Vampireville

by Ellen Schreiber

  I was running out of options, and time. I had to go for the jugular.

  “Word on the street is, these are a major aphrodisiac. Gives off a scent that girls find irresistible. Something about pheromones. Anyway, someone like you shouldn’t need it,” I said, heading for the front door with the capsules.

  “Hey, wait,” he said, catching up to me in the entranceway. “Leave those here.” He grabbed the package from my hand. “Not for me, of course. For the guys on the team.”

  10

  Hatsy’s Diner

  One block north of Dullsville’s downtown square sat Hatsy’s Diner—a quaint fifties restaurant complete with teal blue and white vinyl booths, a black-and-white-checked tile floor, neon Coke signs, and a menu of cheeseburgers, atomic fries, and the thickest chocolate shakes in town. The waitresses donned red diner uniforms while the waiters dressed as soda jerks. Occasionally Becky and I would frequent Hatsy’s after school when we managed to scrounge enough change to cover an order of onion rings and a mediocre tip.

  Alexander and I arrived at Hatsy’s. A few families and young couples were scattered around the diner. The soccer players were already gulping down malts and fries at two large tables. All eyes turned to us as we walked through the clean, crisp, bright diner in our usual blackness.

  A surge of excitement shot through me—I felt like a gothic princess on the arm of her handsome gothic prince, although I knew the stares were from ridicule rather than envy.

  Alexander studied the framed Bobby Darrin, Ricky Nelson, and Sandra Dee records, too engrossed in his new surroundings to feel self-conscious.

  Matt and Becky were sitting alone in a corner booth.

  “Hey, guys, we’re over here,” Becky called.

  Alexander and I nestled into the booth.

  “I thought you’d be sitting with the rest of the soccer team,” I remarked as we grabbed the menus resting behind the chrome napkin holder.

  “We thought it might be cozier if it were just us,” Becky said.

  A tall waitress with an hourglass figure, a brunette beehive, and white cat’s-eye glasses approached our table, chomping on a wad of pink bubble gum.

  “Hi, my name is Dixie,” she said, cracking her gum. She pulled out an order pad from her white apron. “What can I get you?”

  “Two vanilla shakes and an order of atomic fries,” Matt said.

  “And we’d like the same, but make the shakes chocolate, please,” Alexander said.

  Dixie blew a big bubble and popped it with her front teeth.

  Then she sashayed off toward the kitchen. All the guys in the diner gawked at her, even Alexander and Matt.

  “When I grow up, I want to look just like that,” I said to Alexander.

  “You already do,” he said, putting his arm around me and giving me a squeeze.

  Alexander’s eyes lit up as he spotted the vintage tabletop jukebox. “This is cool,” he said, flipping through the menu of fifties tunes. “I’ve only seen these in movies.”

  I’d forgotten that my boyfriend spent so much of his life hidden away in his attic room, far from the mundane musings of mortals. I got goose bumps seeing him so fascinated in his new surroundings as he examined the list of titles and artists.

  “Elvis rocks,” he said, elated.

  I dug my hand into my purse and placed a quarter in the jukebox.

  A moment later, “Love Me Tender” played over the speakers.

  Alexander smiled a sweet smile and squeezed my hand. His leg was touching mine, and I could feel him tapping his combat boots to the beat of the song underneath the table.

  “So what have you guys been up to lately?” Matt asked.

  “Hunting for coffins,” Alexander said.

  Becky and Matt looked at us oddly.

  “The usual,” I said, smiling.

  Matt and Becky laughed.

  “So how was your game?” Alexander asked Matt as he put his napkin on his lap.

  “We kicked butt. But only because Trevor played.”

  “No,” Becky defended. “You scored, too.”

  “I thought he was sick,” I said.

  “Well, he managed to show up and score a few goals. As much as I hate to say it, we’re not a winning team without him.”

  “Did he go home?” I asked.

  “No, he’s over there,” Matt said, pointing behind me.

