“We’re here,” said Todd.
Jacqueline stared out the window. She heard a vibrating bass beat, deep and loud. Kids streamed from the street in ever-growing numbers. Other large groups hung out on the gigantic lawn beneath bright floodlights, wearing thick coats to stave off the burgeoning cold. A group of kids had even started up a football game, a neon-green Nerf spiraling through the darkness. Nearly everyone had red plastic cups in their hands, and almost no one wore a costume. Self-conscious, Jacqueline slid her arms around her midsection.
“This is huge,” she whispered.
“I know!” said Todd. “Impressive, right?”
She stared blankly as a boy no older than Jacqueline doubled over and barfed onto the grass. His friends quickly ushered him away.
“Where’s Drew’s parents?” Jacqueline asked.
“Colorado. His mom and dad spend the end of October and the beginning of November in Aspen.”
“Must be nice. How many people’re coming? They all from town?”
Todd shrugged. “No clue. Why?”
Because I don’t want kids from three towns over seeing me dressed like a whore, she thought. “Just curious,” she said.
“It don’t matter, Jackie.” He reached over and gently cupped her chin in his hand. He lowered his head in a serious manner. “I know what you’re worried about.”
“You do?”
“I do. You don’t see any costumes.”
She nodded.
“Well, there’s a reason for that. House rules. No costume, no admittance.” He waved toward the throng of mingling youths. “Let the morons hang out in the cold. We’ll be heading in where it’s warm.”
Todd offered her one last plastic-fanged smile before shoving open his door. He nearly sprinted around the front of the van to open Jacqueline’s door for her. The cold assaulted her immediately, raising goosebumps all over her flesh. She stepped out of the vehicle, hiding herself as best she could behind the van’s door as she straightened out her skimpy clothing. She reached behind herself with a shivering hand and fastened the clip of her handmade tail to the hidden waistband of her tights. The metal clasp was shockingly cold against her lower back.
Todd threw an arm around her and shut the door. His warmth infused her, made her stop shivering. Hundreds of eyes turned in their direction. A few catcalls rose up above the din of music and laughter.
“You ready, kitty cat?” Todd asked.
Jacqueline nodded.
They made their way up the driveway, and the crowd parted for them. The drunken leers of countless boys and the disapproving scowls of almost as many girls assaulted her from every angle. They still stepped aside for you, Jacqueline thought, forcing herself to smile.
The front porch was a fifty-foot-wide plank of concrete fronted by eight thick pillars. The double doors to the mansion swung open when they were mere feet away. A boy dressed like Freddy Krueger and a girl in a sexy nurse outfit held open the doors, nodding to Todd and Jacqueline as they entered.
The cavernous inside of the mansion was so loud that Jacqueline could barely hear her own thoughts. Everywhere she looked there were people in costume—werewolves, doctors, nurses, witches, ghosts; you name it. Thankfully, many of the girls’ outfits were nearly as revealing as hers.
The room they’d entered was as big as three of Mitzy’s house put together. The ceiling went all the way up to the roof, at least three stories, and a crystal chandelier the size of a small car dangled and glimmered. Halfway up the far wall was a balcony, and she counted the doors as Todd led her through the crush of partygoers.
Todd said something that she couldn’t hear, and she looked at him quizzically. He shouted again. When she still couldn’t make out the words she simply nodded. Todd pressed a red plastic cup into her hand and gave her a thumbs-up. He then grabbed his own cup and took a huge gulp.
Jacqueline took a sip. She’d expected something foamy and bitter, but the drink was sweet and didn’t taste like liquor at all. Warmth spread through her and her jitteriness stopped. She grinned and took another sip.
Todd again led her through the crowd, stopping every so often to pound fists with one of his friends. Someone slapped Jacqueline on the back, an unseen hand pulled at her tail, another squeezed her butt. she winced and stole a pleading look at Todd, hoping he’d noticed, but his attention was elsewhere. Everything was just overwhelming. Her heart raced and she wanted to scream. She took another large sip from her cup instead.
