Well, it was all moot now anyway because tonight was HALLOWEEN! Hurray! Of course, I’m exactly two months until dip-crap death comes for me. Boo-hiss (Boo—get it? Yeah, I’m lame). Tonight, Katrina Zale hosts her annual Halloween Masque. Yeah, I received an invite from the queen herself. Imagine my shock when she shoved the bat-shaped invitation into my hands after classes yesterday. Apparently, Trey and I were the only Normals invited. Naturally, I didn’t have time to get a costume, so I’ll be going as me. Thrilling. Since the Ravenflames loathe me, I reckon they’ll find my non-costume sufficiently scary or terribly offensive. Either way worked for me.
“MARINA! Trey’s here!” called my mom. Trey and my mom seemed to be getting along really well by the time I walked into the living room. “About time,” she said reprovingly.
“Hey, ready for this party?” Trey looked hot in his white shirt and blue jeans.
“Think so. A night with the Ravenflames…should be interesting.”
“You two have fun. Marina, remember curfew.”
“Completely curfew conscious. Bye, Mom!”
“Night, Mrs. Valentine!” When Trey and I climbed into his jeep, he quipped, “Wait until you see Katrina’s house.”
“What? Is it covered in poison thorns and gargoyles?”
“Not exactly,” he said, winking.
“I feel bad Polly and Meikle didn’t get invited.”
“Don’t. Polly’s avoiding partying demon souls by hiding under the covers until tomorrow, and Meikle’s trying to unlock a portal to the other side of the blue crest, whatever that means,” said Trey, rolling his eyes.
After about twenty minutes of coastal driving, we finally reached Trinity Lane, a gated road guarded by two burly Ravenflame security officers.
“Invitations,” said the burlier of the two. Trey handed him our invites, but after carefully inspecting them—even scratching at the seals—the guard muttered, “Wait here.”
“Where can we go? There’s a gate blocking us,” Trey said.
The guard grudgingly returned to the security booth to call the main house. “Yeah, Miss Zale, I have two Normals here named—yes, that’s them, so should I—as you wish, Miss Zale.” Returning with our invitations, he said, “Drive up the road, give the parking attendant your keys, and hand the invitations to the butler. Can you remember that, Normal?”
“Oh, wow, I dunno. Maybe I should write it down,” said Trey.
The guard looked beyond homicidal.
“Just go,” I urged. “Guess that would be our first monster encounter tonight.”
“Good as,” said Trey, carefully maneuvering his jeep along the winding road.
Another ten minutes and we reached Katrina Zale’s mammoth castle with its lonely towers and turrets. Instead of ivy-covered walls, seaweed blanketed every tower and arch. Rather than gargoyles, a bevy of vicious-looking stone mermaids, sharks, and squid lurked in the shadows.
“Weird, huh?”
“I’ll trade you a creepy and raise you a disturbing.” I imagine the castle could be beautiful, and it probably was at some point, but now it looked cold and uninviting.
After leaving his jeep with the clumsy parking attendant, Trey and I approached the intimidating double front doors.
“Doorbell or knocker?” asked Trey.
“Aw, let’s be wild. Go with the doorbell.” When Trey pushed the seahorse-framed bell, my jaw dropped: their doorbell sounded like seagulls suffering a massive slaughtering.
Two seconds later, the door opened and an eerie Ravenflame butler appeared. “Have you the invitations?” he asked with a measuring eye.
Trey silently shoved his invite into the butler’s vein-covered hands.
“Here ya go,” I said cheerily, handing him my invitation. “That’s one sinister doorbell you’ve got. It’s a great touch for Halloween. Where’d you get it?”
Eerie-butler-man can definitely deliver an effective Halloween glare. “That is the standard doorbell.”
“Oh. I just assumed it was for Halloween. I mean, the sound of slaughtered seagulls doesn’t exactly scream Ho, ho, ho, or Hip-hop-hooray, Easter’s on its way.” He was so totally appalled by my bluntness.
“How about you tell us where the party is,” said Trey.
“Through the doors at the end of the hall, in the ballroom,” he said.
