7.
Dancing with the Dead Alexander and I arrived at the Coffin Club to find Phoenix"s motorcycle already parked in the VIP spot. ?Wow, that"s a cool bike,? Alexander commented when we pa.s.sed it. ?What do you think??
?I think it"s cool, but not half as cool as you are,? I replied, squeezing his hand as we continued to walk by the procession of clubgoers.
I imagined Phoenix waltzing into the club as if he were royalty while my boyfriend and I stood at the back of the line.
But really, where else on earth would I rather be? Alexander was by my side, and soon I would have my wish come true. It would be a night to remember.
Still, I couldn"t help but let my mind stray. Alexander, after all, was a vampire. He could get a key and lifetime membership to the Dungeon in two shakes of a fang. However, if I told
Alexander I"d already been there, without him, he"d be furious. And he would know I"d been to the underground club if I mentioned seeing Jagger. As far as Alexander knew, Jagger had returned to Romania, and likewise Jagger probably thought Alexander was back in Dullsville. It wasn"t my place to disclose their locations. I"d caused Alexander enough problems in the past-I had led Jagger from Hipsterville right to Alexander. It would be difficult, but I"d have to keep my black lips sewn shut.
Alexander and I proudly entered the Coffin Club, hand in hand, like we were stars entering a party. We were so used to being outsiders, it felt good to finally enter a place filled with people who looked just like us.
I felt euphoric standing underneath the lifeless mannequins with my very own vampire boyfriend. The crowd and music were even more pumped up than they were the previous night.
This time the clubsters weren"t so focused on themselves. In fact, the girls were ogling my date!
At first I thought it was fun, as if I"d arrived on the arm of a rock star. After a few minutes of every cleavage-showing, miniskirt-wearing girl checking him out, I was getting jealous. Didn"t they know I was standing right next to him? A few guys looked me over, but every girl we pa.s.sed stared at Alexander like he was Criss Angel performing magic.
Finally I drew him over to the bar. ?Don"t you notice that??
?Notice what?? he asked naively.
?The girls??
?What girls??
?h.e.l.lo! You were worried about bringing me to a bar when all along I should have been concerned about bringing you.?
?I don"t know what you are talking about,? he said seriously.
?The girls are drooling all over you!?
Alexander blushed, then laughed gently.
?Well, there is only one girl I want to be with and she"s right here,? he said.
The bartender, a robust woman who appeared to have been bartending since they invented beer, asked us for our drink order.
Alexander and I cooled off with nonalcoholic Guillotines.
Alexander looked heavenly against the backdrop of neon tombstones, his soulful eyes gently gazing into mine. He appeared as happy as I"d ever seen him, as if he didn"t want to be anywhere else in the world but together at this club. His arm lay protectively around me, our fingers entwined. Yet I felt a pang of loneliness for Alexander. He spent so much time up in his attic room, alone, whether in Dullsville or Hipsterville, his only full-time companion being his creepy yet caring butler. I was excited to be part of Alexander"s night life tonight.
Of course, I couldn"t help but wonder what was going on down in the Dungeon. Were new members being brought in? Where were they from? Were Phoenix and Jagger getting in each other"s faces? I was dying to share the underground club with Alexander, but a culture full of bloodthirsty vampires is exactly what Alexander had left behind in Romania. He was much happier in an environment where mortals dressed like vampires rather than one where vampires dressed like mortals. And even if I"d wanted to, I wasn"t sure I"d be able to find the secret coffin- shaped door.
?You seem distracted,? Alexander remarked.
?I was just thinking of you, actually.?
?Well, you don"t have to think about me. I"m right here.? He leaned over and gave me a lip-lock that sent shivers down to my boots.
He placed our drinks on the bar, grabbed my hand, and led me to the dance floor.
For the next hour, we danced, thrashed, and jammed, all the while forgetting the difference between mortal and immortal.
As the DJ spun the end of one song into the start of another, I took a moment to catch my breath. Stretching out my neck, I spotted a figure up on the balcony, seated on a coffin-shaped couch, the candelabra before him illuminating his ghost white hair, the ends bloodred.
I grabbed Alexander by the arm and dragged him to another end of the dance floor, hidden from the balcony"s view. I didn"t want Jagger to spill the beans to Alexander that I"d been spotted at the Dungeon. I wanted to tell Alexander on my own.
?What did you do that for??
?I just thought it would be fun if we got cozy.?
?But it"s so crowded back here, it"s hard to breathe. Why don"t we go over there and relax,? he suggested, pointing to couches on the side of the dance floor.
?That"s all right...?
?You look a bit tired. It"s okay if we take a break.? He pulled me out from underneath the balcony"s overhang.
Alexander was heading for the main part of the dance floor, in full view of the balcony.
?No,? I said, tugging him back.
