A Girl Called Dust

by V. B. Marlowe

“What do you think it meant when you saw the color around her, Arden? That meant something was going to happen to her. I tried to warn her, but she wouldn’t listen. Nobody listens to me.”

  Yeah, because they think you’re crazy. “What are you talking about, Fletcher? I’m going to stop talking to you if you don’t start answering my questions.”

  “It’s not my fault nobody’s teaching you.”

  “Teaching me what?”

  Fletcher gathered the trash from his lunch as the bell rang. “How to be what you’re supposed to be.”

  Sure. That was a clear answer.

  My birthday was quiet as usual. I actually hated my birthdays. Dad was never there, but he always bought me a cool gift when he came home from his business trips. Mom always moped around and cried. I hadn’t understood before, but now I got it. I used to think she hated the fact I had been born, but she was really sad because she was missing her real daughter.

  I never had parties like my sisters. I didn’t want one, and no one ever seemed in the mood to throw me one. Mom would get a chocolate cake that everyone would eat but me. I’d watch them down a slice while I snacked on olives. I’d open my presents, tell everyone thank you, and that would be that.

  That morning Mom lay across the couch in the living room bawling her eyes out. She tried to stop once she’d noticed me on the stairs, but it was too late.

  Just when I was about to apologize for not being the right daughter, she jumped up from the couch. “I’m sorry, honey. I’m okay. I was just thinking about some things. Happy birthday.”

  “Thanks.”

  She headed for the kitchen, wiping her face. “I’ll make you anything you want for breakfast.”

  That was a tradition. Birthday breakfast—you could have whatever you wanted. Quinn always asked for heart-shaped pancakes with chocolate chips and sprinkles. Paige’s yearly request was a giant cinnamon bun with her name written in icing. I, the odd one, wanted nothing as sweet and sinful as that.

  “I want to eat beef jerky without you complaining about it.”

  Mom sighed. “Okay. Beef jerky it is.”

  I couldn’t help but notice the look of disappointment that crept along her face. Her real daughter was probably somewhere asking for something normal like strawberry waffles with whipped cream.

  Grandma came over that evening, and my family watched me open gifts while they ate ice cream and cake. Grandma had given me a new sewing kit. Mom gave me a gift card for the local mall. She was probably hoping I would spend it on normal clothes, but I’d be using it in the fabric shop. My sisters had pooled their money together and bought me a really nice silver bracelet with a charm that read BIG SISTER. That was surprisingly sweet of them. A lump rose in my throat. Tears almost fell, but I held them in. Crying would have been too embarrassing. Maybe things would actually get better between the three of us.

  My birthday came and passed like it always did—quiet and solemn with anticipation, like everyone was waiting for a bomb to explode.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Being a princess-vampire was my Bailey-approved Halloween costume. I used a dress I had made for special occasions. The floor-length dress was made of white lace with a bodice covered in silver sequins. I’d sewed a hoop into the waist so that the dressed puffed out. With a large satin bow on the back and long, billowy sleeves, the dress was very Victorian. I’d borrowed Quinn’s tiara and added squirts of fake blood to my dress and face. Standing in front of the mirror, I piled the front part of my hair into a bun and let the rest hang loose. Then I added a final trickle of blood beginning from the right corner of my mouth and ending at my chin.

  Bailey picked me up at a quarter to eight. “You look great. That dress is seriously gorge.”

  “Thanks. I made it myself.”

  Her mouth gaped open. “Shut up!”

  I blushed because I thought the dress was my best creation yet. I named her Persephone.

  Bailey wore a standard nurse’s outfit, not a sexy nurse, just a plain old nurse. She looked like she was dressed for a Career Day presentation at school, but I knew Bailey. The nurse’s costume had only been a cover to get her out of the house. When we got to Trista’s, she would change into her real costume, which she was keeping secret from me.

  The Pimentels lived in the best part of town. Trista’s house was so huge that it was the only house on Anderson Avenue, which everyone called Pimentel Street. I assumed the luxurious home, perfect for party throwing, was one of the reasons Lacey had chosen Trista for her hive.

