After rolling his eyes at the Sherlock Holmes costume I was wearing to the dance (apparently he thinks there’s room for only one detective in our family), my dad agreed to drive Roy and me to the school. As soon as he pulled to a stop, I bolted from the car with a quick “Thanks for the ride!” yelled over my shoulder. Stacey was working at the door, taking money. She was dressed as Catwoman and experienced some difficulty handling the cash around her long claws.
“There’s a ton of people here already!” she said excitedly.
“Mindi here yet?” asked Roy.
“Yeah, she just got here.”
“What about Chris?” I asked, ignoring the strange look Roy shot me. I’d told Stacey and Mindi about what he’d said to me at the library.
“Chris? Uh … yeah … I think I’ve seen him, too,” said Stacey, biting her lip.
“Why do you want to know if Chris is here?” asked Roy.
“No reason,” I said, winking at Stacey.
She lowered her eyes. “Uh … have fun, guys,” she said, subdued. She took money from the people behind us. I frowned. What was wrong with her all of a sudden?
We were blasted with loud, pumping music as we stepped into the darkened gym. It looked amazing! Hanging cobwebs draped down from the walls. Black lights shone onto the dance floor, creating an eerie glowing effect on anything white. Stacey was right, there was a good turnout already and the doors had been open for only a short time. My heart lifted with excitement. This was going to be fun!
I scanned the crowd, looking for Chris. Just about everyone wore a costume, making finding a particular person difficult. I should have asked him how he’d be dressed. We finally spotted Mindi by the refreshment table with Cori. I raised my hand to wave but it froze in mid-air. My jaw dropped so far I’m sure it hit the floor. I must have stopped walking because suddenly Roy was ahead of me saying, “Sarah? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” His voice seemed to come from far away.
What’s wrong? There was Cori, my arch-enemy, snuggled in nice and close to the boy beside her, the boy who stared back at her, completely mesmerized, like he’d died and gone to heaven. That boy was none other than Chris LeBlanc, and he’d never looked at me the way he was looking at Cori. I felt like someone had just slugged me in the gut.
“Sarah?” repeated Roy, stepping closer. “What’s the matter? Are you going to puke or something?”
I wanted to crawl under a rug as understanding dawned on me. So that’s why he’d said he’d see me here. Because he was going to be with Cori. He’d probably just asked her before running into me. No wonder he was so happy! How could I have been such an idiot? As I stared, I realized that Chris hung onto Cori’s every word. Clearly, he worshipped her. Why hadn’t I seen it before?
As for Cori, even I had to admit she looked beautiful. How could I blame him for wanting to be with her? She was dressed as Cleopatra and wore a long, shimmering gown with petite golden sandals on her feet. Her eyes were outlined dramatically with black liner, and a gleaming black wig with a golden tiara completed the look. I suddenly hated my dumpy, masculine Sherlock Holmes outfit. What was I thinking? What boy would want anything to do with me dressed like this?
Chris was a dead hockey player. His ghostly white face featured blackened eyes and streaks of blood. His hair was dusted white, and his hockey gear was dirtied and ripped. He looked like he’d just stepped out of the grave. But he still looked good. Really good. And he only had eyes for Cori.
I wanted to go home. I might have actually said that aloud to Roy, but by then he’d abandoned me for Mindi. He stood at her side and they laughed at something he’d said. How cute, everyone in couples but me. Would any of them have noticed if I’d turned around right then and left? I took a step back, but Mindi called me over and it was too late to flee.
I was trapped.
Mindi’s costume was very cute. She wore a cowboy hat, a silk western shirt, tight jeans, half-chaps, and her paddock boots — all cleaned up so they weren’t covered in horse poop. I thought again about my dumpy tweed coat. Why didn’t my friends tell me my costume was stupid?
“Ah, isn’t that cute?” crooned Cori. “Mindi and Roy are both cowboys! Or should I say, cowpeople.”
Yes. Sad but true. Mindi and Roy wore coordinated costumes. He sported a huge Stetson, a red checked shirt unbuttoned practically to his belly (for some strange reason), a pair of my jeans so they’d fit tightly, and full chaps. He even had a coil of rope hanging from his hip, in case he needed to lasso a bull, I guess.
“Well, Cori,” explained Roy. “You may think that our costumes are a match, and I don’t blame you, but actually, we’re not the same at all. You see, Mindi’s a cowgirl, just like you thought, but I’m actually an exotic dancer. This is how I look for my most famous act.” With that, he leaned forward and wiggled his eyebrows at her. “You’ll see what I mean when I get out there dancing, later on.”
She giggled. I gagged.
“Just do us all a favour and keep your clothes on,” I said.
“Oh, Sarah!” crooned Cori, snuggling in closer to Chris. “I didn’t see you there.” Liar. Then she tilted her head and examined me with an exaggerated puzzled expression. “What are you dressed up as, an old man?”