?What"s wrong??
?I want to sit down.?
?But the seats are over there.?
Alexander looked at me with curious and confused eyes. If I told him that Jagger was still in town, he"d stay in Hipsterville even longer. I"d be forcing him to remain in town indefinitely, perhaps longer than whatever was mysteriously holding him here in the first place.
?C"mon,? he said. ?Let"s go.?
But I was more concerned about Alexander"s safety. Even though he and Jagger had reconciled, I wasn"t sure how Jagger would react to our presence in the club. ?I just saw...? I began. ?I mean, I think I saw...?
?Saw what??
?I just saw Jagger!?
Alexander paused. ?Here, in the club??
I nodded. ?When I visited Hipsterville a few months ago, I first encountered Jagger sitting in the balcony when I thought Romeo was leading me to you. That"s where Jagger is right now.?
?What"s he doing up there?? Alexander asked.
?I was afraid if I told you Jagger was above us on the balcony, you"d never come back to Dullsville. But if he saw you dancing here when he thinks you"ve left town, I don"t know what would happen.?
Alexander led me back underneath the balcony and leaned against one of its pillars.
?It"s okay,? he said, brushing my sticky hair away from my face. ?I"ll go back to Dullsville whether Jagger is here or in Romania.?
I lit up. ?Really??
?You have my word.?
I pulled him into me, my fingers wrapped around his T-shirt, and kissed him with all my might. I stared into his dark eyes. Maybe it was time to tell Alexander about the real Coffin Club.
?I have something to tell you.?
?I do, too. I"d rather Jagger not know I"m here.?
?But after all you"ve done for his family. The least he could do is buy you a drink. I really need to-?
?Let"s not tempt fate. It"s best that he thinks I"m back in Dullsville.?
?Uh...okay.?
?Now, what were you going to tell me??
?It"s time for another dance.?
8.
Inner Goth After Alexander gave me a kiss good night outside Aunt Libby"s apartment, he admitted he had prior plans with Jameson and wouldn"t be able to meet the following evening. I was disappointed, but since I hadn"t given Alexander any warning of my arrival in Hipsterville, I tried to be mature. Though I was totally b.u.mmed out my boyfriend and I would have a night apart, I hadn"t spent any time with Aunt Libby. We were due some family bonding time.
The following day, as usual, I got up late. Fortunately for me, Aunt Libby was not a morning person, either. By the time I woke up and dragged myself out of the cozy confines of her down comforter, I found my aunt wearing a knee-length kimono robe, drinking herbal tea, and listening to NPR.
?It"s after two,? I said, noticing her stove clock. I was shocked I"d slept as long as I did but even more surprised that my aunt was still not dressed.
?Well, you had a particularly long day yesterday. And I chose to have a lazy day, too.?
Aunt Libby poured me a cup of coffee and fixed me a veggie sandwich.
?I have the perfect place to take you tonight,? she said, placing the plate in front of me.
?You don"t have a hot date tonight with Devon?? I teased.
?Not until tomorrow night. And I told him you were coming with me.?
?Not on your life!?
?Sorry, but he"s taking us both to the Summer Arts Festival.?
?Well, you have twenty-four hours to convince me that that is a good idea,? I said between bites. ?So what are we going to do??
?There"s a club here in town that has teen night from nine until eleven.?
I rolled my eyes. I imagined a Chuck E. Cheese"s with a dis...o...b..ll.
?It"s called the Coffin Club,? my aunt exclaimed.
?Excuse me??
?It has your name written all over it. I don"t mean the coffin part, of course. But it"s very goth and I think you"d enjoy it.?
?I"d love to go!?
?I"m a bit old to be hanging out there, but hey, why not??
That"s why Aunt Libby was so special-she didn"t care what people thought. Ever since I was a little girl, my aunt marched to her own drum, African or not.
?So we have a few hours to find something appropriate for me to wear,? my aunt stated.
?I don"t have anything darker than yellow.?
Whatever my Aunt Libby did, whether it was drumming so hard she got calluses or performing so much she lost her voice, she put forth 110 percent. Hanging out at a nightclub with her sixteen-year-old niece was no exception.
?Where are we going?? I asked as we hopped into her car. ?Hot Gothics??
Aunt Libby let out a loud laugh. ?I have to find something that I can fit into, right??
A few minutes later, we were driving into a gravel parking lot and walking up the stairs of the vacant elementary school, which was now home to the Village Players Theater.
Along with a car key, mailbox key, building key, and door key, my aunt possessed a Village Players Theater key. It took her a minute or two to figure out which key opened the front entrance door, but she eventually found it.
We sauntered down the main hallway, pa.s.sing Village Players posters of West Side Story, The Sound of Music, and South Pacific, an empty princ.i.p.al"s office, and a cafeteria.