  As we turned onto Pimentel Street, we were met with two long rows of cars parked on either side of the road. The huge Mediterranean-style home sat a little way in the distance.

  Bailey pulled up behind an older-model Mercedes and threw the car into park. “Good. We’re far enough away that no one will see me change.” She started to unbutton the top of her nurse’s uniform. “Close your eyes until I’m done.”

  I groaned. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes. I don’t want you to see until I’m ready. Just turn that way,” she said as she pointed to the window on my side.

  Reluctantly, I turned my body toward the door and stared out the window. Bailey kept talking as she changed. “I know this isn’t the crowd you’re used to hanging out with, but just relax, follow my lead, and everything will be cool. Who knows? You might even meet a cute boy. You look great. Anyways, you should probably steer clear of Lacey, Marley, and Trista, but other than that, just have fun.”

  Why did I feel like some alien she was trying to teach to be Human?

  “You’re not going to ditch me as soon as we get in there, are you?” I hadn’t meant to sound nervous, but I did. “I’m not friends with any of these people, Bailey.” I suddenly wished I had stayed home. What had I been thinking? Fletcher was right, but then Mom’s words kept echoing in my mind—Just be normal. A teenager going to a Halloween party with her friend was a completely normal thing to do, and Mom looked so happy when she learned I was going to the party with Bailey. It was a pleasant contrast to the tears she had shed the day before. Besides, if I wanted Bailey and I to be friends the way we used to be, I couldn’t stay holed up in the basement making dresses. I needed to get out of my box and do normal teenager things.

  My mind wandered as Bailey rambled off party dos and don’ts. I totally should have been listening because I had no idea what to do besides be completely awkward.

  The driver’s door popped open. “Okay, you can look now,” Bailey announced.

  I turned to check out her costume, and my eyes must have bulged out of my head. “Whoa.”

  Bailey stood outside of the car with her hands on her hips. “I’m a sexy lumberjill.”

  Yes, she was. Bailey wore a long-sleeved red, black, and green flannel shirt that stopped just below her boobs, which were larger than I remembered. The black dress she’d put on at our fake sleepover was nothing compared to that. She was practically naked, while every inch of me from the neck down was covered.

  I looked her up and down. Why had Bailey hit a growth spurt but not me? Where were my curves? The midriff top revealed a perfectly tan and toned tummy, while mine would have been pale, with my ribs visible. She wore black suspenders and a pair of tiny denim shorts that barely covered her ass as she spun for me to check her out.

  “So, what do you think?”

  “Uh, you look . . . hot.” That wasn’t a lie.

  “It’ll look even better when Trent gets here. Did I tell you he was coming by later? He’s coming as a lumberjack.” Great. That meant she would definitely be ditching me . . . for Trent . . . again.

  After Bailey grabbed a plastic axe from the trunk, we headed toward the house. Parked right in front of the tall wrought-iron gate was Wiley’s pick up. About twenty kids stood at the gate at the bottom of the hill, checking out each other’s costumes.

  Mary-Kate was dressed as Cat Woman. Her black hair was slicked back into its usual ponytail, and the skin-tight black plastic cat suit look
ed great on her.

  She yelled something at Wiley that I couldn’t hear because he was revving his engine. Finally, he stopped.

  “Do you have any idea how huge your carbon footprint is going to be, Bruce Wiley?” Mary-Kate demanded. “Think about how much exhaust you’re producing!”

  I’m sure that’s the last thing Wiley was worried about.

  He leaned out of his car, snickering at her playfully, and I vaguely remembered the hopeless crush he’d had on her since elementary school. Was that still going on? Then I pushed the thoughts away and ignored that tiny tinge of jealousy. What difference should it make to me? Wiley had been a complete jerk the one time I’d given him the time of day, so why should I be concerned with who he was crushing on?

  Everyone stopped to admire our costumes, but mostly Bailey’s, which was to be expected. Wiley, however, focused his childlike attention span on me. “Dust, look at you. Blood is sexy. Let me guess. You’re the queen of the vampires.”

