I Heart Vampires

by Siona McCabre

  I was searching. Reaching. Hoping that if I stared hard enough, she would finish the turn of her head and reveal to me who on earth she was. The more I looked at her, the more I felt as though she was whispering to me, but in a language I couldn’t understand.

  ****

  It was as normal a day as a vampire can have in high school. You know, vigorous avoidance of the sun during painstakingly slow transportation to bastion of learning. Dreary taking of attendance in homeroom. Skillful evasion of any conversation hinting at any friction in my life. The usual. And then…history.

  Paige and I had been working together on our history project for a few days now, but only during allotted class time, during which I also tried to keep a respectable, safe distance from the girl of my dreams. I usually managed by situating myself across the table, and leaning far enough in my chair to nearly fall backward. Today was no different. Not at first.

  “So we’ll have a section here that’s purely background. It’d be fun if we could do something visual, like a cut-out of the different social groups with some basic info on them.” Paige had been on a roll since we started our in-class session today.

  I may have had super-hearing skills, but that didn’t translate to super-listening skills. I’d been fixating on the pleasant ring of her voice for about ten minutes without a single word she’d said registering.

  “Are you listening to a single word I’m saying?” she asked.

  “Yes, of course. I think it’s a great idea,” I lied.

  “Which part?”

  Busted.

  “Uh, the whole thing?” Man, I suck.

  She sighed. “Come on, Noah. I’m not going to do this all by myself.”

  “You’re not doing this all by yourself,” I said sincerely.

  “Then I need you to be really here.”

  “I’m right here.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I know.” If there was anything I was ever meant to do, it was to be there for her. I suppose that applied to history projects as well. I just hoped she would let me. I smiled ever so slightly, hoping to reassure her.

  It seemed to work because she smiled back, and a soft pink flush rose to her cheeks. She took a breath and started again. “Okay, so, how do you think we should present the dating customs of the time?”

  “I like your idea.”

  “Which was?”

  “Having a visual of different characters and somehow show how the custom differed in each level of society.”

  “Well, well, look who’s back in the game!”

  “I may have been paying more attention than you think,” I said playfully.

  “Wow, cryptic. I like it. That would have been totally creepy if it hadn’t come off so sexy—” she cut herself off, but not in time.

  “Sexy, huh?” I teased.

  “Uh…um…shut up!” she stammered. Her eyes darted down to her paper, then away toward the board, then back at the paper. She took a breath. The silence was electric. “So, Noah, I was wondering if you wanted to maybe come over after school to work on this?”

  I almost choked on my own spit. Needless to say, I was struggling to keep my cool and temper my surprise, so all I managed was a mumble.

  “Sure.”

  “Sweet.” She smiled. “I’ll see you later then.”

  And then as if on cue, the obnoxious scream of the bell tore through the hum of conversation. In one fell swoop Paige gathered her books in her arms and flitted away into the stream of students racing to their next class. I sat stunned and slackjawed for a minute before I made a beeline for Malcolm’s locker.

  ****

  “Wait, so she suggested it out of nowhere?” Malcolm asked.

  “Pretty much.”

  “Pretty much what?”

  “I mean it was pretty much out of nowhere. She caught me totally spacing out and said I needed to ‘be there’ on this project.”

  “Then she just invites you over?”

  “Yup.” It took everything in me to keep from grinning. “And she called me sexy.”

  “What?!”

  “You heard me.”

  “You’re kidding me!”

  “Nope!”

  “So what happened?”

  “I made a comment about me paying more attention to her than she thinks.”

  “Okay, stalker.”

  “And then she said it would have sounded creepy if it didn’t sound so sexy! That’s good, right?”

  “I think so.”

  “What do you mean, you think so? She called me sexy!”

  “She also kind of called you creepy.”

  “But not really.”

  “But kind of.”

  It felt good to be joking with Malcolm. Things were really beginning to feel almost normal again. “What are you, jealous?” I softly hit him on the shoulder. Had I actually punched his arm, I probably would have shattered it.

  He recoiled a bit and a twinge of discomfort quickly crossed his face. It took me by surprise. Was Malcolm jealous? About what? Paige? That seemed impossible. I mean, yes, she was perfect, but Malcolm had never expressed having feelings for her beyond friendship. I figured I was reading too much into it.

