With every crunch of the captain and boom of a cannon, I felt like my head was behind enemy lines.
"Turn that off!" I whined, and switched the channel to the Home Shopping Network.
A petite blond with a perfect french manicure was modeling bedazzling silver bracelets.
"Hurry, there's only fifty seconds left!" I warned Billy Boy. "You could own one in just five easy payments. The blue topaz matches your eyes."
Billy Boy raced to the TV and wrangled the control out of my hand. "Get off!" he said, switching it back to the History Channel. "If you'd watch, maybe you'd learn something. Then your report card could be framed in Dad's office, instead of ending up in his paper shredder."
I stirred cream and a pound of sugar into a java-filled Dullsville Country Club mug and poured myself a small bowl of Count Chocula. The gun battle and excessive crunching continued. I could barely open my charcoal eyelids wide enough to see the chocolate vampires floating in the milk among the marshmallow ghosts and bats.
My mom burst into the kitchen in her Corporate Cathy gear—a crisp gray DKNY pantsuit and Kate Spade mules—and opened the fridge door. "Morning," she said gleefully. "I thought you'd never get up."
"I didn't either," I grumbled.
"I saw Mrs. Mitchell at the pharmacy last night buying Trevor some cough syrup," she said, placing her Tupperware bowl filled with low-fat, low-taste premade salad in her Bloomingdale's tote bag. "Trevor must have the same cold you had."
"Yeah, he's been out of school. It's been the first time I only detested school instead of hating it."
"Well, I think he's on the mend. His mother told me a girl has been bringing him protein shakes and he's feeling better."
"You mean one of the cheerleaders, right?" I queried.
"No. Mrs. Mitchell made it very clear this girl is new to town and dresses—well, not very conservatively," my mom said, grabbing a bottled water and closing the fridge door.
"You mean, like me?"
My mother paused.
It was Luna.
"Is it the white-haired girl Trevor was with at the Spring Carnival?" Billy Boy asked.
"It may be," my mom answered. "I didn't see them together."
"I just saw her from a distance," my brother said. "But a kid at Math Club swears she has a twin. They were spotted coming out of the cemetery. Her brother was dressed like he just stepped off a pirate ship.
"Kids are saying they sleep in sewers," Billy Boy continued.
"It's not nice to gossip," my mother warned.
"I heard they're ghosts. One dude claims you can see right through them," Henry said.
"And talk about tattoos and piercing," Billy Boy added, "I heard he has more holes in his head than you," Billy Boy said to me.
"I have tattoos," I said, rolling up my sleeve and showing him a bat tattoo.
"Your dad told you to wash that off," my mother advised.
"And he has pierced kneecaps," my brother went on.
"Well, I'll pierce your kneecaps if you don't stop gossiping like two old ladies."
"All right. Boys, you are going to miss your bus if you don't finish soon," my mother ordered.
Henry and Billy Boy placed their empty bowls in the dishwasher.
"Mom, did Mrs. Mitchell say this girl brought Trevor protein shakes?" I asked.
"Supposedly they are special shakes from Romania. I asked Mrs. Mitchell to get the recipe for me."
Delicious drink, I thought. Ingredients: One cup crushed ice. One banana. One vial vampire's blood.
"I don't think you'd like this particular Romanian drink."
Finally we got a reprieve from the gunfire, and a commercial for Garlic One gelcaps came on the TV. Billy Boy aimed the remote to switch it off.
"No, wait," I said.
"You're suddenly interested in history?" Billy Boy asked proudly. "Maybe I'm rubbing off on you after all."
"Shh…"
My mom followed Billy Boy and Henry as they headed for the front door.
"Garlic One," the commercial continued. "Natural and odorless. Helps promote cardiovascular- health with just one capsule a day."
Their slogan should say, "An odor-free way to keep the vampires away."
I was struck with an idea. Why hadn't I thought of it sooner? There was nothing I loved more than a brand-new plan!
9 Haunted House Calls
"Hey, Beck, do you mind stopping at Paxx Pharmacy?" I asked my best friend when I hopped into her pickup. "I just have to buy a few things on the way to school."
"But Matt will be waiting by the bleachers for us. I don't want to be late."
"It'll only take a sec," I pleaded.
The old girl was as hot-glued to her soccer sweetheart as I was to my vampire boyfriend. I would have been sickened if I didn't understand her amorous devotion.
"Okay," she finally agreed. "I could get Matt some candy. He loves red licorice."
I remember when Becky and I would hang outside Paxx's and eat twines of red licorice until we felt ill. Now, instead of creating new memories with me, she was creating them with Matt.
I turned to my best friend, who was wearing khakis and a pale blue button-down shirt. As long as I'd known Becky, she'd worn jeans and an oversized sweater. How long had I not noticed the change?
"Besides, it will give us a chance to hang out," she added kindly.
Becky was right. I'd been so wrapped up in diverting the union between Trevor and Luna that I hadn't any time left to talk, or even open my eyes!
Now that we had beaus, we didn't cling to each other like we had before. Did that mean we didn't need each other at all?
"It's been forever since we've had girl time," I agreed.
"I know, it's great we have boyfriends, but I'm missing our friendship."
"Me too!" I said. "We have to make time for us."
"It's a pact," she said, extending her pinky finger.
"A pact," I said, entwining my own in hers.
