Hamilton, it seemed the machinations of the teenage world
were beyond him.
When Xavier arrived he was dressed as a cowboy in
faded jeans, tan boots, and a checkered shirt. He even
wore a leather cowboy hat.
“Trick or treat?” he said with a grin.
“No offense, but you don’t look anything like Batman.”
“Ain’t no need to be nasty now, ma’am,” Xavier said,
adopting a heavy Texan accent. “Are you ready to go? Our
ride’s awaitin’.”
I laughed. “You’re going to keep this up al night, aren’t
you?
“Probably,” Xavier said. “I’m driving you wild with desire,
aren’t I?” My brother coughed to remind us of his presence.
He was always uncomfortable with outward displays of
affection.
“Don’t stay out too late,” Ivy said. “We’re leaving for Black
Ridge early tomorrow morning.”
“Don’t worry,” Xavier promised. “I’l have her home by the
time the clock strikes midnight.”
Gabriel shook his head. “Must the two of you embody
every cliche in the book?”
Xavier and I looked at each other and grinned. “Yes,” we
replied.
It was a half-hour drive to the old abandoned homestead.
The black stretch of highway was dotted with the headlights
of other partygoers, and nothing but open fields surrounded
us. We were strangely elated that night. It was an odd
feeling, like the whole world belonged to the students of
Bryce Hamilton. The party marked the end of an era for us
and we had mixed feelings about it. We were al on the
cusp of graduating and shaping our futures. It was the start
of a new life and while we hoped it would be ful of promise,
we couldn’t help but feel a degree of nostalgia for al we’d
be leaving behind. Col ege life with al its associated
independence was just around the corner. Soon friendships
would be tested by distance and some relationships would
not survive.
The night sky seemed vaster than usual and a gibbous
moon drifted between wisps of cloud. As we drove, I
watched Xavier out of the corner of my eye. He looked so
at ease behind the wheel of the Chevy. His face was free of
anxiety. We were cruising now and he steered with one
hand. Moonlight fel through the window, il uminating his
face. He turned to look at me, shadows dancing across his
even features.
“What are you thinking about, babe?” he asked.
“Just that I could do so much better than a cowboy,” I
teased.
“You are real y pushing your luck tonight,” Xavier said in
mock seriousness. “I’m a cowboy on the edge!” I laughed,
not ful y understanding the reference. I could have asked
him for an explanation but al that mattered was that we
were together. So what if I missed the occasional joke? It
made what we had even more intriguing.
We swung into the winding, overgrown driveway and
fol owed a battered pickup truck ful of senior boys cal ing
themselves the “wolf pack.” I wasn’t sure what that meant,
but they were al wearing khaki bandanas and had painted
black war stripes across their chests and faces.
“Any excuse to get their shirts off,” Xavier joked.
The boys were lounging in the back of the truck,
chainsmoking and working their way through a keg. Once
the truck was parked, they let out a wolf cry and leapt out,
heading toward the house. One of them stopped to throw
up in a nearby bush. Once he’d expel ed the contents of his
stomach, he straightened up and kept right on running.
The house itself reflected the Hal oween theme. It was old
and rambling with a creaking porch that stretched across
the length of the front. The house was badly in need of a
paint job. Its original white paint was cracked and peeling,
revealing grayish weatherboards underneath and giving the
whole place an air of neglect.
Austin must have enlisted the help of his female friends
as decorating crew because the porch was brightly lit with
jacko’-lanterns and glow sticks, but the windows on the top
floor remained in darkness. There was no other form of
civilization in sight. If there were neighbors, they were too
far away to be seen. I understood now why this house had
been chosen as the party venue. We could make as much
noise as we wanted and no one would hear us. The thought
made me a little uneasy. The only thing separating the
house from the highway was a col apsing fence that had
seen better days. I could see a scarecrow propped on a
stick in the middle of the yard about a hundred meters from
where we stood. Its body was limp and its head lol ed eerily
to one side.
“That’s so spooky,” I whispered, drawing close to
Xavier’s side. “It looks so real.” He wrapped a strong arm
around me.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “It only goes after girls who don’t
appreciate their boyfriends.”
I elbowed him playful y. “That’s not even funny! Besides,
the girls think it’s healthy for us to spend some time apart.”
“Wel , I disagree.” Xavier wrapped an arm around me.
“That’s because you’re such an attention seeker!”
“Watch out, I think he can hear you … .”
Inside the house was already crowded with guests. It had
been vacant so long that the power had been disconnected
and the whole place was lit with lanterns and candles. To
the left was a sweeping staircase. It was obvious Austin’s
parents had let the house go because the stairs looked
worn and rotted through in places. Someone had put a
candle on the edge of every step and now the wax dripped
down, pooling like frosting on the wooden boards. Empty
rooms spil ed off the wide hal way. I knew drunken couples
probably occupied them, but the darkness was stil
unnerving. We made our way down the corridor, weaving
past bodies al decked in various outfits. Some had gone
al out in terms of costumes. I caught flashes of vampire
teeth, devil horns, and plenty of fake blood. Someone real y
tal and dressed as the Grim Reaper glided past us, his
face completely concealed beneath a hood. I saw Alice in
Wonderland (the zombie version), Raggedy Ann, Edward
Scissorhands, and a Hannibal Lecter-inspired mask. I
gripped Xavier’s hand tightly. I didn’t want to ruin his night,
but I found the whole scene slightly unsettling. It was like al
the characters from horror stories suddenly coming to life
around us. The only thing that took the edge off the eeriness
was the constant flow of chatter and laughter. Someone
plugged in an iPod dock and suddenly the house was fil ed
with music so loud it shook the dusty chandelier above us.
