A picture drawn from his attic window with trick-or- treaters everywhere. "Those are from my dark period," he joked.
"They're spectacular," I said, stepping closer.
Paint was everywhere, even splattered on the floor.
"You're totally awesome!"
"I wasn't sure you'd like them."
"They're unbelievable!"
I noticed a canvas covered with a sheet on an easel in the corner.
"Don't worry, it won't bite."
I paused before it, wondering what lay beneath the sheet. And for once my imagination failed me. I took a corner of the sheet and slowly peeled it back, just like when I had uncovered the mirror in Alexander's basement. I was stunned. I was staring at myself, dressed for the Snow Ball, a red rose corsage pinned to my dress. But I carried a pumpkin basket over my arm and held a Snickers in one hand while on the other I wore a spider ring. Stars twinkled overhead and snow fell lightly around me. I grinned wonderfully through glistening fake vampire teeth.
"It looks just like me! I never imagined you were an artist! I mean I knew you did those drawings in the basement and then the paint on the side of the road...I had no idea."
"That was you?" he asked, reflecting.
"Why were you standing in the middle of the road?"
"I was going to the cemetery to paint this picture of my grandmother's monument."
"Don't most painters use little tubes?"
"I mix my own."
"I had no idea. You're an artist. Now it all makes sense. "
"I'm glad you like it," he said with relief. "We better get back to the party before we give them something to really gossip about."
"I guess you're right. You know how rumors spread in this town."
"Isn't it weird?" he asked, handing me a soda, back on the lawn after we'd mingled among the darkened Dullsvillians. "We're not the outcasts tonight."
"Let's enjoy it now. It'll all be back to normal tomorrow."
The party goers were smiling and having fun. But then I noticed a figure in the distance slowly running up the driveway.
"Trevor!" I said, with a gasp. "What's he doing here?"
"He's a monster!" he yelled, approaching the party. "His whole family."
"Not this again!" I said.
All eyes were on Trevor.
"Alexander, go back inside," I urged. But he didn't move.
"He hangs out in the cemetery for freakin' sake!" Trevor said, pointing to my Gothic Mate. "There were no bats in this town before he came!" he shouted.
"And there weren't losers in this town before you came!" I said.
"Raven, calm down," my father admonished sternly.
"Enough of this!" Matt said, bursting forth, with Jack Patterson right behind him.
"Look here! I've been attacked!" Trevor exclaimed, pointing to a scratch on his neck. "By a bat! I'm going to have to get freakin' rabies shots!"
"Let it go, Trevor," Matt said, exhausted.
"It happened on the way here. I'd called your house and your mom said you were partying at freak Mansion. What's up with that? You were supposed to be hanging out with me!"
"You've done this to yourself," Matt answered. "I'm through driving you around town so you can spread your stupid rumors. You've played me long enough, Trev."
"But I was right! They are vampires!" Trevor shouted. "And I was right when I didn't invite you," Matt said.
"You guys are crazy. Partying with freaks!" Trevor argued, glaring at us all.
"Okay, Trevor, that's enough," my father said, stepping toward him.
"I didn't have anything to do with this," Alexander said, confused.
"I think we know that," I confirmed.
"But--" Trevor began, his angry eyes thirsting for blood.
"I'd rather not have to call your father," my dad finally said, putting his hand on Trevor's shoulder.
Trevor was fuming, but he was running out of steam. There was no one here who'd fall for his jokes, take his side, think he was wonderful for scoring a winning goal. No giggling girls who wanted to date a soccer snob or hang with him anymore because he was popular. There was nothing left for him to do but leave.
"You just wait--my dad owns this town!" he said, as he stormed off. It was the only thing he could say.
"Don't forget to use some ice on that," my mom advised as if she were Florence Nightingale.
"He needs a tranquilizer gun, not ice, Mom."
We all watched as Trevor reached the gate and was finally gone.
"Well, we had planned on a singing telegram, but they must have gotten the instructions wrong," my dad joked. The crowd laughed with relief.
Alexander and I hung onto each other for comfort. The children began running around, pretending to be vampires. Later, after Alexander had said good-bye to his neighbors, Becky found me cleaning up the refreshment table.