“Thanks,” said Trey out of the corner of his mouth.
We walked hand-in-hand down the dank hallway. Locked doors seemed to watch us, whispering inaudible warnings as we passed.
“You okay?” asked Trey after I shuddered.
“I’m just all goose-bumpy,” I said warily.
“You’ll be fine…I’ve got you. And I’ve got my lucky charm to protect us both.”
“Aw, your silver owl charm,” I said, giggling.
“Yep. Never leave home without it.”
“Better than a credit card. I can’t believe you don’t sense anything. You’re all laid back, and I’m totally wiggy about something happening tonight.”
“You mean like me suddenly kissing you?”
And so he did.
“Caution, Normals approaching,” said a cowboy-clad Benji, opening the French doors to a lavishly decorated ballroom. “Unwelcome to the party.”
“You know, if I wanted to listen to an asshole, I would’ve succumbed to gas,” said Trey. I surrendered to nervous fits of laughter, snorts and all.
Benji wasn’t nearly as amused. “Welcome to hell.”
“Original,” Trey quipped.
“You mean like your costumes?” Benji countered, marching off.
Looking around the packed room, I said, “Clearly, this is strictly a Ravenflame affair. Except for booger Benji and the servers, I can’t see any other Fairhairs.”
“There’s Tombolo.”
“Where?”
“Back corner.”
“Surprised to see Troy here.” If only my stupid heart would stop racing, and I could do without that wiggly feeling in my gut that only a set of raging hormones conjures up. Note to self: Mustn’t ever give him the satisfaction of knowing the effect he has on me.
“Well, he’s probably here with the wicked witch herself,” said Trey.
“Hmm.” I forgot about Katrina. Slut.
“What’s he dressed as anyway? A cloaked goon?”
“The Phantom…from The Phantom of the Opera.”
“How stupid is that, dressing up as a scarred theater lunatic?”
“Actually, the Phantom is one of the most complex, passionate, romantic, spine-tingling characters ever created. Yes, he’s dark and a little twisted, but he’s also sad, lonely, and hurt by the way the world has treated him. He’s misunderstood. All he really wanted was love.” What am I, a student study guide?
“I don’t get the attraction you girls have with a murderous opera buff. You don’t see men getting all wobbly-kneed over some psychotic broad with a cape and mask.”
“Crab puff or crab cracker?” A server unwittingly shoved a tray of crab under my nose.
Oh, God, it smelled so bad.
“Uh, no thanks,” said Trey, looking at me worriedly. He could see me turning green.
“For you then, Miss?” she asked.
“She’s taking this whole crab thing a little too seriously…and it’s about to get really serious because I’m going to puke on her tray,” I whispered, desperately trying to control my gag reflex.
“She’s good, thanks.”
She lifted the tray closer to my nose. “Are you sure? They’re freshly caught and so tender they just melt in your mouth like mousse.”
What lovely mental imagery. Don’t gag—don’t gag—don’t…gag. Enter gagging. I sounded completely spastic, and that’s probably nothing to how I looked.
“What can I do?” Trey asked. Judging by his smirk and crinkled brow, Trey was either on the verge of unrecoverable hysterics or calling the paramedics.
“Air—GAG—outside—now.”
He took my hand, weav
ed me through the many disgusted faces, and opened the doors to the terrace.
“Was that as embarrassing as it felt?” I asked.
“That depends. How…embarrassing…did it feel…exactly?”
“Great. It was that bad. I hate fish.”
“Maybe I should call you Gaggles instead of Squiggle.”
“Does a well-placed knee mean anything to you?”
“Got it. No Gaggles. Hey, Marina?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you ever look at us and think maybe we do better…”
“As friends?”
Trey nodded. “You feel the same, don’t you?”
“Sometimes best friends are just meant to be best friends, no pass go, no benefits.”
“Oh, well, I don’t agree about the benefits part.”
“TREY!”
“Kidding, kidding…kind of. How about some punch?”
“I’m thinking yes,” I said, fanning my face with my hand.
