Tricking Leads to Treating
“Come on now, it isn’t that hard to shut a door is it James?” Edward’s English accent came ringing out of my phones’ speakers.
“Stop being a twit, me’ satchel was gettin’ in between the damn door.” I remarked, at the boy, shutting the door, and facing my phone where Edward’s face was.
“Stop calling it a satchel,” he gave me this stare, rolling his head back, “we both knoow it’s called a purse.” He threw his head back to face me; I rolled my eyes at the idiotic boy who I was currently facetiming as I stepped down the few steps down to the sidewalk. `
I shook my head “It’s not a fucking purse, we’ve been through this before, it’s a bag for men, I did not find it in the woman’s section.” I gave my house a glance, the Irish flag swaying in the wind proudly, dug underneath Great Britain's soil.
“No course ya’ didn’t, you would’ve dirtied your knickers while turning it in to the cashier.” Edward’s head full of brown feathered hair turned to the left, “Oi,” I gave him a stare, lifting an eyebrow, my arm lifted at the same height as my head.
I walked down a step to the road to get around a small boy in a costume, what I presume to be his mother and a baby in a carriage. Jumping right back onto the sidewalk after passing them. “Whatever, a pretty boy with a pretty purse, guess it does right.”
“Ar’ ye’ flurting with me Ed? I get it, I’m hot, I’m irresisti'ble, I have this amazing charis'matic personality that blows your’ mind away whenever we speak; but have some control ey’ lad.”
“So I was right, it’s a purse,” he lifted an eyebrow, staring at me through the iPhone’s screen, a smoldering look that I wanted to bash into the floor so many times before, much like now. I groaned throwing my head back, giving myself a face palm.
His laugh that stands between a cackle and a giggle blasted from my phone’s speakers. “Stop arsingaround will ye',” one end of my lips turned up, “we haven’t even started trick or treating yet and ye’ British accent is al’ready becoming de’ most annoying thing in de world.”
Edward visibly lifted his hand up that wasn’t holding his expensive iPhone, and shrugged his shoulders. I rolled my eyes; I walked down to the road after at the end of the block, crossing streets.
“Did ya’ remember the map we printed out to tr-. “ I interrupted Edward, mocking him. “Track down the houses with the best candy? Yes, I remember after you wouldn’t let me sleep last night from all your ‘reminding.’ And yes I brought a marker as well.” I took a glance seeing Great Britain’s flag on various houses, either on the lawn or waving, attached to the wall.
Edward had hooked us up with a map of our small town; he emailed it to me so that I could print it. On Halloween, which by the way, is today. We would bring a copy or two each, and begin trick or treating, we'll stay on the phone during the whole thing too. We separate so that we can cover ground and highlight the houses that have the best candy, we then meet up halfway. And as quickly as we can, we trick or treat together for a block, after we head to my house, without our parents’ consent; they're not home. And scan it, uploading it onto our website for neighbors to see where the best candies are at. We then receive five dollars from each customer. We made it so you can't open it on more than one device and if you were to take a screenshot, then it would block you from doing so. It’s pretty much fool proof. I let Edward take charge of all it. I mostly just advertised and aided him with ideas. Either way I make a profit. Money is money and time is money, the more we hurried the more we help people find the best houses, and help their money get to our pockets. After the plan we made, we'll sleep over at Edward's house, a couple blocks from mine.
Once Ed went home babbling his mouth off about how much my family show their Irish pride off and cuss; so they don't let him over to mine too much anymore for their "fowl" language. I honestly don't know what to say in his defense for this. Not his brightest idea.
“How do you even find de’ map of our town with the houses and all?” I asked, looking at him, an eyebrow up.
“Young one, that’s for me to know and for you to not know.” He starred back, I rolled my eyes, “Yes roll your eyes, check if there’s a brain back there, or the next time since you do it so often.” He remarked.
“You're so mean! Haha, I hate you, go die, why am I even friends with you.” I ended the facetime, laughing. This guy is so desperate, no doubt in my mind he’s going to facetime me back soon.