  “No, I’m not jealous, you jerk,” Malcolm asserted. He rubbed his arm where I’d tapped him with my fist. Maybe I hadn’t quite learned to control my strength. “I just don’t want you to get your hopes up too much. You know, she’s still kind of damaged from Harold.”

  “So, you’re just looking after me?” I clarified.

  Malcolm grinned and punched me back, wincing almost imperceptibly at the impact. “What else am I going to do with you? You’re hopeless without me!”

  I shook my head and we both laughed. For the first time since my death, I began to feel at ease.

  Chapter 7

  I was on my way to class, hoping that I wouldn’t turn into a butterfly again or drain the blood from a passing classmate, when I spotted Lisa applying lip-gloss, with the help of the mirror she’d hung in her locker.

  “Lisa!” I yelled over the din. She didn’t break her concentration, so I tried again as I carved a path through the student body. “Hey, LISA!” Nothing. I knew I only had a precious minute or so before we all had to be in class.

  Finally I reached her. “Lisa—”

  “Oh, hey Noah, what’s up?”

  “So, you remember your party?”

  Her face twisted in amusement. “Um, yeah. I think I would remember my own party.”

  I ignored her obvious sarcasm. “There was a girl there.”

  “And?”

  Okay, now it was kind of getting annoying. “Do you remember a girl with long blond hair and a huge blue-green tattoo on her arm?”

  She scrunched her nose in thought. It wasn’t looking good. “Oh yeah, I think I remember her.”

  “Great! Good! Okay, so can you tell me who she is?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean you invited her, right? Is she a friend from another school or something?”

  Lisa shook her head. “I have no idea who she is, sorry. I had a lot of crashers that night.” With that, she turned to the mirror, smacked her perfectly glossed lips together, then shut the locker and left for class.

  Dead end.

  The rest of the day moved along at a glacial pace. Between my anticipation of the study session with Paige and puzzling over the whole becoming a vampire thing, time slowed to a crawl. Before the end of the agonizingly slow day, it was settled: Paige’s house at eight o’clock. This left me plenty of time to make my stealthy way home, and the freedom to bike to her house under the soothing cover of darkness. It also gave me a good several hours in which to stew in my own nervous anxiety about going over to her house for the first time ever.

  Once I finally got home, I decided to focus on something a little less terrifying. Namely, the living dead. I went through two-dozen vampire chat rooms before I finally came across one where people weren’t debating whether vamp
ires sparkle, and which coffins are the hottest to hook up in. The chat on the vampire site was categorized as Historical Interest. Figuring it was worth a shot, I logged on again as BLOODBOY957. There were eight people logged on, but only three of them seemed to be interacting.

  OPOSITIVE: BUT THAT WOULDN’T NECESSARILY MEAN HE DRANK BLOOD.

  DRACULALVER: THERE’S NO PROOF THAT HE DIDN’T.

  BACKINBLACK7: VLAD THE IMPALER WAS PROBABLY ONLY BLOODTHIRSTY IN THE VIOLENT MURDEROUS SENSE OF THE WORD.

  BLOODBOY957: HI

  BACKINBLACK7: HI BLOODBOY

  DRACULALVR: BUT DOESN’T IT MAKE SENSE THAT HE WOULDN’T HAVE DONE IT OPENLY? HOW MANY TRUE VAMPIRES ARE OPEN ABOUT THEIR IDENTITY. JUST CUZ THE BOOK IS ‘FICTIONAL’ DOESN’T MEAN THERE’S NOT SOME ELEMENT OF TRUTH.

  OPOSITIVE: I BEG TO DIFFER.

  BACKINBLACK7: BEING A VAMPIRE IS NOTHING TO BE ASHAMED OF.

  DRACULALVR: THAT’S NOT WHAT WE’RE TALKING ABOUT THO.

  BLOODBOY957: ANYONE KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT VIKINGS?

  DRACULALVR: THIS IS A VAMPIRE SITE.

  BACKINBLACK7: THEY RAPED AND PILLAGED?

  BLOODBOY957: NEVERMIND.

  I was about to sign off when a private chat window popped up on my screen…

  DOUBLEHELIX1178: VIKINGS, HUH?

  BLOODBOY957: YEAH, I GET IT, THIS IS A VAMPIRE CHAT ROOM.

  DOUBLEHELIX1178: KINDA TOUCHY, AREN’T YA?

  The handle DOUBLEHELIX1178 seemed familiar to me, but I didn’t think much of it.

