Chapter Six

Lydia was relieved from her position at the pavilion by the next act, a jazz band, and was grateful for the reprieve. Meandering through the crowd, she received the occasional encouraging pat and spoken compliment before bumping into Donny.
"Lydia, that was incredible," Beetlejuice's brother smiled, taking her by the hand and shaking it fervently.

"Thanks. Have you seen Beetlejuice?"
Donny looked hurt. "No, not this afternoon. I heard he got kinda–"
"Squiffy?" Lydia said for him. "Yeah. What about your mother?"
"Barely seen Ma either, to be honest with ya,"

Lydia glanced around, frantic, trying to peer over the heads of the attendees. "I have to find him…" She mumbled to herself, chewing her lip anxiously. She couldn't make much out beyond the crowd in this area of the lawn; she looked over in the direction of the garden chair she'd last left him in but he was nowhere to be seen.

"I'll help y' find him, Lydia," Donny offered.
She waved her hand absently. "No. No, it's okay." Just then – she thought she spotted him. The sight of thick black and white stripes stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the partygoers. Her face lifted. "Ah! Got him!" She was already running by the time she thought to call over her shoulder. "Catch you later, Donny!"

He blinked and waved her off.

The ghoul up ahead had noticed Beetlejuice.

He waited for the usual reaction – dismissal, revulsion – but, instead of glowering in disgust, she waggled her fingers at him encouragingly. Hi.
He exhaled a whistling breath. Now that is my kind of reception.

The woman brushed back her mane of chestnut brown hair, her all-black eyes narrowed playfully.

Beetlejuice's long, green-striped tongue lapped at the palm of his hand, which he proceeded to slick his hair back with. Time for the good lady to meet the 'Juice.

She separated from the group she'd been on the fringes of. He was but a foot away from her when he flicked a finger in her direction. The ghoul had time enough to look puzzled before her torso suddenly turned into a book.
She looked down at herself and gasped in horror, half-spilling her drink all over her.
Beetlejuice cocked an eyebrow cheekily. "Ya must be overdue at the libr'y. You've got FINE written all over ya,"

With a small poof of smoke her body turned back to normal. The woman, though shaky, exhaled with relief and let out a tinkling laugh. She smirked up at him rather wolfishly. "Why, thank you. A comedian, hmm?"
Beetlejuice popped his collar. "And not a washed up one neither,"
"Mmm, I love a man with a good sense of humour,"

Must be my lucky day. He thought gleefully.

She stepped the short distance over to him. A few fingers of the hand that was curled around the drink she was occasionally sipping were stripped of skin and muscle, skeletal.
"You here with anyone, honey?" she asked.

Beetlejuice thought of Lydia. Instantly he felt like the seven or so glasses of alcohol he'd consumed wanted to come right back up.
He paused. ... Yeah. Here with Lyds.

"A boyfriend. I have a boyfriend."

Shaking his head, he sniffed irritably. Why should he be thinking about her? If he wanted to enjoy his evening then she'd support that, wouldn't she? She should. That was a best friend's job after all.
Yes. She would be happy he was meeting someone, just like he was happy f-... Well… he wasn't the best example.

He realised he was hesitating.
"Uh, family. You know how it is,"

The ghoul fluttered her eyelashes at him. "Looks like we both gave them the slip. Lucky us,"

"Yeah. Lucky us,"

Up close, she wasn't so pretty. She had no colour in her cheeks, (one of them was partially decomposed) and her skin looked almost jaundiced. Her hair was coarse, straw-like, and her smile was one of arrogance more so than one of flirtation.

"My name's Dawn," She extended her hand.
He took it numbly and kissed it. It was cold, emaciated.
When he straightened, he noticed that she was staring at him expectantly. He turned the charm back on, albeit forcibly. "Surely you've heard of me,"

"You're Beetlejuice," Her tone was accusing. Something about the way she spoke and the way she acted reminded him of an undercover cop.
'Dawn' swirled the drink in her glass.

"You caught me," He kidded, holding his arms aloft in a surrendering gesture. Then, his pupils dilated at the sigh of her leaning in closer.
Her voice was soft and purring. "I hear you get in all kinds of trouble,"

Again, he inexplicably felt like this was an undercover ruse. But then, he usually was suspicious when women didn't recoil at his flirtations. "We-ell…."

She was so close now that their noses were practically touching. "I could get you into more," She hummed.

