A Girl Called Dust (14 page)

Chapter Sixteen

For the next week and a half, I spent many
restless nights waiting for the winged man to come and take me, but he never
did. I sort of wanted him to come and get it over with. Living in fear was
exhausting. Maybe he thought I wasn’t good enough to be taken. Whatever. I
tried my best to put him out of my mind. There was always the possibility that
he would never come.

A week before Halloween, Trista passed out
invitations to her annual Halloween party. I wasn’t sure if Bailey was going to
come through on her promise or not, but she had been talking to me at school,
so that was something. We hadn’t hung out outside of school yet, but talking
was a start.

Fletcher had come back to school because
Principal Sharpe felt compelled to end his suspension early. I guessed the
school board hadn’t seen his actions as a reason for expulsion. Fletcher didn’t
seem to care one way or the other, but part of his return required him to
apologize to Ms. Melcher.

The two of us sat at our usual picnic
table during lunch when Bailey delivered my invitation. I didn’t know what to
make of the fact that Trista hadn’t delivered it herself, but Trista was only
inviting me because Bailey was making her, so it really didn’t matter.

Bailey handed me the invite as if it were
the greatest gift she had ever given me. “You have to wear a costume, Arden.
Something cool that people will understand.”

I scrunched my face at her. I thought I
did that every year. “What do you mean?”

“Well last year you wore a blue sweatshirt
and said you were Dory from
Finding Nemo
,
and the year before
that you made a green oval thing and said you were an olive.”

So? “That’s my favorite food and my
favorite character from a children’s movie.”

“You cannot make your own costume. I’ll
help you find something really cute if you want.”

Her eyes shifted to Fletcher, who had been
staring off into the distance, ignoring our exchange. She took a deep breath.
“I suppose you can bring Fletcher if he wants to come.”

He glared at Bailey. “Fletcher doesn’t
want to come.” I nudged his knee with mine, and he stared off again.

Bailey looked relieved. “Good then. See
you. This is going to be the party of the year.”

Trista’s Halloween parties had always been
a big deal since the seventh grade. For weeks after, I’d have to listen to
everyone talk about them, the catered food, the party favors, the awesome band,
but now I was actually going to be part of it.

Bailey wriggled her fingers in a wave.
“Later, love.”

“You shouldn’t go to that party,” Fletcher
said after Bailey glided away.

“Why not?”

“I think something bad might happen then.
After Mrs. Chin and Mr. Thompson—”

Why did he have to bring them up?
“Fletcher, don’t. Those were freak accidents that happened at the beginning of
the school year, and nothing has happened since.”

Fletcher shrugged and stared off into
nothing again. Something was wrong with him, and I wasn’t sure what.

“Fletch, you know I never do anything fun.
Let me have this one night without you making me feel guilty. It’s just a
party. Bailey said you could come if you wanted.”

“I’d rather eat the cafeteria meatloaf,
throw it up, and then eat it again.”

Gross. Thankfully the bell rang.

The next day I realized I had spoken too
soon when I told Fletcher there was nothing to worry about. Ms. Melcher was
missing. She was my favorite teacher, but I reminded myself that missing could
mean a lot of things. It didn’t necessarily mean dead. Paige had been missing,
and she was fine.

She hadn’t shown up to school that day and
she hadn’t arranged for a substitute, which was nothing like Ms. Melcher. She
was always there and rarely out. Principal Sharpe and the rest of the staff had
to be worried, but they tried their best not to show it.

Naturally everyone brought up Fletcher and
how he’d told Ms. Melcher she was going to die. I knew Fletcher had nothing to
do with her disappearance, but even I had to admit that it was a hell of a
coincidence.

By lunchtime, different versions of what
people thought was the real story behind Ms. Melcher’s disappearance was all
anyone talked about. According to her mom, Ms. Melcher had a boyfriend in
Vegas. Lacey said he had proposed to Ms. Melcher over the weekend, and she’d
dropped everything and moved there to be with him. He was filthy rich, and she
wouldn’t have to work anymore. I had no idea how Lacey would know any of that
but people ran with that theory.

Some girls were saying good for her, but I
knew that couldn’t be right. That didn’t sound like Ms. Melcher at all. The Ms.
Melcher I knew wouldn’t drop her life and career and move to Vegas on a whim without
telling anyone. She was smarter than that.

The other theory was that she was dead and
Fletcher was psychic. He’d known what would happen before it did. The most
scandalous story was that Fletcher’s warning had actually been a threat and he
had murdered her, and her body was down in his basement. Ranson was the main
carrier of that rumor.

“Do you believe what they’re saying?” I
asked Fletcher at lunch.

“That I killed her and that she’s wrapped
in garbage bags in my basement? Of course not.”

“What do you think happened to her?”

He looked at me as if I had asked him the
dumbest question in the world. “You of all people should know.”

No. Not more riddles. “What?”

“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 looked 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.”