"We should eat," he unexpectedly expressed, moving to his feet.
He set five dark candles in elaborate votive holders and lit them with a classical lighter. He unloaded a container of shimmering juice and saltines and cheddar and spread a dark trim decorative liner over the virus grass.
"Have you at any point been enamored?" I asked as he filled my precious stone flagon.
Unexpectedly we heard a cry and the candles smothered.
"That's what was?" I inquired.
"I believe it's a canine."
"It sounds more like a wolf!"
"One way or another, we would be advised to go!" he said direly.
I began to push everything into his knapsack.
"We lack the capacity to deal with that!" he said, getting my hand.
The breeze kept on crying. The commotion was drawing nearer.
We took cover behind the landmark.
"Assuming it's an apparition you've come to see," a recognizable voice called to us, "I can guarantee you that the main phantom you'll be seeing this evening is your own." A man followed with a spotlight. It was Old Jim, the guardian, with Luke, his Great Dane.
Assuming that he remembered me here at this hour I'd need to pay off him with a year's stockpile of canine rolls to hold him back from telling my folks.
We looked out and could see the canine licking juice off the grass.
"Give me that, Luke," Old Jim said and got the jug. He took a long drink.
"Presently!" Alexander murmured. He fixed his hold on my hand and we ran, rushing over the wall.
I don't figure a genuine apparition and a ghost wolf might have frightened me more than Old Jim and his corroded Luke.
"I surmise I ought to have taken you to a film all things considered," Alexander said happily after we slowed down to rest. "I'll walk you home."
"Could we at any point go to your home?" I argued. "I need to see your room!"
"You can't see my room."
"Have opportunity and energy."
"No chance."
There was a tenseness in his voice I hadn't heard previously.
"What's in your room, Alexander?"
"What's in your room, Raven?" he asked, scowling at me. "We should return to your place."
"Uh...well..." He was correct. I was unable to bring him into my home and subject him to Billy Boy and my white-bread guardians. Not on our most memorable date. "My room's a wreck."
"Indeed, mine is, as well," he said. "I don't need to return home, truly."
"I would rather not cause you problems."
"I generally cause problems. My mother wouldn't remember me on the off chance that I wasn't in a tough situation."
In any case, the roads we strolled, connected at the hip, drove back to my home, and regardless of how gradually I strolled, in a flash we were remaining close to home, bidding farewell.
"Well...until...next time..." he said, his face focusing underneath the patio light.
"Next time the funeral home?"
"I figured we could watch a film at my home."
"You have a TV?" I said. "It's fueled by power, you know."
"Cheeky young lady, I have Bela Lugosi's Dracula on DVD, since you like vampires to such an extent."
"Dracula? Amazing!"
"Then it's a date. Seven o'clock tomorrow, OK?"
"Electrifying!"
We had made another date and nothing remained to be done now except for bid farewell. Primo second for a delectable kiss. He put his hand on my shoulder and inclined in, his eyes shut and his lips full.
Abruptly the entryway locks shook. Alexander got out of the light and into the shrubs.
"I thought I heard voices," my mother said, opening the entryway. "Where's Becky?"
"She's at home." It was really reality. "I could do without you running off without telling me," she reprimanded, holding the entryway open for me.
Yearning to have that second back and one second more, I investigated at Alexander.
"Did you all head out to the motion pictures?" she asked as I hesitantly ventured inside.
"No, Mom, we went to the graveyard."
"For probably the first time, I wish you would offer me a straight response!"
For probably the first time, I was offering her a straight response.
Furthermore, as I investigated my shoulder for a last look at my Gothic Dream Mate, she shut the entryway on my grand first date.
I was generally late for everything- - supper, school, even films - yet this evening I was right on time, as I showed up at the Mansion at 6:45. Alexander opened the entryway himself and kissed me courteously on the cheek. I was just about as stunned as he at his abrupt showcase of warmth.
"That never happened when Jameson opened the entryway!" I said.
"Indeed, you better let me know if it does. We have a standard, you know. I don't kiss his young ladies and he doesn't kiss mine!" Alexander sparkled considerably more than he had that evening I'd snuck in and he had broadened the hand with the insect ring. He was becoming sure. He drove me up the terrific flight of stairs to the family room. It was loaded up with present day workmanship pieces- - blossomed artistic creations, an Andy Warhol print of Campbell's soup jars, Barbie doll figures, and gaudy, fuzzy, wild floor coverings. There was a dark calfskin love seat, a wide screen television, and a glass table with a monster tub of film popcorn, SnoCaps, Dots, Sprees, Good and Plenty, and two neon-green glasses loaded up with pop.
"I needed to cause you to feel like you're at the films," he made sense of.