If Aunt Mary had seen Juliet now she would have clutched her rosary, crossed herself and fallen on her knees in prayer. And probably tried to have Juliet committed to a nunnery.
Juliet had got dressed for Hallowe’en earlier that evening at Fhemie’s house, along with Margot. Two slutty witches and a slutty witch’s cat, since Fhemie with her dancer’s physique looked awesome in a skin tight leotard. She wore a little pair of cat ears and had a tail swishing from her butt.
Juliet’s costume was made of black and purple satin low cut in the neckline above a fitted bodice. Shredded strips of satin and gauze formed the skirt, going all the way up her thighs. She was worried that it was a bit too much.
“Everything is practically hanging out everywhere,” she complained.
“Yeah, that’s why it’s Slutty Witch,” Fhemie said. “It’s like bad luck not to look slutty on Hallowe’en. It keeps ghosts away.”
She waved goodbye to her mother, who was talking on the phone to Fhemie’s grandmother in Tagalog. Fhemie grinned, translating for them. “She’s just reassuring Granny that I’m doing well and attending to my Bible studies.”
“Thank God it’s not a video call or you’d give your grandmother a stroke, wearing that,” Margot said.
The three of them were going to a party being held not far from Dover Avenue where Juliet’s new band rehearsed. It was the usual scene: much drunkenness, people falling into a swimming pool, couples making out all over the place.
“A proper Hallowe’en orgy,” Fhemie said, satisfied. She disappeared into a nearby bedroom with a cute Hispanic guy soon after they arrived and the others didn’t see her again for hours.
Terrance, the guy Margot was now dating, was interstate that weekend. They weren’t officially exclusive but Margot was hoping it might get that way, so she had decided to stay away from other guys that night.
It was hard though: the slutty witch costumes that she and Juliet were wearing attracted a lot of attention.
“There’s nothing stopping you,” Margot said to Juliet after she had brushed off yet another guy.
“I know. I guess I’m just not in the mood.”
Margot looked at her evilly. “And I know why. You can’t get a certain someone out of your head, can you?”
Juliet tried to deny it but it was obviously true.
“Never mix business with pleasure. You’ve made a fatal mistake,” Margot told her. “You should have stayed dispassionate. Reeled him in, spat him out, and collected the money.”
They had both already had too much of the Hallowe’en Punch and this loosened Juliet’s lips. “He lives not far from here,” she said.
“What? How the hell do you know that?!”
Juliet shrugged. “He mentioned it once. When he gave me a lift in the rain that time.”
“What’s the street name?” Margot asked.
A plan was already ticking over in Margot’s head but Juliet was getting too fuzzy to think straight. She wandered off to get them both some more punch and bumped into a guy, sending the drinks flying. “Hey! Sorry.” He thought the collision was his fault.
“No problem, it was me who tripped,” Juliet told him. He looked vaguely familiar but she couldn’t place him. While she was struggling to put a name to the face, he recognised her.
“It’s Juliet, right? Under the make-up?”
Of course! It was the bass player from the band.
“It is.” She apologised for not recognising him straight away and they chatted for a few moments before Juliet returned to where Margot was, having fetched two new glasses of punch. Margot’s had a slice of apple floating in it, which she took out and licked the juice from.
“So? Who was that guy?”
“Just someone. I bumped into him by accident,” Juliet told her.
“It looked like you knew him.”
Juliet didn’t want to lie outright. “I think I’ve seen him around somewhere.”
The evening drew on and somewhere after eleven o’clock Fhemie appeared, looked a little dishevelled with a wicked smile on her face. “Such a great party!”
“How would you know, you spent the entire night in a bedroom,” Juliet said.
Fhemie just grinned. “So where are we going next? Another party? A bar?”
Margot looked mysterious. “We’re going for a little walk. To Aspen Drive.”
Juliet had protested all the way. They couldn’t just rock up at Mr Spencer’s house. He might have company. He’d probably be asleep. She didn’t know the actual house number anyway.
“You know his car? If he’s in, it will be parked outside,” Margot said.
Juliet, as influenced by alcohol as she was, still managed to feel that this was a really bad idea. She even tried arguing that Baptists didn’t do Hallowe’en. “It’s Satanic or blasphemous or something to them.”
“So? We’re the ones celebrating it, not him,” Fhemie said. She loved the idea.
The coolness of the night air was sobering Juliet up and she was feeling worse and worse about this plan. But no one would pay any attention to her concerns. To numb her nerves, she had thrown down a couple more glasses of punch before Margot and Fhemie practically frogmarched her down the road.
Once there, they walked down and Juliet felt her insides melting when she recognised his car. Remembering the brief ride she had taken in it. Knowing he’d be inside the house right now - there was a glow from a downstairs window still on, so hopefully he was still up. She really didn’t want to wake him up.
They walked up the driveway to the front porch.
“Go on then,” Fhemie said. “Knock on his door.”
The punch had made Juliet feel a lot bolder. She gave a sharp rap and they waited until the door was opened. Mr Spencer stood there, wearing jeans and a casual shirt. They hadn’t seen him out of the smarter slacks and tie he wore for school before, as well as at church.
Juliet smiled at him, her eyes glinting. “Trick or treat?”
He was disconcerted. “I’ve run out of candy, there were so many kids coming round earlier. Isn’t it a bit late for you three to be out?”
“It’s not midnight yet,” Fhemie pointed out.
“So, trick or treat?” Juliet asked him, looking alluringly up at him.
“I guess a trick then, since I’m out of treats. Just don’t destroy my car or anything.”
Juliet took a step towards him and leaned towards him. She saw his eyes fall on her neckline and back to her face. He looked very uncomfortable. “Or you can have the treat,” she whispered.
Mr Spencer froze as she reached up and brushed her lips against his, light as a feather, inhaling his scent. His lips were warm and dry and she wanted to kiss him more deeply but didn’t dare.
She could feel the tension in him, he was wound up, tightly coiled. If the others hadn’t been there she might have tried to go further. The alcohol had loosened her inhibitions and all she wanted was to be with him, making out with him, having his hands all over her body.
Juliet felt herself tingling, an ache between her legs, just from the brief contact. She was amazed that just kissing him - barely kissing him even - could turn her on so much.
As she gazed back at him, her lips parted from the embrace, his face was frozen. He didn’t even speak.
She wondered if he felt anywhere near the same that she did. His body looked so hard and masculine, he was so much taller than her. Had he responded in the same way or was he in complete control, indifferent to her?
“Goodnight then,” she said, smiling once more.
Then she left with the others, leaving Carl at his door. Both Fhemie and Margot were silent, suppressing both surprise and laughter, more shocked than they had expected to be. After all, Juliet had just kissed a teacher while drunk.