The Dream Stalker

29) "I Live Here"

I sat outside on the Cooke's front porch awaiting Shred and Greta's arrival. McKenzie was still inside getting dressed.

To kill time, I began to process my day so far. I had rid myself of my stalker and possibly Principal Peterson as well. It was also starting to feel less and less likely either of them were the Dream Stalker. No matter who was the Dream Stalker, I was certain they would be more discreet than to hire their own nephew to tail me.

Suffice to say, it had been a pretty productive day. And it wasn't even finished, there was still a party to crash. I was eager to see the look on little miss perfect Italia's face when she realized we found a way in despite her determined efforts to keep us out.

I heard the door open behind me, so I looked, expecting to see McKenzie. Instead it was Uncle Kasey. He passed me without a word and headed towards his truck.

"Where are you going?" I asked curiously.

"Work," he replied, without stopping.

As he drove away, I couldn't help but think of what a strange guy my uncle really was. The only thing he seemed to do, apart from eat, sleep, and go to church, was work. What had me even more curious was how a mechanic in such a small town found enough customers to keep himself that busy in the first place, yet still barely make enough to get by. The only explanation I could come up with was he offered great bargains, or he was just a slow worker.

The sound of the door opening again made me dismiss any thoughts about my weird uncle. This time it was McKenzie who exited the house, but for some reason he was wearing the same dress and wig he wore for crossdressing day at school. When McKenzie had said it was going to take a while for him to get dressed, this was not what I was expecting.

"Why?" was all I asked.

"It's a costume party, Aaron!" McKenzie replied, as if that explained everything. He then looked me up and down. "Where's your costume?"

I was dressed simply in my best pair of jeans and a polo shirt, for I assumed that the costume part of Italia's costume party was more of a suggestion than a requirement. Besides, where would I even get a costume from? But the look of disappointment on McKenzie's face told me I was going to need to lie my way out of this if I didn't want to hear about it for the next week.

"What do you mean? Look at my shirt, I'm obviously a polo player," I said with a perfectly straight face.

McKenzie blinked several times.

I began to worry that he wasn't going to buy it, but then that grin of his appeared on his face. "That's right, you're from Florida. They have a bunch of professional polo teams over there don't they? That reminds me. I've been meaning to ask, who's your favorite player?"

"Nick Roldan," I replied, making up a name on the spot.

"Oh, yeah, I've heard he's good," McKenzie said, nodding his head several times as if he knew who that was.

I was saved from any more questions by the arrival of Shred's minivan. McKenzie claimed the passenger seat, forcing me to sit in the back with Greta, whom Shred had already picked up due to his proximity to her house.

Much like myself and McKenzie, both Greta and Shred apparently had opposing opinions on whether costumes were going to be required at this party. For her part, Greta was also crossdressing, but as an old man. She wore a white wig, mustache, and wooly sweater. While Shred was dressed in the same clothing from earlier, which meant he was still wearing his hoodie and grass-stained jeans.

"Why aren't you in a costume?" demanded an irate McKenzie when he noticed Shred's attire. "You're going to ruin everything."

"I have a better question," Shred said, giving McKenzie a sideways glance as drove us away from our house. "Why are you wearing a dress again?"