They crossed through another set of double doors into an adjacent hallway, and the sound of the party dulled. The crowd was thinner in here, which helped ease Jacqueline’s frazzled nerves. She still felt every inch of the lacy, barely-there lingerie, suffered the prods of the piping, but at least she could hear herself think.
“And here we are,” Todd said. He approached a door and poked his fingers into the handle. The door rolled to the side on a track. “Welcome to…Valhalla!”
Todd took his arm off Jacqueline’s shoulder and entered the room. She followed, feeling timid. The door slid shut behind her, the party’s blaring music now just a rumor behind thick walls.
There was a large fireplace with a pair of recliners in front of it, a long couch, a poker table and chairs, and the biggest flat-screen television Jacqueline had ever seen, taking up nearly an entire wall. Five people were gathered around a fully-stocked bar: an intimate gathering in the midst of a carnival. Jacqueline saw Drew standing apart from the others, drink in hand. He nodded to Todd, who returned the gesture.
Todd introduced her to his friends. There was Kurt Briggs and Yoel Martinez, fellow seniors and members of the football team, Kurt’s girlfriend Stacy, and a shorter, chubbier boy with thick mutton chops everyone called Flub. Yoel was in full zombie getup while the others were dressed as hobos, their clothing vintage and torn, their hats painted to deliberately look moldy.
“Woo-hoo!” shouted Todd as he tossed his empty cup into the crackling fireplace and scrambled behind the bar. “Enough of that shit. Let’s do the real stuff!”
He laid small glasses out on bar, filling them to the brim with vodka. Everyone but Jacqueline and Drew grabbed a drink, tossed it back, and then chanted for more. Todd obliged them. Jacqueline nervously chomped her lip.
“What you doing?” Drew said from behind her.
She turned around. The senior boy’s gaze worked her over from toes on up. He didn’t smile and his eyes were cloudy.
“Um…I talked to Hannah the other day,” Jacqueline said, trying not to seem uncomfortable.
“Good for you.”
“Where is she?”
“Other plans tonight.”
“What’s bigger than this?”
Drew saluted her with his glass. “My thoughts exactly.” He nodded and licked his lips, his neck craning forward ever so slightly. He looked predatory, and Jacqueline backed away.
“Yo, kitty cat!” Todd called out. “What you doin’ over there?”
“Nothing.”
“Well, get on over here! We got some drinkin’ to do, sexy!”
Everyone slammed their fists against the bar. Jacqueline walked demurely up to them, and Todd slid a glass across the bar to her, the clear liquid sloshing over the side.
“Shoot it!” shouted Yoel.
Stacy sidled up to her, the girl’s light brown hair a mess of curls beneath her floppy hat. “Yeah, shoot it!” she said, playfully nudging with her hip.
Jacqueline sniffed the glass, grimaced, and then, when everyone began chanting, “Shoot it!” she brought it to her mouth, pinched her nose, and tipped her head back. The liquor made her gag. She slapped the glass back down on the bar and coughed. Todd slid something else toward her. She grabbed it and drank it down quickly. The liquid inside was smooth and tasted like mint.
She wiped her lips, black lipstick smearing the back of her hand. Her head swam a bit, and when she saw everyone staring at her, big stupid grins on their faces, she giggled.
“Hey, y
ou,” Todd said.
Jacqueline twisted her head, and he was right there in front of her, leaning over the bar. His lips met hers, softly at first, then more aggressive, though not in a bad way. His tongue probed her mouth. Jacqueline felt tingly all over, numb except for her lips. The tiny hairs on her arms stood on end. All sound melted away but her heartbeat. And still Todd kept kissing her, gently kneading her hair. This was what a kiss should be, not those clumsy ones she’d shared with Tyler. She felt like she might faint.
Todd pulled away and Jacqueline stood there, wobbling on her feet. She placed a hand on the bar to steady herself. Everyone whooped it up and clapped. Jacqueline’s neck flushed.
Yoel and Kurt slapped Todd on the back. Stacy threw her arm around Jacqueline. “You’re lucky,” she whispered. “Maybe your costume has something to do with it. Where’d you get it, anyway?”
