V is for...Vampire

by Adele Griffin

  Under the picture, Lexie had written:

  Mina Pringle says she went to Paris last summer.

  But she really spent her days with

  her International Bird-Watching

  Society buddies.

  What else could she be hiding?

  V Is for Vote 4 Lexie

  4 9th-Grade Prez!

  A smear campaign was low-down, dirty politics at its best. And, Lexie promised herself, she had played fair by the smear rules. She had been vicious. She had been underhanded. She’d used her vampire powers only a little bit and only because they seemed to be itching for her to use them. For example, she’d called on a few of the mice that lived in Parrish’s kitchen walls to tear down some of Mina’s posters last night, while the school was closed. No rodent would dare disobey a vampire’s command. Even if Lexie was rusty in her animal-language skills, she knew the word for “destroy.”

  She’d also tripped Mina during this morning’s fire drill. Okay, maybe that had been immature. But it had been an impulse thing, where Lexie used her infamous, instant double-jointed karate kick. But Mina needed to look clum sier, Lexie decided. Less leader-y.

  Except that when Mina went flying, Dylan had caught Lexie’s eye. He didn’t say anything, but his face seemed to question her.

  The Parrot Poster Prank was working best. Listening to the kids hooting in the halls, Lexie had to smile. From a revenge perspective, she decided, this might be the best day of her New World life.

  Her favorite moment came later that afternoon, when she saw that somebody had Magic Markered the word GEEK before the word TINGLES on the MINA PRINGLE GIVES ME TINGLES banner.

  I’ve destroyed her campaign, thought Lexie as she ate lunch alone since Pete had fencing practice. And it feels so sweet.

  If only she could banish that memory of Dylan’s questioning eyes from her mind.

  It didn’t help that she was feeling a bit prickly and all-around achy. Probably heartburn. Last night, after she’d printed up her copies of Mina in her bird costume, Lexie had done the unthinkable and eaten a mosquito—just for the rush of that squeegee of blood.

  But, she reasoned uneasily, revenge was a vampire thing. In the Old World, vampires were always swearing vengeance on this family or that village. In tapping her vengeful nature, Lexie edged closer to her more-vampish self. It was a bit scary to think about it.

  I’ll re-humanize after the election, she decided, crossing her heart. In my heart, I know I’m still the same old Lexie. But right now, I need to focus on victory.

  “Troll girlie is crying hoo hoo hoo in hers bed,” reported Blix later that afternoon. “Us spies in her window.”

  “Good. Keep spying.” Lexie figured that if the pixies kept making mischief for Mina, they wouldn’t bother anyone else. So her bedroom window was left conveniently cracked open. Now the pixies could stay or go as they pleased. Mostly, they stayed, cleaning Lexie’s bedroom until it gleamed and making fun of how Mina had danced the Wiley Eye Rabbit (even though Lexie had danced it worse).

  “You pixies dislike Mina more than I do,” Lexie mentioned.

  “Us hates cupcake-stealer pixie-pretender troll girl who called us insane!” screeched Mitzi, so loud that Lexie had to cover her ears.

  Later that week, Mina surprised Lexie by making an announcement at the end of homeroom. “Hi, everyone. I just want to remind you that I’ll be giving out crumble-top peach bars in the cafeteria today.” She grinned as the classroom applauded. “One more thing. By now, all of you know I like bird-watching. Well, good. I want people to get to know every aspect of my character. In living your life, you should never be too timid and squeamish about your actions. All life is an experiment, and the more experiments you make, the better.”

  As she walked back to her seat, Mina actually had the nerve to look proud. But Lexie was horrified. Mina was quoting Ralph Waldo Emerson! And, once again, she wasn’t attributing it. Nobody seemed to notice.

  Lexie’s vampire blood surged with aggression, and before she could stop herself, she’d jumped to the front of the room. “I also have something to say,” she announced as she picked up a chair in one hand and, in a movement so fluid and expert it could not have been called human, balanced its back leg off the tip of her nose.

  The class gasped. Mr. Fellows’s jaw came unhinged. Right as Pete’s best friend, Alex Chung, reached for his cell phone to snap a photo, Lexie let the chair fall.