“Be right back. Don’t go anywhere, and for God’s sake stay away from the crab puff girl,” he said, squeezing my hand before leaving me alone on the mammoth terrace.
I waited and waited as the ticks and tocks clicked on.
“You’re not right back,” I muttered after too much time had passed. Trey would never leave me alone this long, and my tummy started embracing nervous waves of ick—never a good sign. “Okay, that’s it. I’m coming to find you, Trey.”
I headed for the terrace doors, but stopped cold when I heard Benji and Troy in a heated discussion just inside the ballroom.
“You know what people are saying,” said Benji. “She’s not one of us, and Katrina would kill her if she even suspected you might have a connection.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Troy grumbled.
“You know damn well what I’m talking about,” said Benji. “You’re falling for Marina Valentine.”
GASP! Falling? For me?
“Don’t be ridiculous, Benji.”
“I’m not the ridiculous one. It can’t happen no matter how attracted you are to her. It’s not recommended for good reason.”
Nosy S.O.B.
“I have never been less connected, less attracted, or less interested in someone than I am to Marina Valentine.”
I found myself desperately searching for a quiver in his voice, a brief hesitation in his delivery, or a clearing of his throat, but there was nothing. He meant every word. My mom always says, “There’s nothing worse than kicking people when they’re down.” Well, I disagree. Kicking somebody—annihilating more like—while they’re up, happy, and hopeful hurts far more because you fall that much further and hit that much harder. At least I did learn something about Troy Tombolo tonight: two words—pompous jerk.
I emerged from the shadows, sauntered by the pair of them, and briefly glanced at Troy, giving him my best expressionless face. While avoiding the still eager crab puff girl, I continued meandering about, looking for Trey, trying to ignore the painful pounding of my heart.
“Looking for something?” said Katrina, her voice oozing venom, while two of her sleazy friends blocked my progress down the hall. Her barely-there, red lace costume matched the jewelry she always wears—apparently, her fashion sense flat-lined with her personality.
“My date. Haven’t seen him, have you?” I replied coolly.
“Fortunately, no. So, how are things going with you two? I’m always interested when two Normals hook up. It’s so…cute.”
“Girl talk? Really?”
“You’re right. I care about as much as an octo. Have you met Mitzi and Nerissa? What am I thinking? Of course you haven’t. Girls, this is our new Normal.”
“I’m not your new anything,” I said.
“Feisty, isn’t she? As you know, it’s Halloween, that magical goblin-ghoul time where people celebrate living and dying…in costume. So, tell me, Marina, why did you not at least mask your face for my costume party? I mean…way to show a lack of etiquette. Did your mother not teach you any manners?”
“Well, getting invited to a costume party with scarcely twenty-four hours notice is hardly adequate time to find a costume. Tell me, Kat, did your mother not teach you any manners?” By the ghastly shade of maroon appearing through her overly made-up cheeks, I’d say I struck a nerve.
“She did wear a costume, Katrina,” said Nerissa, who looked a lot like a stoned giraffe. “She came as herself. What could be scarier than to look like that?”
While stout, pug-like Mitzi roared with laughter, Katrina’s mouth curled into a devilish grin. “You did dress up! Applause, applause. Couldn’t have picked a more frightening look for you,” she sneered.
“Nor I for you, Kat. Tell me, does dressing like a slutty hag take practice, or are you just naturally a loose witch?” Um…did their eyes just flash red?
“I love a Normal with plastic courage. It’s so Cowardly Lion. Do you think you’re brave, Marina?” asked Katrina, drumming her blood red nails on her pointy chin.
“No doubt.”
“Good. Want to walk through my haunted room, then? It’s just here, behind this door,” she said, moving towards the first door outside of the ballroom.
“A haunted…room? Just a room?” I asked incredulously. Haunted houses I’ve heard of, but a haunted room? Yeah, not so much. “I really need to find Trey.”
“If you’re scared, then by all means…”
“I’m not scared.”
“Well, go in,” she said, opening the whispering door. “Dare you.”
Not that word again! “Fine. What do I do?”
“Walk through, then exit out the door on the opposite side of the room.”