My face burned.
“You’re Sherlock Holmes, right, Sarah?” said Chris. I nodded, my mouth too dry to speak. “You look great,” he added with a smile. Beside him, Cori pouted and tugged at his arm. He immediately turned back to her and she beamed at him.
I sighed. She was such a schmuck and he was such a great guy. Why was he wasting his time with her? Especially when he could be with me! Catwoman, also known as Stacey, joined us just then. She’d finished her shift at the door and had time to enjoy the dance for a while before her next job. I was happy to see her since, like me, she wasn’t part of a couple.
“Isn’t this the best dance ever? Don’t you love all the costumes?” asked Stacey. She grabbed my arm. “C’mon, let’s dance!”
I couldn’t help but get caught up in her excitement. And I actually started to have a little fun. Roy, of course, had to go a little overboard with the exotic dancer theme. Mr. Sanderson, my basketball coach, ended up giving him a warning about dancing appropriately. When the music slowed down, Chris pulled Cori close. I stared jealously from the sidelines and actually wished I was Cori for just that dance.
Then I saw Byron.
He was staring at me from across the dance floor. I’m surprised I recognized him. He wore a skeleton costume, the bones glowing eerily under the black lights. His face was painted to look like skull bones, his eyes blackened to look hollow. I gave him a little wave just as a couple of dancers blocked our view of each other. When they stepped away, he was gone. I debated for a few minutes before going over to say hi.
I found him heading for the exit. “Byron, you look great!” I said.
“Not great enough. You recognized me,” he grunted.
I ignored his surliness. “Why don’t you come over and join us?” I asked, while a part of my brain was screaming, What are you doing?
He scowled. “No thanks.”
“Don’t be stupid! Come on over and have some fun,” I coaxed.
He looked at me, and suddenly those sad eyes were back. “I just want to head home, Sarah, okay? I only came for a little bit; I never wanted to stay long.”
“You put a lot of work into that costume for someone who only wanted to stay for a short time,” I said.
“No, my mom put a lot of work into it. Garnet opened her big mouth about the dance, so Mom’s giving me twenty bucks to stay for at least twenty minutes,” he explained, then checked his watch. “I’ve done nineteen and a half. Good enough.”
“Your mom’s actually paying you to be here?” I asked, in disbelief.
“She’s trying to get me to go out more,” he said, shrugging. “Who am I to turn down easy cash? Besides, I thought I should probably keep an eye on her.” I followed his eyes. Off to the side of the dance floor, Garnet was dancing wildly with J.D. “But it looks like she’s okay, so I’m heading home.”
Impulsively, I grabbed his arm. “Before you go, you’re going to come over and hang out with me and my friends.”
He tugged back his arm. “No, I don’t want to.”
But I wasn’t taking no for an answer. “C’mon, you’ll have fun!”
“Sarah, no. I’m heading out,” he insisted.
“Just stay for a little while longer! Maybe your mom will double the money!” I was relentless and yanked on his arm until he finally seemed to stumble along of his own accord. I guess he figured it was better than me making a huge scene by pulling him, kicking and screaming, across the gym floor. I have no idea why I was so insistent. I should have just let the poor guy go home.
“Hey, everyone. This is Byron,” I said, approaching the group. Mindi, Roy, Stacey, Cori, and Chris all turned in unison and stared as I rhymed off each of their names. For an extremely awkward moment, no one said anything.
Finally, Chris said, “Cool costume.”
“Yeah,” grunted Byron, looking down at himself.
“You probably think I’m just a cowboy,” said Roy.
“Uh-oh. Not again,” said Mindi, grinning.
Roy wiggled his eyebrows at her. “I may look like just an ordinary cowboy, Byron, but in fact, I’m really an exotic dancer.”
“Oh really?” I could almost see Byron biting his tongue, holding back a sarcastic response.
“He keeps telling us that if the right song comes on, he’ll be out on the dance floor doing his act,” said Stacey with a giggle. “We’re all trying to figure out what the right song is so we can request it.”
“Not all of us,” corrected Chris. “I can live without seeing Roy striptease in the middle of a school dance.”
“Me too,” I agreed. “I saw enough of his butt when we were kids. He used to run around the house naked after a bath.”
“Hey, hey, no family secrets,” protested Roy, holding up his hands. Everyone laughed. Even Byron — a little.
“So you don’t want me to tell them that you still do that?” I asked innocently.
“That’s right, it’s our little secret.”
Byron hanging around with us wasn’t as awkward as I thought it was going to be. He didn’t say much, just stood beside me. For someone who was known for his obnoxiousness, I thought he did well. That is, until Stacey and I began talking about tattoos.
“I’m going to get one on my ankle,” said Stacey. “A flower, I think. That would be cool.”
“Are you sure, Stacey?” I asked. “You know you can get an infection from a tattoo needle that hasn’t been sterilized properly.”