  I turned around. Trevor was in the far end of the diner, playing pinball.

  “He shouldn’t be out at night,” I declared.

  Becky looked perplexed.

  “I’m using him as my project for health class. The night air isn’t good for a cold. Excuse me, I’ll be back in a sec,” I said, awkwardly scooting out of the booth.

  I could feel eyeballs on me as I walked across the diner, but not for the same reason they had been looking at Dixie.

  I tapped on Trevor’s shoulder. “What are you doing here?”

  My nemesis glanced at me and rolled his eyes. “Looks like I’m playing pinball.”

  “You’re sick. You shouldn’t be out where you can pick up more germs.”

  “Believe me, with you standing next to me, I’ve already picked up several diseases,” he said, pressing the flippers with gusto.

  “You should be at home,” I ordered.

  The ball hit a bumper, causing the game board to light up. “You left Monster Boy to talk to me?” he asked. “You’ve been to my house twice. I’m beginning to think—”

  “It’s best you don’t think. Did you take your garlic?”

  “I had a game, not a date,” he said, tilting the machine.

  “You should be resting.”

  “You sound like my mother,” he said, banging on the flippers.

  “Well, maybe you should listen to her.”

  “Why, so she can tell me not to see Luna? Has my mom been talking to you?”

  “She doesn’t approve?” I asked, curious.

  “What do you think?”

  “Your mother is right this time. Luna isn’t your type. You need a girl with a tiara, not a tattoo.”

  “But do I really? Luna dresses like you and you’ve been trying to convince me for years that you are not a mutant. Did you ever think it wasn’t your clothes that led people to think you were a freak?”

  “So what do you see in her?” I interrogated.

  “She’s the new girl, beautiful and mysterious. Kind of what you liked in Alexander.”

  “That’s completely different. I like Alexander because he is unlike anyone I’ve ever met and exactly like me. But Luna isn’t your type. She’s too goth.”

  “Just like someone we know…”

  “You’d risk your popularity for her?” I whispered with a twinge of jealousy.

  I hated to admit it, but deep down I did wonder what Trevor saw in Luna that he didn’t see in me.

  “Are you kidding? I’ll be even more popular for scoring the new goth girl rather than the old one.”

  It was as if he had just driven a stake into my heart.

  “She and Jagger now hang out with me all the time,” he continued in my face. “They watch me at practice and games. I’m more popular than ever—a king of both the insiders and the outsiders.”

  “I’m telling you, your mother is right this time,” I tried to warn.

  “Well, was my mother right about Alexander and his family?” he asked, referring to the rampant rumors spread throughout Dullsville that the Sterlings were vampires. “She thought they were weird just because they were different.”

  “So did you,” I argued.

  “She said they were vampires,” he continued, hitting the ball again. “Had the whole town believing they were. Especially you.”

  “You were the one who made up and spread those rumors. But in this case, maybe you should believe it.”

  “That Luna is a vampire?”

  I paused.

  The restaurant went quiet.

  Trevor let the pinball bounce against the bumpers and drop thr
ough the flippers.

  Just then I felt someone behind me. I turned around.

  Jagger, in a ripped white Bauhaus T-shirt and black jeans, and Luna in a black and pink minidress and pink fishnets, stood before me, glaring. She was beautiful. She looked like a gothic pixie fairy girl, with skinny pale arms dangling black rubber bracelets, her long cotton white hair flowing over her shoulders and bright blue eyes sparkling. Both stood in front of me like they were ready to extract me from the diner.

  “What are you doing here?” she charged.

  Suddenly, like a gothic Superman, Alexander appeared by my side. As Luna leaned in to me, Alexander bravely stepped between us.

  “Good-bye, Monster Girl,” Trevor said, taking Luna’s hand. “C’mon, Jagger.”

  Jagger gave Alexander a deathly stare, then followed the odd couple toward the tables where the soccer snobs were eating.

