Vampire Kisses vk-1

by Эллен Шрайбер

  My parents wanted to take pictures. Go figure. They were acting as if I was going to the prom. I let them take just one. I figured my dad should finally have a picture of me he could proudly hang at the office.

  Becky and I were eating lunch in the cafeteria later that day. Everyone looked at me like I was the new girl. Really, no one recognized me. It was fun at first, then a bit annoying. I got stares when I dressed in black. I got stares when I dressed in white. I couldn't win! Then Trevor came into the cafeteria dressed as Dracula. His hair was slicked back, and he was sporting a black cape. He had plastic fangs and red-hot lips.

  He stood with Matt as he glanced all around to find me. He wanted to rub his new look in my face. Matt finally pointed to me and Trevor did a double take. He stared at me long and hard, looked me up and down. I had never seen him gaze at me like that before. It was as if he was in major Crushville, as he checked out my preppy white sweater and healthy glow.

  I thought for sure he'd come over and say something stupid, but instead he sat at the opposite side of the cafeteria with his back to me. He even left before I did. I was free of him! But I was wrong. I should have known our truce wouldn't last.

  My little pumpkin basket was almost filled with Smarties, Snickers, Mary Janes, Jolly Ranchers, Dubble Bubble gum, and lots of other tasty treats. And most importantly—spider rings and temporary tattoos. Becky and I had walked all over town and now wondered what awaited us at the front door of the mysterious Mansion. We were saving the best house for last. Apparently so was everyone else.

  There was actually a line to the front door. It was like we were at Disney World. Ghouls, punks, bums, Mickey Mouse, Fred Flintstone, and Homer Simpson were all eagerly waiting their turn. And a bunch of coiffed parents who showed up to steal a peek inside. The circus was in town, and everyone had come to look at the freaks.

  "He's really creepy," a twelve-year-old Frankenstein remarked to a pint-sized werewolf as they passed us.

  Nerd Boy spotted me and Becky as he walked down the driveway.

  "It's well worth the wait, Raven. You'll love it! This is my sister!" he proudly said to his geekoid Batman friend, who looked at me with junior crush-boy eyes.

  "Did you see any shrunken heads? Or monsters with fangs?" I asked.

  "No."

  "Then maybe we're wasting our time."

  "That old man is really freaky. He looks scary and he isn't even wearing a costume!"

  I could see Nerd Boy was trying to bond with me, since this was the first time he could actually show me off to his friend. But I could also see Nerdo was expecting a verbal body slam.

  "Thanks for the info."

  "Thanks? Uh…yeah…of course, Sis."

  "I'll see you at home, if you want to trade any candy bars."

  Nerd Boy nodded willingly. He smiled and left like he had finally met his long lost sister.

  Becky and I eagerly waited our turn. We were last in line, and as Charlie Brown and a witch who were in front of us stepped away with their goods, the door closed. I looked at the S-shaped knocker and wondered if it was the initial of the new owner. When I peered closer, I saw it was a serpent with emerald eyes. I rapped it gently, hoping the Gothic guy would answer. I wanted to ask him if he was the one in the road the other night, and if so, what he had been doing? Most people got their exercise at the gym, not on spooky country roads in the dead of night. But no one answered.

  "Let's go," Becky suggested nervously.

  "No, we waited forever for this! I'm not turning back until I get some candy. He owes us!"

  "I'm tired. We've been out all night. It's probably just some creepy old guy who wants to go to bed. And I do, too."

  "We can't leave now."

  "I'm going home, Raven."

  "I can't believe you're so chicken. C'mon, I thought we were best friends."

  "We are. But it's late."

  "Okay, okay. I'll call you tomorrow and tell you all about Mister Creepy."

  There were enough treaters walking around that I wasn't afraid for mousy Becky. She'd get home safe. But would I?

  I stared at the serpent knocker and wondered what stood behind the huge wooden door. Maybe the new owner would pull me inside and hold me captive in his haunted mansion. I could only hope!

  I knocked again and waited. And waited.

  I knocked again. I banged and banged and banged. My hand was starting to hurt. I dashed around to the side, then I heard the locks coming unlatched and the creaky door open. I quickly ran back up the front steps. And there he was, standing before me: Creepy Man.