“You sound like my mother!” she protested. “Tattoos are cool! Besides, how many people do you know get infections? I think that’s a story parents just made up to stop their kids from getting tattoos.”
That’s about when Cori joined in. “Sarah, how would you know about tattoos and infections?” she asked. “It’s not like you’re an expert on the subject, is it?”
I bristled. “I saw a show.”
“I think if Stacey wants to get a tattoo, let her get one,” said Cori.
“I didn’t say she couldn’t! I was just saying you can get an infection from the needle,” I said. “She should know that.”
“She’s right,” said Byron. We all looked at him, startled. He’d been so quiet, I think we almost forgot he was standing there.
“How would you know?” asked Cori, making a face.
“When I got my tattoo, my mom went with me and made sure everything was sterile and the ink was fresh,” he explained. “Then for about a week afterwards, I had to put ointment on it to prevent infection.”
Stacey’s eyes widened. “You have a tattoo? Can I see it?”
He shrugged and pushed up his skeleton sleeve to reveal his tattooed bicep, which I couldn’t help but notice was quite well defined. Looked like he’d be good at arm wrestling. I shook my head to get that image out of my mind. Stacey, Cori, and I leaned in for a closer look. His tattoo was a symbol that looked like a backwards cursive capital E with a smaller upside down horseshoe beside it and a script semicircle with a dot above it.
“What is it?” asked Cori with a frown.
“It’s Aum. It represents the fundamental sound of the universe,” explained Byron.
“The funda … what?” she asked, screwing up her face. “Where’d you get a weird idea like that?”
“I’m into music and I play the guitar so I thought the symbol for sound was cool,” said Byron with a shrug.
“So? I play the piano. That doesn’t mean I have to get some weird tattoo on my arm,” retorted Cori.
“I like it,” said Stacey.
“So do I,” I agreed.
“I think it’s weird,” snorted Cori.
“You don’t have to like it,” said Byron, pulling down his sleeve. “It doesn’t have anything to do with you. It’s my body.”
“What other weird tattoos do you have? Any other strange symbols?” asked Cori, narrowing her eyes.
“Sure. I’d show you but I’d have to kill you,” Byron deadpanned.
Stacey’s eyes widened and she backed away.
“He’s kidding!” I said. “Right, Byron?”
He looked at me, with that same deadpan expression. “Maybe.”
At that, Stacey made a beeline for the refreshment table, mumbling something about checking on the supplies.
“Why would you go and say that?” I asked him. “You’ve scared Stacey away with your little joke.”
“Maybe he wasn’t joking,” said Cori, who, unfortunately, hadn’t bolted with Stacey. “Maybe he’s serious.”
“Yeah. Maybe I’m serious,” echoed Byron.
“Give me a break,” I said, exasperated.
Cori shrugged. “Actually, I’m surprised you’re here, Byron. Isn’t Halloween a big night for people like you?”
“Cori, shut up!” I snapped.
She turned on me. “Why are you sticking up for him? What’s going on between you two?”
Before I could answer, Byron said, “I gotta go, Sarah. Cori’s right. I’ve got things to do. It’s an important night for people like me.” He flipped his middle finger up at Cori as he left. I don’t think she saw it, but I did.
“There goes your freaky boyfriend,” said Cori.
“He’s not my boyfriend.” I shook my head and walked after Byron. I’d had enough of Cori and her pigheadedness.
I weaved my way through the crowd and left the gym, looking for him. The hall was deserted except for a couple of teachers chatting and watching the doors. My ears buzzed in the sudden quiet. I felt awful about what had just happened. I shouldn’t have forced him to stay at the dance. I should have just let him go home.
A burst of music from the opening gym door announced Mindi’s arrival. “Where are you going, Sarah?” she asked. “Did Byron leave?”
“Yeah. Cori …” I began, then I stopped, unsure what to say. After all, Cori was her friend. I seemed to be the only one who had a problem with her. “I was just going to say goodbye to him.”
“Oh.” She shifted and looked a little uncomfortable. “Sarah, is there something you’re not telling me about Byron?”
“Like what?”
“Well, you seem … interested in him.”
“Interested? Of course I am.” Then I caught on to her meaning. “No! Not in that way.” I laughed. “You think I asked him over because I like him?”
“Well, yeah, I … we … were starting to wonder.”
“No, it’s not like that. It’s just … when you spend time working on a project with someone, you get to know them a little. I guess I’m starting to feel a bit sorry for him. He has no friends. He’s lonely. Do you know that his mother paid him to come to the dance?”
“Maybe he’s happy that way,” said Mindi. “He’s not a stray dog for you to take care of.”
“I know he’s not a stray dog. Look, if he really didn’t want to hang out with us, he wouldn’t have,” I said, trying to forget how he’d fought me when I’d pulled him over to the group.
