Parker groaned, practically rolling over. Her forehead hit my knee and her mop of ginger hair curtained over my legs. She tensed up and I raised my hands in total confusion. I looked around, somehow meeting Norah Brady's eyes first. She blinked and started looking around too, as if Parker went down from a phantasmal punch in the gut and she wanted to find the spectral culprit.

"Parker?" I whispered, leaning closer. She moaned, squirming around and I softly rested my hand on her back, rubbing small hesitant circles. "You okay?" I asked closer to her face, bending my body in a mock yoga position.

Whispering low enough for only me to hear, Parker told me, "Play. Along."

Something in my brain clicked and this time, I spoke a little louder, "Oh, no..." On my knee, I could feel Parker snort. "Is your stomach acting up again?"

"What's that?" Camille jumped up. She carefully maneuvered around the girls. She crouched around me, spying Parker curled up on the floor. "Parker? You okay?"

"Um," I started talking, letting the words tumble out as I came up with the excuse. Every word was a little shaky, a little dumb and only a little believable. "Yeah, Parker's stomach has been hurting all day but uh, she really wanted to come."

"Parker?" Camille seemed to take my dumb excuse to heart, her voice going soft and sweet. Their fight had long evaporated from her memory. She touched Parker's back too. "Is it bad?"

"Maybe she just needs to use the bathroom?" Norah offered.

Parker groaned louder, growling at Norah from the floor, "I don't have to poop, you perv."

"That's not—" Norah blabbered, her face flushing and eyes panicking to both avoid looking at Camille and also, wishing to convey how much she wasn't trying to comment on Parker's bathroom experience. "Maybe she needs to go home?"

"I'm her ride," I said to Camille.

Camille's shoulders slumped. "Let me find some stomach medicine and then, I'll send you off."

"I'm sorry Camille," Parker grumbled, sounding downright pitiful. If I didn't know any better, I might've believed her act. My hand moved on its own, continuing to rub her back as I forced my brows to scrunch so I could look concerned.

Camille came back with gifts like the world's most underwhelming Santa Claus, handing Parker some Advil and a can of Sprite. She gave me a bottle of water for after and I thanked her, feeling a strange wormy feeling over the fact that I was in charge of taking care of another person. They all looked at me with the expectation that Parker was in my hands, that she was mine.

Quickly, I shoved us out the door because the longer we kept the ruse going, the more time Camille had to see right through it. I mean, this level of acting was as see-through as a used plastic baggie once full of sour cream and onion potato chips.

"So, what was all that about?" I asked, still half-carrying Parker to the car, even though we both knew she didn't need it. "You really give the actors a hard time, but that might have been the most dramatic thing I have ever seen."

"Just get in the car," Parker mumbled like a crazy person. It's happened. She's snapped and she's taking me down with her. Somehow, I always knew it would end like this. Parker grunted, insisting, "Just be cool for like the first time in your life."

"I will leave you here."

"I'll leave you here."

"That doesn't make sense."

I opened my car door for her and climbed into the driver's seat. Parker curled herself into a little ball, groaning and moaning and bitching, even though no one could hear it. She didn't stretch out until I drove at least three houses away, then she popped up so fast, I thought I was going to scream my heart out. Swerving out of the lane and back, I smacked Parker across the arm. "You need to check your head! What are we doing?!"

"Forget that party! You and I are going on a Pumpkin hunt. We're carving pumpkins tonight." She took out her phone, opening her GPS app. "Are you up for an adventure, Elizabeth Gloria Medina Hernandez?"

My heart fluttered. She didn't mean to do it because how could she possibly know, but the one thing that I wanted more than anything was to be alone with Parker, free from Emily and the others. I grinned. "Actually, I have a playlist for this."

"No, you don't." Parker sounded legitimately astounded, but I couldn't believe she doubted me after all this time. I tapped away on my phone, pulling up a playlist I was actually pretty proud of:

1. Geronimo by Sheppard

2. Don't Stop Me Now by Queen

3. When the Booth Goes Bright from Amelie (Original London Cast Recording)

4. You Know it by Colony House

5. Etc.

"You're the best," Parker said, assaulting me with her freckles and her dimples and her shiny eyes. "I actually can't stand it."

"I can't stand you either," I mumbled, a smile cracking my face. At some point, all this smiling was going to make my face sore. I kind of liked the ache though, there and in my chest. I allowed Parker to lead the way out of town.

Between singing and dancing, we talked about Halloweens past, about Parker's last Halloween in New York and I told her all about Camille and I handing out candies, while my brother Danny tried to scare little kids by jumping out of the bushes.

We talked about the big things like dreams and the ideas desperate to escape our heads and become real things in the world. We talked about the little things like the best fast food French fry and Parker gave me hell for only owning one pair of shoes (apparently my sandals didn't count). I told her I had my other, older pair of gray converses too, but that also didn't count.

I found myself on the side of town that I didn't even know existed. Strangely, I was disappointed to find out I lived deeper in the country than I thought. Finding myself at the "Happy Farm's Pumpkin Patch" made me rethink not only my day, but my entire life. Sometimes I just had to wonder how I ended up in these situations.

The sky was overcast, and we were quickly reminded that we dressed to be inside today, not to be outside and threatened by the crisp breeze. Parker bought me a warm apple cider to make up for it. The cold was worth it though to watch Parker hype herself up. She walked backwards down the gravel and dirt trail that led to the actual patch. The entrance was sparse of people but packed with enough fall décor to make a suburban middle-aged white woman cry out in delight and a small farm to table market. I don't know what the owners sprayed all over this place, but it smelled liked the inside of a Target candle.

Parker talked fast and louder than I think she realized. "There's gonna be like a huge field of little pumpkins and the other side will have hundreds of big ones. Grab whichever one you want and I'll carry it."

