: well probably elope just to spite you and dad
TG: who is jade
TG: i guess
TG: wait what
TG: john egbert has no romantic interests at all in anyone ever
TG: hes way too into the whole friendship thing theres no way
TT: If you haven't noticed, he treats you differently than he treats Jade and I.
TG: well duh youre girls
TT: Rude.
TG: i dont mean that in a negative way and you know it
TG: we just share a different kind of bond as bros
TG: also i buy him things
TG: do you buy him things
TG: didnt think so
TT: You're deeper in denial than I thought you'd be.
TG: unless he told you himself that he wants this ass i have no reason to believe you
TT: That's okay. I just wanted to let you know. Maybe you can make use of the information while you're alone together tomorrow.
TT: Wink wink.
TG: im starting to think youve been planning this
TT: I can assure you that that line of thought is wrong, and I suggest that you stop thinking it now. We both know what happens when you dwell on things.
TT: Dave.
TT: I need to be up early to catch a plane, so if there's nothing more to say on the matter...
TG: if your intentions are to get us to confess our attraction to each others butts and then make out in front of a volcano  TG: then jokes on you cause there are no volcanoes in town
TG: also
TG: my feelings towards johns butt can more or less be described at apathetic
TT: What a shame. Would you like me to bring you a miniature souvenir volcano back from the trip?
TG: cheap imitations will not do rose

  -- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] --

She's just fooling around, you're sure of it. This isn't the first time a member of your group has tried to set others up, but it is the first time it's happened since Jade and Rose became a thing. When you think about it though, you don't really want to wear your costume without Jade's and Rose's there to compliment it. While going alone with John would probably increase the irony of the situation, something about the idea makes you uncomfortable. You don't have a very good explanation as for why you feel this way, and you're unable to think of one by the next morning, and when John pesters you about your plans for the evening, you also can't come up with an explanation for why you tell him your costume is ruined, when it's perfectly fine and hanging in the back of your closet.

EB: yeah right! good one.
EB: meet me over here in an hour, ok?
TG: im serious egbert theres a huge tear in the back
TG: do you want the whole city to see to see my ass
EB: :(
EB: well, we can't have that. but if it's just a tear we can fix it, right?
TG: do you know how to sew
EB: no, but it can't be that hard to figure out. we could probably make it in time.
TG: what about a needle and thread
EB: there are stores that sell that stuff, you know.
TG: can i just watch a movie instead
EB: nooo dude come on. i will fix it. you can't just ditch! i don't want to go alone!
TG: you could watch the movie too dude
EB: ...
TG: im just not feeling it ok
EB: could we watch the movie at my house?
TG: yeah sure
EB: okay, then how about we wear the ghost costumes? they're still around here somewhere, i think.
TG: if you can find them ill consider it
EB: yeah!

You meet John at his house at noon. He hasn't found the old sheets yet, but he's still looking. While he busies himself checking everywhere at least twice, you open your Netflix account on his laptop and stretch the cord over to the bed so you can lie down as you watch. You have his password memorized, and while it takes a few tries (seriously, mcconaughey is hard to spell), you've got Netflix up and ready by the time John comes back to check the room (again). You make at all the way through one movie while he searches and have just started a second when he joins you, and you sit up to lean against the wall with him while he holds the laptop.

"That was really stupid," he says when the second movie ends and you're browsing your queue for another.

"You missed the first half. It probably would have made more sense I'd you'd actually been here to see it."

"But it was dumb!" He rolls to the foot of the bed and throws his head back onto a pillow. "It wasn't even scary! Too much gore and making out, not enough jumpscares. I don't know why it's even listed in the horror section."

"You just described pretty much every horror movie in the last ten years, John."

"Can we watch something better next? Like, a Tim Burton movie or something?"

"What happened to finding the sheets?"

"I gave up. Dad's going to check Goodwill for a few, though. Hopefully he'll be back soon."

"You expect me to wear a used sheet?"

He kicks lazily at your knees. "They clean them first, you know."

"And you call me gross."

