April 8, 1996
Dear Diary,
To call Saturday night "eventful" would be the understatement of the century. I didn't know what I was expecting, but being kissed by Billy Loomis and John Carpenter, and then being asked by the latter to officially go steady, was certainly not on my fucking radar. The kiss with Billy doesn't really count, though. He did it as a dare.
Judy drove me home right before midnight. It was hard to stay awake during church yesterday morning, but the tiredness was worth going to the party. I've got the rest of spring break to catch up on sleep. Mom made a great Easter dinner too, and broke the news that my grandmother called and wants to visit soon. "Broke the news" sounds so negative, doesn't it? I guess for me it is.
I know I'm going to have to tell my parents about John sooner or later. He's a gentleman, so he'll want to meet them soon. But for now I'll let them hold onto their vision of me as a little girl for a little while longer. Save them some worries.
That Friday, with the week-long break waning, Christina took her mother's car and went into town on her own. Between Judy and now John wanting to hang out, she was determined to set aside at least one day for herself. She bought some junk food and a mint face mask from the grocery. Next was the video store. She'd rent a couple of popcorn flicks, go home, smear the face mask on her skin that had now taken on a lovely light brown hue with the heat of the impending summer months, and spend the weekend stuffing her face with Cheetos and Twinkies. She couldn't ask for a more perfect ending to the break.
She started with the section labelled "Animation/Children," nostalgia drawing her to a copy of The Little Mermaid. She picked it up and continued to "Drama," immediately setting her gaze on an artistically cracked, black-and-white image of Faye Dunaway as Joan Crawford in Mommie Dearest. She couldn't resist.
"You should really be in the comedy section," she mumbled to herself as she placed the tape in her handheld basket.
"I'd argue horror," a vaguely familiar voice replied.
Christina looked up to see Randy Meeks from homeroom smiling at her from the other side of the shelf. He was wearing a black, long-sleeved uniform shirt with the name of the store, Bradley Video.
"Oh, hi Randy! I didn't know you worked here."
"Recently re-hired. I guess I'm just too passionate about my work."
"That's cool. So…uh…do you have any recommendations?" she asked, returning his smile. Randy had shown himself to be a little eccentric, but she had no reason not to be kind to him.
"Depends on what you're into." He rounded the corner of the display shelf that separated them, rolling a cart of videos behind him. He examined the contents of her basket. "Horror is my specialty, of course…Hmm, ever seen Carrie? It's sort of like a fucked-up fairytale. Like, I could totally see Carrie White getting along with that fish girl. Or maybe Snow White, with the evil moms and all."
"Carrie's the one with the superpowers right? I've never seen it. Is it hard to follow? I'm kind of looking to turn my brain off this weekend."
Randy grinned wider, happy to indulge her.
"It's a classic."
"I'll take it."
He led her to the horror section in the middle of the store.
"You know…" he said, his tone wavering. He must have felt the end of their interaction lingering. "We're having a special this week. Four rentals for the price of three. If you're interested."
"Sure, Randy. Is there anything else you'd suggest?"
"Well, if you're looking to broaden your horizons into horror, I'd also go for Beetlejuice. It's like a scary movie for people who don't like scary movies. Tim Burton's ode to low-budget cinema. The kids love it."
Christina picked up a copy of Beetlejuice, and after thanking Randy, took her four titles to the check-out counter.
"Did you find everything you were looking for today, young lady?" the large, balding older man inquired as he rung her up.
"Yes, I did," Christina replied, and upon noticing the man's nametag designated him as the manager, added "your employee Randy was very helpful."
The man raised a brow.
"I'm glad I keep him on, then."
Christina smiled to herself as she turned around and headed toward the exit, satisfied with her good deed. Randy was a nice boy. His friend group was curious to her, though. She had seen him sitting with Sidney Prescott, Tatum Riley, Billy Loomis, and Stu Macher all the time at lunch, the single tag-along between the two couples. It's not that she couldn't fathom them being friends, but it was curious. She hoped the boys didn't mistreat him, especially that Billy—
Billy Loomis.
As if her mere thinking of him caused him to materialize in the video store, there he was, leaning against the candy display, talking to a couple of girls that Christina vaguely recognized from the halls of Woodsboro High. His back was to her, but she'd recognize that over-gelled hair anywhere. She froze. She would have to pass right by him in order to get to the double doors, and for whatever reason she really, really did not want to do that.
The girls giggled, one of them twirling a dirty-blonde lock around her finger, before turning away from him. Billy ran a hand through his greasy hair and faced the candy display, picking up a bag of M&M's, and then jerked his head up to look directly at her.
"Hey," he said. "Thought that was you."
"Uh…hey."
There was no use in trying to shy away now—and really, no reason to. Billy Loomis was nothing to her, as sure as she was that she was nothing to him. Except a boy that very purposefully kissed you because he thought you were the prettiest girl in the room, her thoughts teased.
His eyes lingered down to the plastic bag of her rentals as he stepped towards her.
"Movie night with Johnny?" Boldly, he reached forward and took her bag, judging her selections. "No Exorcist? Or The Shining? Boring."
"Wait—how do you know about John and me?"
Billy looked up at her and smirked; Christina frowned. There was something almost vulgar in his gaze, and she felt the sudden urge to cross her arms so as to cover her chest. As if those deep-sunken, dark-rimmed eyes could see right through her blouse. Could he really be only a junior in high school? Every detail of how he carried himself, from his cool tone, perpetually contemplative stare, and shadow of facial hair along his upper lip and stone-hewn jaw suggested a man much older. A man who had already seen and done a lot.
