“Sounded like somebody screaming,” Kyle replied. “Lance and Kacey must’ve found themselves a quiet little corner.”
Stephanie made a sound of disgust. “Does anything other than sex ever cross your mind?”
“Hmmmm…” Kyle said. “No, not really.”
“You’re a pig,” she said. “How in the hell did I ever get stuck with you?”
“The gods have deemed this to be,” Kyle said. “Come on. You’ve never thought about it? You and me?”
She laughed. “Never,” she said. “Trust me, never once.”
They walked along the east hall in silence. Kyle followed her up the stairs, a smile crossing his face as he leered at her ass by the candlelight.
“I can feel you staring at my ass,” she said. “Knock it off, you freak.”
They reached the second floor landing and held their candles up, attempting to penetrate the shroud of darkness, neither saying a word for a moment.
“You know,” Kyle said. “I’m really a good guy at heart.”
“Right. I’m sure Hitler had a few redeeming qualities too.”
“I’m serious,” he said. “You’d see it if you ever took the time to get to know me.”
“I’d rather contract genital warts.”
“I can probably help you out with that, you know.”
“Pig.”
“Oink, oink,” Kyle said and laughed.
They walked down the hallway, empty rooms on either side of them. Kyle had been in love with Stephanie since their freshman year. He thought that she was sweet, intelligent, beautiful and everything he looked for in a girl. But he was shy, awkward and often felt like he was incapable of expressing his feelings for her in a normal way. So he compensated for his introverted nature and social-awkwardness with a feigned and often forced extroversion. Kyle knew that he was ridiculous, over the top and even crude at times but he seemed incapable of stopping himself once he got going. The only thing he feared more than being thought of as ridiculous was to not be thought of at all. He looked over at Stephanie and his heart ached as he watched the way the candlelight seemed to make her skin glow and her eyes sparkle. He wished more than anything that he could just relax and be himself and let her get to know the real him. Maybe if he were able to do that, she’d like him.
“So who do you think was screaming?” Kyle asked, just to break the silence.
“No idea,” she said. “Sounded like Ruby but I don’t know for sure. They’re probably just screwing around.”
“Probably,” he murmured. “This is lame. We’re wandering around in the dark just pretending something is going to happen and trying to freak ourselves out.”
“So go back to your dorm then,” Stephanie replied flatly.
“And give you guys the chance to say that I was a chicken and punked out?” He said and smiled. “No way.”
Stephanie stopped short in the middle of the hallway, her eyes fixed on something ahead of them. Kyle stopped and looked to where she was staring as a flash of lightning illuminated the sloppily boarded over window at the far end. The figure of a tall man stood silhouetted against the window. The man stood statue-still and seemed to be watching them.
“Who the fuck is that?” Kyle asked. “Lance? Is that you?”
“It’s him,” Stephanie whispered, her eyes growing wide. “It’s the Midnight Man. He’s real.”
“Bullshit,” Kyle whispered his reply, a note of uncertainty creeping into his voice. “It’s got to be Milo or Lance screwing with us.”
“Does that look like Milo or Lance?”
They stood staring at him, nobody moving and nobody speaking for a long moment. Kyle stole a glance at her and was sure that the fear painted so clearly on her face was mirrored in his own.
“What are we doing?” Kyle whispered. “Let’s just back away and get the hell out of here.”
After a moment, Stephanie nodded but seemed unable to take her eyes off of the figure at the end of the hall. He gripped her hand and together, they took a step backward. And then a second. A soft laugh sounded on a breeze that whispered down the hallway. The candles in their hands flickered for a moment before going out.
“Shit,” Stephanie whispered. “Relight the candles, Kyle. Hurry!”
Kyle fumbled around in his pockets, trying to keep an eye on the Midnight Man at the same time. His heart hammered in his chest as he pulled the matchbook out of his pocket and promptly dropped it.
“Hurry,” Stephanie urged, her voice quavering with fear.
Kyle grabbed the matchbook and with trembling fingers, tried to strike a match. The thin stick snapped.
“Shit!” Kyle yelled.
He grabbed another match and stole a glance at the end of the hallway. A flare of lightning outlined the window and Kyle saw that the shadowy figure was gone.
“Where’d he go?” Kyle whispered.
“Just get the fucking candles lit,” Stephanie pleaded.
Kyle struck a match, relief flooding through him as the orange flame came bursting to life. But it just as suddenly guttered and went out.
“Goddamnit!” Kyle screamed.
Movement in his peripheral vision drew Kyle’s attention. He turned to see a dark shadow outlined against the gloom of the hallway moving toward them. Pale blue eyes that glowed from within a shadowed face bored into Kyle's eyes, seeming to pin him down with a physical mass. Stephanie grabbed his hand and squeezed hard but seemed otherwise frozen in place. Kyle looked down at her hand, awkwardly realizing how soft and smooth her skin felt and thought about how many times he’d wanted to hold her hand, to feel her skin against his own. The Midnight Man stood before them and Kyle knew that this would be the only time he’d ever touch the girl he loved.