As soon as I walked in, Katrina slammed the door shut. “Yeah, really spooky—a rubber mask and a giant plastic shark with cardboard teeth. You’re gonna have to do better than that, Kat,” I shouted after a couple of lame objects jumped out at me. “Is this all you’ve got?”
Nearing the exit, a hazy blue light caught my eye; sheer black curtains that billowed without a breeze barely concealed its glow. As I approached the curtains, I could hear distressing cries growing louder and louder. I felt drawn to the blue glimmer and desperate, terrifying moans. When I parted the curtains, a ghostly reflection stared at me from within an ornate porthole mounted on the wall, only it wasn’t my face looking back at me—it was that of a girl, silently screaming. Her espresso skin was pale and chalky, her violet eyes wide with terror. Directly above her image, a blood-red stone glistened from within the frame, like the eye of the devil. Soon, more faces joined her, but they were partially obscured by foggy wisps. They kept floating around, fading in and out of focus, restlessly looking over their shoulders, as though something or someone tried to pull them away from me. Their eyes pleaded for help, while their muffled screams filled my ears with static I wished I could comprehend.
“What do you want?” I asked, placing a hand on the porthole.
Misty gray claws shot out from inside the porthole, grabbed my shoulders, and pulled me against the ice-cold glass.
“I am you…you will be me,” they whispered in my ear.
My strength waned. Pure panic filled my mind, and my last shred of sanity rapidly vanished. The terror was so loud in my head, I couldn’t hear my screams. Just when I thought I would melt through the glass, strong, warm arms lifted me off the ground. Soon, the blue light faded from sight, and I felt the cushion of a chair underneath me. I heard the laughter of partygoers in the distance.
“Trey,” I said, feeling very dizzy.
“It’s not Trey.”
I opened my eyes and gazed in wonderment at the concerned face of Troy Tombolo.
“You? You pulled me out of that room?”
“I heard your screams,” he said. Only now did I notice he had been holding my hand. I immediately yanked my hand from his. “We need to get you home.”
“Where’s Trey?”
“I don’t know. Someone said he left.”
“He wouldn’t leave me.”
“Let me take you home,” he said, offering me his hand.
With Trey gone, I knew I had no other option. “Fine, but I don’t want you to.”
I initially ignored his attempts to help me up, but could hardly refuse when I nearly fell to the ground. He effortlessly scooped me up and carried me to his truck. I wish I could say his arms repulsed me, that the beat of his heart failed to quicken my own, and that his lips didn’t entice me after the hurtful words they spoke earlier, but I cannot. I hated myself because of it.
Neither of us spoke a word the entire way home. When he stopped in front of my house, I immediately exited his truck and ran to the front door. I wanted away from him, from his smell, from the warmth of his body…from my feelings. I wanted to sit by my bedroom window, stare at the sea, and not think about the porthole faces, Troy, or the fact that I saw Trey’s lonely jeep in Katrina’s driveway when we left, still waiting for its owner…still empty…just still.
Chapter Six
Visits With Mr. Campbell, Troy, & a Seal Pup
November: Giving thanks & wondering why
Monthly Life Caption: Confusion All the Way Around
Mood: Confused, sad, questioning
Eating: Not much (shock)
Music: The Great American Songbook (my comfort music, thanks to my great-grandfather)
November 18th: Still no sign of Trey. Trey has been missing since Halloween. I had hoped for a true Halloween night, and it didn’t disappoint. Trey was gone, and my life was suddenly crap. I’m missing everything about him: his humor, his support, his desire to make me smile. My grades have even slipped, and my mom, bless her, has avoided going all helicopter on me. Instead, she has been using every nosy administrative busybody at her disposal to learn new tidbits on Trey’s whereabouts. According to Vice Principal Smarmy, Trey’s grandfather informed the school about his grandson’s habit of wandering off on fishing excursions. Bull crap! He never, ever would have left me alone at a Ravenflame-happy party. Oh, and on top of everything, those porthole people have been haunting my dreams since Halloween, leaving me disoriented and drenched in sweat during the witching hour.
FINNED (The Merworld Water Wars) Page 5