We picked our way through the crowd and found Mol y
and the girls in the living room, ensconced in a faded
tapestry club lounge. The coffee table in front of them was
already littered with shot glasses and half-empty bottles of
vodka. Mol y had stuck with her original idea and come as
Tinker Bel in a green dress, tattered at the hem, bal et flats,
and a pair of fairy wings. But she had chosen her
accessories careful y and in keeping with the spirit of
Hal oween. She wore silver chains around her wrists and
ankles, and her face and body were smeared with fake
blood and dirt. She had a plastic dagger protruding from
her chest. Even Xavier looked impressed, his raised
eyebrows indicative of his approval.
“Gothic Tinker Bel . Solid effort, Mol s,” he complimented.
We took a seat on the divan next to Madison, who, true to
her word, had turned up as a Playboy Bunny in a black
corset, fluffy tail, and a pair of white bunny ears. Her eye
makeup was already smudged so she looked as though
she had two black eyes. She downed another shot and
slammed the glass victoriously on the table.
“You two suck,” she slurred as we squeezed in next to
her. “Those costumes are the worst!”
“What’s wrong with them?” Xavier asked, sounding as if
he couldn’t care less about her opinion but was merely
asking out of politeness.
“You look like Woody from
Toy Story,
” Madison said,
suddenly unable to suppress an attack of the giggles. “And,
Beth, come on! You could’ve at least come as one of
Charlie’s Angels. There’s nothing scary about either of
you.”
“Your outfit isn’t exactly terrifying either,” Mol y said in our
defense.
“Don’t be too sure about that,” Xavier said. I smothered a
smile behind my hand. Xavier had never liked Madison
much. She drank and smoked too much and always gave
her opinion when it wasn’t wanted.
“Shuddup, Woody,” Madison drawled.
“I think maybe someone should lay off the shots for a
while,” Xavier advised.
“Don’t you have a rodeo or something to organize?”
Xavier jumped up, distracted from responding by the
entrance of his water-polo team, who made their arrival
known to everyone present by letting out a col ective and
uninterrupted war cry. I heard them greeting Xavier in the
hal .
“Hey, man!”
“Dude, what’s with the outfit?”
“Did Beth put you up to this?”
“Man, you are so whipped!” One of them straddled his
back like a chimp and tackled him playful y to the ground.
“Get off me!”
“Yee-haw!”
There were a few more hoots of laughter and the sounds
of a friendly scuffle. When Xavier surfaced he had been
stripped of everything but his jeans. His hair, which had
been smoothed back neatly when we walked in, was now
ruffled. He shrugged at me as if to say he couldn’t be held
accountable for the behavior of his crazy friends and
slipped on a fitted black T-shirt that one of the boys tossed
him.
“Are you okay, Huggie Bear?” I asked, protectively
reaching up to fix his hair. I didn’t like it when his friends
played rough. My attentiveness raised a few eyebrows
among his friends.
“Beth.” Xavier put his hand on my shoulder. “You have got
to stop cal ing me that in public.”
“Sorry,” I said sheepishly.
Xavier laughed. “Come on, let’s get something to drink.”
After grabbing a beer for Xavier and soda for me, we
headed out to the back porch and settled down on a deep
sofa that someone had dragged out. Pink-and-green paper
lanterns hung from the eaves, casting the withered yard in a
soft light. Beyond it, the fields stretched out to the edge of
the dense, black woodland.
Aside from the rowdy antics of the partygoers inside, the
night was stil and tranquil. A rusty tractor stood abandoned
in the high grass. I was just thinking how picturesque it
looked, like a painting from a forgotten time, when a lacy
undergarment floated out of the side window coming to
land at our feet. I blushed deeply as I realized there was a
couple inside and they weren’t engaged in deep and
meaningful conversation. I quickly averted my gaze and
tried to imagine what the old house might have been like in
the days before the Knox family let it fal to rack and ruin. It
would have been grand and beautiful back in the day when
girls stil had chaperones and dancing consisted of a
graceful waltz played on a grand piano, nothing like the
gyrating and thrusting going on inside right now. Social
gatherings would have been stylish and tame compared to
the havoc being wreaked upon the old house tonight. I
imagined a man in coattails bowing before a woman in a
flowing dress on this very same porch, although in my
imagination it was polished and new and honeysuckle
wound around the quaint posts. In my mind’s eye I saw a
star-studded night sky, the double doors flung open so the
sound of music trickled out into the night.
“Hal oween sucks.” Ben Carter from my literature class
broke through my reverie as he flopped down beside us. I
would have answered him, but Xavier’s strong arm
encircled me and made it difficult for me to concentrate on
anything else. Out of the corner of my eye I could see his
hand hanging loosely over my shoulder. I liked seeing the
silver faith ring on him—it was a sign that he was taken,
unavailable to anyone but me. It seemed oddly out of place
on an eighteen-year-old boy so beautiful and so popular.
Anyone else seeing him for the first time would take one
look at his perfect form, his cool turquoise gaze, that