“No, it’s okay.”
“I don’t want you to get expelled. Besides, we have a dance to attend,” he said, making us both stand up.
I walked out hand-in-hand with the guy I had the most chemistry with, his name still etched on the blackboard.
As we approached the gym, I could already feel the cold stares. Everyone was looking at Alexander like he had come from another planet and at me like they always looked at me.
Miss Fay, my nosy algebra teacher, was collecting tickets by the door. “I see you arrived at the dance on time, Raven. Too bad you can’t do the same for algebra. I’ve never seen this gentleman at school,” she added, scrutinizing Alexander.
“That’s because he doesn’t go here.” Just take the tickets, lady! I skipped the introductions and pulled Alexander inside.
We walked into the Snow Ball. I didn’t know if it was because I was with Alexander, or because it was my first dance, but white had never looked so wonderful. Plastic icicles and snowflakes hung from the ceiling, and the floor was covered with powdery snow. Artificial snow softly sprinkled down from the ceiling. Everyone was dressed in shimmering winter dresses or corduroys with sweaters, mittens, scarves, and hats. The blasting air conditioning sent chills through me.
Even the rock band, The Push-ups, fit the theme with their stocking caps and winter boots. Refreshments were set up underneath the scoreboard—snow cones, cider, and hot chocolate.
I could hear whispers, laughs, and gasps as we walked past the bundled-up students. The band, too, was looking at us.
“You want to get some hot chocolate before some senior spikes it?” I asked, trying to distract Alexander from all the attention.
“I’m not thirsty,” he replied, watching the dancers.
“I thought you said you were always thirsty?”
The band started to play an electric version of “Winter Wonderland.”
“Can I have this dance?” I asked, offering my hand.
I smiled with delight as we walked through the powdered snow to the dance floor.
I was in heaven. I had the best date at the Snow Ball—there was no one more gorgeous than Alexander, and he danced like a dream. We forgot that we were outsiders and thrashed our bodies around like regulars in a trendy club. We danced one song after another without stopping—“Cold As Ice,” “Ice Cream,” “Frosty the Snowman.”
The band started to sing, “I Melt with You.” The gym was spinning as tiny powdered snowflakes gently fell on us. Alexander and I screamed with laughter as we tripped over an inebriated soccer snob who was making a snow angel on the floor. When the music stopped, I squeezed Alexander like mad, like this was our own private dance. But of course, we weren’t alone, as a familiar voice reminded me.
“Does the asylum know you’ve escaped?” Trevor asked, appearing beside Alexander.
I led Alexander to the refreshment table and grabbed two cherry snow cones.
“Does the warden know you’re here?” Trevor asked, pursuing us.
“Trevor, go away!” I said, shielding Alexander with my body.
“Oh, is the Bride of Frankenstein having PMS?”
“Trevor, enough!” I couldn’t see Alexander’s reaction, but I could feel his hands on my shoulders, drawing me back.
“But this is just the beginning, Raven, just the beginning! Don’t they have dungeon dancing? You have to actually go to school to come to the dances,” he said to Alexander. “But I guess in Hell there are no rules.”
“Shut up!” I said. “Don’t you have your own date? Or would that be Matt?” I asked sarcastically.
“Very good. She’s clever,” he said to Alexander. “But not too clever. No, my date is over there,” he added, pointing to the entrance.
I looked over and saw Becky nervously standing at the door, dressed in a long pleated skirt, pale pink sweater, and long white socks with loafers.
My heart sank to the floor. I felt sick.
“I’ve given her a little makeover,” Trevor bragged. “And that’s not all, baby.”
“If you touch her, I’ll kill you!” I screamed, lunging for him.
“I haven’t touched her, yet. But there’s time. The dance has just begun.”
“Raven, what’s going on?” Alexander demanded, turning me toward him.
Trevor signaled for Becky to come over. She didn’t even look at me as she approached us. Trevor grabbed her hand and kissed her softly on the cheek. I cringed all over and felt nauseated.