He was distantly aware that he was paralysed to the spot, though with pleasure or fear he couldn't quite be sure. "Yeah?" This girl doesn't beat about the bush much, does she?
She rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped an arm around him in an awkward embrace. He was too surprised to return it.

Lydia had caught up to Beetlejuice at last, but she quickly wished that she hadn't.

She stopped dead still a few yards away from him, and the information of what she was seeing took a minute to process.

Beetlejuice was with a woman.
He was flirting with another woman.

Lydia flinched.
She wanted to march over there and seize him by the arm, had half a mind to yell at him but… the woman- the ghoul was staring her down. She was sneering, leaning into him; it looked like she was going to kiss him. How could he just be standing there? Letting her?

Lydia's face flushed red. Her eyes stung.

Dawn stayed where she was for a moment longer, her eyes narrowed and staring at something fixedly over his shoulder. Finally, she smiled cruelly and breathed into Beetlejuice's ear. His body turned absolutely rigid.

She nuzzled him and for a brief moment he, too, thought she was going to peck him on the cheek.

Lydia couldn't bear to see that woman's hold on him, couldn't bear to see him with her.

At the sight of their intimacy, she felt as tho
ugh someone had grabbed a shard of ice and stabbed her in the back. Her clenched fists trembled at her sides.

Unable to take it any longer, she ran.

Beetlejuice leant away from Dawn, who was still smirking.
In truth, the woman was beginning to frighten him just a little bit.

She tipped her head on one side. "…. Who's your friend?" She asked with relish, gesturing with her head to whatever she had been staring at.

"Huh?" Beetlejuice blinked. He turned instinctively.

Someone was running through the crowd, their back to him, brushing- nay, knocking people out of their way. The red fabric of her dress streamed behind her, her heeled feet sinking into the lawn.

Beetlejuice's face paled. "Lydia!"

He took off after her. In his panic he forgot that he could fly; instead he pumped his legs as hard as he could.

"Lyds!" He was gaining on her. After chasing her past half a dozen topiaries and a beer tent, he reached for her hand.
Almost as if she had eyes in the back of her head, she withdrew it out of his reach.
"I'm going home!" she cried without turning, voice thick, her face screwed up with an emotion he couldn't read.

"But… Lyds!" He reached for her again. Before he could get to her, someone pulled him back, and quickly wrapped arms around him to hold him in place. He tried to squirm free, tried to melt out of the grip this person had on him, but just as he was about to he heard something he'd never heard before in his life or beyond. Donny. Yelling.

In all his years on earth, and in the Neitherworld for that matter, he had never heard his goody two-shoes brother raise his voice once.
Beetlejuice's 'juice was stilled into submission.

"Now, stay right where you are!" Donny cried, wrestling him still.

Beetlejuice recovered enough to holler back at him. "Mind your own business!"
His head turned into the shape of a megaphone. "LYDS!" He screamed.
Everyone at the party, save for the lady in question, jumped and turned. Those nearest winced.

Donny recovered fast. He was surprisingly strong, for a weedy little thing, and kept him in place. "Beetlejuice! Leave her be!"
"What did I do?" He demanded.

As soon as Lydia had made it out of the gates, Donny let him go. Beetlejuice made to make a break for it again, but his brother jumped in front of him, arms out either side defensively.
Donny was panting. He'd chosen to answer his question. "Women tend not to like it when you pay attention to other women."

Beetlejuice was incredulous. "Wh–?"

"It puts a strain on all kinds of relationships,"

"What exactly are you implying? That I can't have a social after-life when I have Lydia for a best friend?"

Donny appeared taken aback. After a moment, he managed: "I-Is that all she is to ya?"

Beetlejuice stared, just as shocked, back. Well, what else would she be?

His heart hammered in his chest, literally, as it tried to get out and speak to him face-to-face. He could make out a faint, internal murmuring from it – which sounded something like "you're an idiot" – but he ignored it.

In retaliation, his heart tried to send signals to his brain – memories of thoughts he'd had of her, of times they'd gone out that could be construed as 'dates', asking him what the reason was that he'd pieced together an all new prom photo of the two of them, the knowledge that his reaction to learning she 'had a boyfriend' was jealousy.

The memories were there, but he wasn't capable enough to connect them.
Beetlejuice scratched the side of his head.
Before he could answer, the rest of his family appeared.

