Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 101168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Disappointment and humiliation warred.
“We don’t have to do this,” they backtracked. “I thought it’d be fun, but…”
Edgar was chewing on his bottom lip so hard Jamie worried for it, but he didn’t answer.
“Edgar?”
“No, yeah,” Edgar said, voice rough. “It’s okay. Yeah, it’ll be fun. I just wasn’t…expecting it.”
He was clearly lying, but Jamie didn’t know why. What they did know was that they hated lying. You couldn’t trust a liar, even if they were lying for your benefit. Jamie had learned that the hard way.
“Are you sure? Because it seems like you’re not into it. Which is okay, but please tell me.”
“No, it’s cool. Really. Thank you. For planning our date.”
Jamie wasn’t entirely convinced, but when they asked one more time if he was okay and Edgar promised that he was, Jamie took him at his word. Edgar bumped Jamie’s shoulder with his own. It was a charming, jejune gesture that made Jamie think of childhood best friends, siblings, and maybe also partners who’d been together a long time and could communicate complex thoughts through a single gesture. It filled them with warmth.
“Okay, ” they said, allowing their excitement to trickle back in. “Have you ever done one of these before?”
“No, never.”
“I’ve gone on a bunch of them, as research for haunts. The tour guide makes all the difference. That’s why I picked Carys, really, in addition to the fact that we both know her. Did you know the tour guides do their own research into the supernatural history of the city?”
Edgar shook his head. He watched Jamie intently.
“The first one I ever went on was a vampire tour, when I was nine or ten. My parents and my sister weren’t interested, but I begged them to take me. I was hooked. My family had to tell me to shut up about vampires five times a day for the next six months.”
“The birth of a haunter, huh?” Edgar said.
“Yep. My parents are probably still cursing the day.”
“They’re not into it?” Edgar asked.
Jamie’s expression no doubt said there was a lot to discuss, but they only managed briefly, “Supremely not into it.”
Before they could say more, Carys came outside to gather everyone for the tour.
“Hey,” she said to Jamie and Edgar. “Thought I saw a couple familiar names on the roster. It’s so good to see you guys.”
“I’ve heard you’re the best,” Jamie said, and Edgar gave a wave.
“Oh yeah? Did my very objective girlfriend tell you that?” Carys asked.
Jamie waggled their eyebrows in confirmation. She turned to Edgar. “Can’t believe I’m seeing you twice in one week, Edgar. It’s nice.”
“Thanks, you too,” Edgar said, ducking his head.
“All right, everyone, gather around,” Carys announced, raising her voice to include the rest of the group milling around the meet-up spot. “Let me orient you briefly, and then we will set off into the dark and thrilling world of the haunted French Quarter.”
Just the phrase dark and thrilling was enough to get Jamie excited. But Carys was a great speaker, and she held the tour group in her thrall. She managed to make everything she was saying sound like a secret she imparted to them and them alone, and she wielded her black lace parasol like it was an extension of her arm. Jamie would happily have followed her around all night, hearing creepy stories in her smooth voice.
Edgar, to the contrary, did not seem to be having fun at all. In fact, Jamie got the feeling he was actively trying not to listen to the stories on the tour.
He looked the opposite direction of everywhere Carys pointed, his gaze darting around, eyes following each passerby as if he were searching for someone he would only vaguely recognize. At one point, he looked so pointedly away from the tour that he tripped over a Cthulhic tangle of beads, hair extensions, and a discarded shoe on the corner of Bourbon and Ursulines. Jamie caught his elbow and steadied him. Edgar gave an apologetic smile, but his eyes were manic.
“Dude. Are you okay?”
“Uh-huh.” Edgar gave Jamie’s shoulder a squeeze. “Sorry. I’m a klutz.”
Jamie had seen no indication of that up until now, but they supposed Edgar would know. “Okay, well. Just…don’t die on Bourbon Street. It’s undignified.”
Edgar nodded in agreement, and Jamie succumbed once more to Carys’ melodic voice as she told them about the ghost of a young girl in a long white dress holding a gray cat that people had reported seeing since the 1880s.
But ten minutes later, Edgar grabbed Jamie’s arm. For a moment, Jamie thought their plan of holding hands during the scary parts was coming to fruition. But when they turned to Edgar, his face was stark with a terror far greater than Carys’ tale warranted, no matter how well told.
“What’s wrong?” Jamie asked, resting their hand on Edgar’s where it clutched their arm.