“Get off her!” I grabbed her hand and tried to pull her away.
“Raven, is this the guy who’s been hassling you?” Alexander asked.
“You mean he doesn’t know me? He doesn’t know about us?” Trevor asked proudly.
“There is no ‘us’!” I tried to explain. “I pissed him off because I’m the only girl in school who doesn’t think he’s hot! So now he won’t leave me alone. But Trevor, how dare you involve Becky and Alexander!”
Becky stood with her eyes glued to the floor.
“I think it’s time to leave Raven alone, dude,” Alexander said.
“Dude? Now I’m the freakoid’s pal? We can hang out and play soccer? Sorry but there’s a dress code. No fangs and capes. Go back to the cemetery.”
“Trevor, enough! I’ll kick you right now!” I threatened.
“It’s okay, Raven,” Alexander said. “Let’s go dance.”
“Becky, get away from him!” I yelled, not moving. “Becky, say something! Say something already!”
“She’s already said something,” Trevor announced. “She’s said a lot. It’s funny how the people in this town talk and can’t shut up when their daddy’s crops might suddenly catch fire from a dropped cigarette,” Trevor said, looking straight at me.
He turned to Alexander. “You’ll learn who these rumorholics are sooner than you think!”
I looked at Becky, who was staring at her loafers. “I’m sorry, Raven. I tried to warn you not to come here tonight.”
“What’s he talking about?” Alexander wondered.
“Let’s go,” I said.
“I’m talking about vampires!” Trevor declared.
“Vampires!” Alexander exclaimed.
“Shut up, Trevor!”
“I’m talking about gossip!”
“What gossip?” Alexander said. “I came here to be with my girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend?” Trevor asked, surprised. “Then it’s official. Are you going to spend all of eternity together?”
“Be quiet!” I ordered.
“Tell him why you broke into his house! Tell him what you saw.”
“We’re outta here!” I said, starting to go. But Alexander didn’t move.
“Tell him why you threw yourself at him,” Trevor continued.
“Don’t say another word, Trevor!”
“Tell him why you went to the cemetery!”
“I said, ‘Shut up!’”
“And why you fainted.”
“Shut up!”
“And why you look at yourself in the mirror every hour!”
“What’s he talking about?” Alexander demanded.
“And tell him about this,” he said, thrusting the Polaroids of my bite mark at Alexander.
Alexander grabbed the picture and examined it. “What’s this?”
“She used you,” Trevor said. “I started a rumor that snowballed. I had everyone in town believing you were a vampire. The funny thing is, your dear, sweet Raven believed the rumors more than anyone!”
“Shut up!” I screamed and threw my melting snow cone in Trevor’s face.
Trevor laughed as the cherry ice dripped down his cheeks. Alexander stared at the picture.
“What’s going on?” Mr. Harris asked, running over.
Alexander looked at me in disbelief and confusion. He glanced around helplessly as the gawking crowd waited for his reaction. Then he angrily grabbed my hand and pulled me outside. We left the falling snow and went out into drizzling rain.
/>
“Wait!” Becky shouted, running after us.
“What’s going on, Raven?” Alexander demanded, ignoring her. “How does he know you snuck into my house? How does he know about the cemetery? How does he know you fainted? And what’s this?” he asked, shoving the Polaroid at me.
“Alexander, you don’t understand.”
“You never told me why you snuck into my house,” he said.
I stared at his lonely, deep, soulful eyes. His innocence. His sense of not belonging. What could I say? I couldn’t lie. So I said nothing and just hugged him with all my might.
The photo dropped from his hand. And he pushed me away.
“I want to hear it from you,” he demanded.
Tears started to well up. “I went there to disprove the rumors. I wanted to put an end to them! So your family could live in peace.”
“So I was just a ghost story to you, that you had to check out?”
“No! No! Becky, tell him it wasn’t like that!”
“It wasn’t!” Becky exclaimed. “She talks about you all the time!”