His mother was rubbing her hands together anxiously, his father's arm draped around her petite form. They both looked troubled.
Aunt Lucy kept her round face neutral, but Uncle Victor was smug. He shook his head. "I told them they shouldn't have invited you. You've caused quite the drama this evening,"

End-of-his-sober-rope reached, Beetlejuice blew his top. "Shut yer trap!" He yelled back.
A steel cage dropped out of the air and landed on top of his uncle, locking him inside.
"MNNF!"
"Victor!"

Nat glanced at his imprisoned brother, startled. Nevertheless, he didn't move to help him.

Bea stepped forward. Her voice was surprisingly firm when she spoke. "Junior, dear, listen to your brother,"
Beetlejuice stopped.
His mother rarely compared him to Donny. (In fact, this had always been the one redeeming thing that he felt made up for her obscene cleanliness.) For her to suggest this, Beetlejuice shut up and stayed shut up.

Donny sighed.

In his quarantine, Uncle Victor's yelling was muffled to a comforting volume. Aunt Lucy was navigating her way around the window-less box, tapping on it to find a spot, if there was one, which was hollow.

Donny began steadily. "Brother, y'know we love you–"
"Blacchhh,"
"- and nothin' is gonna change that. Y' made a horse's rear of yerself this afternoon, but we were expecting that. To be honest, we were expecting worse, considerin' your track record,"

Beetlejuice stepped off the ground and reclined mid-air. "I try my best,"

Donny's patience was uncharacteristically forced. "But you hurt Miss Lydia, and that, in itself, is worse,"
"Okay! Okay!" Beetlejuice threw up his hands. "Enough with the lecture! What'd I do?"

"Junior!" It was his dad's turn to snap.

"Now, Junior," His mother rang her hands sadly. "Lydia's a lovely girl. I just don't understand it. I didn't raise you to be a– a– … well, I didn't raise you to be as you are, but some things just happen."

Beetlejuice tried to listen to his mother, but it went in one ear and out the other. He'd been looking towards the gates and the estate's driveway, and became distracted by the brief glimpse of Doomie. The convertible was driving off, with Lydia slumped in the passenger side. Doomie offered a weary glance in the direction of the party, but Lydia didn't look up once.

Beetlejuice's stomach flipped. He wanted to wrap up this family reprimand, fast. "Look– I'm s- I'm suh-… I'm suh-hoh— Gahhh! I'm… stupid, okay? So I made a mess of your evening, hey, things happen, I didn't want to be here in the first place."

Aunty Lucy scowled from her position by the steel box. Nat and Bea deflated.

"Look, I didn't wanna upset Lydia; I dunno what I did. But whatever it was, I should be goin' after her."
Donny folded his arms. He looked tired. "No. Not yet. Give her some peace."
"Oh, come on,"

Donny raised a finger. He then raised a new one for each point. "Security had to remove a man from the inside of a shark, Ma and Pa won't be able to look the Gardners in the face again, ye've just put Uncle Victor in solitary confinement, and you tricked Lydia into performing so you could womanise while her back was turned!"

"Whaat? That is not how– Okay, I admit to the others, but I did not trick Lydia into anything!"
Donny levied him a look. "And are y'sure that's not how it looks to her?"

Beetlejuice's mouth fell open.
See, this was why he never hung around with his brother for too long – because his brother had the tendency of being right about everything. This… this stunk of being right.

Though he still couldn't understand why what he did had upset Lydia so much, the idea of upsetting her in anyway was distressing. He'd never wanted to hurt her.
Beetlejuice looked down at his feet and toed the ground miserably. If he wasn't before, he was now completely sober.
"I didn't mean it that way," He sighed.

Bea shuffled over to him. She put a consoling arm around his waist. "We know that, son,"

He looked up at the gates. Before he could move off again, Bea stopped him. "Give her some time," She advised, kindly. "Come on, now, dear. Let's get some food, hm? I hear they have Italian,"

Donny finally reverted to his usual self. He smiled a big grin, though he still looked a little tired. "This is the first time we've been together as a family for a while, isn't it, Ma?" He said helpfully.

The idea of spending an evening with his family without support from Lydia made Beetlejuice feel claustrophobic, trapped. He would have wanted to scream, to turn and run in the opposite direction but… somehow, for the first time in his afterlife, he felt like he had some amends to make. He'd landed himself in this mess. Besides, right now he felt too miserable to be sat at home, waiting for it to be safe to check on and apologise to Lydia.

