Tyson grabbed my hipbones with his hands, his fingers digging softly into the skin. One kiss landed on my neck, the next on my collarbone, the next on the curve of my breast. His hot breathe left a diagonal trail down my body, until--
"Elizabeth. Get back to work."
The words acted as an explosion, blowing my daydream to bits. When my eyes refocused, I realized I'd been staring at Tyson's red tinted hair. Normally, it was a deep chestnut color, as bland as the writing on the chalkboard. But today? Today was October 31st, so he had dyed the tips green, slipped into a leather jacket with a hoodie underneath, and adopted a sexy British accent. He even had a guitar propped up against his desk, so how could I look away? I was a sucker for band members, and an even bigger fan of Brits. His fake persona was my dream man.
"Sorry," I mumbled back to the teacher, pulling my eyes down toward my desk so Tyson wouldn't see that he was the reason why I hadn't been getting a damn thing done.
I didn't see him again until lunch, and when I did, I went right back to staring. When he sat down at his table, which was conveniently located right in front of mine, he lifted his hoodie over his head. It snagged on the fabric of his shirt, sending them both up to his nipples. The flash of skin caused me to lick my lips a little too seductively, which caused my best friend to give me "that" look.
"Oh, go talk to him already," she said, flipping her hair (or more accurately, the fake hair from her Elsa wig) over her shoulder. "You'll feel better after you flirt with him."
"Weren't you the one who said conceal, don't feel?" I asked.
"Ha ha. Very funny Anna." She picked up the braid of my red wig and twisted it between her fingertips. "So what movie are we going to watch tonight? Or do you just want to look through all of Tyson's Vines?"
"Shut up. I don't even like him."
"Well, you certainly like this version of him."
“Shush. Or you aren't coming home with me this year.”
Of course, she did come home with me. At the end of the day, when we walked through the door and I tried to kick off my shoes, my mother said, "Uh uh uh. Keep that costume on. You're the one answering the doors tonight." She paused when she noticed my best friend in toe. "Why, don't you look gorgeous, princess."
"Thank you," she said, curtsying with her icy blue dress.
An hour later, my parents were gone and "Elsa" and I were having a Paranormal Activity marathon on the living room's flatscreen. Of course, I missed half of the jump scares, because the doorbell was ringing every five seconds.
Each time it happened, I'd get up from the couch, run to the door, and toss bags of potato chips and pretzels into plastic pumpkins and pillow cases.
We were in the middle of the third film when it happened. When I opened the door and saw Tyson's face.
He still had on his outfit from school with his guitar slung over his shoulder. Except now, he had his hand on a little girl's back, urging her to talk.
"Come on," he said in his fake British accent. "You can do it. Just like you did at the last house."
She murmured a quiet, "Trick or treat," which caused him to look up at me with a proud smile.
I stared at him for a beat, trying to push away the blush I could tell was creeping onto my cheeks. But before I could speak, there was a look of recognition on his face. Then he said, "Oh hey, Elizabeth."
He knew my name. He. Knew. My. Name. I tried not to grin like a little girl on the playground. "Hey, Tyson," I said as casually as I could.
"I like your costume."
"Yeah, you make a gorgeous Anna." He scratched at his head, looking from my eyes to my shoes. "I mean, you make a gorgeous Elizabeth, too. Either way, you're... You know."
I blinked. Then I blinked again. No words came to mind, so I just grabbed a handful of food packets and stuffed them in the little girl's bag.
He must've taken my silence as a form of rejection, because he ushered the little girl down my steps without a smile goodbye.
Worried I'd lose the chance I never thought I'd have, I forced myself to call out to him. "Wait, Tyson." He paused, so I took a deep breath and continued. "I know Anna is supposed to end up with Kristoff, but tomorrow I'll be Elizabeth again, so..."
When he turned around, he was biting down on his lip. "So I guess I'll ask you out tomorrow, then."
I puckered my own lips to keep from smiling as he walked away.
When I returned to the couch, bouncing and blushing, "Elsa" wrapped her arms around me. Then she said, "Yes, I heard the whole thing. Yes, I'm happy for you. But wipe that grin off of your face. It's Halloween, not Valentine's Day."
"I don't know about that," I said, pretending to focus my attention on the movie. Of course, we both knew Tyson would be the only thing on my mind until November.
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