Not only was he going to deface their property, he was going to frame me for it. He shook the can once more. And began to spray the Mansion.
I rushed to my feet and pulled back my tennis racket. I used to play with my father, and no game was more important to win than this one. I locked my eyes on the aluminum paint-filled cylinder as if it were a ball, and smacked it as hard as I could. The can spun off into the distance, and, like my usual game, I lost my grip and the racket went flying after it. Trevor let out a yell so loud I thought the whole world would hear. I guess I had hit more than the can.
Suddenly the front door light came on, and I heard the jingle of locks being unlatched.
"We gotta get out of here!" I yelled to Trevor, who was crouching down, holding his wounded hand.
I was ready to make my escape when I felt something I had never felt before: a presence. I turned around and let out a soundless gasp, because fear had taken my breath away. I stood frozen.
There he was. Not Creepy Man. Not Mr. or Mrs. Mansion Family. But Gothic Guy, Gothic Mate, Gothic Prince. He stood before me, like a knight of night!
His long black hair lay heavy on his shoulders. His eyes were dark, deep, lovely, lonely, adoringly intelligent, dreamy. A gateway into his dark soul. He, too, stood motionless, breathing me in. His face was pale like mine and his tight black T-shirt was tucked into his black jeans, which were tucked into monster-chic punk-rock combat boots.
Normally fear is something I feel only when I know my mom's hosting a Mary Kay party and wants to use me as a model. But we were on private property, and my curiosity to meet this strange creature was overwhelmed by my terror of being caught.
The tennis shoes really were a good choice tonight. I could hear Trevor yelling at me as he followed me in flight, "You monster! You broke my hand!"
I raced through the open gate and climbed into the waiting Camaro.
"Drive me home!" I screamed. "Now!"
Matt was startled by his unexpected passenger. He just stared at me, in silent denial.
"Drive me now! Or I'll tell the police you were involved!"
"The police?" he blurted out. "What's Trevor got us into now?"
I could see the angry Count Trevor running down the driveway, his cape flowing in the wind. He was almost at the gate. Gothic Guy hadn't moved but continued to stare straight at me.
"Drive! Just drive the freakin' car!" I screamed at the top of my lungs.
The motor started and we peeled away until the Mansion and its unusual occupants were out of view. I turned around and looked out the back window at a shouting Dracula Trevor chasing after us.
"Happy Halloween," I said to Matt as I let out a sigh of relief.
Chapter 8 Looking for Trouble
I was making my way to history class when I spotted Trevor walking ahead of me. I noticed something unusual about his indoor ensemble-- he was wearing a golf glove on his right hand.
"Making a fashion statement?" I teased, catching up to him. "I guess it's a good thing you don't play soccer with your hands!"
He ignored my comments and continued to walk to class.
"Guess you'll have to miss a few sessions of graffiti club," I joked. "Since your trigger finger is out of commission."
He stopped and stared at me coldly. But he thought better of speaking and walked on.
Ouch! I guess I hurt more than his hand.
"I see you made it home safely," I continued, pursuing him. "Matt took great care of me. He's a perfect gentleman!"
But then I realized everything. I had taken away Trevor's pride, his girlfriends, and now had forced his best friend to betray him and side with the enemy. I felt sorry for him...almost.
Trevor paused, staring down at me like he was going to explode. But I was distracted by a strange figure talking to the secretary in the principal's office. It was Creepy Man! Standing pale in the bright fluorescent light, his long gray overcoat shrouding his skinny body. And hanging from his pale, bony hand was my dad's tennis racket.
I pulled a fuming Trevor to the wall, where we could safely overhear the conversation. "What are you doing?" Trevor asked, trying to wriggle away.
"Shhh! That's the butler from the Mansion!" I whispered, pointing.