  “And that is, when electing your class president,” she continued as she set the chair neatly in place behind its desk, “never, ever settle for ordinary.”

  No quotes, no poems. No photographic evidence. Just a wink and a small bow as Lexie headed back to her seat amid a murmur of amazement and scattered, awed applause.

  She could feel her fangs scrape against her bottom gums, and her temperature had dropped to a chilly Old World level. The strength and balance of such a pure vampire antic had surely cost her human points. She could almost hear Orville sighing in despair.

  The look on Mina’s face was worth it.

  The next day, with help from the pixies, Lexie had created another sign, this one made from gluing two photographs side by side. The first photo was of herself tending a cherry-tomato vine from her kitchen window box. Next to it was a photo of Mina, mouth open, eating a big, sloppy cheeseburger.

  Underneath, she’d lettered:

  Carnivore Pringle’s policy is like

  her lunch—dead on arrival.

  BUT

  Veggie-loving Livingstone will

  nurture our school.

  V Is 4 Vote 4 L.L.!

  This caption wasn’t quite true. Lexie had pixi-morphed the photo—which had originally been of Mina eating a cheese sandwich. But a greasy, dead-cow cheeseburger looked ickier against her gorgeous tomatoes.

  It had been Blix who’d shown Lexie how to pixi-morph. One touch of his finger to the photo and he’d supplied Mina with a sweaty upper lip, a double chin, and a gross, greasy, gristly burger. The final image made Mina look like a pig and a slob.

  Though Lexie had some doubts, the pixies’ enthusiasm gave her confidence. It was just the usual campaign-prank stuff, after all.

  “Nice work, Blix. You two are my stealth weapons,” Lexie admitted to them that evening. “My sign was a hit.”

  The pixies twittered and threw some dust around, pinking and purpling Lexie’s room as Lexie sat on her bed and tore the paper from her hamburger tartare that she’d ordered from Boeuf, a fancy French restaurant. It had wiped out her allowance, but her taste for raw meat had sharpened this week. All day at school, she’d day dreamed of sinking her fangs into something other than fruits.

  And the minute after I win the election, she promised herself, I’ll resume my principled, vegetarian lifestyle.

  The problem was, what was happening to her now? What was she doing, eating a pound of raw beef before dinner? I’m the same old Lexie, she reassured herself for the umpteenth time, but she wasn’t sure she believed it.

  Downstairs, Lex could hear her father preparing dinner, a mushroom-and-kale casserole that was his specialty. Eee-yew.

  When she appeared for dinner, her mother scrutinized her. “You okay, Lex? You look a little glassy-eyed.” She placed her hand on Lexie’s forehead. “And you feel very cool. Make sure you double up on your irons, okay?”

  “Sure.” She reached for her cup of cranberry juice and pretended to sip.

  “Do you think you’ll be feeling good enough to come with Maddy and me to visit Madame Peabody’s house on Thursday?” asked Hudson. “She told us she could give us some tips for our haunted house.”

  “And between the two of you,” added Maddy, “we should have some bloodcurdling ideas.”

  Lexie frowned. “What do you mean, ‘between the two of us’?”

  Her little sister shrugged. “Just, ’cause Madame Peabody’s so witchy and you’re so sneaky. I’ve seen those campaign posters you and the pixies have been making.”

  From upstai
rs, the pixies screeched with pride.

  Maddy was watching Lexie closely. “Are you wearing lipstick on your lips or is that blood?” she whispered.

  Startled, Lexie wiped her mouth. “Cranberry juice,” she muttered.

  But Maddy’s nose was twitching. “I didn’t fall off the turnip truck yesterday,” she hissed. “If you don’t help us with the haunted house, I’m telling Mom and Dad that you’re back on blood.”

  “Your threat falls on deaf ears,” said Lexie. But she knew Maddy was serious. When it came to blackmail, Maddy was always serious.

  Next Monday at school, Lexie floated through the halls, accepting smiles from kids who hadn’t known who she was until this past week. “Heya, Lex! You got my vote.” A burly guy gave her a high five as she passed. Burly Guy was in karate class with her. What was his name again?

  “Mine too,” said the gap-toothed girl standing next to him, flashing Lexie the victory sign. “That thing you did with the chair last week—truly awesome.”