“Are you sure there isn’t something you aren’t telling me?” asked Mindi.
I sighed. “Yes, I’m sure. Honestly. I just want to find out the real story behind the Hoppers and clear up the rumours about them once and for all. As for Byron, he’s just one piece of the Hopper puzzle to me.”
“Okay. Let’s go back to the dance,” she said.
The music blasted into the hall as Mindi yanked open the gym door. Before following her in, I took a quick glance behind me — and caught Byron standing there, watching. Our eyes met briefly, his full of hurt, before he disappeared around the corner that led to the exit doors.
“Byron!” I called. The gym door closed behind Mindi. I was torn. Should I go back to the dance with Mindi or go after Byron? He’d obviously overheard what I’d just said. I needed to explain myself. Mindi would understand. I hoped.
I jogged down the hall and turned the corner. He as gone. I peered through the exit door and spotted him, the bones on his costume glowing eerily under the street lights. I hesitated for one brief moment. What did I really know about him and his family? What if he was a devil worshipper? Is that the kind of guy I should be chasing down the street in the dark? Then I stepped outside. The night air was cool and felt good after the hot, stuffy gym.
“Byron! Wait up!” I ran after him.
He didn’t respond. In fact, I think he picked up his pace. I called again, a few times. No response. Finally, I slowed to a walk and wondered what the heck I was doing. Should I keep following or go back to the dance? I kept walking while I tried to make up my mind. Next thing I knew, I turned a corner and Byron’s massive house loomed in front of me. By then, he was nowhere to be seen. I made up my mind. I wanted to apologize.
I boldly walked up to the front door and knocked. No answer. I realized then that I was just wasting my time; Byron obviously didn’t want to talk with me. I turned to leave just as a tall woman with a gorgeous mop of curly red hair opened the door. She was beautiful. My mouth dropped open. If that’s what a devil worshipper looked like, where could I sign up?
“I don’t have any candy left,” she said apologetically.
I looked down at my Sherlock Holmes costume and realized her error. I forced a laugh. “I’m not here to trick-or-treat,” I said. “I’m looking for Byron.”
“You are?” she asked, looking surprised.
“Yes. He left the dance before I got a chance to talk to him …” My voice trailed off.
“He hasn’t come home yet,” she said with a frown.
“He hasn’t?”
“No.” She stepped aside as if to let me enter and smiled. “Would you like to come in and wait for him?”
“No, thank you.”
“Can I tell him who was looking for him?”
“Sarah Martin,” I said dully. “We’re working on a geography project together.”
“Oh! Then I’ll be seeing you again,” she said with a bright smile. “Do you need a ride anywhere?”
“No thanks, I can walk,” I said, stepping down from the porch.
“Are you sure?”
“Oh yeah. It’s not problem,” I assured her. “I’m not going far.”
“Well, okay then, if you’re sure. Nice to meet you,” she said.
I hit the sidewalk in front of the house and glanced back. Byron’s mom still stood in the open doorway. She smiled and waved. I waved back. At that point, I was mad at just about everyone. I was mad at Chris for making me think he liked me. I was mad at Roy for not telling me that Chris liked Cori. I was mad at Cori for being her usual rude self. And finally, I was mad at Byron for not stopping to talk when I called him.
I stomped along the dark, tree-lined sidewalk, getting angrier by the minute, when I heard a noise against the wooden fence between me and Byron’s front yard. I spun around. I was alone. Another thump on the fence. This time I saw a stone hit the ground. I still seemed to be alone. A pebble bounced on the sidewalk in front of my feet and I jumped back, heart thumping.
“Who’s there?” I called out, my voice trembling.
No answer. No one in sight. My fingers tingled and I made them into fists. Was this some kind of devil curse? Was Byron somehow making pebbles rain down on me? I looked up to the sky to see if any more were heading my way. That’s when I saw the eerie skeletal face leering at me from a tree branch on the other side of the fence.
I screamed.
“Oops, did I scare ya?” asked Byron, with a chuckle.
“No, not at all,” I answered, trying to steady my voice. I wiped my sweating palms on my pants.
“Liar.”
“What are you doing up in a tree?” I asked.
“Hanging out,” he said. “What are you doing at my house?”
“Looking for you. I wanted to talk.”
“So talk.”
“Climb down. I can’t talk to you up there,” I said.
“I’m not coming down, so I guess we’re not talking,” he said.
I sighed. Talk about childish. I jogged back along the sidewalk, through the gate, and back across the yard to the tree. It was massive, with a huge trunk and sturdy branches for climbing. I grabbed one and hauled myself up. Did he think he was the only one who could climb? I’d done my share of gymnastics, so I figured it would be a piece of cake. I soon realized that tree branches were a little different from parallel bars. I managed to reach the limb that he was sitting on and, with a grunt, hefted myself up onto it beside him. Immediately, I lost my balance and felt myself falling backwards.
