“Where do you think you’re going dressed like that?” my mom asked.
“I’m going to a dance.”
“With Becky?”
“No, with Alexander.”
“Who’s Alexander?”
“The love of my life!”
“What’s this I hear about love?” my dad asked, entering the kitchen. “Raven, where are you going dressed like that?”
“She says she’s going to a dance with the love of her life,” my mom said.
“You’re going nowhere in that! And who’s the love of your life? A boy from school?”
“Alexander Sterling,” I proclaimed.
“As in, the Sterlings that live in the Mansion?” my dad asked.
“The one and only!”
“Not the Sterling boy!” my mom said, shocked. “I’ve heard horror stories about him! He hangs out at cemeteries and is never seen in the light of day, like a vampire.”
“Do you think I’d be going to a dance with a vampire?”
They both stared at me strangely and said nothing.
“Don’t be like everyone else in this town!” I shouted.
“Honey, I’ve heard the stories all over town!” my mom gossiped. “Just yesterday, Natalie Mitchell was saying—”
“Mom, who are you going to believe, me or Natalie Mitchell? This night is very important. It’s Alexander’s first dance, too. He’s so dreamy and intelligent! He knows about art and culture and—”
“Cemeteries?” my dad asked.
“He’s not like what people say! He’s the most fantabulous guy in our solar system—besides you, Dad.”
“Well, in that case, have fun.”
“Paul!”
“But not in that outfit,” my dad quickly demanded. “Sarah, I’m glad she’s going to a dance. Raven’s actually going to school without being forced. This is the most normal thing she’s done lately.”
My mom glared at him.
“But not in that outfit,” he repeated.
“Dad, this is all the rage in Europe!”
“But we’re not in Europe. We’re in a quiet little town where turtlenecks are the rage. Buttoned-up collars, long sleeves, and long skirts.”
“No way!” I declared.
“This boy hasn’t been out of his room in years, and you’re going to let him escort your daughter looking like that?” my mom asked. “Paul, do something.”
My father went to the closet. “Here, wear this,” he said, handing me one of his sports coats. “It’s black.”
I stared at him in disbelief.
“It’s this or my black bathrobe,” he said.
I reluctantly grabbed the coat.
“And we’ll be meeting the most fantabulous guy in the solar system when he comes to pick you up?” my mother chimed in.
“Are you kidding?” I was stunned. “Of course not!”
“It’s only right, we didn’t even know you were seeing him. We had no idea you were going to a dance.”
“You want to interrogate and embarrass him. Not to mention me.”
“That’s what dating is all about. If your date can stand the questions and the parental embarrassment, then he’s all yours,” my dad teased.
“It’s not fair! Do you want to come with us, too?”
“Yes,” they both replied.
“This is hideous! It’s the biggest night of my life, and you’re going to ruin it!”
I heard a car pulling into the driveway. “He’s here!” I screamed, peering out the window. “You guys have to be cool!” I said, running around frantically. “Channel those hippie days for me, please! Think about love beads and Joni Mitchell. Think bell-bottoms and incense, not golf pants and china,” I begged. “And nothing about cemeteries!”
I wanted this night to be perfect, like it was my wedding day. But I felt like a bride who suddenly wished she had eloped.
Now that my parents were going to meet my date, my hands began to shake. I was hoping he wouldn’t freak out sitting on their perky pastel furniture.
When the doorbell rang, I dashed to greet him. Alexander looked amazing. He was wearing a glossy, chic black three-piece suit and a red silk tie. He looked like one of the billion-dollar basketball players that I see on television interviews. He held a box wrapped in flowered paper.
“Wow!” he said, looking me over. My father nodded to me to put on the sports coat with a scolding eye. Instead I draped it over a chair.
“I should have worn a knit hat or snow boots,” he said awkwardly. “I didn’t really keep with the theme.”
“Forget it! You’ll be the best-looking guy there,” I complimented, pulling him into the living room. “These are my parents, Sarah and Paul Madison.”