"Everyone knew before the party was over."
"But we haven't even been back to school since then."
"Small town, sweetheart. Things get around fast."
"I'm still getting used to that. Does everyone also know about—uh—the other thing that happened at the party involving me?"
"Don't know what you mean."
"Oh, okay."
So rule number one was actually respected. She could live with that.
"So you're from Los Angeles, right?" he inquired. "My dad used to work there years ago, back when he was a big hot-shot lawyer for one of the movie studios down there. Now he just represents businesses and stuff. In fact"—Billy cocked his head to the side, wetting his lips, swinging her bag back and forth in his hand—"I think your dad works with mine. He's mentioned a new guy with your last name."
"Right—yeah, that's my dad. Only one law office in Woodsboro, right?" she said, chuckling awkwardly. "Uh—I guess I'll see you around, then?"
"Yeah, see you around, Christina."
She shivered as she headed out the door, despite the pleasant warmth of the mid-afternoon sun. It was the first time he had addressed her by her name. It felt strangely intimate. Perhaps, she theorized, that's because two people are usually on a first-name basis before they end up kissing.
Christina had barely put her things down in her room when her mother knocked on the door.
"I've got your keys, Mom, don't worry."
"It's not that, mija. You've got a visitor."
"A visitor?" Perplexed, Christina opened her door to see her mother, long hair pulled back, an apron tied around her jeans. "Who?"
"He said his name's Billy," her mother said. A gleam of girlish excitement brightened her eyes, rivaling Judy for a brief moment. "Oh, he's so handsome, Christina. Has he asked you out?"
"Not a chance. Did he say what he wanted?"
"He said you left your movie rentals with him."
Christina looked to her bed: there was her purse, and her bag of goodies from the grocery. No movies.
"Oh, yeah—I guess I did. Um, could you tell him I'll be right down?"
"Hurry up. It's rude to keep him waiting." Her mother had already turned to walk back down the stairs when she stopped to address her daughter again. "You should invite him to stay for dinner."
"Oh, no, Mom. I really don't think that's a good idea."
"Why not? Is he not nice to you?"
"Well, yeah he's nice, I guess, but he's—"
"It's almost done, and you know I always end up making too much for the three of us, anyway. I'm sure he smells it. Let me at least ask him."
"Fine, fine! Mi casa es su casa and all that crap."
Christina rolled her eyes as she watched her mother descend the stairs. She took a moment to freshen up in the bathroom before following suit, finding Billy Loomis sitting across from her mother in the living area. He rose to his feet when he saw her, handing over the plastic bag of her chosen weekend entertainment.
"Hey, you forgot these."
"Thanks," she replied, trying not to sound short as she took the bag from him.
"Billy's going to stay for dinner," her mother said as she headed back to the kitchen, confirming Christina's fears. "You two relax. Your father will be home soon, mija."
The second her mother was out of sight, Christina turned on Billy.
"How did you know where I live? Did you follow me?"
Billy snorted.
"I told you: small town."
"I'm getting kind of tired of that excuse," she acquiesced, plopping down next to him on the couch. "Well, thanks for bringing back my rentals. And look, I don't mind you staying over for dinner, but—um—what about Sidney?"
"What about Sidney?"
"Would she be okay with you…you know, being over at another girl's house like this? I don't want to cause any trouble between you guys."
"Yeah, you do look like a troublemaker. Maybe I should go," he joked. "What Sid doesn't know won't hurt her."
No-good cheater, Judy's words echoed in Christina's thoughts, no-good cheater.
"I don't like that."
"What, are you going to tell John that I came over?"
"Probably not," she said quietly, ashamed.
"There you go, then. It'll be our little secret."
Christina shifted uncomfortably against the couch cushions, realizing that if she was going to get anywhere with this guy as a friend—or, whatever the hell was going on right now—she was going to have to dig deep.
"If you don't mind my saying, I imagine it must be kind of hard to be her boyfriend right now, huh? After what happened."
"You mean her mother," Billy supplied, unbothered. "Yeah, she's been pretty rigid since that happened. Completely different from when we first started dating. She used to be fun to be around."
Christina was affronted by the casualness of his response. Did he think something else had happened to his girlfriend's mother than what she had heard, what was on the news? Did he not know that barely half a year ago Maureen Prescott was taken from her family in one of the most brutal ways imaginable?
"Her mom was murdered, Billy. Of course she's going be different. She needs the people in her life to support her. Including you. Especially you."
He must have registered the offense in her tone, for when he regarded her again, it was with a defensive glare in his dark eyes.
"I have been there for her. She would cry on my shoulder every night throughout the whole trial. You don't think it was exhausting for me too? That same year my mom walked out on my dad. She left town. And yeah, I was upset for a while, but then I accepted it. It's the way it is. She's not coming back. And now Sid's got to learn the same."
"I'm sorry about your mom, Billy," Christina said, struggling to look at him now. "I didn't know that. But…wouldn't you agree that your mom choosing to leave town is different from her being murdered?"
His eyes narrowed as he considered the matter.
"It's not the best analogy. But either way, neither of them are coming back."
"I'm sorry," Christina repeated softly. But she wasn't sure if she should have been the one apologizing.