Matt was startled by his unexpected passenger. He just stared at me, in silent denial.
“Drive me now! Or I’ll tell the police you were involved!”
“The police?” he blurted out. “What’s Trevor got us into now?”
I could see the angry Count Trevor running down the driveway, his cape flowing in the wind. He was almost at the gate. Gothic Guy hadn’t moved but continued to stare straight at me.
“Drive! Just drive the freakin’ car!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.
The motor started and we peeled away until the Mansion and its unusual occupants were out of view. I turned around and looked out the back window at a shouting Dracula Trevor chasing after us.
“Happy Halloween,” I said to Matt as I let out a sigh of relief.
8
Looking for Trouble
I was making my way to history class when I spotted Trevor walking ahead of me. I noticed something unusual about his indoor ensemble—he was wearing a golf glove on his right hand.
“Making a fashion statement?” I teased, catching up to him. “I guess it’s a good thing you don’t play soccer with your hands!”
He ignored my comments and continued to walk to class.
“Guess you’ll have to miss a few sessions of graffiti club,” I joked. “Since your trigger finger is out of commission.”
He stopped and stared at me coldly. But he thought better of speaking and walked on.
Ouch! I guess I hurt more than his hand.
“I see you made it home safely,” I continued, pursuing him. “Matt took great care of me. He’s a perfect gentleman!”
But then I realized everything. I had taken away Trevor’s pride, his girlfriends, and now had forced his best friend to betray him and side with the enemy. I felt sorry for him…almost.
Trevor paused, staring down at me like he was going to explode. But I was distracted by a strange figure talking to the secretary in the principal’s office. It was Creepy Man! Standing pale in the bright fluorescent light, his long gray overcoat shrouding his skinny body. And hanging from his pale, bony hand was my dad’s tennis racket.
I pulled a fuming Trevor to the wall, where we could safely overhear the conversation.
“What are you doing?” Trevor asked, trying to wriggle away.
“Shhh! That’s the butler from the Mansion!” I whispered, pointing.
“So what?”
“He’s looking for us!”
“How can he be looking for us? It was dark, stupid!”
“That guy saw us! He probably found the spray cans on the lawn and whatever stuff you sprayed on the wall as proof! And he has my dad’s tennis racket!”
“Damn, freak, if you hadn’t hit me none of this would have happened.”
“If you hadn’t been born, none of this would have happened, you creep. Shhh, already!”
“Sir, you can leave the racket with us and we can make an announcement,” I heard Mrs. Gerber reply. “What did you say the girl was wearing?”
“A tennis outfit, miss.”
“For Halloween?” She laughed and reached for the racket.
But Creepy Man drew back. “I’d prefer to keep it in my possession for now. If you find the owner, she knows where she can claim it. Good day,” he said and bowed to a charmed Mrs. Gerber.
I freaked and pulled Trevor behind a statue of Teddy Roosevelt. “It’s a trap,” I said, squeezing Trevor’s gloved hand. “I’ll show up and the police will be waiting with handcuffs!”
Students stared at Creepy Man as he walked creepily toward the front doors, glancing around as he left. He was looking for us.
“He’s taking the evidence with him, and that evidence is worth two hundred dollars,” I whispered to Trevor.
“Yeah, the evidence,” he said. “Against you!”
“Me? Your fingerprints were all over it. That guy saw you, too.”
“He only saw me running. He could have been after you. You were mad he ran out of candy, so you sprayed his house until he heard you making noise, then you dropped your candy and tennis racket when the lights came on,” Trevor said, like he was Sherlock Holmes solving the Case of the Missing Tennis Racket.
“You’re going to pin this on me? I can’t believe you!”
“Don’t worry, I don’t think you’ll go to jail over this, babe. You’ll just get a major spanking by that crazy butler.”
I had gotten in enough trouble for things I had done; I didn’t want to be punished for things I hadn’t done.
Trevor started walking to class.
I caught up to him. “I’ll drag you down so bad if anything happens!”
“Who will they believe, freak—an honors student who is a star soccer player or a two-bit gothic chick with one friend, who spends more time in the principal’s office than in class?”