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He accelerates over a small rise in the road and then we drop down on the other side so fast my stomach lifts to my throat. I squeal in surprise and we both laugh.

“This road is really fun to drive. Don’t worry—I know every inch of it.”

“I’m not worried.” I swallow. “So, is this what you wanted to show me? The road?”

“No. We’ll be there soon. You haven’t been out this way before, have you?”

“Uh, no.” I shake my head. “Weirdly, I don’t do a lot of driving.”

“Good,” he says with a laugh. “It’ll be way more fun if you’ve never seen it before.”

I frown, still having no idea what he’s talking about. But I’m okay waiting.

“So how are you allowed to go out driving in the middle of the night? Don’t your parents freak out?”

He laughs again, but the sound is hollow this time. “They don’t know. My parents aren’t around much.” He sits up from the relaxed position he’d been in. His right hand grips the steering wheel tight enough that his knuckles turn white. “Dad’s a nurse at the local hospital and he works a ton of night shifts. Mom used to be a bank teller, but she got laid off a few years ago, so she took a second-shift job at the manufacturing plant outside town. She got promoted to shift manager last year, which I guess is a pretty big deal.” He shrugs. “It’s good money and benefits. But, especially now that I can take care of myself, they tend to be working or asleep when I’m home.”

“So…do you have to cook for yourself and stuff like that too?”

“Yeah.” He smirks. “Don’t get the wrong impression—it’s mostly cereal, microwave popcorn, and frozen pizza. Or fast food.” He waves vaguely at the bags littering the car.

I sit for a second, letting the information sink in. The fact that he’s at the game shop every night is making a lot more sense.

“I’m surprised you like driving alone at night, then. I’d think it would be too solitary.”

“I’d rather have someone else in the car, but my friends aren’t allowed to leave the house at three a.m.” He smiles over at me. “And it’s not all bad. I can do stuff like this.”

He jacks up the volume and yells the chorus of Weird Al’s “Smells Like Nirvana” at the top of his lungs. I clamp my hands over my ears even as I burst into laughter. Night Nathan is different from Day Nathan. And I like it.

Eventually he turns the music back down. “I’m totally losing my hearing by the time I’m thirty, but I love it.”

“If I can throw someLes Misinto the mix, then you’ll have yourself a singing partner.”

“Text me the titles and I’ll have them ready next time.”

Next time.The words send a jolt through me. I hope there’s a next time.

“So…is that why you like being at the game shop so much? Because otherwise you’d be home alone?”

I bite the inside of my cheek, hoping he won’t be put off by the question. But he nods easily.

“Yeah. It’s a second home to me. Or really, it’s like a first home. I sleep at my house, but I don’t do much more than that there. I’m really grateful to your dad for letting me hang out every night even though I don’t have the money to buy much. He didn’t have to do that, but I think he sees it as community service.” He chuckles lightly. “And he’s good friends with Lucas’s dad, so it made sense for all of us to be there together.”

I’m silent for a moment, staring out into the night and thinking about the store. I’ve always thought Dad ran it because it made him happy. It never occurred to me how the store impacted his customers or the outside community. Ican see now that it does—how Dad treats everybody who comes in the door as friends instead of walking credit cards. A small part of me wishes he would have put that much effort into our relationship, but I know that’s not totally fair.

Nathan flips on his turn signal and pulls onto a narrow road. This is the kind of road where two cars can technically pass each other but it’s going to be tight. Luckily, it’s quiet.

“All right, are you ready? I present to you…the Holiday House.” He slows down and pulls off to the side, then leans his seat back so I have a good view out his driver’s side window.

I gasp. What in the…

Every single square inch of this house’s large front yard is covered with Halloween decorations. Not in a beautiful or tasteful way, but more like the owner was determined to hide every blade of grass with a decoration. There are fake pumpkins as tall as me, inflatable ghosts, and a ridiculous number of skeletons. Massive fuzzy spiders crawl around the yard and up the house.

But the part that makes me shiver in horror are the mannequins.

So. Many. Mannequins.

Some have been dressed as mummies and vampires, others as pirates and knights, along with princesses, witches, and a seriously messed up Elmo.