The Mary Shelley Club by Goldy Moldavsky (ebook reader for manga TXT) 📕

was all ready and settled in. I had grabbed the big bowl of candy that Mom had prepared for any trick-or-treaters because I was pretty sure no costumed kids were going to show up at our door.

Actually, there had been one kid about half an hour earlier. A tiny Minion from down the hall, who was only allowed to collect goodies from floors two through four. I put a mini Twix in her plastic jack-o’-lantern and sent her on her way.

Just as I was about to hit play, there came a knock on the door. Mom snatched away the candy bowl and went to open it.

Catwoman walked into the apartment. Specifically, Michelle Pfeiffer’s Catwoman, complete with shiny black latex and white stitching. Behind the mask, Saundra winked and said, “I am Catwoman, hear me purr.” And then she purred.

“Saundra!” Mom said. “You look great.” Which she would still have said if Saundra had walked in wearing a potato sack.

“Thank you, Ms. Chavez!”

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“Hello to you, too,” she said, and twirled. “I came to get you for the party.”

“I told you I wasn’t going.”

“Yeah, but you always say that.”

“And I always mean it.”

“And yet you always end up at a party.”

“Only because you drag me.”

“Exactly,” Saundra said. She walked across the living room and back, as if determined to show just how far latex could stretch. Like, there was really no need for the leg lunges (in fact, they looked kind of dangerous in those stiletto boots), but Saundra went to town anyway. “This costume is too sweet not to be seen.”

“The attention to detail is really something,” Mom said. “Rachel, I think you should go!”

“I always knew I liked you, Ms. Chavez.” Saundra pointed her toes and ran her hand up and down the length of herself like she was both the model and the prize on a game show. “So let’s go find you a costume already!”

I almost twisted my ankle stepping out of the Lyft, which was majorly pathetic, as I was in kitten heels barely an inch off the ground. Saundra, surprisingly surefooted in her boots, helped steady me.

We stood in front of one of the many warehouses in Industry City, a part of Brooklyn I’d never even heard of that sat right next to the Gowanus Bay. Looking around, I saw there wasn’t much to the so-called city, just rows upon rows of the same boxy buildings, packed neatly like extra-large shipping containers with walkways between them. Some of them were stores, others looked like office buildings. The one we were in front of had no signs of any kind. It could’ve been an abandoned loft where serial killers disposed of bodies. Which I guess made it the perfect place for rich kids to party.

At home, Saundra had rummaged through my closet, flinging clothing around until she declared everything basic. My mom offered up her closet, and that was where I found it. As soon as I saw the frilly periwinkle dress, the idea for the costume materialized in my head.

“It’s hideous,” Saundra had groaned.

“It’s perfect.”

My mom’s beloved Cincinnati Reds baseball cap had been shoved into the corner of her closet, unworn since about 2016, but tonight it was coming out of retirement. I had the dress, I had the hat, all that I had left to do was plait my hair into two neat braids.

“What are you supposed to be?” Saundra had asked when I stepped out of the bathroom, ready to go.

“I’m P.J. Soles.”

“You’re BJ Souls? Is that, like, an appliance store? A law firm?”

“What? No, I’m P.J. Soles, the actress. You know, from Carrie? The mean girl who wears a baseball cap the entire movie? Even to prom?”

Saundra stared at me blankly. “Carrie? The movie?”

“Yes!”

“Never heard of it.”

“Okay, let’s just go.”

At the warehouse, I couldn’t stop fidgeting, but I didn’t know if it was because my dress itched or because I was about to step into uncharted territory. I’d already been to a couple of parties this school year and it’d been weird, to say the least. I wasn’t exactly looking forward to whatever fun surprises might jump out at me here. But there was no turning back now. Saundra had her claws in me—literally: Catwoman’s black-polished nails were digging into my wrist. I had no choice but to follow.

It was dark inside the warehouse, and empty too, with peeling damp walls straight out of Saw. But we followed the sounds of booming bass to a stairwell at the back. The second floor was a totally different vibe, with bodies bathed in strobe lights, and house music that sounded like wild animals thrown into a ball pit. On a little platform was some kid whose ticket to this party seemed to be the fact that his parents had clearly paid for DJ lessons. He stood behind his equipment and bobbed his head while his Beats headphones rested uselessly around his neck.

But the cherry on top was that there were masks everywhere. The familiar tingling started crawling up my arms, my neck, my cheeks. Flashes of my nightmare from a few nights before pushed their way to the front of my mind. It was hot in here, too noisy, too many people. Now I was the one digging my nails into Saundra’s wrist.

This happened to me sometimes in large crowds, the sense that the walls were closing in. But it was ten times worse with everyone wearing disguises. I could feel the panic coming. It threatened to swallow me up.

“Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea,” I said. But of course it was too loud to hear anything well, and when Saundra turned to me, she just nodded enthusiastically.

“I know, right?!” she shouted over the noise.

We made our way through the throng and I tried again, louder this time. “Can we find a quiet corner or something?”

“Quiet corner,” Saundra snorted. “Do you want people to start calling you Quiet-Corner Rachel? Because they will!”

I tugged at the hem of