“I thought you were different, Raven. But you used me. You’re just like everyone else.”
Alexander turned away and I grabbed his arm.
“Don’t go! Alexander!” I begged. “It’s true, I was caught up in the rumors, but when I first saw you, I knew. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. That’s why I did everything else!”
“I thought you liked me for just being myself—not for who you think I might be. Or for something you think you wanted to become.”
He ran away.
“Don’t go!” I cried. “Alexander—”
But he ignored me. He was gone, back to the solitude of his attic room.
I stormed into the gym. The band was on break, and everyone looked at me in silence as I crossed the floor.
“The end,” Trevor announced and started clapping. “The end! And what a wonderful production it all was, if I do say so myself.”
“You!” I yelled. Mr. Harris could see I was going for blood and grabbed me from behind. “You are evil incarnate, Trevor!” I screamed, my arms flailing as I tried unsuccessfully to wriggle out of the soccer coach’s grasp. “Trevor Mitchell, you are the monster!” I looked at the faces around me. “Can’t you see that? You all pushed away the most giving, lovable, gentle, intelligent person in this town while accepting the wickedest, vilest, most evil monster, just because he dresses like you! Trevor’s the one who’s destroying lives! And you just watch him play soccer and party with him while you cast out an angel because he wears black and is home-schooled!”
Tears streamed down my face, and I ran outside.
Becky ran after me. “I’m sorry, Raven. I’m sorry!” she shouted.
I ignored her and ran all the way to the Mansion, struggling over the slippery gate. Huge moths fluttered around the porch light as I banged the serpent knocker. “Alexander, open up! Alexander, open up!”
Eventually the light went out and the disappointed moths flew away. I sat on the doorstep crying. For the first time in my life I found no comfort in darkness.
20
Game Over
I cried all night and stayed home from school the next day. At noon I ran to the Mansion. I shook the gate until I thought it would fall over. Finally I climbed over and banged the serpent knocker. The attic curtains ruffled, but no one answered.
Back home I called the Mansion and spoke to Jameson, who said Alexander was asleep. “I’ll tell him you rang,” he said.
“Please tell him I’m sorry!”
I was afraid Jameson hated me as much as Alexander.
I called every hour; each time Jameson and I had the same conversation.
“I’m going to be home-schooled from now on!” I yelled when my mother tried to get me out of bed the next morning. Alexander wasn’t taking my calls, and I wasn’t taking Becky’s. “I’m never going back to school!”
“You’ll get over this, dear.”
“Would you have gotten over Dad? Alexander’s the only person in the universe who understands me! And I messed it all up!”
“No, Trevor Mitchell messed it up. You were nice to that young man. He’s lucky to have you.”
“You think so?” I started to cry mansion-sized tears. “I think I ruined his life!”
My mom sat on the edge of my bed. “He adores you, honey,” she comforted, hugging me like I was a crying Billy Boy. I could smell the apricots in her shampooed velvet-chestnut hair and the sweet soft scent of her perfume. I needed my mom now. I needed her to tell me everything would be all right. “I could see how much he adored you when he came to the house,” she continued. “It’s a shame people talk about him the way they do.”
“You were one of those people,” I sighed. “And I guess I was, too.”
“No, you weren’t. You liked him for who he really was.”
“I did—I mean, do. I really do. But it’s too late now.”
“It’s never too late. But speaking of late, I’m late! I have to take your father to the airport.”
“Call school,” I called to her at the door. “Tell them I’m lovesick.”
I pulled the covers over my head. I couldn’t move until night. I had to see my Alexander, to shake some sense into his pale body. To beg his forgiveness. I couldn’t go to the Mansion, and I couldn’t break in—he might call the cops this time. There was only one place to go—one other place where he might be.
I climbed into Dullsville’s cemetery with a bouquet of daffodils in my backpack. I walked quickly among the tombstones, trying to retrace the steps we had once taken together. I was as excited as I was nervous. I imagined him waiting for me, running up to me, and giving me a huge hug and showering me with kisses.