The sun was at its horizon, making the view of the road and Halloween decorated houses, the trees both green and orange with red and browns really quite a view. I took off the latch on the satchel and took out my photography camera, with no cars nearby, the neighborhood is always clam; I stood at the middle of the road. Children walking in costumes on the sidewalks, it was really nice, I snapped a couple of pictures. I admired the view for a bit, although it's not the brightest idea to stand in the middle of a road. But it's always chill here, barely any cars.
Hopping onto the sidewalk again, skimming through the pictures.
My phone began ringing with the song Fergalicious by Fergie, (no shame) I answered. “What do ya' want?” I put my late model of an phone in between my shoulder and cheek even though it was on facetime rather than on a regular call. While I placed my DCLR camera back in my satchel carefully. Taking my phone into my hand so I could see him, vice versa for him.
“What is the Karate expert’s favorite beverage?” He started, I took a deep breathe in, the screen showed he was staring at me intently with his mixture of blue and green coloured eyes, a playful glint with a small smile on his naturally pink lips.
“What, what is it.” I looked at him with an unamused stare, but some part of me was kind of excited for his lame and corny jokes.
“Kara-tea,” His eyes scrunched up laughing, only slightly open, perhaps to catch my reaction, the camera angle moving like he bent over laughing. “Oh my god,” he laughed, “I can’t breathe!”
I started laughing at him and maybe a little at the joke. “You’re such an idiot,” I tugged down the hoody of my onesie lower, not touching my forehead.
I was dressed up in a cat onesie, I don’t care that a grand majority of the female population is wearing ones alike, with the same idea. I do what I wish.
Edward was dressed up as Peter-pan, and can I tell you, that ass look fly in those tights. As Americans may say, the word "arse" just doesn't fit into the sentence. Like his in skinny jeans, or anything really at this point.
People always tagged him to the image of Peter-pan because he has very delicate and small facial features. So it went with him a lot, he has tall, thin but curvy body figure too. He's unique, and we all love him for it. Me, his family, mine, friends, all of us. He'll always find space to engrave his name and personality in your mind for eternity. Leaving a mark.
"I love Halloween. Free junk food, possibly of being drugged, kidnapped, and or ran over, etc.? Yes," Edward pointed out a finger in my direction through his phone, "but free junk food, and um... Yeah the food, I only do it for the food... And to spend time with my favorite person in the world."
I laughed covering my nose, looking down at my screen, he was looking up, with a thoughtful look on his face, and then he meets my glance. He gave me a grin, his right dimple going into show. Looking away again, I starred a bit more at him before checking the time.
Roughly 10 minutes before we had to head to Ed's house for a sleepover, because once Edward went home babbling his mouth off about how much my family show their Irish pride off and cuss; so they don't let him over to mine too much anymore. I honestly don't know what to say in his defense for this.
I walked up the steps to houses porch, little plastic orange pumpkins lights decorating the walls in a zag-zag pattern. Ghost and zombie props splayed on the yard, there was purple pumpkin basket on a black chair. A tapped paper on the chair said, "Enjoy on ONE piece of candy per person!"
Eh, taking three won't do any harm... or six. Edward's voice came from the speaker, "No, there is no age limit-." I leant down to pick up the pieces, heavy footsteps and breathing came from behind me. I shivered a little, turning my head to catch the view of a boy with a Woody from the Toy Story series grip onto the pumpkin's side, with a quick turn he began sprinting.
"What the fock'," I flew behind him, this was the last home I would hit. The last, nearly freaking down with the second the pillow case! Who the fudge does he think he is to do such a dick move, "Ey nitwit, forgot tipping over the chair, your tantrum over why your mom can't buy you a life is lacking!" I sprinted after him, clutching my phone, my feet mildly tripped over each other, but I continued before full on falling on my knees, surely scrapping them.
"Noooooo!" My arm reaching towards him, the guy turning a corner. "God focking' dammit."
"Ey', James! You okay? Where are you? Did something happen?" Ed's voice rang."
I looked down, my knees were creating a small puddle of dark blood. With the adrenaline, I didn't feel anything, "no. I'm not okay. The worst just happened."
"WHAT! Wha-what happened?!" He panicked, holding his phone with two hands, his eyebrows furrowed.
"Someone stole my candy," I took a breath in, "and didn't say sorry... Or please."