  He was tall and skinny, his face and hands pale as snow, in sharp contrast to his dark butler's uniform. He had no hair, not like he'd lost it, but like he'd never had any, and bulging green monster eyes. He looked like he had been alive for centuries. I loved him.

  "We have no more candy, miss," he said in a deep foreign accent as he peered down at me.

  "Really? But you must have something. Some peanut-butter twists? A piece of toast?"

  He opened the door, no further than necessary. I couldn't see anything behind him. What did the place look like inside? How had it changed since I had snuck in four years before? And who were "we," and did they look creepy, too? We could all be friends. I felt someone watching, looming, and I tried to step past the doorway.

  "Who else lives here?" I asked boldly. "Do you have a son?"

  "I don't have any children, miss. And I'm sorry, but we don't have a crumb left." He started to shut the door.

  "Wait!" I blurted out and blocked the door open with my shoe. I reached into my pumpkin basket and pulled out a Snickers and a spider ring. "I'd like to welcome you to the neighborhood. This is my favorite candy and my favorite Halloween treat. I hope you like them, too."

  He almost didn't smile. But then as I placed the treats in his spidery snow-white fingers, he smiled a creaky, crackly, skinny-toothed smile. Even his bulging eyes seemed to twinkle.

  "See you!" I said, dancing down the steps.

  I had met the creepy man! Everyone in town could say they had gotten candy from him, but who else could say they had given him a treat?

  I spun around on the front lawn and looked back at the grand Mansion. I saw a shadowy figure watching from the attic window. Was it Gothic Guy? I quickly stopped spinning and stared back, but there wasn't anyone there, just the ruffle of a dark curtain.

  I had just passed through the iron gate when a ghoulish vampire in a red Camaro drove up to the curb.

  "Want a ride, little girl?" Trevor asked. Matt the Farmer sat comfortably behind the wheel.

  "My mother told me not to talk to strangers," I said, taking a difficult bite of a Mary Jane. I was not in the mood for a Trevor confrontation.

  "I'm not a stranger, babe. Aren't you too old to be trick-or-treating?"

  "Aren't you too old to be toilet-papering the town?"

  Trevor got out of the car and came over to me. He looked particularly sexy. Of course, I find all vampires sexy, even fake ones.

  "What are you supposed to be?" he asked.

  "I'm dressed up as a freak, can't you tell?"

  He was trying to be cool but was stepping on himself. I was the only girl that had said no to him. The only girl in town he could never have. I had always been a mystery because of the way I dressed and behaved, and now I was standing before him dressed as his perfect dream girl.

  "So you're visiting Amityville by yourself?" He stared up at the Mansion. "You're a wicked chick, aren't you?" He glanced down, sending chills through me—he was gorgeous in his Dracula cape.

  I said nothing.

  "I bet you've never kissed a vampire before," he said, his plastic teeth shining in the moonlight.

  "Well, when you see one, let me know," I said, and started to walk away.

  He grabbed my arm.

  "Give it a rest, Trevor!"

  He pulled me in closer. "Well, I've never kissed a tennis player," he joked.

  I laughed, it was such a corny line. H
e kissed me full on the mouth, his plastic teeth getting in the way. And I let him. Maybe I was still dizzy from spinning on the lawn.

  He finally came up for air.

  "Well, now you have!" I said, pulling away. "I think Farmer Matt is waiting for you!"

  "I didn't get any candy!" he said, fingering my pumpkin basket. He pulled out a Snickers bar.

  "Hey, that's my favorite! Take a peanut-butter twist."

  He gobbled up the Snickers with his vampire teeth, which came loose and fell on the ground, dripping with chocolate and caramel. I quickly reached for them, but he grabbed my arm, spilling my candy everywhere.

  "Look what you've done!" I shouted.

  He grabbed handfuls of candy and stuffed them into his jeans. I watched as my remaining treats were strewn across the lawn. The only candy I could salvage were some boring Smarties and a smashed Mars Bar.

  "Still want to be an item?" he asked, his pockets stuffed full with my night's work as he pulled me close. "Still want to be my girlfriend?"