“Whoa,” he said, and reached out to steady me. “Don’t climb trees much, huh?” I just glared at him and worked on maintaining balance. “You didn’t have to come up here. You weren’t invited.”
“You invited me when you said you wouldn’t come down to talk,” I retorted.
“Who said I’d talk to you up here?”
“Me. I just want you to listen anyway,” I said.
“I’ve already heard enough.”
“I want you to understand …” I began. I shifted on the branch to get more comfortable; trees weren’t exactly lounge chairs.
“I do understand. I’m just a piece of the weird Hopper family puzzle,” he said, looking the other way.
I winced. “That’s not quite how I meant it.”
“There’s a better way to mean it?”
“Yes … well …” I hesitated, then decided to tell him the truth. “I had a bit of a run-in with your sister a couple of weeks ago. She sort of tripped over me and then she put a curse on me.”
Byron groaned.
“Afterwards, people told me some stories about you and your family. At first, I didn’t know what to think. I guess I was a little scared, but mostly, I was curious. Why so many rumours? It didn’t seem right. Since we’ve been working together, you’ve kindly informed me that you aren’t part of the Mafia or in the witness protection program. So, if I can believe you, I know that those two rumours aren’t true.”
“None of them are true,” he mumbled. “We’re not devil worshippers either.”
I smiled. “That’s a relief. But why do all these rumours exist?”
“That’s a long story.”
“We have time.”
“No, we don’t. Let’s just say, sometimes rumours are easier to deal with than the truth, okay?”
“No, not okay. What’s so bad about the truth?” I asked. “What could be worse than people thinking you’re a devil worshipper?”
He shook his head. “Sometimes it’s just easier to let people believe what they want.”
“But … is it worth not having friends? You must be unhappy …” My voice trailed off.
“I’m not. What does it matter to you, anyway?”
“Why shouldn’t it matter to me? Don’t you think someone should care?”
“No one has up till now.” He gazed off towards the road. “Did it ever occur to you that I may not want to have any friends? That if I wanted friends, I’d be a nicer guy?”
“You’re a good guy,” I said hesitantly.
“I’m not a good guy, Sarah,” he said, his expression dark.
“You don’t mean that,” I said. “Anyway, everybody needs someone to be their friend. You know, to have someone to talk to.”
“Like we’re talking now?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“I can think of things I’d rather do.”
I felt my face go red. I reminded myself that he was probably just being rude to protect himself, like Dad had suggested. “That’s your choice; I just came here to apologize. I didn’t want you to think the only reason I was being friendly to you at the dance was because I was curious about your family. And I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.” I shifted on the branch, looking for the route down.
“Wait.” He was looking at me, a pained smile on his lips. “Thanks, I had fun tonight.”
“Until Cori opened her big mouth, right?” I asked.
“Yeah. Until then.”
I nodded. “Don’t start feeling special, she’s not exactly my biggest fan, either.”
He grinned. “I gathered that.”
“Are you going to tell me why you’re sitting in a tree?”
He studied me for a moment. “If I tell you something, will you keep it a secret?”
“Cross my heart and hope to die,” I promised, crossing my heart with my hand.
He rolled his eyes. “How old are you?”
“Seriously, I won’t tell,” I said, dropping my hand.
“Our house has been getting vandalized lately,” he explained. “I figure it’ll likely happen again tonight given that it’s Halloween. I thought if I sat up here, I’d catch the vandals red-handed.”
“You’re on surveillance!” I breathed. Now that was something I could relate to; I was wearing a Sherlock Holmes costume, wasn’t I?
“Yeah, I guess.”
“What do you plan to do if you catch someone?” I asked, in awe.
He reached into the neck of his costume and pulled a cellphone out of an inner pocket. “I’ll call the police.” He looked at my face and laughed. “What did you think I was going to do? Beat them up?” He tilted his head as if considering that option. “Maybe it’ll depend on how many there are. I do have a first-degree black belt in karate. I could probably inflict some decent damage, if there are only a couple of them.”
“No! You need to phone the police,” I insisted.
He laughed again. “I was just kidding. Karate isn’t about beating people up,” he said. “It’s a martial art. It’s about self-discipline, controlling your physical energy, and creating inner peace. I’m not training to be a ninja or anything. I like karate because it brings mind and body together.”
“Oh. And I always thought it was about beating people up,” I said.
“I’m sure I could do that too, if I had to,” he added.
I glanced at my watch and tried to make out where the hands were in the dark. “I should probably get going, and this branch is killing my butt.”
“I’ll walk you back,” he said.
“No! You might miss the vandals. I’ll be fine by myself,” I insisted. I reached around with my foot, searching for the lower branch. I couldn’t seem to find it. I reached further and lost my balance. Byron grabbed my arm, steadying me. “Uh, how do I get down?” I asked him.