"No, you're messy. At least they fold their sheets."

"I'd fold 'em if I didn't have to use 'em everyday. By the way, there are no Tim Burton movies on Netflix right now."

"What, seriously?"

"But there are full length versions of Nightmare Before Christmas and Corpse Bride on YouTube. Pick one."

He picks Corpse Bride and scoots back up to take the laptop from you. A few minutes in and you've amassed a pile of pillows in the center of the bed and changed positions. When his dad knocks on the door halfway through the movie, you're lying on your stomach and John's watching the movie upside down, legs against the wall and back against the bed. He calls his dad in and you pause the movie. The sheets are left in a stack on John's desk, and you're both reclined against the pillows when you press play again.

You're aware of the sun descending across the sky; it will be dark within the hour. If you don't stop watching the movie soon there won't be a good place to pause it before the end. You're about to ask if he wants to start working on the costumes when you find that he's been leaning on your shoulder for probably a good fifteen minutes. You unconsciously lean away, not enough to disconnect your shoulders, but enough to lessen the pressure. He starts and looks at you questioningly.

"We should stop soon, before it gets too close to the end."

"Yeah, okay."

You wait for a suitable place to pause and he leans against your shoulder again.

"Hey, you know what's weird?"

You pause the movie and hand the laptop off to him. "Yeah, you."

"Ha-ha, no. Jade thinks you want to kiss me."

"Fuck, she's in on it," you groan.

"In on what?" He slides from the bed and leaves the laptop in his place.

"Rose told me last night that you want to touch my butt."

"Ugh bluh. You butt is okay but I don't want to touch it, sorry."

"My butt is great. If it wasn't attached to me, it would make the plushest pillow. Kings would start wars for it and the winner would have it sewn into the most valuable throne in the kingdom."

"If it's that great, why hasn't your bro implanted it in one of his puppets?" He hands you one of the sheets and you pull it over your head.

"Hell no. Property of Dave Strider only. Look, but don't touch, kids."

"I don't think any kids would want to touch that."

"Your jealousy is so obvious I can see it through this sheet, John. Admit it, you want to touch the butt."

He laughs and cuts the holes for your eyes a little off center, but you adjust the sheet to make it work.

"But yeah," John continues, tugging the second sheet over his own head and handing you the scissors. "I was like 'no Dave doesn't want to kiss me!' I mean, you act pretty damn stoic most of the time, but I still think I'd notice if you actually liked me. Or liked any guys, really!"

"How would you know, dude?"

"You had a girlfriend for like seven months. I thought you were going to date Jade for a while, but then she started dating Rose. And ugh, I don't know. You just don't seem like anything but straight?"

You shrug. "What about you? Have you even had a girlfriend?"

He laughs uncomfortably. "Yeah, for like, a week when I was 14."

"I don't remember that."

"I didn't tell anyone. It was stupid."

You're surprised he never told you. The worst part is you can't even think of who it could have been. Outside of your group, he's only had a few other friends. You don't know the names of half of them, and it's not because you don't care, but because he doesn't hang out with them often enough for you them to matter to you.

He clears his throat and you start cutting the holes in his sheet. "Anyway, you haven't shown any interest in me, so I was pretty sure Jade was kidding around."

"Interest?"

"Yeah, like, flirting? Or, I don't know, touching? Excessively?"

You finish the first hole.

"Rose said I want to touch your butt, right? You should want to touch mine, too! If you liked me, I mean. That should be the same for you. That's actually phase two in the whole infatuation thing. You'd be like, 'Damn John you've got a nice butt and I'm actually being sincere here' and I'd be like, 'haha whatever Dave.'"

You're finished cutting the holes when he adds, "It's innocent butt touching, though."

"There is no innocent butt touching."

"The first phase," he continues loudly—  to cut you off, you suspect—, "is hand holding, of course. That comes before the butt stuff."

"Of course."

"You'd be like, 'let's hold hands, John' and I'd say 'Dave you are a dork.'"

"We have held hands, though."

