Jessica
Laura DeLuca
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Jessica, Copyright ©2012, Laura DeLuca
Pagan Writers Press
Houston, Texas
ISBN: 978-1-938397-33-2
Edited by Rebecca Wolfe
Cover by Angelique Mroczka
https://paganwriterspress.com
Dedication
For Jessica Pirnik Gittle—I finally put your name in a story!
Jessica
Wilbur Kincade sipped cold coffee from a Styrofoam mug. He was just putting the final touches on his Dracula costume, which he planned to wear to his college’s annual Halloween Ball. After a while, he gave up on the plastic fangs because they cut into his gums, and settled on a trail of fake blood that cracked and itched once it dried. He sighed as he looked at his rather dismal reflection. The dance was starting in just a few minutes, but he was in no rush. Like every other formal of his college career, Wilbur would be going alone, and he would probably be leaving alone as well.
Wilbur liked to blame his single status on his name. He’d always hated it. It sounded like someone who did nothing but read history books and pop zits. Despite his dislike of the name, it was certainly fitting. His black hair was already receding and he was only twenty-one. His face was pock-marked from his earlier battle with acne, and his large bottle-capped glasses magnified his dull gray eyes to twice their original size. His parents couldn’t afford braces when he was a child, so his teeth were crooked, and had yellowed from too much coffee and not enough toothpaste. His weight was almost skeletal for his gangly height, and his nose jutted out at an odd angle. It really wasn’t surprising that Wilbur was dateless.
After one last inspection in his smudge covered mirror, Wilbur pulled his black cape around his shoulders and left his single dorm to go to the ball. Along the way, he passed other students who were laughing and joking. Each one was dressed in funny or exotic costumes. Nothing as ordinary or unoriginal as a vampire. There was a pair of beautiful blondes robed in skimpy harem girl costumes that were little more than veils, and a brunette in a twenties flapper gown. Pirates and masked ghouls draped their arms around them nonchalantly, and kissed them right out in the open. No qualms about PDA for those couples. They stopped to wave and chat with another group of kids, but none of them included Wilbur. He sighed again, and scratched his itchy, blood-caked chin. He was sure that once again, he would go completely unnoticed. But at least this wasn’t like high school where he had been tortured and ridiculed. Here, he was just invisible.
As Wilbur approached the gymnasium where the dance was being held, he could hear the music swell. The ground vibrated from the beat of the heavy base, and the dance floor was already packed with stomping feet and excited squeals. The room was decorated with all the traditional Halloween fixings—black and orange steamers, eerie glowing lights, and of course, fake spider webs. Wilbur took it all in from his normal spot—a lonely corner by the punch bowl. Squinting through his glasses, he looked around for a familiar face in the crowd. But even if he did have any friends, it would’ve been hard to find them amongst the masked faces that blended and blurred in the crowd.
As he scanned the room, Wilbur’s eyes fell upon a young girl dressed in a beautiful nineteenth century gown. She was standing alone on the other side of the refreshment table, tapping her foot to the beat of the music. He couldn’t help but admire the detail of her elaborate costume. She wore a long white dress, trimmed with soft blue lace, and topped off with a high ruffled collar. The bell sleeves came down to her elbows, and while the gown was certainly the modest garb of the old world, it still managed to accentuate her perfect curves. Even her hair was done in the style of the times, with the masses of russet curls piled on top on her head in a loose bun and just a few perfect ringlets dangling down on the side. The costume looked so natural on her; she could have stepped right out of a Victorian painting.
Wilbur was so enchanted by her unique beauty that he couldn’t stop staring. Eventually, she turned in his direction, as though she felt him watching her. When their eyes caught, he blushed furiously and instantly lowered his gaze. He expected her to sneer and turn away in disgust, like every other girl who had ever caught him gawking at them. But instead, she smiled and started to glide toward him. Her creamy white skin seemed almost transparent in the glow of the spinning strobe lights, but as she approached, her features became more distinguished. Wilbur could make out a sweet, heart shaped face, a small button nose, and the greenest emerald eyes he had ever seen.
“Hello.” She practically had to yell to be heard over the blaring music. “My name’s Jessica. What’s yours?”
Wilbur felt his knees start to buckle, and his mouth fell open in unrepressed shock. He actually turned his head to see if there was someone standing behind him because he was certain that she couldn’t be talking to him. As he turned, his glasses slipped down his nose, and when he tried to push them black in place, he accidentally slapped himself in the forehead. His cheeks burned, and he waited for the beautiful woman to laugh and walk away. He was amazed when she didn’t.
“You’re cute.” She giggled and placed a perfectly manicured hand on his shoulder. “So, are you going to answer my question? Or don’t you have name?”
“Wil…Wil…Wilbur,” he finally managed to stutter. He turned an even brighter shade of red when he felt something harden between his legs, and wondered if the protrusion was obvious to Jessica.
“Well, Wil…Wil…Wilbur,” she teased. “Would you like to dance with a lonely co-ed who couldn’t get a date?”
“Dance? With you?” Wilbur couldn’t quite believe his ears.
“Yes, dance,” Jessica said, her smile never faltering. “You know, cut the rug? Do the twist? Cha-cha-cha? So, what do you say? Would you like to dance with me?”
“Y...yes.” Wilbur really wished he could stop stuttering. “I’d…um…love to dance with you.”
“Well, then.” Jessica looped her arm with his and gestured to the crowded dance floor. He just about had a heart attack. “Shall we?”
In seconds they reached their destination. Wilbur normally didn’t like big crowds. He hated being poked and jabbed, and being in tight spots was known to bring on his chronic anxiety attacks. With Jessica, he hardly noticed the other intoxicated students that bumped into him without so much as a “sorry” or an “excuse me”. He was too intent on studying the magnificent creature that was his dance partner. Yet, he did notice the other young men eyeing him with surprise and even a little envy. They couldn’t understand why Jessica had chosen Wilbur. Wilbur couldn’t quite figure it out himself.
They didn’t speak while they danced. They just enjoyed the rhythm of the fast paced music. Jessica was obviously an accomplished dancer. She twirled and spun like she was on stage. Wilbur, who had never danced a day in his life, only barely managed to keep step with the flashing lights and the thumping beat of the base. He should have felt clumsy and inadequate in comparison to her elegant grace, but her easy smile made him feel right at home on the dance floor. Wilbur had never had so much fun in his life.
The fast paced music gradually slowed to a romantic ballad. The crowd thinned out as groups of girls went in search of their less enthusiastic dates. Wilbur figured that his moment of glory had ended. He was preparing to head back to his lonely corner, when Jessica reached for his hand.
“Where are you going?” she chided.
Wilbur thought he was going to collapse when Jessica wrapped one arm around his waist. He could feel her fingers, soft as silk, touching the nape of his neck with her other hand, and it made his flesh tingle. She even went so far as to lay her head on his shoulder. Her hair brushed against his cheek and the fresh, flowery scent made his vision blur. At first he thought it was jus
t his allergies, but then the whole room and all the people in it seemed to change. The woman all wore full lacy gowns with their hair piled up in fancy up dos, while the men waltzed beside them in tailored suits with long tails and top hats. Even the music had changed from the typical sappy love song to a classical ballad played by a string quartet. He swore he saw the musicians in the corner; their bows sliding effortlessly over the strings of their instruments while their fingers pulsated in perfect vibrato. Even the floor under their feet had changed from the faded gymnasium floor, marked with the lines and circles of the basketball court, to hand laid tile in intricate patterns reminiscent of a Victorian ballroom.
As they circled the dance floor in an oddly quickened pace, the faces of the dancers started to transform even more. The