No one is checking their emails tonight. What the hell? I’m in Grant West. Hello. I need hourly updates, none of this whenever you get to it crap. I’m a part of the Wolf Crew. I mean, I’m not, but you guys know what I mean. I’m blood. I can feel Cross’s emotions sometimes. That makes me half him, and that sounds weird.

Fine.

Signing off.

Love everyone.

Did you guys know that band Sustain used to play here a lot? So cool!

Race says you guys suck. Wait. Never mind. He was saying that about his cell reception.

Keep. Me. Updated!

THE BEST TWIN

Also, I’m not liking that I’m not in the ‘Cain group’ email list. So not cool.

Chapter Nineteen

BREN

I’d forgotten it was Halloween this weekend.

That’s something I should’ve remembered, or I felt like I should’ve. We walked into Coug r Lanes and it was full of witches, goblins, angels, even some dressed up as politicians. There was a guy who’d made himself into a condom stand. Another person was dressed up as a giant wiener dog.

“Whoa.” Zellman drew up short.

Neon orange lights were everywhere. Lining the bowling lanes, under every shelf that the bowling balls were on, under all of the counters. There was so much orange that no other lights were needed. I’d been in here just today and hadn’t noticed the decorations, but now there was a giant witch hanging over the lanes. A huge squid looked like it was coming down from the ceiling, set above the cash register. There were spider webs all over. A small claw machine game was filled to the brim with candy bars.

A guy was behind the register, someone I’d never seen before. He hadn’t seen me either. There was no recognition when we stepped up and asked for a lane. I had called ahead, but the line was busy.

The guy frowned at me. “We won’t have an opening for another hour.”

Zellman frowned. “Fuck that. There’s two open right now.” He gestured to the far end.

“They’re reserve—”

“Let them have one.” Brock was coming down from the direction of the offices. He was behind the counter and he nodded at me. “This is Monroe. She works the day hours.”

The guy blinked, staring at me. “Whoa. Hey! You’re Bren Bren?”

“Uh…”

Zellman started laughing. “Bren Bren! Classic. Good thing you’re behind that counter. You’ll still have your head attached.”

I hit his chest. “Zellman.”

He didn’t react, just moved out of the way and put some cash on the counter. “For the lane. Thank you, sir.”

The guy shrugged, taking the cash. He filled out shoe orders and moved down the counter to help a couple of ladies from The View. I was assuming the girl in dreadlocks was Whoopi.

“These are your friends, Bren?”