He turns away to take his sheet off and tosses it to catch on the corner of his desk. "You're the one who said it was for the irony."

"It was. We were in costume."

He shrugs. "Then it doesn't count."

You take your costume off, too, because it isn't fun being the only ghost in the room. He falls back onto his bed and you take a seat on his wheeled desk chair, chest to its back. "Is there a phase three?"

"Phase three," he lifts one hand to aid the explanation from his supine position, "is the lip-on-lip contact."

"Cool. So I'd say, 'kiss me John, inject me with your dorkiness and fill me with regret for mackin' on my best friend."

"Katy Perry?"

"Shh." He pulls his legs up on the bed with him and crosses them, pretzel style.

"Jade and Rose kiss all the time."

"I don't know if you know this, but Jade and Rose have been dating for a year. Sorry to crush your dreams of getting it on with either of them, but it's about time someone told you." John swats at you and you roll the chair away.

It's quiet for a while, the chair back squeaking a little as you twist gently side-to-side. "You know, I don't know if I'd be opposed to phase three," he says, finally.

After a few seconds of silence, you breathe out. "Oh, yeah?"

He turns his head to look in your direction. "Do you want to?"

You're hit with a sudden chilly feeling, like a block of ice forming in your gut, but its not unpleasant. It forces you to take a deep breath, though, and it feels like a prolonged gasp. It serves the same purpose, and you're glad the back of his chair is there to cover the sudden rise of your chest. That was more blunt than you'd expected him to be, but you appreciate the honesty. You turn the chair again, spinning slowly in a circle.

"Do you want to?" he repeats. "I mean, just once, since we'd be jumping straight into phase three. Like, you get one free pass to the front of the line, except there is no line."

"Holy shit, you're serious." You plant your feet on the ground, stopping the chair's rotation.

"Wow. I can't believe I said that. Sorry." His hands move to cover his face. He's kind of adorable.

You kick off the desk and roll your chair over to his side. He inclines his face to look at you and you grab for his wrist, pulling him into a sitting position. "No. No, we can do that."

"For the irony?" You don't answer. "Strider," he teases with a grin, and you drop his wrist. "Are you attracted to me?"

You shrug one shoulder. His grin fades, and he drops his head to the back of the chair you're on with a sigh. You hesitate, but rest a hand in his hair. It sticks out everywhere and it's soft and you think he's probably never used hair gel in his life.

"Your hair is dumb. So is your face." He turns his head away from you. "In a good way," you add quickly. Its kind of unsettling how softly you're speaking. He rolls his eyes as he sits back up.

"Your face is dumb, too. That's why I got you the shades." He snickers.

"You want to kiss this dumb face and you know it."

He sighs shakily. "Yeah."

The back of the chair hits the bed, and suddenly your forehead is resting against his. He looks mildly shocked, so you guess it was you who pressed into him. He draws in a breath, and the way his lips part just enough to reveal his teeth and the way the corners of his mouth twitch just barely has your heart rate increasing. Before he can react more, you tilt your face so that instead of your foreheads, your lips connect. His are still parted slightly— you can feel that they are, now— and he inhales sharply, but it's not quite a gasp. You both shudder when your glasses clink.

You realize that John has frozen, so you pull back enough to say, "You have to do it, too, John." You think maybe that was the wrong thing to say because a moment later he's pulling way from you and his face hits your shoulder and his arms are wrapping around your neck. You hug him back without hesitation.

"Are you okay." You're quiet.

"Yeah," he breathes out, finally. "Sorry."

"Dude, it's not your fault," you say, in a hurry to comfort him. "Your lips just couldn't keep up with mine."

"Don't diss the lips," he laughs, and you can feel how his shoulders shake.

"I'm just saying I wouldn't mind if you actually used them."

He takes a few breaths in silence and you like the way it feels when he exhales against your neck .

"You are infringing the one free kiss rule," he says.

"Are you open to bribery?" He laughs and you offer, "One piece of candy, from my pile, after sorting, per smooch?"

