I freaked and watched motionless, like time was standing still. Right before my eyes was my idol of all living idols, Anne Rice!
She glowed like a movie star, a Gothic angel, a heavenly creature. Her long black hair flowed over her shoulders and glistened; she wore a golden headband, a long, flowing silky skirt, and a fabulous vampirish, dark cloak. I was speechless. I thought I might go into shock.
Fortunately my mom's never speechless.
"Could my daughter please have your autograph?"
"Sure," the queen of nocturnal adventures sweetly replied.
I walked toward her, as if my marshmallow legs would melt under the sun at any moment. After she signed a yellow Post-it note my mom found in her purse, the Gothic starlet and I were standing beside each other, smiling, her arm around my waist.
Anne Rice had agreed to take a picture with me!
I had never smiled like that in my life. She probably smiled like she'd smiled a million times before. A moment she'll never remember, a moment I'll never forget.
Why didn't I tell her I loved her books? Why didn't I tell her how much she meant to me? That I thought she had a handle on things like no one else did?
I screamed with excitement for the rest of the day, reenacting the scene over and over for my dad and Nerd Boy at our antique- filled, pastel pink bed-and-breakfast. It was our first day in New Orleans, and I was ready to go home. Who cared about a stupid aquarium, the French Quarter, blues bands, and Mardi Gras beads when I'd just seen a vampire angel?
I waited all day to get the film developed, only to find that the picture of me and Anne Rice didn't come out. Sullen, I retreated back to the hotel with my mother. Despite the fact she and I had appeared in photographs separately, could it be possible that the combination of the two vampire-lovers couldn't be captured on film? Or rather it was just a reminder that she was a brilliant bestselling writer, and I was a screamy, dreamy child going through a dark phase. Or maybe it was that my mom was a lousy photographer.
Chapter 3 Monster Mash
My Sweet Sixteenth birthday. Shouldn't all birthdays be sweet? Why should sixteen be any sweeter? It seemed like a lot of hype to me!
In Dullsville, they celebrate today, my sixteenth birthday, as any other day.
It all started with Nerd Boy's shouting at me. "Get up, Raven. You don't want to be late. It's time for school!"
How could two kids come from the same parents and be so different? Maybe there is something to that theory about the mailman. But in Nerd Boy's case my mother must have had an affair with the librarian.
I dragged myself out of bed and put on a black, cotton sleeveless dress and black hiking boots, and outlined my full lips with black lipstick.
Two white-flowered cakes, one in the shape of a 1 and the other in the shape of a 6, awaited me on the kitchen table.
I grazed the 6 cake with my index finger and licked the icing off.
"Happy birthday!" my mom said, kissing me. "That's for tonight, but you can have this now," she said handing me a package.
"Happy birthday, Rave," my dad said, also giving me a kiss on the cheek.
"I bet you have no idea what you're giving me," I teased my dad as I held the package.
"No. But I'm sure it cost a lot."
I shook the light package in my hand and heard a rattle. I stared at the Happy Birthday wrapping paper. It could be the keys to a car-- my very own Batmobile! After all, it was my sixteenth birthday. "I wanted to buy you something special," my mom said, smiling.
I ripped the package open excitedly and lifted the jewelry box lid. A string of shiny white pearls stared back at me.
"Every girl should have a pearl necklace for special occasions." My mom gleamed.
This was my mom's corporate version of hippie love beads. I forced a crooked smile as I tried to hide my disappointment. "Thanks," I said, hugging them both. I began to put the necklace back in the box, but my parents glared at me, so I reluctantly modeled it for them.
"It looks gorgeous on you." My mom glowed.
"I'll save them for something really special," I replied, putting them back in the box.
The doorbell rang, and Becky came in with a small black gift bag.