  I adjusted my tiara to make sure it was straight. “Actually I’m a vampire princess.”

  He grinned at me, and I tried really hard not to think he was cute. “If you’re gonna go, go big. Why be the princess when you can be the queen?”

  I was just about to explain to him that I was wearing a tiara and not a crown, so I couldn’t be a queen, when Ranson came running up with his girlfriend of the week who had simply worn her cheerleading uniform. Lazy. Ranson, however, was dressed as a vampire, and I regretted my costume immediately.

  Wiley and Ranson exchanged stupid-boy catchphrases. Wiley started revving his engine again, which prompted everyone to go inside.

  We trudged up the Pimentels’ inclined driveway toward the palace. Beats from the blaring music pulsed under my feet. I felt slightly sorry for the girls wearing heels, because the trek up the driveway wouldn’t be easy.

  The Pimentels’ front yard looked like a small rainforest filled with exotic plants and a fountain in the middle, where two large lions spouted water.

  Magnificent stone pillars held up the front of the house. We passed the garage, which could easily hold six cars, and made our way to the huge golden double doors.

  “What do her parents do?” I whispered to Bailey, who was already checking herself out in her compact mirror.

  “Her mom’s a heart surgeon and her dad’s a software developer or something boring that makes a lot of money.”

  I found that hard to believe since Trista was so . . . well, stupid.

  Inside, the most magnificent Halloween party I had ever seen was in full swing. The sliding glass doors gave me a view of the massive back yard, where a band was set up on a stage playing away. Lacey stood on one side of the stage swaying back and forth as if she were their background singer or something. Total groupie. She also had the nerve to be dressed as an angel despite her propensity for evil. To be fair, she was dressed more like a Victoria’s Secret angel than a heavenly one.

  Of course she would be standing on the stage. The queen had to stand high and look over the party to keep tabs on what everyone was doing.

  “I’ll get us something to drink,” Bailey said. “Wait here.” She wove her way through a tight group of people talking and disappeared. I hoped she would come back soon so I wouldn’t look like a loser standing alone.

  The Pimentels had gone all out on the décor. Creepy spider webs dangled from the ceiling. Coffins were propped up in corners. Skeletons popped out of them every few seconds, laughing wickedly. Expertly carved jack-o-lanterns cast an eerie glow throughout the room. Bats and ghastly witches soared back and forth on wires. I had never seen anything like it.

  I stood beside the grand piano trying not to look lost and awkward as the others we had walked in with melted effortlessly into the crowd with no problems. Everyone greeted each other and admired costumes. They belonged there, not me. I realized then that I was royally screwed because I rode with Bailey and she’d probably want to stay until the end.

  Marley and Trista moved through the room gracefully as if they were joined at the hip. They wore matching sexy bunny costumes, but Marley’s was white and Trista’s was black. As usual, they didn’t notice me, but still I turned away from them, trying not to make eye contact.

  One of the jack-o-lanterns could tip over and cause a fire

  Someone could choke on the mini hot dogs wrapped in croissants that looked like mummies

  A lunatic could have poisoned the fruit punch in the witch’s cauldron

  Thankfully Bailey returned a minute later with a red plastic cup filled with something brown.

  “There are so many ways to die in this room,” I muttered.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” I took the cup from her. “What is this?”

  “Coke with a kick. Drink up. It’s goooood.” She took a huge gulp from her cup and then stared outside. “Ugh. I have to go speak to Lacey. I’ll just be a couple of minutes.”

  I nodded because what could I say? Bailey wasn’t my babysitter. It wasn’t her job to hang out with me all night.

  Although Bailey had made talking to Lacey sound like a chore, outside the two of them were on stage jumping up and down looking as if they were having the time of their lives. Lacey gestured toward Bailey’s body, grinning. She seemed to be loving the costume, and Bailey looked pleased with herself.

  I found an empty spot on a couch that lined the wall of the living room. The couch was huge and looked like it had sixteen parts. A football game played on the big-screen TV that no one was watching.