"Deal," he chuckles, and the second time  you kiss, it's a lot softer and he meets you as you lean in, moving his lips against yours immediately. It's nice, and when you part next, you take his glasses and set them somewhere to the side. He does the same with yours.

The kisses stay soft— you're afraid to push it beyond innocent territory, and although John is responding now, he's still hesitant. He sighs a lot, you find out, and smiles— you can feel it, and it makes you smile, too— and you settle your hands at the base of his neck and draw him closer. After a while, he pulls back just enough to not be muffled when he asks how many that was. You tell him he was supposed to be the one keeping count of the kisses.

"Seven, maybe," he tries.

"You're not getting any of my candy if you don't know for sure."

"Bluh, we probably won't be getting any candy tonight anyway."

It really has gotten later than you realized, but there's still plenty of time to go if either of you wanted to.

"What are you saying, Egbert?"

"You don't want to Trick-or-Treat anymore, do you?"

"Hell yeah, I do." And you force John back into his costume, and after a lot of protest from him that you could be doing something else instead, you lead him outside, and take his hand unironically. With a smirk, you say, "Phase one?" and he laughs.

That night, after trading candy and giving John at least seven more from your half, you find yourself in his bed, curled up on your side and facing him.

"We don't tell Rose or Jade for a while, okay? Can't let them think this is their doing."

He grins, and you feel his hand ghost over your hip and then it's planted firmly against your ass.

"What are you doing?"

"Phase two," he answers with a grin, and you shove your hand in his face. You can't let him be the only one on to pass phase two, though, so you join in on the butt touching.

You don't tell Jade or Rose about any of the events that transpired that night. It isn't until a few weeks after the fact that you and John decide to make the change in your relationship official. Until then, you spend quite a bit of your time lip-locked and reveling in the feeling of being together in ways your friendship hadn't allowed for previously. You had no intentions of returning to the way it was before. With how enthusiastic John has gotten during your make-out sessions, you don't think he feels any different.

Your relationship doesn't change much aside from the added physical aspect. He still pushes you around and you both tease each other relentlessly, the only difference being that sometimes, when you're alone, the teasing ends with tackles and kisses.

It's Thanksgiving weekend when you agree to tell your respective guardians. Bro doesn't make a big deal out of it, just gives you a fist bump and tells you 'congrats'. John's dad makes a bigger deal out of it by offering to make you a celebratory dinner, and then invites you and Dirk over for Thanksgiving instead. One night in December, John tells you over Pesterchum that he and his dad had an awkward conversation, and from the way he dances around the subject afterwards, you can guess what the topic was.

You're a little disappointed that you didn't realize how much you liked John's dorkiness before. It wasn't that it was cute or funny, although sometimes he could use it to his advantage, and that made it a fitting quality for him. His personality and presence have had an effect on you since you've known him, and you know that if you were suddenly deprived, you'd survive, but it would be a less than satisfactory existence.

As far as romance is concerned, you love him, but that's nothing new. He hugs you a lot more, but you think that he would have been doing that earlier if you'd given him any sign that you liked it. He's also started to make the cheesiest grand romantic gestures, like waking you up in the middle of the night with a boombox outside your window. He's serenaded you— with piano accompaniment— and his singing voice is awful. You think all of this is just his repressed inner movie geek celebrating now that it finally gets to see some action. You tell Rose just as much— still without letting her on to the fact that you're now dating— and she agrees.

You tell Jade about your relationship on her birthday, and her face lights up more than it had when she opened her presents. John tells Rose, then tells you that she actually seemed surprised that you two had gotten together, and that you were more influenceable than she had thought. Winter and spring go by not far from normal, and before you know it, you're the equivalent of a high school senior.

That year, you all agree that it would be nice to do something different for Halloween. It falls on a Thursday, and all the parties you know of don't happen until the weekend, which leaves you with not much of a plan. The morning of, John sends you out to buy the biggest bag of candy still left at the store, and when you get to his house, the girls are there and waiting for you to start a movie.

