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farmers’ market in Union Square and getting apples. I love long drives with my mom and my brother Ryan and his girlfriend, April, to get pumpkins in New Jersey. And I love coming home, getting into pj’s, and settling in to watch horror movies.
    BECAUSE, YES, I ALSO LOVE HORRORMOVIES. Horror is quite possibly my favorite genre.
    In bed.
    At home.
    With my cats, dogs, and family surrounding me.
    HOWEVER. Halloween itself?
    WELL . . . not so much.
    One year, my friends and I decided to go to Knott’s Scary Farm. It was a trip that ended with me curled up into a ball on the ground sobbing because of the clowns being there . . . (IN FRONT OF MY CRUSH no less. NICELY DONE, ABIGAIL.)
    Another Halloween, when I was around seven, ended after I rang someone’s doorbell and what I thought was a FAKE plasticmummy turned out to be their son dressed up as a mummy. What did I do when it moved, you ask?
    I threw all of my hard-earned candy on their lawn and ran SCREAMING and SOBBING down the hill to my parents’ car.
    YES.
    My mom then made my brother, Spencer, go back to pick up all my candy.
    THANKS, MOM. THANKS, SPENCER.
    But there was one particular year that was even more horrifying than the rest.
    Because, as you might learn throughout this book, there is no horror film, no haunted house, no Halloween parlor trick in the world that is quite as horrifying as the inside of a fifteen-year-old girl’s mind.
So let us flash back to Halloween 2011. . . .
    Let me preface by saying that I have NEVER been cool. And that isn’t some self-deprecating “I hate myself” statement. I like myself plenty. I just have never been a “cool kid.” Especially in New York City. For those of you who don’t know the NYC teenager scene, it’s basically a lot of kids with a ton of freedom. New York isn’t like any other city. Most of my friends who live in the suburbs couldn’t wait to be sixteen to get their license so they could go wherever, whenever. In New York City, kids can basically go anywhere from a really young age because of public transportation and the fact that you can walk pretty much anywhere easily. Because of all of the independence so early on, the teens kind of act like they’re in their twenties. Getting into clubs, parties, whatever. It’s intense. And I wasn’t into that. I was more into staying in my room, writing music and novels. LAWL.
    Back then, my best friend was a girl named Katie. At the time, we were inseparable. And we had decided this would be our best Halloween yet. We weren’t gonna repeat Halloween 2010, trick-or-treating with her ten-year-old brother and sister. NOPE. WE WERE COOL THIS YEAR.
    We spent days figuring out our costumes. She decided to be a cat, and I was a Smurf. The blonde one, DUH.
    We had these adorable outfits. BUT . . . living in New York City, the weather is unpredictable. We woke up and heard it was going to be thirty-five degrees. Not exactly a good day for a cute little Halloween outfit.
    I had also heard that Dan * , the cute guy I was in love with, was having a party. I just knew we would get invited. My other friend Mandy * —this whole story will become clearer after you read Chapter 15: “Why I Love Unrequited Love”—was going to hisparty, and she HAD to invite me along . . . right?
    Katie and I decided to be nice and take her little brother out trick-or-treating for a few hours before the (inevitable) party. Well, hours passed, her little brother was racking up the candy, and then we both finally got a group text from Mandy.
    A SELFIE.
    OF HER.
    AND DAN.
    Â 
    WHATTTTTT?!!!!
    Â 
    â€œbest night ever <3”
    ARE U KIDDING ME?!?
    We were shocked. The party was in full swing, Mandy and Dan were hanging out, and Katie and I were now stuck taking her brother house to house to collect Milky Way bars.
    Most of the houses started turning off their lights, and the night was growing dim. At 8:30 p.m. we