My phone buzzed with a new text as I began to start up the car. I glanced at it and glanced outside. Maybe the girls would think to buy their own ice cream as well,just in case this stuff got completely ruined. I started up the car and drove a few streets until I found the shop I was looking for. I knew the costume would be cheap and tacky. But if Erik had wanted something better he should've gotten it more in advance. Then again I wasn't exactly doing a lot myself. Simple cape, fake blood and fangs were the extent of my outfit at the moment. I had no doubt the girls would've put much more thought into their costumes and look kick ass. The tag along was a complete mystery to me so I wasn't going to speculate.
I walked into the shop and waved to the bored girl behind the counter. She studied me for a minute before turning back to her magazine. I've had worse rejections though so I shrugged and walked further into the shop. It wasn't hard to find the Halloween stuff and I looked around. I saw white face paint and grabbed that for myself. I noticed the sparkles on the same shelf and ignored those, I wasn't being a twilight vampire.
I found the werewolf costumes and grabbed the male package then paused. There were also female one. They were, of course, slightly slutty. I hoped the girls hadn't gone down that route with their costumes. I kind of lost respect for girls who threw themselves in your line of vision. But the expression on Erik's face when he realised what he'd have to wear would be way too good. I could deal with the insults for a few weeks. And if he didn't wear it, he'd never hear the end of it from Tayla. I approached the counter and quickly handed over the money. Then broke the speed limit a little to get back home.
“Did you get it?” I heard the moment I opened the door.
“Help unpack the bags first and then I'll hand it over,” I replied, dumping the stuff on the kitchen floor. Erik had finished decorating the place and it looked half decent. He pouted from the sofa, where some generic Halloween movie was already playing on the TV.
“Slave-driver,” he muttered before standing up to help. I tried not to grin or laugh as we worked.