Jade is the first to pass out, sometime during the movie John picked. You're next when John leans his head on your shoulder, and you doze off listening to sounds of the eerie creatures in Rose's movie pick. You passed out early, too early to actually sleep for the night, and when you wake up, the room is dark save for the tv and a quick glance around tells you that the girls have left. You're lying on your side on one end of John's couch, and he's reclining against the arm at the other end. His feet rest near your chest; you shove them off the couch. You don't move again until the doorbell rings and John gets up to answer it.

Unlike you and your brother, the Egberts had their light on every year, and John's been passing out candy all night. When the kids at the door are gone, you ask him what time it is.

"Uh, about 8:30," you say, squinting your eyes in the darkness to read your watch.

Dave sits up and cracks his back. Gross. "When did the girls leave?"

"No more than an hour ago. Jade woke up for a while, but she started to doze off again so Rose took her home."

"...This year's pretty lame, isn't it," he says and you hum in agreement.

"I've still got the ghost sheets, if you want to do something else?" You're hopeful. You'd been the only one who still wanted to Trick-or-Treat this year, but you gave it up to spend the day wih your friends.

"That's what you said last year."

"Yeah, but I actually know where they are right now. Do you want— I can go them them and prove it, if you want."

You shuffle to the stairway and he scoffs. You look over your shoulder, waiting for his approval.

"Go get 'em, you dork," he sighs and you're bounding up the steps.

You retrieve the sheets from the top shelf of your closet, and when you return to the living room he's standing with his shades in his hands. He makes a grabbing motion in the air. You toss him one of the sheets.

"We're only doing a few houses, Egbert," he says, but he let's you drag him to every house on the block.

You don't spend much time Trick-or-Treating— it's already pretty late by the time you leave, and you still had half a bag of candy at home, so it wasn't like you needed more.

You and Dave only have one year left before college, and who knows what you'll be doing for Halloween then? This is the last one you'll get to spend together for sure, and you want to make use of it as best you can. You know he wants to leave town for college, but you don't have any plans for your own future yet. You've talked to him before about synchronizing your futures, and he's pretty adamant that no matter what happens, you go where he goes. You just hope he doesn't pick a college that's impossible for you to get into or afford.

Even if you do stay together for another year, this will almost certainly be the last year you use the ghost costumes. As you roam around the neighborhood, Dave tells you the same, and adds that you need to find a new tradition.

"Yeah, like what," you ask.

"Most people throw parties"

"I threw a party today!"

"Half of your guests fell asleep. And movie night doesn't really constitute a party."

You argue playfully until all the house lights are off and you're still outside. When your watch read 10:00, Dave demanded you go home. You pouted and asked why, and he told you he had more fun things in mind. You waggled your eyebrows the best you could and he smirked back. Ten minutes later, you find yourself lying on your back in your backyard, your shoes off and lying somewhere in the grass. Your sheet is off and laid out under you. Dave's is hanging off his shoulders as he sits, reclining on his elbows. It's not too cold out —in the mid 50s you think— but Dave never did get used to the cooler weather.

You pull the sheet from his shoulders and throw it around your own.

"Fuck, John, I need that."

"I'm open to bribery." You grin mischievously, holding the ends of the sheet out on either side, the middle pooling loosely behind your back. Dave grabs for both ends at once and you fall over him.

"It's too cold for this," he says once you're lying on top of him.

"You're the one who wanted to come out here." You tuck the ends of the sheet under him and pap at his face. His arms encircle your waist.

"I didn't think you'd steal my sheet."

"Isn't this better, though?" You roll off of him until you're side-by-side under the sheet, his arms still around you.

"It's good enough," he says and you rub your bare feet against his shins. He kicks back in retaliation until your legs end up in a tangle and then he kisses you.

You go inside not long after, and instead of building a fort, you go straight to your room, just like the year before. You bring the sheets with you, and the next morning, you find that the grass that came in with them has also stained you, Dave, and your bed green.

You hope this is the start of a new and better Halloween tradition.