“Maybe she has a father I can play tennis with,” my father said hopefully.
“Whoever it is will need to get rid of all those old mirrors and crates,” I added, not realizing what I had said.
They all looked at me. “What crates?” my mom asked. “Don’t tell me you’ve snuck into that house!”
“It’s just something I heard.”
“Raven!” my mother said in that disapproving mother tone.
It seemed no one in Dullsville had seen the new owners. It was wonderful to have a mystery in this town for a change. Everyone already knew most everything that happened in Dullsville, and most of it wasn’t worth knowing.
Matt Wells lived on the good side of town, at the edge of Oakley Woods. Becky and I arrived late and entered the party like we were movie stars entering a premiere. Or rather I did. Poor Becky hung tightly to my side like she was visiting the dentist.
“It’ll be okay,” I reassured her. “It’s a party!”
But I knew why she was nervous. We were subjecting ourselves to ridicule when we could have been safely at home watching TV like Trevor said. But why should the snobs have all the fun? Just because Matt’s bedroom was the size of my living room? Just because we didn’t wear clothes that were “in”? So that meant I should sit home on my sixteenth birthday?
I felt like Moses parting the Red Sea, as a crowd of snobs dispersed from the hallway upon our entry. Our classmates eyeballed me, decked out in my usual Gothic garb. Too bad Tommy Hilfiger wasn’t there. He’d have been flattered. Everyone was wearing his clothes like a school uniform. The sound of Aerosmith rocked throughout Matt’s living room. A thick layer of smoke hung above the couches, and the smell of beer permeated the air like cheap incense. Couples who weren’t staring disapprovingly at us were staring adoringly at each other. It was going to be useless to try to talk to anyone.
“I can’t believe you showed up,” Matt said, spotting us in the hallway. “I’d take a picture, but I don’t know if you’d be visible!” Yet despite his bark, Matt wasn’t as cruel as Trevor. “Beers are out back,” he then said. “Want me to show you the way?”
Becky was in awe of Matt. She shook her head and locked herself in the hallway bathroom. Matt laughed and headed for the kitchen. I waited in the living room by a concert-sized speaker, perusing the CDs. Michael Bolton, Celine Dion, and a bunch of show tunes. I wasn’t surprised.
I went back to check on Becky and found the bathroom door open. She wasn’t in the hallway, so I walked through the crowd of hammered classmates to the kitchen. A group of hundred-dollar-hairstyle girls glared at me and left, leaving me alone. Or so I thought.
“Hey, sexy Monster Chick,” a voice said behind me. It was Trevor.
He was leaning against the wall next to me, a can of Budweiser dangling from his hand.
“Does that line work for you at every party?”
He smiled a seductive smile. “I’ve never kissed a girl with black lips before.”
“You’ve never kissed a girl before,” I said and walked past him.
He grabbed my arm and pulled me back to him. He looked at me with his blue eyes and kissed me on the mouth! I have to admit, he was a great kisser, and it didn’t hurt that he was gorgeous.
Trevor Mitchell had never even touched me, much less kissed me, except when he bit me in kindergarten. The most I ever got was a thump on the head when I walked too close to him. He had to be drunk. Maybe it was a joke—maybe he was just trying to mess with me. But the way his lips felt against mine, it seemed like we were both enjoying it. I didn’t know what to think as he pulled me out the back door, past an inebriated couple mashing on the steps, past garbage cans and the fountain, under tall trees and darkness.
“Are you scared of the dark, Monster Girl?” The woods let so little light in, it was hard to make out the red stripes on his sweater.
“No, I quite like it.”
He pushed me up against a tree and started kissing me for real. His hands were everywhere—on me, on the tree.
“I’ve always wanted to kiss a vampire!” he said, coming up for air.
“I’ve always wanted to kiss a Neanderthal.”
He laughed and went on kissing me.
“So does this mean we’re going together?” I asked. Now I was the one coming up for air.
“What?”
“Like when we go to school? We’ll hold hands in the halls and hang out together at lunch? See movies on the weekends?”
“Yeah, whatever.”
“Then we’re going together?”
“Yeah.” He laughed. “You can watch me play soccer, and I can watch you turn into a bat.” He began softly biting me on the neck. “I bet you like it like this, don’t you, Monster Girl?”