Part 3 (1/2)

It was time to get down to business. ”Wanna see why I don't wear white? Wanna fly with me?”

”Yeah.” He smiled, sort of startled, but very eager. ”I bet you fly like Supergirl!”

I urged him over the picket fence into the woods. I could obviously see better than he. My nocturnal habits had always made me a great observer in the dark. Not as good as a cat, but close. I felt safe and secure, with the beautiful moon now guiding me. I looked up and saw several bats fluttering over the trees. I'd never seen bats in Dullsville. But I didn't go to that many parties, either.

”I can't see,” Trevor said, removing a branch from his hair.

As we walked on, he flailed his arms like he was going to hit something. Some people are violent drunks; some are s...o...b..ring drunks. But Trevor was a terrified drunk. He was really becoming quite unattractive.

”Let's stop here,” he said.

”No, just a little bit further,” I said, following the bats as they flew into the woods. ”It's my sixteenth birthday. I want this to be a night I'll never forget! We need total privacy.”

”This is plenty private,” he said, groping around and trying to kiss me.

”We're almost there,” I said, tugging him on. The lights from the house could no longer be seen, and we couldn't walk five steps without hitting a tree.

”This is perfect!” I finally said.

He squeezed me hard, not because he loved me, but because he was afraid. It was pathetic.

There was a gentle wind blowing through the trees, and the smell of autumn leaves. I heard bats chirping high overhead. The full moon illuminated their wings. It would have been romantic, if only I had had a real boyfriend with me.

Trevor was completely blind in the darkness, feeling everything with his hands and lips. He kissed me all over my face and touched the small of my back. Even blind, it didn't take him long to find the b.u.t.tons on my s.h.i.+rt.

”No, you first,” I told him.

I lifted off his sweater, as unclumsily as I could. I had never done this before. He was wearing a V-neck T-s.h.i.+rt underneath and an unders.h.i.+rt underneath that. This is going to take forever, I thought.

I felt his naked chest. Why not? It was right in front of me. It was soft and smooth and muscular.

He pulled me closer, my lacy black rayon s.h.i.+rt touching his naked torso.

”Now you, baby. I want you so bad,” he said, straight out of some skin flick on cable.

”Me too, baby.” I sighed, rolling my eyes.

I leaned him down slowly on the damp earth. I slid off his loafers and socks. He eagerly took off the rest.

He lay propped up on his arms, completely naked. I stared down at him in the faint moonlight, savoring the moment. How many girls had Mr. Gorgeous laid out by a tree, only to cast them aside the next day? I wasn't the first and I wasn't going to be the last. I was just going to be different.

”Hurry up-come over here,” he said. ”I'm cold!”

”I'll just be a minute. I don't want you to see me undress.”

”I can't see you! I can't even see my own hands!”

”Well, just hang on.”

I had Trevor Mitch.e.l.l's clothes in my arms. His sweater, V-neck, unders.h.i.+rt, khakis, socks, loafers, and underwear. I had his power. His mask. I had his whole life. What was a girl to do?

This girl ran. I ran so hard, like I had never run before. Like I had been training every day in gym cla.s.s. If Mr. Harris could have seen me then, he surely would have put me on the track team.

The bats flew off, too, as if they were in sync with my movements. I quickly reached the house, Trevor's ensemble wadded in my arms. The sn.o.bs drinking on the back porch were too busy talking about their shallow lives to notice me emptying a trash bag half filled with beer cans and stuffing in Trevor's clothes.

I carried the bag into the house and grabbed a startled Becky by the arm. She was delivering beer to a table of poker players.

”Where were you?” she screamed. ”I couldn't find you anywhere! I was forced to wait on these creeps! Back and forth-beer, chips, beer, chips. And now cigars! Raven, where am I supposed to get cigars?”

”Forget about cigars! We've gotta run!”

”Hey, toots, where are those pretzels?” a drunken jock demanded.

”The bar is closed!” I said in his face. ”Great service demands a great tip!” I grabbed his poker earnings and stuffed them into Becky's purse. ”Time to go!” I said, pulling her away.

”What's in the bag?” she asked.

”Trash, what else?”

I pushed her out the front door. The nice thing about not having friends was there was no one to say good-bye to. ”What happened?” she kept asking as I pulled her across the front yard. Her ten-year-old pickup truck sat at the end of the street, waiting for us like home base. ”Where were you, Raven? You have leaves in your hair.”

I waited until we were halfway home before I turned to her with a huge grin and shouted, ”I screwed Trevor Mitch.e.l.l!”

”You did what?” she shouted back, almost swerving off the road. ”With who?”

”I screwed Trevor Mitch.e.l.l.”

”You didn't! You couldn't! You wouldn't!”

”No, I mean figuratively. I screwed him so bad, Becky, and I have the clothes to prove it!” And I pulled them out of the trash bag one by one.

We laughed and shrieked as Becky turned a corner near Benson Hill.

Somehow Trevor would find his way out of the darkness. But he wouldn't have his rich threads to mask himself. He'd be naked, cold, alone. Exposed for who he really was.

I would remember my Sweet Sixteenth birthday for the rest of my life and now Trevor Mitch.e.l.l would, too.

As we drove along the desolate country road that twisted around Benson Hill, the headlights shone against the creepy trees. Moths attacked the winds.h.i.+eld as if warning us to choose another way.

”The Mansion's totally dark,” I said as we approached it. ”Wanna stop for a look-see?”

”Your birthday's over,” Becky said in an exhausted voice, keeping her foot on the gas pedal. ”We'll go next year.”

Suddenly the headlights illuminated a figure standing in the middle of the road.

”Watch out!” I yelled.