  “Thanks . . .” As Lexie flashed her fingers in an extra-long V-for-victory sign, she made a mental note to brush up on names.

  Another reason you’re not a true politician, nagged her inner voice. You’re bad with names.

  “Hey, sexy Lexie. Guess what?” Dylan Easterby bounded up, smiling at Lexie as if she was his best friend.

  Her heart immediately started doing the rumba. Did Dylan really think she was sexy? She tried to seem unfazed while at the same time look extra-sexy. “Okay, let me guess. You’re voting for me, too?”

  “More interesting. It looks like I’ll be running against you. Mr. Fellows said it was unprecedented, but he’s letting me. Let’s face it—Mina’s ditzy, and Neil’s a snore.”

  “And I’m . . . ?”

  Dylan’s green eyes glinted. “You’re more poet than politico.”

  Lexie arched an eyebrow, but what could she say? He was right, of course. “So what’s your strategy?”

  “I’m gonna inject some adrenaline into this race. I’ve got tons of ideas about how to improve our athletic department.” He flashed his charming Dylan grin. “Maybe I’ll even get karate approved as a spring sport. You’d like that, wouldn’t ya? I saw you give a good kick the other day in fire drill.”

  “Oh . . . right.” Lexie’s mind spun. This was bad. First of all, how would Dylan be impressed with her victory if he himself wanted to win? Second, he was obviously on to her lame attack on Mina. “That’s a smart platform, Dylan,” she mustered.

  “You bet. Just wanted to tell ya in person. Now I gotta find Needleburger. Oh—and may the best frosh win.” Dylan gave Lexie a parting, good-natured jab in the ribs before he spun around to shoot an imaginary ball through an imaginary hoop. Then he turned back. “And Lex? I’m aiming to run an honest campaign. Just so you know, I’m not into tricks. On or off the field.”

  11

  CHARACTER IS DESTINY?

  With everyone so excited about our student election, I’ve allowed two more candidates to put their names on the ticket,” announced Mr. Fellows the next morning. “Dylan Easterby and Riley Burnett. And now I have officially closed the ballot. No more nominees. Five’s plenty.”

  Riley Burnett?

  All heads in the class turned. Riley was new this year. She was the kind of girl who hardly talked, with the kind of face people hardly remembered.

  Lexie was shocked. Poor Riley. Who would vote for that mute mouse? If she and Pete were on friendlier terms, they’d have laughed about it. Meantime, thought Lexie, the pixies surely can scoop me some dirt on Riley.

  That is, if I even need it.

  As of yesterday, according to Jasmine Lee—who loved statistics and probabilities—Lexie was in the lead to win. Jasmine announced it in the cafeteria, and by the end of lunch Mina’s friend, Loo Suskind, had sidled up to her.

  “I bought you a cup of pudding,” said Loo. “Caramel.”

  “Oh, thanks.” Lexie was delighted. She loved caramel pudding.

  Loo handed her a spoon and a napkin. She sat quietly as Lexie spooned up the dessert. “Jasmine says you’ve got a good chance to win,” Loo mentioned quietly, “and I just want to say I always saw you as a really edgy goth girl. Also, I don’t think your feet and fingers are too long like Mina always says.”

  “Thanks.” Lexie wiped her mouth. Loo was fantastic at sucking up. It was kind of amazing and embarrassing.

  “Another thing,” continued Loo, “if you get elected, I hope you’ll appoint me to social chair. I’d be awesome at it. All I think about is socializing. As Mr. Fellows might say, being social is my avocation.”

  “I’ll remember that,” murmured Lexie, staring at her empty cup of pudding, which she now saw for what it was—a political bribe.

  “Cool! Then I’ll put out the word—vote for Lex!” exclaimed Loo, flashing her best socialite, high-wattage smile. “Our only real problem is Dylan. But you’ll scoop something on him, right?”

  “Sure.” Inwardly, Lexie quaked. Was that how Loo saw her, as a campaign sneak? She hurried home after school in a cloud of troubled thoughts.