“I’ll help you. Just give me a second.” He swung down easily, branches creaking as they took his weight. Then, before I knew it, he was perched beneath me, reaching up.
“Show-off,” I said, clenching my teeth.
His hand grabbed my right ankle. I stifled a scream. I couldn’t believe how babyish I was being about this. Apparently, I wasn’t comfortable climbing down strange trees in the dark. Things you learn.
“I’m going to guide your foot down to the next branch, okay?” he said.
“Sure — not so fast!”
He chuckled. “There’s the branch,” he said, when he literally placed my foot right onto it.
“Oh, that branch,” I said. Okay, I was embarrassed. The branch wasn’t that much further down than I’d been reaching.
“Now, lean on it and bring your left foot down,” he instructed, his hand still on my ankle. And so it went, all the way down the tree. Byron guiding my foot to the next branch, and I, trembling, letting him. Finally, he held onto my waist as I jumped the remaining distance to the ground.
“Okay now?” he asked. We were standing very close.
“Thanks,” I said, sheepishly. “I didn’t know I was such a girl.”
“Thanks for coming and talking with me,” he said.
“You’re welcome.”
He gazed at me and the moonlight glinted off his deep brown eyes. His hands were still on my waist. Then he leaned down and lightly kissed me. I stood there, stunned, while he climbed back up the tree to watch for his vandals.
“See you tomorrow,” I said, weakly.
I jogged to the sidewalk and headed back to school, my lips still warm where Byron’s had been. It wasn’t until I was halfway back when I realized he hadn’t denied the rumour about Garnet’s murder investigation. Could that be the truth he was trying to hide from me? That she really was a murderer?
I arrived back at school just in time to see a motley-looking crew made up of Garnet, J.D., a Grim Reaper, a vampire, and a clown standing in the hallway inside the exit doors with Mr. Douglas, the principal, and Constable Meyers, the school’s Community Police Officer. As I approached, Constable Meyers wedged the outside doors open. When he turned back to the group, I quickly slipped through them, unnoticed in the commotion.
Mr. Douglas was speaking to the Grim Reaper. “Nathan Tremball, I have to say I’m disappointed in you. I wouldn’t have expected this from you.”
“I’m sorry, sir. It won’t happen again,” said Nathan.
“I hope not. You wouldn’t want to spoil your good record here,” said Mr. Douglas. “But you do understand, after what just happened, that I have to ask you to leave the dance.”
“I was only defending myself!”
“Sorry. Rules are rules,” said Mr. Douglas, tight-lipped. “As for you, Garnet, this boy” — he pointed at J.D. — “is banned from attending any future dances at this school.”
“As if I’d ever want to come back to this dump,” scoffed J.D.
“Then I’ll be happy not to see you again,” said Mr. Douglas. “You’re lucky I’m not pressing charges.”
J.D. snorted and swaggered through the open doorway. He was followed by the others. Constable Meyers pulled the doors closed behind them and yanked, ensuring that they were locked. “That’ll keep out the riff-raff,” he said.
I hurried to the gym, anxious to find out what had happened while I was gone. The gym doors were wide open, displaying a well-lit scene of chaos. The thumping music was muted while kids milled about in groups, talking excitedly. The gym no longer resembled a haunted ballroom. Enough of the decorations had been pulled down and destroyed to ruin the effect. Stacey, Cori, Mindi, and several others from student council were picking up the wreckage and stuffing it into huge garbage bins. Stacey’s eyes were red and teary.
Cori saw me first. She pointed accusingly. “Look who’s back.”
“Sarah! Where did you go?” asked Mindi, dropping what she had in her hands into the garbage.
“Uh, outside …” I said vaguely. “What happened?”
“Some weird guy picked a fight with Nathan Tremball,” explained Stacey. “When Constable Meyers told them to leave, the guy went crazy. He wrecked all these decorations on his way out the door. He was with Garnet Hopper. She just watched and laughed.”
“And that’s why we don’t hang out with Hoppers — or their friends,” pronounced Cori.
“They ruined the whole dance!” cried Stacey. “And look what that idiot did to all our hard work! Cori’s right. The Hoppers are bad news.”
“You mean J.D. That’s the guy you’re talking about. He’s the one that’s bad news,” I said.
“See? Sarah even knows the guy’s name. I told you …” said Cori, her voice trailing off.
“Told them what?” I asked, exasperated.
“You’re getting really friendly with Byron, Sarah,” said Stacey. She had a wary look in her eyes.
“Byron didn’t have anything to do with this! He wasn’t even here.”
“Maybe not, but I bet he would have joined right in if he’d stuck around,” said Cori. “He’s going to be mad he missed the fun. It’s a good thing he left.”
“What?” I gasped. She was unbelievable! I appealed to Mindi, but she turned away and continued picking up ruined decorations. Then the lights dimmed once again and the music started up. The dance was back on.