More than spending time apart, I felt like I was in the dark alone, not being able to share with my best friend the fact that our town was crawling with vampires.
"If I tell you something, can you promise not to tell anyone? Not even Matt?" I asked.
"Is it about sex?"
"No. It's even more top secret."
"What's more top secret than sex?"
I was ready to spill my guts. To tell my best friend why my boyfriend was never seen in daylight. To explain to her why Jagger drove a hearse. Why the ghostlike Luna had suddenly come to Dullsville.
But Becky's cherub face looked so happy, her biggest concern being what new outfit to wear to school, what brand of candy treat to buy for Matt. I couldn't spoil her perfect world.
"We're having a pop quiz in Shank's class tomorrow."
"Duh," she said, rolling her eyes. "Everyone knows that."
"Really?" I asked, almost horrified. "Maybe I'm losing my touch."
I was hunkered down in the vitamin-and-herb aisle, studying Mother Nature's remedies and filling my red plastic shopping basket with vitamin C and boxes of Garlic One gelcaps, when Becky finally caught up to me.
"I thought you were feeling better," she said, holding several packages of red licorice.
"I am, but I want to stock up."
"Garlic tablets?" she asked, confused. "I thought you were over your vampire obsession now that you are dating Alexander."
"I am. I just saw this commercial—" "Speaking of Alexander," she interrupted excitedly, "would you two want to meet up at Hatsy's Diner after the soccer game tonight?"
How could I tell my best friend no after we'd just made a pinky-swear pact to hang out more? As long as I was with Alexander and Trevor was home sick, I reasoned, we were all safe.
"Yes, that's a great idea. I don't think Alexander's ever been to Hatsy's."
Becky and I brought our purchases to the counter. We stood, unnoticed, as an elderly clerk hid behind a tabloid mag and her teenage clerkmate filed packets of developed
prints.
"Those two kids I was telling you about were in here last night," the elderly clerk gossiped. "I think they are cousins of that weird mansion family on Benson Hill."
"I heard they look like walking corpses," the younger one chimed back.
"They do. I just don't get why kids today think it's cool to look like they've just come out of a coffin."
"I've heard one of them drives a hearse."
Just then the elderly clerk put down her paper and spotted me. Her eyes bugged out like she'd seen a ghost.
"I'm sorry," she apologized. "Have you been waiting long?"
"An eternity!" I said.
So Jagger and Luna were beginning to make their presence known throughout Dullsville. Were they bored, careless, or marking their territory?
Even though Trevor and I'd spent our lives at each other's throats, I didn't want Luna and Jagger after his. Besides they were looking to do far more damage than wringing his neck. A mixture of emotions flooded through me—protecting a fellow Dullsvillian from a deadly duo, thwarting a plan to have a nefarious soccer snob wreaking havoc, and diverting a plot to have my nemesis turned into a vampire before I was.
I'd have to get these tablets to Trevor. At any moment, Jagger or Luna could strike—or in their case, bite.
Though keeping up my new vampire identity was exhausting, I was really beginning to enjoy it. Everything I felt before as a vampire-obsessed goth I now had to live out—my distaste for the light and passion for darkness, having a secret identity, and being an insider instead of an outsider. I imagined the rest—flying high in Dullsville's sky, living in a spooky dungeon, Alexander and I cuddling the day away in a king-size coffin.
As the sun began to set, I rode my bike to Trevor's, with my Paxx Pharmacy bag safely inside my Olivia Outcast backpack. I'd already called Jameson and told him I'd be a few minutes late to meet Alexander. It was crucial that I keep up my vampire charade and wait until darkness until I visited Trevor, just in case Trevor spilled my visit to Luna.
If he shared with her that I'd visited him after school the first day he was sick, Luna could assume Trevor was delirious from his cold medicine. But now that my nemesis was on the mend, I had to cover my tracks. I couldn't give them any reason to suspect I was still a mortal.
"I've been waiting all day for you," Trevor said as he opened the front door. He was wearing plaid flannel pajama pants and a long-sleeve Big Ten surf shirt and was sporting a much healthier glow—a bad sign he'd be coming back to school, but a good sign he hadn't been bitten.
"You missed me?" I asked with a saccharine grin.
"I thought you were Luna," he said, disappointed. "We're not buying Ghoul Scout cookies today," he said, closing the door.
I quickly blocked the door with my boot.
"I'm putting the final touches on my health project," I said, opening the door and stepping inside.
"Do you want me to feel better or put me in the morgue?"
"Do I have a choice?"
"Why don't you write down in your report the reason for Trevor Mitchell's illness.
Two words: Raven Madison. I'm sure the Infectious Disease Institute has heard of you," Trevor said.
I ignored his rude comments and walked into his newly painted sunflower yellow kitchen, which still smelled like fresh paint.
"I've heard you've been getting visits from a ghostly candy stripper. I mean, striper," I said with a grin.
"Sounds like someone is jealous."
I pulled out my Paxx Pharmacy bag and placed it on the granite-top kitchen island.
"My mom already got me medicine."
"It's just a few things so I can get extra credit. Vitamin C, a bag of cough drops, and Garlic One capsules."
"Garlic capsules? I'll smell like an Italian restaurant."
"They're good for cardiovascular health. Should help you on the soccer field."
"Didn't you see all my trophies? I can play in my sleep," he said arrogantly.
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."
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