  And was Loo right? Would she have to get dirt on Dylan? What a depressing idea. The truth was, Lexie already knew the dirt on her longtime crush because she’d had her eye on him for years. Dylan couldn’t do karate, for one thing—though he practiced every night in his underwear. He was also bad at history, and every time one of his quizzes or papers came back, he mashed it into the bottom of his book bag. Also, his little brother, Charlie, could beat him in an arm-wrestling contest.

  Using this private information against her love seemed horribly heartless. This election was turning her conscience upside down. How could she impress Dylan and at the same time derail him? It defeated the whole purpose of the campaign.

  Lexie gave a hop of frustration and was surprised when her feet didn’t hit the pavement immediately. She looked down at her size-12, double-narrow lace-up black boots. Was she losing gravity? Uh-oh. If she was losing gravity, she was losing humanity. If she was losing humanity, vampness had the edge.

  And why wouldn’t it? I’ve been totally reckless, she thought. The more I revert to vampire ways, the harder they are to give up.

  Lexie was so lost in her troubles, she hadn’t noticed she’d passed her house.

  Then she retraced her steps and saw why.

  Where is our house? She bounced the message, hoping her brother or sister would catch it.

  It’s here, Hudson bounced back. It’s invisible is all. Feel your way.

  Easier bounced than done. Lexie tripped up the house’s invisible steps and opened the invisible door, relieved to find that once inside, she could see the interior, sort of. All the furniture was cloaked in cobwebs and dust.

  “Spit it out,” Lexie demanded between sneezes. “What’d you guys do to our home? Is this something you cooked up from the Old World Handebooke offe Tryckes and Craftees?”

  “Maybe we slightly over-spelled.” Maddy stood in the shadows, chewing her fingernails. Today her costume was Maid of Murder, a French maid’s uniform, ketchup splat tered, plus a rubber dagger. The morning’s catchphrase had been, “Tend the bedding, then a beheading.”

  “Slightly? You made the house disappear. That’s worse than turning it pixie pink.” Lexie shook her head. “Mom and Dad will hit the roof.”

  “We’d wanted it de-varnished so it would look spookier. Instead, it vanished,” complained Hudson, whose costume was a ghost made from eco-friendly hemp. “Haven’t you ever messed up an Old World trick before?”

  “Don’t be a blunderhead,” growled Lexie.

  “Can you help us un-vanish the house?” asked Maddy. “Pul-eeeze?”

  Usually, Lexie would have helped. That was the job of the oldest, to get the youngests out of a jam. Especially before the parents came home.

  So she was surprised to hear herself say, “No. Also, I think you’re both lumpish rubes to use that book so stu pidly. Figure it out yourself.”

  Then she
felt terrible. She’d never called her brother and sister names before. And now in less than one minute she’d used spiteful Old World insults like blunderhead and lumpish rubes to describe them.

  Just as Pete had warned—she was using words like rocks.

  Was it because of her extra vampness? If so, there was no time to dwell on it.

  “Blix! Mitzi!” she called as she opened the door to her bedroom. “I might need some more dirt, this time on a girl named Riley Burnett.”

  “Shh!” Blix snapped. “You woke us up.”

  Lexie peered more closely at her bed. The pixies were taking a nap—but not as hedgehogs. They didn’t look like pixies anymore, either. They’d grown taller, almost as tall as Lexie. They’d lost their wings. Except for his all-purple clothes and a purplish Mohawk, Blix resembled a regular kid. And Mitzi, whose peony pink jeans and glittery, baby pink T-shirt complemented her rosy pink cheeks, was utterly adorable.

  “You’re talking different,” Lexie noticed out loud. “Not pixish.”

  “The New World is rubbing off on us,” said Blix.

  “And we’ve been siphoning all the spare human energy that you’re giving off since you’ve ‘fallen off the wagon’—again, as the humans say in slang,” Mitzi added.

  “Aha.” Lexie hadn’t realized that her discarded human energies were being recycled. The pixies were sneaky.

  “Take us to your school tomorrow,” said Mitzi, hopping over to Lexie’s desk and handing her a folder. “Here’s our signed paperwork so we can visit as students on a special permit from the country of Butterscratch.”

  “What? Butterscratch isn’t even a real place.” With a sinking heart, Lexie looked at the pix-forged documents, complete with seals and signatures. “Why do you want to go to Parrish? What do you want to learn at school?”