by L.A. Jones
Chapter Nine
The first thing Aradia did for the party was lie to her parents. She never liked doing it, but she felt like she had no choice. She told them she was going over to Rhonda's for the night, and Rhonda was happy to corroborate her story. Liza, who was in the area anyway, picked them up from the mall, made a quick pit stop for Aradia to get her toothbrush and a change of clothes, and dropped the pair off at Rhonda’s house.
“Thanks for the ride, Mrs. Preston,” Rhonda had said. Aradia hadn’t had the guts to comment. She just kept her eyes low and hoped her mom didn’t see how guilty she felt.
With a heavy conscience Aradia emptied the party clothes out of her backpack onto Rhonda’s bed.
"I still wish you were coming with me to this thing," Aradia grumbled as she squeezed into a turquoise, shimmery halter-top.
"Oh c'mon Rai, you'll be alright. I bet you’ll have a great time!" Rhonda said as she handed Aradia a black mini skirt.
"Oh, hell no!" Aradia cried out. “I am so not wearing a mini skirt to this party."
"Why not?" Rhonda asked.
"I don't know anyone there! The last thing I want to do is give people the wrong impression. Besides, have you ever tried wearing one of those things?”
“Of course I have. It’s my mini skirt I’m offering you,” she replied, smiling.
“Yeah, well, then you know they’re uncomfortable as hell."
Aradia pulled on black jean shorts with glittery rhinestones on them.
"Yeah, I’ll give you that,” Rhonda admitted.
Aradia worked on a knot in her hair as she replied, "It is sad how some girls think it’s better to look good than to feel good. Just ask the runway models or the women who marry rich men and end up becoming alcoholics."
She reached for her pink and black heelless slip-on Pumas, but Rhonda headed her off and grabbed them. "No way. You are not wearing those old things!”
“I love my Pumas!”
“I’m sure you do, but you’re not wearing them to the party! Here, wear these." She thrust a pair of fancy white flats at her.
Aradia stared at the shoes skeptically, then at Rhonda.
Rhonda counter attacked with pleading puppy dog eyes.
"Okay, okay! I'll wear 'em," Aradia grumbled finally, mostly just to make her stop.
Aradia sat on the floor and struggled with the shoes. After a few grunts, she succeeded in figuring out the straps. She stood, pleased with herself, but when she looked in the mirror she pulled a face of disgust.
“What?” Rhonda asked. “You look beautiful. And hot.”
"No," Aradia argued, “I look like a slut. Worse, I don't look like myself."
“Wouldn’t it be worse if you looked like a slut and did look like yourself?”
Aradia glared at her friend.
"Hey! Sorry! But really, isn't that the point?" Rhonda asked.
Aradia sighed and said, "Maybe. I think that’s the saddest part of the entire situation."
The party started at nine. By about quarter past, Rhonda had helped Aradia sneak out of the house. It was not far to Jayce's; nothing in Salem was too far from anything else, really. Aradia still wished the walk was shorter, though. She felt creeped out walking on the sidewalk bordering the woods.
She usually felt at home out in nature, and given her strength and resilience she’d never much been afraid of the dark. These woods were different somehow. She couldn’t shake the weird feeling that there was someone out there in the dark, watching her. She did not know if it was one of her powers or just a gut feeling.
According to the directions Rhonda had given her, she was almost at the party. The dim glow over the next hill must have been Jayce’s house.
She was now sure that someone was following her, hunting her. She could hear him, or her, in the rustling of branches and the crinkling of leaves on the ground. Aradia stopped, whipped around, and stared into the dark woods. Her eyes swiftly adjusted as she looked around apprehensively.
She could hear a sound that wasn’t trees or leaves. It was low and deep breathing, almost a growl. It’s got to be your imagination, she reassured herself, but that just wasn’t right, and she knew it. She edged closer to the nearest cluster of bushes. She moved slowly, focusing on the breathing, which seemed to be getting louder.
Suddenly, Aradia heard twigs snapping right beside her. Quickly she turned to meet the sound. A figure rushed her.
Aradia raised her arm to strike at his head.
She only barely stopped herself before she struck him clean on the jaw.
“Whoa!” Jayce said playfully as he caught her arm. “You wouldn’t want to have to use more of that magic cream on me.”
Aradia was terribly embarrassed, and almost wished he really had been an assailant.
“Oh, Jayce! Hi!” she said awkwardly.
"I’m glad you’re here, Aradia. I've been waiting for you! C'mon, I can't wait to introduce you to my friends." Still holding her arm, Jayce slid one of his hands into hers and practically dragged her to the house.
It was loud and noisy, a typical high school party. It was Aradia’s first, of course, but she assumed it was typical based on what she’d seen on TV and in movies. The party was complete with music, beer, and smoking, mostly cigarettes. Empty 24-packs of Milwaukee’s Best and PBR littered the kitchen and dining room. Considering her father was a criminal lawyer, Aradia decided not to take notice of every activity that was going on at the house for fear she might get prosecuted for guilt by association.
"You look nice, by the way," Jayce said, sweeping his gaze over Aradia from head to toe for probably the third or fourth time.
Aradia blushed, which Jayce noticed.
He draped his arm across her shoulders and said, "Aw, c'mon now, Aradia. You make it seem like you never got paid a compliment before."
"You know, I’m starting to think hookers made up that phrase,” said Aradia.
"Uh, what?" asked Jayce, perplexed. He hadn’t been expecting that response.
"The phrase 'paid a compliment.' I think hookers made it up. I'll tell you why. They invented it as an encouragement to their customers and to make sure nobody ever stiffed them!"
Aradia realized her joke probably wasn’t as funny as she had meant it to be. In fact, she wasn’t even sure it made sense. Suddenly she felt very uncomfortable and very out of place.
Jayce, however, threw his head back and laughed. "You know what I like about you, Aradia?"
"No, but I would like to," she cracked, grabbing the lifeline he was offering.
"You just say whatever you’re thinking. Most people don’t talk like you do," Jayce replied. “And you can make me laugh.”
"Well," Aradia said, tossing her hair playfully. "That's kind of the point of being funny."
"I think it's kind of cool,” he said. Leaning in toward her ear, he added in a whisper, "And kind of sexy."
Aradia shivered despite the warmth of being huddled under Jayce's arm. Once again she thought that maybe coming here hadn’t been such a good idea.