“I don’t think I can do this.” I said. My stomach beginning to tie in knots at the mere thought of it.

“Carter, You’ve put it off for long enough. Just ask her already.”

The bus hit a bump, adding to my already queasy morning. I looked out the window to distract myself. We just passed the movie theater. The big billboard next to it read: Movie premier of Vacancy, tonight at 8.

I shifted my gaze back to Tommy. “Isn’t it weird how they're premiering Vacancy in theaters and streaming services day one?”

Tommy furrowed his brow. “I think it’s even on cable, whoever watches that anymore. I guess they want it to be as accessible as possible.”

I went back to staring out the window as the bus pulled up to our school. The doors squeaked open as kids started to stand, preparing to disembark. My legs felt like Jello. I counted the ten steps to the front of the bus. Two stairs down to the pavement. Fifty-four steps to the main entrance, I keep track as we walk. “What if she says no?”

“Then she says no, and we’ll go to together as planned.”

“You’re only cool about this because it’s not you who’s going to get rejected. I remember how it was when you were crushing on Lisa.”

Tommy cracked a smile. “Damn right. You’ll do fine thought; I’ve … heard things.

“What things, have you been holding out on me?”

thirteen steps to the front entrance.

Tommy lowered his voice. Word around school is someone’s been crushing on you.

“And you're just mentioning this now?”

“I didn’t want to say anything, you know how rumors are.

Past the front doors. eighteen steps to the locker. I check my watch. Bell rings in five minutes.

“Somehow the fact that she might like me makes it worse.”

Tommy put his arm around my shoulder. “I’d date you if we weren’t my best friends, and if I were into guys, so it looks like you’ll have to make do with her.

I pushed him off me. “that’s a great thought.”

“Tommy grinned. “You’re telling me if we were gay you wouldn’t want all this?” He gestured at himself arrogantly.

I rolled my eyes at him, turning to unlock my locker. Sitting on the front shelf is a small, pink paper heart somebody shoved through the grate. Maybe it’s a sign. I shut the door, noticing the girl a few lockers down staring at me. She gave me a flustered smile before turning away; she does that a lot.

“See you at lunch,” I say to Tommy.

“GL.”

fifty-six steps to the classroom.

The day just kind of passed around me in a blur. Waiting for the moment was the hardest part of all. It’s like I had one foot out of reality. I wasn’t fully present until—the bell rang. Suddenly I was acutely aware of everything. My vision became sharp and in-focus. Every sound seemed louder than normal.

My legs felt like lead. The groups of kids heading to the cafeteria felt like a funeral procession waiting on my imminent demise. As luck would have it, I spotted her with a tray of food, heading to sit down. I’ve gotta intercept her before she reaches the table, or I’ll have to ask her in front of her friends.

I dodge kids, like Neo as I make my way toward her. “Sara.”

She turns to look at me—nearly freezing me in my tracks. “Yes?”

Before I could stop myself I said the lamest thing ever, “pizza again? It tastes like they got it from an MRE.

She looked puzzled “What’s an MRE?”

“Nevermind,” I muttered. Best to get it over with—“I was wondering if you’d like to that new movie with me tonight.”

“Oh–yeah, I’m going with a few friends, you’re welcome to tag along.”

“I was thinking—“

“Sara, come check this out. This TikTok is hilarious.” A girl a few tables away shouted.

“We’re meeting at nine-thirty, see you there.”

Just like that she was gone. I was left frozen in place, not able to comprehend exactly what had just happened. I felt an arm around my shoulder steering me toward a table—it was Tommy.

He sat me down. “Judging by the look on your face, it didn’t go so great.”

“She said I could come, but she’s going with friends.”

“Well, looks like we get to go together after all.”

The rest of the day passed in a defeated haze. I didn’t really come to my senses until we arrived at the movie theater. Tommy and I met Sara and her friends at the entrance.

We all went in together. This was not how I pictured the night going at all. Sara talked to her friends the whole time. At least I know she’s not interested in me. I tried to enjoy the movie without thinking about it.

When the credits started to roll, Tommy and I got up to beat the rush out of the theatre, but only a few other kids besides Sara and her friends got up. Most of the people stayed in their seats—odd.