I pulled Stacey aside. “You don’t really blame Byron for this mess, do you?” I asked her. She shrugged. “Byron hates J.D. He never would have been involved in something like this,” I said.
“All I know is that the dance wouldn’t have been ruined if he and his freaky sister hadn’t come.”
“Stacey, that’s not fair …”
She left me standing there with my mouth hanging open. Wow. Byron didn’t do anything — wasn’t even there — and he was somehow to blame for the mess created by J.D. as far as my friends were concerned. Is that what life was like for him? Always getting blamed for things he didn’t do?
Roy came up behind me and grabbed my arm. Chris was at his side. “Where have you been?” he asked.
“Aw, were you worried about me?” I asked, sarcastically.
“I’m not kidding around, Sarah. You can’t just leave a school dance. Dad would kill you if he found out you were out wandering the streets.”
“Are you going to tell on me?” I asked, yanking my arm out of his grip. “Besides, what makes you think I was wandering the streets?”
He lowered his voice. “Sarah, I don’t know what’s going on with you and Byron, but you need to think about who your friends are going to be.”
“Mind your own business,” I snapped. I glanced at Chris and felt my face burn. I wished I’d stayed up in the tree with Byron. Why was everyone so against me?
I turned and saw Mindi, Stacey, and Cori with their heads together, deep in conversation. Mindi noticed me watching. She looked uncomfortable and turned away. That clinched it. They were definitely talking about me. Some friends. I walked through the crowded gym, acutely aware of how much fun everyone seemed to be having. Everyone but me. How did the night get so messed up? What exactly did I do so wrong?
The silence in the deserted hallway pounded in my ears. I blindly headed for the exit; I knew when I wasn’t wanted. I heard the click of the door behind me and remembered too late that they’d been locked to keep out the “riff-raff.” That would be me. A glance at my watch told me there was over an hour to go until the end of the dance. That wasn’t so long to wait outside, by myself. No problem.
I walked around the outside of the school towards the front of the building and sat underneath a big oak tree. I pulled my tweed coat tighter around me — it might not be pretty but it was nice and warm — and settled back against the rough bark. I planned to enjoy the peace and quiet. I closed my eyes and proceeded to feel sorry for myself.
It wasn’t long before shouting and swearing in the distance interrupted the night’s stillness. I sat up. More shouts. Next thing I knew I was on my feet and racing towards the commotion. The noisemakers were the same group I’d just watched get kicked out of the dance. They were squared off in the middle of the road, clearly illuminated by the nearby street light. Garnet stood slightly behind J.D., who was facing Nathan, the Grim Reaper. Nathan’s two companions, the clown and the vampire, were at his side.
“Who’s your next victim going to be?” yelled Nathan, taking a step closer to Garnet. J.D. moved to block him from her.
“Maybe it’ll be you, Nathan!” Garnet screamed.
“Do you think your punk boyfriend is going to protect you?” growled Nathan.
“I don’t need anyone to protect me! I take care of myself,” Garnet said hotly. In spite of her bold words, she remained standing behind J.D., who was firmly planted, his chest puffed out as if to make his scrawny body look bigger than life.
“Forget about it, Nathan, just leave her alone,” said the girl in the clown costume.
“I can’t, Leanne, this scum shouldn’t be walking our streets,” said Nathan, pointing at Garnet and J.D. with disgust.
“So now we’re scum?” yelled J.D. He bounced from foot to foot, then suddenly stepped forward and gave Nathan a shove — the same quick movement I’d seen him use on Byron. Nathan recovered, with a little help from his vampire friend, and gave J.D. a push in return. They scuffled for a bit, mostly pushing and shoving.
“Stop it!” screamed Leanne. “Let’s just go home!”
Nathan was distracted by her outcry long enough to get sucker-punched in the mouth. He stumbled backward and swung his arm uselessly, in an attempt to strike back. Before any more blows could land, Leanne stepped between the fighters and pushed them apart.
“Stop fighting with this loser!” she shrieked at Nathan. “It isn’t solving anything.”
“Who are you calling a loser?” yelled Garnet. She pointed two crooked fingers at Leanne.
Leanne shook her head. “Curse me all you want. It’s not like it means anything.”
“Oh, it means something,” said Garnet, keeping her fingers aimed.
“No, it doesn’t,” Leanne insisted. “Why don’t you get some help, Garnet? You’re sick.”
Garnet spat at her.
“Gross!” Leanne jumped back to avoid getting splattered. “Maybe you’re right, Nate, these people shouldn’t be allowed to walk the streets. Let’s go.” She grabbed Nathan’s arm and tugged. The vampire followed.
“Freaks!” called Nathan over his shoulder.
J.D. jumped up and down and punched the air. “Cowards!” he yelled. “See him run?” he asked Garnet with glee, followed by more jumping and air-punching.
“Forget about them,” said Garnet, abruptly cutting into J.D.’s little victory dance. “I have to get home.”