Jacqueline muttered incoherently, and then laughed at herself. Stacy joined in. They both grabbed new drinks off the table and scarfed them down.
For the next hour, Jacqueline sat and listened as the boys spouted tales of gridiron glory while sucking down drink after drink, interspersing the minty beverages with the occasional shot of vodka. She kept getting drunker and drunker, and eventually all she heard was garbled nonsense.
Three times during that hour, the phone in her purse buzzed: two were text messages from Annette, one a call from Mitzy. She ignored them.
Todd sat as close to Jacqueline as humanly possible, and his palm found her thigh. Every so often, between sips, he would kiss her again, full and deep. His hands roamed, touching her all over. Jacqueline felt too gloriously lightheaded to care.
Eventually Drew joined them at the bar. He seemed distracted somehow, his laughter not as loud or boisterous as the others, but again, Jacqueline didn’t care. This boy meant nothing to her. All that mattered was Todd Sowinger and his sweet, moist lips, and the world that wouldn’t stop spinning.
“Hey,” said Yoel at one point, “Tommy Boddicker said something about going to Coppington on Halloween. Anyone know if he did it?”
“Nope,” Stacy replied. “He chickened out.”
That garnered a laugh from everyone.
“You talking about the haunted house?” asked Jacqueline, her voice slurring in her own ears.
“That’s the one,” said Drew.
“People actually go there?”
Todd laughed, squeezing her tighter. “Nah. They talk about it all the time. But everyone’s a pussy.” He re-filled his cup. “But I think we should go. Before senior year’s over. Whaddaya all say?”
Again there was laughter, but no one answered.
Jacqueline kept on drinking. She emptied another cup and put it on the bar, but for some reason the flat surface wasn’t where it was supposed to be and the cup spilled all over the floor. Jacqueline swayed in her seat, her arm crashing against two of the short glasses, knocking them over. The room spun even faster.
“Looks like someone’s had too much,” she heard Stacy say.
“That true, kitty cat?” asked Todd.
Jacqueline sloppily kissed him. Todd nibbled her lip, then glanced over her shoulder and nodded. Soon there was another drink in her hand. She hiccupped and slurped it, getting as much on Mitzy’s lingerie as she did in her mouth. Todd laughed, though it seemed he was the only one who did.
She glanced behind the bar to ask Flub for another, but he was gone. She swung her head to the side, the room revolving, her vision doubling. Something wet slobbered her neck. Jacqueline shoved herself away, stumbling, unable to keep her balance. Strong hands grabbed her, kept her from falling.
Concerned faces stared at her. Drew told everyone to get out, that there was nothing to see. To Jacqueline his voice sounded murky, the syllables not matching up. “Not in here,” she heard him say after everyone other than Todd had left.
“I know,” Todd replied. “Flubby’s setting things up in the guest room.”
“Good.”
Drew nodded and left.
Todd spun Jacqueline around and handed her another drink. He guided her hand to her face, tilting the cup back. “There you go,” he said. “Just a little more.” When the liquid dribbled over her chin, he pulled it away. “Okay, looks like that’s enough.”
Everything became a blur after that. Todd picked her up, and she bobbed like she was on a stranded ferry in the middle of the sea, only this sea was made up of noisy, thrashing people. The music came back tenfold, thudding in her ears, pulsing in her stomach. She gagged. A hand stroked her forehead.
There came a vague sensation of moving upward, of leaving the chaos behind. She heard Todd whispering in her ear, but couldn’t understand his words. He carried her along a flat surface and into a brightly-lit room.
“There we go,” he said. He laid her down on a bed and kissed her forcibly. Jacqueline felt sick.
He backed away from her, and she tried to sit up. She couldn’t see straight, but knew she was in a bedroom. There were placards on the wall, a couple dressers, a vanity. Her head warbled. On the other side of the room was a black box of some kind sitting on top of three gray legs. A red light blinked at her.
She collapsed on the bed, and suddenly Jacqueline was back in her bedroom in the Gelick house, with Papa Gelick on top of her. Her lips moved, trying to form the word NO, but she couldn’t speak. Sickness churned in her gut.