"I can carry my own pumpkin," I said, trying not to look too amused, fearing she might stop this adorable behavior. I liked catching Parker off-guard, when she wasn't trying to be the coolest girl in the universe. I liked this dorky Parker.

"Alright, but if we get tiny ones, I'll carry them. Maybe I should get Hayden one too. He might feel left out. I don't know. Then, we'll take them to my house. Oh, shit, maybe we could try and roast the seeds. Or toast them? Which is it?"

"I don't know. You'll have to browse Pinterest on the way back."

I sipped my cider, that was equally sweet and spicy. It warmed my entire body on the way down and my frozen muscles loosened and melted in gooey puddles. We broke through the tall grass together and I wandered a bit longer on my own, expecting to see the directions to the patch... then, I noticed the lone scarecrow in the wide field, bigger than a football field. Then, I noticed a truck with only a couple of pumpkins in the bed. I saw a miniature windmill standing all alone and out of my own awkwardness, I burst out laughing.

"You're right," I said, unable to bear it. My sides were splitting apart. "This is like nothing I've ever seen."

"What? How? Where?" Parker seemed to ask the scarecrow as we meandered to the few gourds tossed randomly on the ground. The biggest one reached up to my ankle, but was just as skinny. "This won't do, no way."

Parker took out her phone, her brows furrowed so deep, I thought they'd cover her eyes. "We have to go to another pumpkin patch. I'll pay for your gas."

"Wow. My gas? I wish I knew you were this much of a romantic twelve days ago, I would've been more inclined to say yes to dating."

Parker's anger evaporated and she looked up from the screen. Her smile cut right through my chest like an arrow through a bullseye. She said, "I said I was going to get you a pumpkin, so I'm going to get you a pumpkin, even if it kills me."

"What a noble death."

"I shall perish as a saint. Chug that cider," Parker instructed as she snatched my hand. Her energy created sparks in the air that nipped at my face. "We've got places to be."

"Good, that scarecrow looks like he's about to wake up," I muttered before slamming the rest of my drink and the second I finished it, Parker yanked my arm and we ran at full force back to the car.

#

I really couldn't help it.

I had to laugh again.

At our feet was a fallen army of pumpkins. Mold covered all the pumpkins that weren't already liquefied into piles of gunk. There were more flies than people here and despite the smell and Parker losing her mind at the sky, yelling "WHAT ARE THE CHANCES" over and over again and scaring everyone around us, I laughed. Despite it all, I laughed. My cheeks burned, begging for some relief.

I bent over and did everything to keep standing. I wanted to collapse, but my cushion would've been a rotted pumpkin carcass.

"I'm gonna pee," I whined.

"Another one," Parker snapped. She grabbed me and we were running again, well she dragged me. I was hardly capable of standing, let alone running. "Third time's the charm, right?"

#

"Fourth time's the charm?" I asked, looking up at the closed sign. It was in the middle of the metal chain that closed the entrance off. My van's low beams cast the entrance in a golden light now that the sun was retreating to the earth.

"I'm gonna sneak in," Parker said, already lifting one of her tarantula legs over the chain.

"You are not!" I gasped and dragged her back to the car.

At the fifth place and the last place within three hours of town, the Tanner Farm was also closed. I chucked a rock at the sign and yelled, "It says closes at nine on your website!" I threw another because it made me feel better. I missed because I couldn't be any more of a loser. "That's false advertising!"

"At least we tried," Lizzie said with a measly shrug, like she was giving out participation trophies, but I wanted the grand prize, the real prize: an actual fucking pumpkin.

"It's not over yet. There's one place that never closes. It might be a cursed place, but we're out of options and I kind of want a bucket of cheese balls."

"Whoa. What is it? My birthday? What are we waiting for? Let's go."

We went to Walmart.

Our basket held three pumpkins that weren't molded, a bucket of cheese balls, two packages of sour straws, a frozen pepperoni pizza, apple cider mix and a copy of Hocus Pocus with the director's commentary. We suffered in a line of a thousand people, underneath the unforgiving fluorescent light. We stood behind a woman talking on the phone about her cousin who may be her brother that just got arrested for doing donuts in an elementary school parking lot.

I caught Lizzie eyeing me. She nudged me. "Why the long face?"

I didn't even realize I was grimacing. Slapping my cheeks, I tried to snap out of it, but there was still a tight coil in my chest. "Sorry, it just sucks. I really wanted you to see a real pumpkin patch. I mean, it's really about the pumpkin carving, but still..."

"We can try again later."

"I know, but are you having fun?" I asked, just realizing how big of a concern that was to me. I really didn't want her to be annoyed with me. I really, really didn't want her to be disappointed in me either.

Lizzie smiled. "I'm having fun."

I let out a breath and my smile arrived on its own, outside of my control. Lizzie couldn't comfort me with so few words because I knew from the bottom of my heart that she was telling the absolute truth. Lizzie would never try to bullshit me just to get me to shut up or try to trick me. If Lizzie said she was having fun, I knew she meant it.

"Let's check out quickly," I told Lizzie. "I wanna hop back into the makeout wagon."

Color trickled across Lizzie's face and she rolled her eyes, but she was smiling her best smile and I promised her we'd have more fun on Sunday when we camped outside of Miss Patty's shop. We made a game plan for the rest of the weekend.

#

This whole chapter was written just to make ME laugh. Lol. Last year, when my siblings and I went to a Pumpkin Patch, it wasn't this bad, but I'll never forget the fallen Pumpkin soldiers everywhere. We'll see the conclusion to day 12 next week! We're hitting that midpoint kids! AH!

Did you carve pumpkins last year? Are you planning to this year? How serious do you get? What are your Spooky Season rituals? Also, does an evening of racing around and finding pumpkins sound fun to you?