He tucked his hands in his pockets and stood with his parents and brother.

Aunt Lucy frowned over at them. "And what about Victor?" She demanded, slapping the side of the steel prison. The flaps of skin on her large arms waggled from having done so.

Beetlejuice snapped his fingers. "Oh. Right." He smiled almost nastily. "You can both buzz off,"

Aunt Lucy's eyes widened. She began to shriek, her voice steadily rising in pitch but lowering in volume as she shrunk. A pair of wings large enough to carry her mass sprouted from her back. Uncle Victor's prison vanished, but he too had morphed into a fly. Against their will, they were both sent flying and screaming through the air as though on autopilot. Within minutes they were out of sight.

Beetlejuice grinned. Then, realising his company, he turned, waiting for the scolding to commence. Nat and Bea, however, were supressing laughter. Only Donny looked dismayed.

He relaxed as his father slapped an arm around him. "Come on, son." He said, and together they walked towards the estate's main building.

Lydia couldn't even bear to look at the Roadhouse.

After Doomie had dropped her off, tooting sadly, she gave him a half-hearted pat on the hood before heading for the Door. Focused on it, she tried not to let her eyes wander to Beetlejuice's home. She didn't want to be reminded of him right now in anyway possible.

Within moments after she'd stepped into her room, and climbed down the winding stone steps that encircled it, she found that that desire was futile. Her room currently glamoured to look like a Medieval tower chamber, a lump in her throat formed as she said Beetlejuice's name three times to close the link with the Neitherworld and bring it back into reality.

She dropped onto her bed, numb, and faced the canopy, her deep brown eyes mostly unseeing.

Her heart felt incredibly heavy.
One moment she wanted to grab something – anything – everything and hurl it around her room in a tantrum. In the next moment she wanted to cry.

She had no right to feel this way. He wasn't 'hers'. Why was she so– so–?
Jealous?

No. Disappointed. Yes, that was the word. Disappointed that he would look twice at a tramp like that. Disappointed that he couldn't see a woman like that was no good for him. Disappointed that he couldn't see what was right in front of him.

…. Jealous.

Oh God. She was.

Lydia clutched her comforter, digging in her nails.

And what did that mean, ladies and gentlemen?
All the primping, dressing herself up to look half-decent for him, the teasing (hell, she should just say it, the flirting), the not being able to get him off of her mind and now this… this jealousy?

Lydia's heart heaved painfully.

I'm… in love with him.

The mental dam in her mind that had been holding back the wave of emotion broke. The shock hit her with such force that it chilled her to the bone.
The waterworks wanted to begin. Her eyes stung, and she scrubbed at them furiously.
She tried not to listen to her conscience, but it was no good, the flood of realisation was coming hard and fast, and she was drowning in it.

I'm in love with Beetlejuice.

She looked up at the mirror above her dresser, her eyes wet with barely supressed tears.

When had it happened? She wasn't sure it ever had, it just always was. There had never been a single moment where she had fallen for him, she'd probably been floored for a while now and hadn't once realised she'd tripped.

The realisation should have been empowering – beautiful, even – but it was—horrifying.
She was in love with her best friend. A man who hadn't noticed her feelings. A man who didn't even notice his own. A man who, only today, was flirting with… with someone else. A man who couldn't feel the same as she.

This would ruin everything.

Suddenly, she felt like she'd been punched in the gut. She curled up in a foetal position and wrapped her arms around herself. The pain was almost physical.

That was the reality of it all, he couldn't feel the same. They'd been friends since she was a child, so how could she expect him to see her as a woman, not to mention his woman, now?

"Oh, God…." Lydia burst into tears. Her eyeliner and mascara began to run smoky tracks down her face, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered.

She was hopelessly in love with a man that was almost twice her own age. Someone who also happened to be dead.
For the first time in her life, Lydia Deetz was in love.

She should have been bouncing off the walls, not burying a face in her pillow to smother her tears. But she was crying, and cry she would until he came for her.

Despite it all, she still wanted to be with him.
He was what mattered. She had to let him know it, one way or another.

Wiping her tear-stained cheeks with both her thumb and the back of her hand, Lydia sat up. Her expression settled into one of grim determination.

That was it.
She would show him the woman she'd become.
What other option did she have?