The Theater lobby was completely empty as we made our way outside. The parking lot was full of cars, but nobody seemed to be leaving. We said our goodbye’s to Sara and her friends. Tommy and I hopped on our bikes.

“It was kind of weird, wasn’t? I didn’t really understand the story,” I remarked.

“I don’t think It lived up to the hype. It must have had a lot of money behind it to get as much attention as it did.”

The night was cool and quiet. I only saw one car driving as we made our way back. Tommy and I parted ways at the usual spot.

It was only nine-thirty, but there was nobody to be seen outside—nobody else was driving.

I rode my bike up to the garage, stowing it inside. Thirty-nine steps to the back door. Thirty-four. The rear house light isn’t on—Mom always leaves it on when I’m out after dark. Twenty-six. The curtains are still open, and the lights are all off. Fourteen. Dad left his tool bag outside—he never does that after dark. Five. One. I opened the door, crossing the threshold.

The cold hit me first, a sudden gust of icy air slipping beneath my t-shirt and into my hair like the hand of a distant relative, and leaving me stood alone in darkness.

"Mom?" I called out, walking further into the house, past Dad's armchair, past the coffee table with a half finished plate of food on it, long gone cold. "Dad?"

Nothing called back but the distant murmur of the radio behind the kitchen door, which creaked open louder than I remembered it did. I entered and quickly realised I was wrong. It wasn't the radio, it was Dad's phone, propped up on the kitchen counter, newsfeed going and leaching yellow light into the room. On the small screen, a woman stood in a magenta suit, microphone held straight as she stared into the camera, gaze unbroke, face stuck into a permanent grin. She did not speak. The only sounds came from around her, the hum of the camera, the rustle of trees, the crowd gathering in the background, while thee ticker-tape played the headline in bright yellow: CROWD CRUSH AS THOUSANDS FLOCK TO HORROR MOVIE LOCATION. TWO DEAD, TEN INJURED.

I paused, taking in the sight behind the anchor, the blinking neon sign reading CHERRY MOTEL in bright, looping letters. My heart dropped as I tried to push down the final scene of Vacancy, an establishing shot of the cheap looking motel set, as the main character was condemned to reliving the massacre there until he died. It was just a stupid horror movie, with cheap SFX that looked like they were from Spirit Halloween, I told myself as I counted the nine steps to the stairs.

"Mom? You up there?"

Their bedroom door stood half open, a slice of darkness inside. I pushed it wider. Dad's reading glasses sat folded on the nightstand next to a mug of tea, and when I touched it, the porcelain was ice cold, like it had been sitting there for hours, waiting for a mouth that never came back for it.

I went back outside, back to the driveway, and I found myself sprinting to the Hendersons' next door, hammering on the door with the flat of my fist. "Hello? Mr. Henderson? Anybody?"

Their porch light buzzed overhead, drawing in moths, and past the window sheers I could see the shape of their living room, couch, TV, the blue-black glow of a screen still playing something into an empty room. Nobody came to the door.

I went back for my bike and cycled like Hell to Tommy's house.

The quiet neighborhood seemed far more ominous now. I peddled my bike as fast as I could, unsure whether my heart was pounding from the exertion or the situation currently unfolding. Tommy’s house never seemed so far away.

When I arrived, Tommy’s house appeared to be the same as mine, lights off, both Cars in the driveway. What was going on? I noticed his bike wasn’t chained up where it normally was. Did he get here and then leave, the same as me? What if he’s at my house right now? I should get back. Maybe he’s there—no. I’ve gotta think. We could spend all night riding around the neighborhood trying to find each other. I need a plan—I lovingly cursed my parents for not buying me a phone yet.

Our old hideout we made when we were kids. We always said to meet there if the apocalypse started. It was all fun and games back then, but this new reality is quite chilling.

I scanned the yard, looking for anything that could possibly aid me. My gaze coming to rest on a piece of chalk his younger sister must have left outside. I grabbed it, scrawling: code red, execute contingency plan, on the walkway in front of the door.

Satisfied with my handiwork, I raced off on my bike toward the woods at the edge of town.

I only made it a few blocks when I slammed on my brakes hard, causing the bike to skid, before coming to stop in the middle of the street. The sight in front of me held all the splendor and horror of my nightmares.