They headed in my direction, so I jumped the fence of the house beside me and crouched behind a tree. They stalked by silently without even a glance my way. I sighed with relief. Byron had said Garnet thought she needed J.D. around for protection. Maybe she was right. I emerged from my hiding spot and jumped the fence back onto the sidewalk. I jogged after Nathan, Leanne, and the vampire; they hadn’t gone far.
“I had him. He got me when I wasn’t ready,” Nathan complained. He touched his lip, looking startled as he examined the blood on his fingertips.
“You were in charge, dude,” agreed the vampire.
“I’m always in charge, Scott,” said Nathan, grinning.
They walked in silence. I followed, careful not to make any giveaway noises. Scott started talking about some concert he and Nathan were planning to go to. Soon, Scott and Leanne turned right and said their goodbyes. Nathan turned left. I followed him. Let’s face it, I was locked out of the school dance and had no friends. I had nothing better to do.
I hung back and stayed in the shadows as much as possible, taking care to avoid detection as Nathan made his way down the street. But he’d only gone a couple of blocks when he did an abrupt turnaround and ran straight at me. My heart lurched. Had I been caught? For one awful moment, I froze, not sure what to do. Then I dove onto the nearest lawn, elbow-crawling to take cover behind a tree. I shut my eyes and braced myself for rough hands to haul me to my feet. But, instead, Nathan ran by and turned down the next block. I jumped back to my feet, hot on his trail.
I soon recognized where we were. After all, I’d been on that road once already, earlier that evening. Up ahead, Byron’s house loomed. I continued to stay far enough behind Nathan, hiding within the shadows of the trees lining the sidewalk. I searched for Byron’s shadowy figure in the big old tree, but he wasn’t there. So much for his surveillance mission. Nathan stopped on the sidewalk across the road from Byron’s house and plunked himself onto the ground. I could hear his laboured breathing from where I hid. He sat there for a long time, staring at the house. What was he doing? Was he hoping to pick another fight with Garnet?
After a long while, he stood up and walked across the road. He jumped the Hoppers’ fence and jogged along the side of their house. Curious, I crept closer to the fence and peered through. There was Nathan, looking in one of their windows. He was spying on the Hoppers, punching a fist into his open hand, over and over. Next thing I knew, he tore himself away from the window with a roar and snatched something up from the garden, running towards the front porch.
“Ya bunch of freaking witches!” he screamed at the house. He pitched his arm back and winged a pebble at the house. It hit the bricks and fell harmlessly to the ground. Nathan grunted his dissatisfaction and hunted around the garden again. His new ammunition was bigger. This time, he backed up a few steps, closer to the sidewalk.
“Garnet Hopper, go to hell!” he shouted, and the words echoed down the empty street. He heaved the fist-sized rock, grunting with the effort. This time his aim was more effective. The large front window exploded, shattering the stillness of the night. Fragments of glass rained down into the flowerbeds below, the clatter deafening, until only a few stubborn shards clung to the sill, in a stubborn refusal to leave their post.
The window was demolished.
Nathan bolted. He hit the sidewalk and ran past so fast, he was a blur. I stood frozen. In shock. He’d just broken their window. On purpose. The front lights came on. Voices rang through the night, shrill and alarmed. Byron, Garnet, his mother, and a man, who I assumed was Mr. Hopper, appeared at the window, stepping carefully around the broken glass inside. Byron’s mother knocked out a few of the dangerous shards and leaned out the window, looking all around. Garnet stood behind her, arms crossed, scowling. I shrank further into the darkness, willing myself to be invisible.
“Who are you?” she yelled, her voice catching. “Why are you doing this?”
The front door crashed open. Byron and his father burst out and ran to the sidewalk, both of them looking wildly up and down the street. Byron looked deranged, he was so angry. I considered stepping out of hiding and telling them what I saw. But how would I explain why I was following Nathan? Would they believe me? Or would they think I threw the rock?
“Come out here and deal with us in person!” his dad bellowed into the night air. My heart beat wildly. That clinched it; I didn’t have the guts to step out. Instead, I wished that I’d run, like Nathan.
Byron’s mom appeared in the doorway, a phone against her ear. “Come inside, you two. I’m calling the police.”
“Mom, they could still be here,” protested Byron. “Dad and I are going to look around.”
“No, Byron, your mother’s right. This is a job for the police. They’ll take care of it,” said his dad.
“Yeah, right,” snorted Garnet. She wheeled around and disappeared from the window.
“C’mon, son. Let’s go inside and leave this for the authorities,” said Mr. Hopper, putting a hand on Byron’s shoulder. With a final hostile look around, Byron followed his dad back into the house, slamming the door behind him.
I jumped the fence back onto the sidewalk and took off. I wasn’t going to be around when the police arrived. I didn’t stop running until I was standing safely in front of the school, chest heaving.