But then I thought, Will he forgive me? Was this our first fight—or our last?
Eventually I found his grandma’s monument, but Alexander wasn’t there.
I laid the flowers on the grave. My belly hurt, like it was caving in.
Tears started welling up in my eyes.
“Grandma,” I said out loud, looking around. But who could hear me? I could shout if I wanted to. “Grandma, I messed up, messed up big time. There is no one in this world more wild about your grandson than I am. Could you please help me? I miss him so much! Alexander believes I think he’s so different, and I do think he’s different—but from other people, not from me. I love him. Could you help me?”
I waited, looking for a sign, something magical, a miracle—bats flying overhead or a loud thunderclap. Anything. But there was only the sound of crickets. Maybe it takes a little bit longer for miracles and signs. I could only hope.
One day of being lovesick turned into two days, which turned into three and four.
“You can’t make me go to school!” I shouted every morning and turned over and went back to sleep.
Jameson continued to tell me Alexander couldn’t come to the phone. “He needs time,” Jameson offered. “Please be patient.”
Patient? How could I be patient when every second of our separation felt like an eternity?
Saturday morning I had an unwelcome visitor. “I challenge you to a duel!” my father said, throwing his tennis racket on my bed. He opened the curtains and allowed the sun to blind me.
“Go away!”
“You need exercise.” He threw a white T-shirt and white tennis skirt onto my bed. “These are Mom’s! I didn’t think I’d find anything white in your drawers. Now let’s scoot! Court time is in half an hour.”
“But I haven’t played in years!”
“I know. That’s why I’m taking you. I want to win today,” he said and closed the door behind him.
“You think you’ll win!” I yelled through the closed door.
Dullsville’s country club was just as I remembered it from all those years ago—snobby and boring. The pro shop was filled with designer tennis skirts and socks, neon balls, and overpriced rackets. There was a four-star restaurant that charged f
ive dollars for a glass of water. I almost fit in, with my mom’s white threads, except for the black lipstick. But my father let it go. I think he was happy I was in an upright position.
I ran after my dad’s shots with a vengeance, each ball having Trevor Mitchell’s face on it. I hit the balls as hard as I could, and naturally they either crashed into the net or into the fence.
“You used to let me win,” I said after we ordered lunch.
“How can I let you win when you’re slamming every shot into the net? Swing easy and follow through.”
“I guess I’ve been hitting the ball in the wrong direction a lot lately. I never should have let Trevor get the best of me. I should never have believed the rumors, or wanted to believe them. I miss Alexander so much.”
At lunch the waiter brought me a garden salad and a tuna melt for my dad. I stared at my tomatoes, eggs, and romaine lettuce. “Dad, do you think I’ll ever meet someone like Alexander again?”
“What do you think?” he asked, taking a bite of his sandwich.
“I don’t think I will. I think he’s it. He’s the special one people only find in movies and gushy romance novels. Like Heathcliff or Romeo.”
My eyes welled up with tears.
“It’s okay, honey,” he said, handing me his napkin. “When I met your mother, I wore John Lennon glasses and had hair down to the middle of my back. I didn’t know what a pair of scissors or a razor looked like! Her father didn’t like me because of the way I looked and my radical politics. But she and I saw the world the same way. And that’s all that mattered. It was a Wednesday when I first saw your mom, on the university lawn, in maroon bell-bottoms and a white halter top, twirling her long brown hair, gazing up. I walked over and asked what she was staring at. ‘That mother bird is feeding its baby birds. Isn’t it beautiful?’ she said. ‘It’s a raven!’ And she quoted some lines from Edgar Allan Poe. I laughed. ‘What are you laughing at?’ she asked me. And I told her it was a crow, not a raven. ‘Oh, that’s what I get for partying too hard last night,’ she said, laughing with me. ‘But aren’t they beautiful just the same?’ And I told her right there and then that yes, they were. But she was more beautiful.”
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