The electronic billboard above the laundromat shone with a vibrancy I’d never seen before. The establishing shot of the cheap looking Cherry Motel set, with its bright, blinking neon sign, stared back at me on the screen—but something was off. The image was so clear, it was as if I was looking at the movie set through the screen, not on it.

I’m not sure how long I sat on my bike in the street staring at it. It was as if it was calling to me. I had to steel my eyes away from it, reminding myself of the urgency of the situation—something was definitely wrong.

When I reached the woods, the crickets chirped lazily—not nearly as loud as I remember. I pulled my bike off the street, laying it down on the grass that spanned about twenty feet between the curb and the trees. Continuing on foot I began counting the steps. One. Twenty. The trees swallowed the last remaining sound of the city as I got further along. Forty-six—clink. I tripped the noise trap we’d made all those years ago out of old cans and strings—I was getting close.

The trees also consumed the dim light from the street lamps. Now I was just feeling my way through with my hands out-stretched. Fifty-eight. Sixty-three. Eighty-one. My fingers closed around a piece of wood—like a rung. The rope ladder! I started climbing, trusting that the wood was still in good condition. When I reached the top of the treehouse, my hand reflexively reached to the left, retrieving one of the old wind-up flashlights we’d stored here.

I wound it up. The dim glow revealed a wave of nostalgia that had been slowly slipping away. The snow globe on the shelf along the back wall still sat there, motionless. It looked like somebody had been here more recently, a few items I didn’t recognize were scattered about too. It’s cool to think other kids got to inherit this place after Tommy and I grew up.

The flashlight glow illuminated the engraved wooden plaque hanging on the wall. The Pinnacle. That’s what we named this place. My eyes felt moist as I reached out to touch it. Just as my fingertips brushed the engraved wood, a blood curdling scream let loose from the direction I’d come from.

I raced down the ladder. One. Sixteen. Twenty-four. The sounds of someone panicking became audible.

“Hello!?” I shouted as I got closer.

Branches whipped my face, I didn’t care. rushing forward, Someone hard connects with my head.

The shadows of the trees stare down at me as I lay on the ground.

Someone’s moving nearby. I groan as I try to sit up.

“You’re awake!” said a girls voice.

“If I’m awake, then who are you, er … I mean, who are you?”

“I’m Liz.” The girl said meekly.

“I suppose it was you who was screaming?”

In the dark, I can only faintly see her silhouette, but I swear I could feel her blushing.

“Yeah ….” The embarrassment in her voice was on full display. “My leg got caught in some vines, then I thought I heard an animal.”

I rub my head. “Great.”

“Do you know where you’re going? I got lost.”

I start to stand up. “Follow me.”

Liz insisted I hold her hand, so we don’t get separated. I didn’t protest. her hand felt warm and reassuring in my own. It was nice to not be alone.

Once we’d located the ladder again, she climbed up first. When I reached the top I remembered the wind-up flashlight was still in my pocket from earlier. I pulled it out, turning it on. The dim light illuminated Liz’s face.

“You’re the girl from school, a few lockers down. The one who always looks away when I see you staring.” I regretted saying the last part immediately. Her cheeks flushed with color.

She kicked at the floor. “You’re bleeding.”

I reach up to touch my aching forehead. There’s a gash from where I hit the tree. “It’s fine.”

Liz looks around, her eyes settling on the old first aid kit we kept here. “Let me clean that up.”

Again I don’t protest. I sit down on the floor as she opens the box. She tears open the package of an antiseptic wipe. The familiar scent of rubbing alcohol fills the air. She dabs it on my forehead.

“Ow, that stings.”

“I know, it always did whenever my mom cleaned up my cuts and scrapes.

She keeps wiping “What is this place?”

I appreciated her distracting me from the discomfort. “This is Tommy and I’s childhood hideout. We used to play here for hours.”

“Sounds awesome. Why’d you come back now?”

“I’m hoping he’s headed here.”

She pulls out a bandage, sticking it to my forehead. “so we just wait?

I nodded.

“All done.

She shifted uncomfortably. “Where do you think everyone else went?” The question hung in the air like smoke—thick and noxious.

“I don’t know, but it has something to do with that movie.”

We looked at each other, and an understanding passed between us.