The Lost Boys

Chapter Three

After a dinner of delivery pizza, the Emerson's dispersed to set up their new living quarters. And for once in her life, Mattie found herself grateful for her lack of possessions because setting up her new room was going to be quick and easy. The first thing she did was locate her record player and the few records that she owned. Once Sid Vicious was screaming My Way, Mattie turned her attention to the other boxes. She didn't have much: her record collection (which consisted of the Sex Pistols, Siouxsie and the Banshees, the Runaways, and other similar artists), a handful of posters of the same bands, and an old teddy bear (whose name was – and always had been – Webster although none of the Emerson's could remember why) that was ratty but still held a lot of sentimental value for the teenage Mattie. Mattie's wardrobe pretty much consisted of jeans and random band t-shirts, some of which she had cut up to make them more feminine. She owned one dress which had never been worn. It was supposed to be her prom dress, but once she learned of her parent's divorce, Mattie had decided to boycott the prom as a protest. The act had disappointed her mother and the price of the now unworn dress had angered her father. Looking back on it, Mattie regretted hurting her mom, but pissing off her father had been worth it.

"I don't get how you can listen to that crap."

Mattie yelped in surprise at the sudden appearance of her younger brother at her side as she stood precariously on the bed trying to pin up a Joan Jett poster.

"Jesus Christ Sam, you nearly gave me a friggin' heart attack!"

Sam rolled his eyes. "I knocked on your door like twelve times, but I guess you couldn't hear me over the sound of that screeching."

"It's not screeching," Mattie growled, "It's music."

"It's crap."

Done with the poster, Mattie jumped down from her bed and put her hands on her hips. "What do you want?"

"Mom wants to know if you want to go to the Boardwalk with us."

"Hell yes! When are we leaving?"

"Now." Sam replied.

"Now?!" Sam nodded. "Ugh, okay. I'll be right down."

Mattie shooed Sam from the room before slamming the door shut and rushing to her closet. She shimmied out of her jeans and pulled on a lighter pair that had several rips. For a top, she went with her latest Ramones t-shirt with her leather jacket (a 16th birthday present from Michael who solidified himself as the best brother ever with it) over it. She slipped into her black ankle boots before jumping over the bed to twist off the record player before rushing into the bathroom to apply some mascara and a bit of dark pink lipstick.

"Mattie!" Sam shouted from the bottom of the stairs. "Let's go! You won't get any prettier without surgery!

"Shut up! I'll be right down!"

Having finished her make-up, Mattie ran a hand through her hair and left both the bathroom and her bedroom. Her mother, Sam, and Michael were all waiting impatiently by the door. Lucy cast a disapproving glare upon her daughter's choice of clothes.

"Really, Mattie?"

"What?" Mattie asked, glancing down at her clothes.

Lucy shook her head. "Never mind. Let's just go."

                                        ***

"Stay close to your brothers, okay?" Lucy warned her only daughter as all three teenagers waited impatiently just inside the entrance to the boardwalk.

"You people do realize that guys get raped and killed too, right?" Mattie asked with a frown.

"There's safety in numbers." Lucy countered, trying to sooth her daughter's ruffled feathers.