  I’d almost forgotten about the drink Bailey had given me. I took a tiny sip and winced. Whatever it was, it was bitter and strong, but I could taste a little sweetness from the Coke. It wasn’t great, but I could drink it if I had to.

  I sat on the couch for about twenty minutes pretending to be into the football game while conversations took place around me. I could try to join one, but I wasn’t sure what to say. My mind had drifted to Fletcher and what he was doing or how I could have been at home right then working on a dress when Mary-Kate rescued me.

  She’d taken off her mask to reveal her always-present serious look. “Arden, tell me you play pool. We’re doing a boys-against-girls tournament, and we need one more girl. Everyone else is too busy,” she gestured around the room, “you know.”

  I did know. People were either dancing, making out, or engrossed in some deep conversation. I, on the other hand, was doing nothing but sitting there feeling as out of place as I looked.

  “Oh, I would, but I don’t play pool.” I had played pool once in my life. One of Dad’s friends had a table in his garage. I’d played against Quinn and lost. Quinn was only seven then, and we hadn’t played the right way, totally making up our own rules, so that definitely didn’t count.

  Mary-Kate bit her lip. “That’s okay. I can teach you real quick. It’s not that hard once you get the hang of it.”

  I wasn’t looking forward to making a fool out of myself, but playing pool would give me something to do. Mary-Kate was always so nice to me that I hated to tell her no. “Sure.”

  “Yes!” She grabbed my hand and led me up the right side of the double staircases, down the marble-tiled hallway to the game room. I wondered if Mr. and Mrs. Pimentel were around. They seemed to have no problems with a horde of rowdy teenagers having full run of their precious home.

  The game room was packed with boys yelling over the vintage arcade games while others crowded around the hand hockey tables.

  “I got next on Pac-Man,” someone shouted.

  Mary-Kate led me to the table, where the others were taking practice shots. “Give me a minute. I’m going to show Arden how to shoot.”

  A boy named Jeremiah from my Algebra II class handed me a stick-pole-thingy. He grinned at Mary-Kate, which was appropriate since he was dressed as the Joker from Batman. “Nice. You recruited a rookie. Now I know we’re definitely going to kick your ass.”

  “Yeah, we’ll see,” Mary-Kate said as she took a stick fr
om the table.

  Jeremiah flicked her ponytail, and I knew that look on his face. He was crushing on Mary-Kate, and who wouldn’t? The girl was practically perfect. Unfortunately, any boy who ventured to ask her out faced certain rejection. Rumor had it that Mary-Kate was dating some guy in England and had been for the past three years. They even sent each other letters the old-fashioned way, with stamps and envelopes and everything. She planned on going to college in England so they could be together—according to certain blabbermouths. I’d never heard Mary-Kate say a word about him, so who knew if it were really true?

  “So,” Mary-Kate began, “you take the stick, bend over like this, and slide the pole right over your thumb and index finger. Focus on the ball you want.”

  Ignoring the vulgar jokes from the boys (it was just too easy), I mimicked was she was doing. I hit a couple of balls, and although it felt weird, I wasn’t as bad as I expected myself to be. I learned that the stick-pole-thingy was actually called a cue stick and that you couldn’t hit the eight ball in until last. Once Mary-Kate thought I had the hang of it, we started the tournament. She and I were playing with two other girls named Allison and Shar, neither of whom I had too much contact with at school.

  Shar went first against a kid named Devin and won her match. Allison played Kenneth and lost. I blew my match against a kid named Harrison, but it had been close.

  “Sorry,” I muttered as I handed Mary-Kate the cue stick.

  Mary-Kate patted my shoulder. “It’s cool. I’m going to tie things up.” She played against Jeremiah and whipped him pretty badly, creating a tie. She played against Devin to break the tie and won. I wasn’t surprised because I had yet to see Mary-Kate lose at anything.

  While we gloated, Bailey poked me in the side. Her lipstick was a little smeared, and she swayed slightly from side to side like she couldn’t stand straight. I was going to ask how much she’d had to drink, but who wanted to hang out with someone who acted like their mom? She winked at me. “Nice to see you having fun.”

  “Uh, yeah, I guess I am.”