  I leaned against the pinball machine as Trevor sat at the head of the table with Luna and Jagger on either side. The soccer snobs inched away as if the Romanian siblings had rabies. The players continued to avoid eye contact and kept the conversation to themselves.

  “We have to get to the treehouse,” Alexander whispered. “While Jagger and Luna are still here.”

  Alexander and I quickly returned to our table to find our order had just arrived.

  “What was that about?” Matt asked.

  “We have to go,” I said, grabbing my purse.

  “But we just got our food!” my best friend argued.

  “Becky and I can’t drink four shakes,” Matt said.

  I glanced back at Trevor. The star player was shining in his spotlight, back from a cold to save the team. A girl on one side, his new friend on the other. It disgusted me.

  “We really have to go—,” I repeated.

  “Just because Trevor and those guys are over there?” Becky asked.

  “Yes,” I said, “but not for the reason you think. I’ll have to explain it later. Trust me.”

  Alexander placed a twenty and a ten on the table. “Please, it’s on me.”

  “Our lucky night—we can order burgers now,” Becky joked.

  I laughed and gave my best friend a quick hug.

  While all eyes were glued to Dixie as she took Jagger and Luna’s order, Alexander and I snuck out of the diner, past Jagger’s hearse, and into the Mercedes.

  “We better hurry,” I said as we bolted through Henry’s backyard.

  Alexander and I didn’t know how much time we had to remove the coffins before Jagger and Luna returned.

  I scaled up the treehouse ladder and Alexander met me inside. When I pulled back the black curtain, the coffins remained as we’d seen them before.

  Alexander stood behind Jagger’s casket. Then he pushed the coffin with all his might.

  Jagger’s bed wouldn’t budge.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “It’s stuck.”

  “Is something in it? Maybe a dead body?”

  “It would have to be several dead bodies. This thing weighs a ton.”

  Alexander opened the lid. All that remained inside was a rumpled black blanket and white pillow.

  He closed the lid and tried to move it again.

  “Maybe it’s caught on something.”

  I bent over the opposite end, and together we pushed and pulled as hard as we could.

  But the coffin wouldn’t move.

  “Let’s try Luna’s,” Alexander said, brushing his dark locks away from his face.

  I grabbed one end of the pale pink coffin and Alexander held the other. We couldn’t lift Luna’s coffin off the ground.

  Alexander and I searched the hideout for anything we could use as leverage.

  “Check this out,” I said, pointing to a few nails lying next to Jagger’s duffel bag.

  “When I think we’ve thought of everything, so has Jagger,” Alexander said, frustrated.

  “I don’t have any tools with me,” I said.

  “I think he counted on that,” Alexander remarked, gently touching my shoulder.

  Just then we heard the sound of a car driving up the road.

  Alexander and I quickly escaped from the treehouse as headlights from Jagger’s hearse shined on the driveway.

  “I’ve heard about nailing a coffin lid shut, but never the whole coffin!” I said as we made a fast getaway.

  11

  Bat Fight

  The following evening, when I headed out the front door to meet Alexander at the Mansion, I found a red envelope lying on the porch. In black letters it read: RAVEN.

  Inside, a red note with black typed letters read:

  MEET ME AT OAKLEY PARK, Love, Alexander.

  How sweet, I thought. A spontaneous romantic interlude in the park. Alexander Sterling was king of planning the most mysterious, meaningful, marvelous dates—a picnic at the Dullsville cemetery; a goth rock dance at Dullsville’s Country Club golf course; picking out my kitty, Nightmare, at an abandoned barn.

  I imagined arriving at the park, votives surrounding the Oakley Park fountain, bubbles floating from the steaming water, Alexander and I wading in our bare feet, our lips tenderly touching.

  Then I wondered, was this note truly from my vampire mate? Unfortunately, since I’d encountered Jagger at the Coffin Club, I had grown suspicious. After all, Jagger had met me in an alley in Hipsterville, appeared in my backyard, and hid in the Mansion’s gazebo. Then again, if it was Jagger, he could just show up at my house.