  Suddenly he let me go and started toward the Mansion. "Now I'll get some real candy."

  I grabbed his arm this time. Who knew what Trevor would do if he reached the door?

  "Miss me already?" he asked, startled that I hadn't run away.

  "They're out of candy."

  "Well, I'll just see about that!"

  "Their lights are off. They went to sleep."

  "This'll wake them up." He pulled out a can of spray paint from underneath his cape. "They definitely need someone who knows how to decorate!"

  He walked on toward the Mansion. I ran after him.

  "No, Trevor. Don't!"

  He pushed past me. He was going to vandalize the one thing in this town that was truly beautiful.

  "No!" I cried.

  He popped the lid and shook the can.

  I tried to pull his arm away, but he threw me down.

  "Let's see…how about 'Welcome to the neighborhood!'?"

  "Don't, Trevor, don't!"

  "Or 'Vampires love company!' I'll sign your name."

  Not only was he going to deface their property, he was going to frame me for it. He shook the can once more. And began to spray the Mansion.

  I rushed to my feet and pulled back my tennis racket. I used to play with my father, and no game was more important to win than this one. I locked my eyes on the aluminum paint-filled cylinder as if it were a ball, and smacked it as hard as I could. The can spun off into the distance, and, like my usual game, I lost my grip and the racket went flying after it. Trevor let out a yell so loud I thought the whole world would hear. I guess I had hit more than the can.

  Suddenly the front door light came on, and I heard the jingle of locks being unlatched.

  "We gotta get out of here!" I yelled to Trevor, who was crouching down, holding his wounded hand.

  I was ready to make my escape when I felt something I had never felt before: a presence. I turned around and let out a soundless gasp, because fear had taken my breath away. I stood frozen.

  There he was. Not Creepy Man. Not Mr. or Mrs. Mansion Family. But Gothic Guy, Gothic Mate, Gothic Prince. He stood before me, like a knight of night!

  His long black hair lay heavy on his shoulders. His eyes were dark, deep, lovely, lonely, adoringly intelligent, dreamy. A gateway into his dark soul. He, too, stood motionless, breathing me in. His face was pale like mine and his tight black T-shirt was tucked into his black jeans, which were tucked into monster-chic punk-rock combat boots.

  Normally fear is something I feel only when I know my mom's hosting a Mary Kay party and wants to use me as a model. But we were on private property, and my curiosity to meet this strange creature was overwhelmed by my terror of being caught.

  The tennis shoes really were a good choice tonight. I could hear Trevor yelling at me as he followed me in flight, "You monster! You broke my hand!"

  I raced through the open gate and climbed into the waiting Camaro.

  "Drive me home!" I screamed. "Now!"

  Matt was startled by his unexpected passenger. He just stared at me, in silent denial.

  "Drive me now! Or I'll tell the police you were involved!"

  "The police?" he blurted out. "What's Trevor got us into now?"

  I could see the angry Count Trevor running down the driveway, his cape flowing in the wind. He was almost at the gate. Gothic Guy hadn't moved but continued to stare straight at me.

  "Drive! Just drive the freakin' car!" I screamed at the top of my lungs.

  The motor started and we peeled away until the Mansion and its unusual occupants were out of view. I turned around and looked out the back window at a shouting Dracula Trevor chasing after us.

  "Happy Halloween," I said to Matt as I let out a sigh of relief.

  8 Looking for Trouble

  I was making my way to history class when I spotted Trevor walking ahead of me. I noticed something unusual about his indoor ensemble— he was wearing a golf glove on his right hand.

  "Making a fashion statement?" I teased, catching up to him. "I guess it's a good thing you don't play soccer with your hands!"

  He ignored my comments and continued to walk to class.

  "Guess you'll have to miss a few sessions of graffiti club," I joked. "Since your trigger finger is out of commission."

  He stopped and stared at me coldly. But he thought better of speaking and walked on.

  Ouch! I guess I hurt more than his hand.

  "I see you made it home safely," I continued, pursuing him. "Matt took great care of me. He's a perfect gentleman!"

  But then I realized everything. I had taken away Trevor's pride, his girlfriends, and now had forced his best friend to betray him and side with the enemy. I felt sorry for him…almost.

