“Don’t stay out too late,” Ivy said. “We’re leaving for Black Ridge early tomorrow morning.”
“Don’t worry,” Xavier promised. “I’ll have her home by the time the clock strikes midnight.”
Gabriel shook his head. “Must the two of you embody every cliché 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 all on the cusp of graduating and shaping our futures. It was the start of a new life and while we hoped it would be full of promise, we couldn’t help but feel a degree of nostalgia for all we’d be leaving behind. College life with all 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 fell through the window, illuminating 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 really pushing your luck tonight,” Xavier said in mock seriousness. “I’m a cowboy on the edge!” I laughed, not fully understanding the reference. I could have asked him for an explanation but all 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 followed a battered pickup truck full of senior boys calling themselves the “wolf pack.” I wasn’t sure what that meant, but they were all 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 expelled the contents of his stomach, he straightened up and kept right on running.
The house itself reflected the Halloween 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 collapsing 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 lolled 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 playfully. “That’s not even funny! Besides, the girls think it’s healthy for us to spend some time apart.”
“Well, 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 spilled off the wide hallway. I knew drunken couples probably occupied them, but the darkness was still unnerving. We made our way down the corridor, weaving past bodies all decked in various outfits. Some had gone all out in terms of costumes. I caught flashes of vampire teeth, devil horns, and plenty of fake blood. Someone really tall 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 all 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 filled with music so loud it shook the dusty chandelier above us.
We picked our way through the crowd and found Molly 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. Molly had stuck with her original idea and come as Tinker Bell in a green dress, tattered at the hem, ballet flats, and a pair of fairy wings. But she had chosen her accessories carefully and in keeping with the spirit of Halloween. 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 Bell. Solid effort, Molls,” 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,” Molly 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 collective and uninterrupted war cry. I heard them greeting Xavier in the hall.