Tales of Aradia The Last Witch Volume 1 (12 page)

“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.

Chapter
Ten

An hour later, Aradia
crunched her empty Fanta can in frustration and stomped off toward
the food table. Half of it was stocked with chips, pretzels, and
near-empty pizza boxes. The other half of the table was covered in
puke. Somebody had thoughtfully removed whatever food had been
stationed on that side.

Aradia grimaced as she
reached into a bowl of Doritos, and prayed that they’d had been
spared from the partygoer's drunken rampage. After stuffing a
handful into her mouth, she chewed thoughtfully and cast her eyes
around the room.

Jayce’s house was
impressive. It was large and well-decorated. Aradia wondered if his
dad had handled the décor, or maybe they’d hired a professional
decorator. She also wondered whether his mom was in the picture at
all. She’d done some sleuthing, but couldn’t find anything too
telling. All the artwork was of elephants or abstract shapes, not
family portraits, and she didn’t dare invade the master bedroom to
check the closets. That was mostly out of respect for Jayce’s
family’s privacy, but also because the bedrooms seemed to be in
pretty much constant use.

Aradia glimpsed the
tiki bar by the pool.
Ah, well, when in
Rome
... she thought, and strolled out
toward it.

A group of guys and
girls, most of whom she did not recognize, was hanging by the bar.
One was pouring several rum and pineapple juice cocktails, mostly
rum with little more than a splash of pineapple. Before Aradia had
a chance to speak, the boy mixing drinks thrust one into her hands.
She noticed the guys were all drinking canned beer, and suddenly
the extra-high alcohol content in the fruity mixed drinks made
sense to her.

A loud cry of elation
seized her attention. She turned and saw five drunken football
players trying to tackle one another into the pool. One of them
suddenly broke away from the others, doubled up, and started
heaving his stomach into the bushes.

Aradia stared at the
chilly drink in her hand, then at the drunk dorks on parade, then
back at the drink.

"Forget this. If I’m
going make a fool of myself, I’ll go on a reality show where at
least I get paid."

"Wise choice," a
lightly accented voice chirped behind her.

Aradia spun around to
find Roy smiling at her.

"Roy, hey!" Aradia
cried out happily. "How are you? What are you doing
here?"

Roy shrugged and said,
"Trying to have a good time."

Aradia laughed and
asked, "How’s that going for you?"

Roy cocked his head to
the side, grinning sheepishly.

"Let’s say I’m hoping
it will turn around for me. I’m at a party that my brothers dragged
me to, where I don't know anybody. Instead of making out with a hot
girl like most guys here, I’m standing outside bothering a girl who
probably hates me."

"Say what?" Aradia's
eyes flew open in surprise.

"I know, pathetic,
isn't it?" Roy chuckled. Aradia couldn’t tell if this was some play
he was making on her, or if he was really that down on
himself.
Maybe somewhere in
between
.

Aradia shook her head
and said, "No, what I meant was, why do you think I hate
you?"

"You were polite and
all at the track, but the next day you didn’t want to have lunch
with me."

"Roy," Aradia argued,
"I was sitting with my friends."

"Friends," Roy scoffed.
"Sure.”

“I know you’re thinking
something. Go ahead and say it.”

“If you didn’t want to
sit with me, you could have just said it. That crowd, they are so
not your friends. They are geeks, they are…” Roy trailed off when
he caught the look Aradia was shooting him. “I’m not helping myself
here any, am I?"

"Roy," Aradia said
sternly, "I do not say bad things about your friends, so please
don’t say bad things about mine. The guys are smart and sweet.
They’re a little icky, at times, I’ll admit that, and I’m already
sick of Felix telling me about all the different colored Lantern
Corps, but they’re good people. And Rhonda’s cool! She’s a bit
nerdy, but so am I. They’re wonderful people and unlike you, they
don’t judge others so superficially. I mean, that’s what is wrong
with America. You can’t just–"

“Alright! Alright!”
said Roy, holding up his hands as if admitting defeat. “Chill,
Oprah Winfrey! Chill!”

Aradia grinned and
tucked a strand of her red hair behind her ear. Eventually, she
shrugged and asked him, “Look, let's just start over,
okay?”

“Only if that means you
forgive me for being kind of a jerk,” Roy said as he smiled in
response.

“Okay, so who is that?” Aradia
asked.

Roy squinted in the direction she was
pointing. “That’s Amber O’Shay. She’s part of the Salem High
marching band. She’s also Crystal’s best friend since
pre-school.”

After a bit of chit chat, Roy had
started giving Aradia the lay of the land on who was at the
party.

“And who’s Crystal?”

“Jayce’s girlfriend. They’ve been
together for a while now.”

Aradia nodded, trying to learn as many
of the personalities as she could as quickly as she could. A tall
kid with dull red hair walked past them precariously carrying five
beers. Aradia asked, “Who was that?”

“Oh, that was Connaer.”

“Irish?”

“Scottish. Family moved to America about
six years ago, I think. Cool accents. Connaer’s a senior. He’s been
trying to set up a Salem male derby league since his freshman year.
So far, it’s just him. He keeps trying though.”

“Gotta give him an A for effort, I
suppose. What about that guy?” she asked, pointing at another
student.

Roy gulped back the last of his soda,
and crushed the can in his hand. “That is Dylan Warner. He’s the
captain of the track team and Amber’s new boyfriend.”

“Everybody seems to have a boyfriend,”
Aradia grumbled.

Roy shifted his gaze awkwardly towards
the pool.

Aradia shrugged. “Oh well. If they are
happy, then I guess I’m happy. However,” she leaned in and
whispered into Roy’s ear, “somebody better tell him that the hickey
on his neck is pretty conspicuous.”