“Yeah, this is awesome,” Todd said. His vampire costume became real; the painted red lines at the corner of his mouth dripped blood onto Jacqueline’s cheek.
She screamed, though no sound came out.
Vile liquid bubbled up the back of her throat as vampire Todd smirked. The vision of the Gelick house went on. She tried to latch onto the rage she’d felt then, but all she felt was terror. The world spun out of control. Help me! her mind screamed, but it was no use. Everything grew hazy, and she pitched over on her side, her world ebbing into black. By the time the sound of screaming voices reached her ears, it barely registered. She passed out.
CHAPTER 27
Jordan’s cell phone rang. He kept his hands on the steering wheel and groaned. “Can you get that?”
Sitting beside him, Andrea picked up the phone. “Hello?” she said. “Yeah, we’re going to check. Don’t worry. Listen, we’ll call you if anything’s wrong.”
Andrea hung up.
“Was it her again?” Jordan asked. “Annette?”
“Yup.”
He sighed. Should’ve never given her my number.
It was the eighth time she’d called that night, and she’d texted him at least twelve others. She’d been persistent he go check on Jacqueline as soon as he could, and he’d promised her he’d get on it when his shift at the Hartford food bank was over. The panic in her voice caused his concern to rise. His grip on the steering wheel tightened and he glanced at the clock. It was nine-thirty. He was beginning to get a very bad feeling about all this, no matter how much he tried to tell himself that it was a huge overreaction.
Andrea nudged him. “Your knuckles are white,” she said.
He relaxed his hands and breathed deeply.
“You think something bad might be going down?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “Try Drew again.”
She did, the phone sitting in her lap on speaker, the sound of ringing rising above the grind of tires on pavement. A slurring voice answered, but Jordan could barely make out what it was saying over the raucous, static-like beats blaring in the background. “Drew!” he shouted, trying to make himself heard over the noise. “Drew, I need to talk to you.”
The voice uttered a few nonsensical phrases, and the conversation ended.
“Dude, he’s wasted,” said Andrea.
“That’s a Cottard house party for you. It’s why I don’t go anymore.”
“I thought Phoebe had something to do with that?”
“Something. Not everything.”
He stopped at a red light, adjusted his sitting position, and took off
again when it turned green. The Saturday evening traffic was relatively light as they pulled through the center of Mercy Hills, though the mall parking lot was packed. At the light for Highland, he took a left. A line of cars blocked the road halfway up the hill.
“What the heck?” said Andrea.
“Welcome to Party Central,” Jordan said.
“There’s so many people down here. We’re a half-mile from his house. Is there another party going on?”
“Nope. This is all for Drew.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “These parties get huge. Drew invites people from all around. Somers, Stafford, Windsor Locks, Suffield, you name it. They all show up. It’s crazy. And it makes parking, well, hard.”
Andrea chuckled in apparent disgust while Jordan tried to get the cars up ahead to move. A Jeep pulled up onto the lawn of a McMansion and spun its tires, shredding grass. Andrea frowned. “This is so unfair,” she said. “I mean, look at it! Why don’t the neighbors complain? When my brother threw a party a couple years back, the cops were there in a heartbeat. And he only had like fifteen people show up. He got arrested.” She swept out her hand, palm bladed. “Y’know?”
“That’s the Mills,” said Jordan. “There’s different rules in Highland.”
“No kidding.”
They moved at a crawl for ten minutes until Jordan couldn’t take it anymore. He got out of the car, telling Andrea to get behind the wheel. He then marched along the line of stopped vehicles until he reached the front, where the driver of the first car was busy shouting with someone on foot. The path ahead was clear. Jordan threw back his shoulders and screamed at the arguers, trying to be as threatening as he possibly could. The driver of the car, a punk with a shaved head and a Patriots jersey, gave him a sneer and muttered a racial slur before taking off. Traffic began moving again. Jordan clenched his fists.
Andrea slid over for him when she pulled up. “That was quick,” she said.
Boy in the Mirror Page 17