  Trevor paused, staring down at me like he was going to explode. But I was distracted by a strange figure talking to the secretary in the principal's office. It was Creepy Man! Standing pale in the bright fluorescent light, his long gray overcoat shrouding his skinny body. And hanging from his pale, bony hand was my dad's tennis racket.

  I pulled a fuming Trevor to the wall, where we could safely overhear the conversation.

  "What are you doing?" Trevor asked, trying to wriggle away.

  "Shhh! That's the butler from the Mansion!" I whispered, pointing.

  "So what?"

  "He's looking for us!"

  "How can he be looking for us? It was dark, stupid!"

  "That guy saw us! He probably found the spray cans on the lawn and whatever stuff you sprayed on the wall as proof! And he has my dad's tennis racket!"

  "Damn, freak, if you hadn't hit me none of this would have happened."

  "If you hadn't been born, none of this would have happened, you creep. Shhh, already!"

  "Sir, you can leave the racket with us and we can make an announcement," I heard Mrs. Gerber reply. "What did you say the girl was wearing?"

  "A tennis outfit, miss."

  "For Halloween?" She laughed and reached for the racket.

  But Creepy Man drew back. "I'd prefer to keep it in my possession for now. If you find the owner, she knows where she can claim it. Good day," he said and bowed to a charmed Mrs. Gerber.

  I freaked and pulled Trevor behind a statue of Teddy Roosevelt. "It's a trap," I said, squeezing Trevor's gloved hand. "I'll show up and the police will be waiting with handcuffs!"

  Students stared at Creepy Man as he walked creepily toward the front doors, glancing around as he left. He was looking for us.

  "He's taking the evidence with him, and that evidence is worth two hundred dollars," I whispered to Trevor.

  "Yeah, the evidence," he said. "Against you!"

  "Me? Your fingerprints were all over it. That guy saw you, too."

  "He only saw me running. He could have been after you. You were mad he ran out of candy, so you sprayed his house until he heard you making noise, then you dropped your candy and tennis racket when the lights came on," Trevor said, like he was Sherlock Holmes sol
ving the Case of the Missing Tennis Racket.

  "You're going to pin this on me? I can't believe you!"

  "Don't worry, I don't think you'll go to jail over this, babe. You'll just get a major spanking by that crazy butler."

  I had gotten in enough trouble for things I had done; I didn't want to be punished for things I hadn't done.

  Trevor started walking to class.

  I caught up to him. "I'll drag you down so bad if anything happens!"

  "Who will they believe, freak—an honors student who is a star soccer player or a two-bit gothic chick with one friend, who spends more time in the principal's office than in class?"

  "You owe me a tennis racket!" I shouted helplessly as Trevor sauntered off.

  I admit it, Trevor had avenged himself for the Naked Woods Night. Because of him I'd lost my dad's fancy-schmancy racket. And more importantly, he'd made me the enemy in the eyes of the only people in town who might understand me and be my friends. They were my freedom from Dullsville and my connection to humanity, but now because of Trevor, the Mansion would be harder to get into than when it was boarded up.

  9 Living Hell

  "You what?" my father yelled during dinner after I told him I lost his racket.

  "Well, it's not exactly lost. I just don't have it."

  "Then get it back if you know where it is."

  "That would be impossible right now."

  "But I have a game tomorrow!"

  "I know, Dad, but you have other rackets." I tried to deflate the power of that one particular racket. Big mistake!

  "Others? It's that easy for you? just go buy another Prince Precision OS racket?"

  "I didn't mean that—"

  "It's bad enough you deface property at school!"

  "I'm sorry, but—"

  "Sorry's not good enough this time. Sorry's not going to win me my game tomorrow. My racket is. I can't believe I let you take it out of here in the first place!"

  "But, Dad, I'm sure you made mistakes when you were a hippie teenager!"

  "And I paid for them! Like you're going to pay for my racket."

  My bank account had about five dollars in it, the remains of my Sweet Sixteenth birthday money. And I still owed Premiere Video twenty-five dollars in late fees. I quickly did the math in my head. Dad was going to have to keep my allowance until I was thirty.