A few nights later, after a dinner of Pop-Tarts and Alpha-Bits cereal, Tully took a long, hot shower, shaved her legs and underarms carefully, and dried her hair until it fell straight from her center part without a single crease or curl. Then she went to her closet and stood there, trying to figure out what to wear. This was her first high school party. She needed to look just right. None of the other girls from the junior high had been invited. She was The One. Pat Richmond, the best-looking guy on the football team, had chosen Tully for his date. They'd been at the local hamburger hangout last Wednesday night, his group of friends and hers. All it had taken was one look between them. Pat had broken free of the crowd of huge guys and walked right over to Tully.
She'd seen him heading her way and practically fainted. On the jukebox, "Stairway to Heaven" had been playing. Talk about romantic.
"I could get in trouble just for talking to you," he said.
She tried to look mature and worldly as she said, "I like trouble."
The smile he gave her was like nothing she'd ever seen before. For the first time in her life, she felt as beautiful as people always said she was.
"You wanna come to the party with me on Friday?"
"I could make that work," she said. It was a phrase she'd heard Erica Kane use onAll My Children.
"I'll pick you up at ten." He leaned closer. "Unless that's past your curfew, little girl?"
"Seventeen Firefly Lane. And I don't have a curfew."
He smiled again. "I'm Pat, by the way."
"I'm Tully."
"Well, Tully, I'll see you at ten."
Tully still couldn't believe it. For the past forty-eight hours she'd obsessed over this first real date. All the other times she'd gone out with boys it was in a group or to a school dance. This was totally different, and Pat was practically a man.
They could fall in love; she knew it. And then, with him holding her hand, she'd stop feeling so alone.
She finally made her clothes choice.
Low-rise, three-button bell-bottom jeans, a pink scoop-necked knit top that showed off her cleavage, and her favorite cork platforms. She spent almost an hour on her makeup, layering more and more on until she looked foxy. She couldn't wait to show Pat how pretty she could be.
She grabbed a pack of her mom's cigarettes and left her bedroom.
In the living room, Mom looked up blearily from her magazine. "Hey, iss almos' ten o'clock. Where are you going?"
"This guy invited me to a party."
"Is he here?"
Right. Like Tully would invite anyone to come in. "I'm meeting him on the road."
"Oh. Cool. Don't wake me up when you get home."
"I won't."
Outside, it was dark and cold. The Milky Way stretched across the sky in a path of starlight.
She waited by her mailbox on the main road, moving from foot to foot to keep warm. Goose bumps pebbled her bare arms. The mood ring on her middle finger changed from green to purple. She tried to remember what that meant.
Across the street and up the hill, the pretty little farmhouse glowed against the darkness. Each window was like a pat of warm, melting butter. They were probably all at home, clustered around a big table, playing Risk. She wondered what they'd do if she just visited one day, showed up on the porch and said hey.
She heard Pat's car before she saw the headlights. At the roar of the engine, she forgot all about the family across the street and stepped into the road, waving.
His green Dodge Charger came to a stop beside her; the car seemed to pulse with sound, vibrate. She slid into the passenger seat. The music was so loud she knew he couldn't hear what she said.
Grinning at her, Pat hit the gas and they were off like a rocket, blasting down the quiet country lane.
As they turned onto a gravel road, she could see the party going on below. Dozens of cars were parked in a huge circle in a pasture, with their headlights on. Bachman-Turner Overdrive's "Taking Care of Business" blared from someone's car radio. Pat parked over in the stand of trees along the fence line.