  I hopped on my bike in my lacy black knee-length dress and pedaled my heart out to Oakley Park. I raced over the bumpy grass toward the swings. When I reached the fountain, my dream guy wasn’t there. I walked my bike over to the picnic benches.

  “Alexander?” I called.

  All I saw were the flashing lights of lightning bugs.

  Then I heard the music of the Wicked Wiccas being piped in from the outdoor amphitheater.

  I walked my bike over to the domed stage where my parents dragged Billy Boy and me to see Dullsville’s symphony orchestra play on Sunday nights during the summer. I had preferred sitting alone on the wet grass, listening to the screeching violins in a rainstorm while my parents sought shelter underneath a tree, to watching them canoodle and dance to “The Stars and Stripes Forever.”

  I coasted down the aisle of the theater. A lit candelabra and a picnic basket were sitting on a black lace blanket, spread out center stage.

  I leaned my bike against a cement bench. I raced around the orchestra pit and climbed onstage.

  “Alexander?”

  I heard nothing.

  I searched the wings. I found only chairs and music stands.

  I went to center stage and sat on the blanket. I opened the picnic basket. Maybe there was another note telling me to go to a different romantic location. But the basket was empty.

  Something felt strange. The crickets turned silent. I stood up and looked around. Still no Alexander.

  Then, right in front of me, stood Luna, in a tight black dress with mesh sleeves and pink fingerless gloves, a pastel pink amulet hanging from her neck.

  I gasped and stepped back.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked her. “I’m supposed to meet Alexander.”

  “He got a note, too,” she said with a wicked grin. “‘Meet me at the cemetery. Raven.’”

  I glanced around, peering into the wings of the stage, squinting out at the empty seats. Jagger could have been anywhere.

  “I’m here alone,” she assured me as if she were reading my thoughts.

  “I’ve got to go—,” I said.

  Luna stepped in front of me, her chunky black boot almost hitting my own. “I think Alexander can wait. After all, he’s made me wait for him since I was born.”

  “I didn’t have anything to do with that,” I said, referring to the covenant ceremony in Romania where Alexander was supposed to turn her into a vampire. “And Alexander didn’t either. He never made that promise.”

&n
bsp; “Don’t defend him,” she argued. “Besides, that’s not why I’m here.”

  “Then why are you?”

  “I want you to stop seeing Trevor,” she said.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Don’t play dumb with me. I know you visit him at night. And I overheard you at the diner. You told him to beware of me, like I’m some freak!”

  “He has the right to know who you really are.”

  “I was a freak before I turned. Now I am normal.”

  “But you don’t even know the real Trevor. Believe me, he’s the freak.”

  “I don’t remember asking you for your opinion.”

  “Jagger is not looking out for you. He’s not concerned with finding you a soul mate. He’s still looking to get back at Alexander.”

  “Don’t talk about my brother like that. You don’t know anything about him—or me. You don’t even know me.”

  “I do know Trevor.”

  Luna’s eyes widened. She stuck her hands in their pink fingerless gloves on her almost nonexistent hips.

  “Trevor’s right. You are jealous!” she accused. “He thinks you are in love with him. And I do, too.”

  “Then you are as loony as he is! You deserve each other.”

  “You won Alexander. I have a right to find my own fun.”

  “This isn’t a contest. These are people, not prizes.”

  Her blue eyes turned red. She stepped so close to me, I could smell her Cotton Candy lip gloss.

  “I want you to back off!” she said in my face.

  “I want you to back off!” I said in her face.

  If she was going to push, I was going to push back harder.

  “I’m not afraid of you,” Luna said.

  “I’m not afraid of anyone,” I replied.

  I thought at any minute we were going to have a cat fight—or in our case, a bat fight.

  “If you tell Trevor about me,” she threatened, “then I’m going to tell him about you!”

  “What about me?”

  “That you are a vampire. That we are vampires.”

  She stepped back and folded her arms, as if triumphant. I didn’t know what to say.