  BLOODBOY957: I JUST DON’T THINK I’M GONNA FIND WHAT I’M LOOKING FOR HERE.

  DOUBLEHELIX1178: AND WHAT IS IT YOU’RE LOOKING FOR?

  BLOODBOY957: ANY INFORMATION THAT LINKS VIKINGS TO VAMPIRES.

  DOUBLEHELIX1178: THAT SEEMS PRETTY RANDOM…

  BLOODBOY957: YEAH I KNEW IT WAS A LONG SHOT.

  DOUBLEHELIX1178: I DON’T KNOW MUCH ABOUT A VIKING/VAMPIRE LINK, BUT I KNOW A BIT ABOUT NORSE MYTHOLOGY.

  BLOODBOY957: AH, WELL THANKS BUT I CAN GOOGLE THAT.

  DOUBLEHELIX1178: YOU KNOW THERE’S AN INTERESTING NORSE RITUAL WHERE IF A GIRL LIKE ME SACRIFICES HERSELF ON A MAN’S FUNERAL PYRE, SHE JOINS HIM AS HIS WIFE IN THE NEXT WORLD. WANT TO HEAR MORE?

  BLOODBOY957: THANKS, BUT NO THANKS.

  DOUBLEHELIX1178: SUIT YOURSELF NOAH.

  At first, I blinked and missed it.

  —DOUBLEHELIX1178 HAS SIGNED OFF—

  I noticed it when I went to sign off: NOAH. DOUBLEHELIX1178 called me Noah. I scanned our brief conversation. I had never mentioned my name. How did she know my name? To say I was creeped out would have been a massive understatement. Some random girl in an Internet chat room knew my name. If she knew my name, what else did she know? Did she know what I looked like? Who I was? What I was? The fact that I was perusing a vampire site wasn’t necessarily a smoking gun, but I didn’t want to be associated with anything like that, not publicly. Was someone pulling a prank on me?

  I was going to go with that theory for now. It seemed the least crazy. I’d spent enough time on conspiracy theories lately. They’d gotten me nowhere. I was getting all worked up for nothing. Then I noticed the time.

  I spent the rest of my time at home strategizing on how not to murder Paige for her sweet blood, and figuring out what to wear. I settled on a blue T-shirt, a black pullover Muse jacket, and dark blue jeans. My hair was perfectly tousled, my eyebrows manly but suitably managed. I practiced smiling a few different ways without teeth, which then devolved into working on my sultry look. It was surprisingly good! Not that I was ever going to get a chance to use it. Then I allowed myself a generous dousing of Axe body spray (to mask the lingering sunscreen smell). I was ready. Or so I thought.

  I was almost out the door when her voice rang out from the kitchen.

  “Noah? Honey, where are you going?”

  Stopping, I turned around as my mom walked out of the kitchen holding a wooden spoon sopped in spaghetti sauce, looking at me expectantly. “Out?”

  “Out where?”

  “I’m going to Paige’s.”

  “As in, Paige, Paige?”

  “Do you know any other Paige?”

  “You’re going to her house?” she asked slowly, as if she didn’t quite believe she was asking the question. “Yeah, we’ve got a history project to work on.” I tried to sound nonchalant. She bit her lip. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” She was trying to tread lightly, but we both knew it was pointless.

  “I’m not going to kill her,” I said quietly.

  “How can you be sure?” I wanted to take offense at this. But reaching around in all of my angst and guilt, I couldn’t find the outrage. “I can’t be,” I admitted.

  She cocked her head to the side and stood with her arms crossed. She knew she couldn’t stop me, much as she wanted to.

  “How is this going to work?”

  “I promise, I’ll be careful.”

  “Should you at least eat beforehand?”

  “Do you have any suggestions?” I asked glibly.

  “What about squirrels?”

  “Seriously?”

  “What? You can’t just go around eating neighborhood dogs.”

  “Yeah, thanks for reminding me.”

  She let out a long, deep sigh and twirled the spaghetti spoon anxiously in her hands. “So. What now?” she asked.

  “I guess you’re just going to have to trust me,” I shrugged.

  ****

  The first thing that hit me was the smell. For a fleeting moment I was blissfully unaware of the savory scent of living beings, and aware only of the sweet warmth of cinnamon and honeysuckle. It felt like Christmas and summer all at once.

  Paige answered the door. Her hair was pulled back in a strategically casual ponytail, and I could make out a hint of blush on her soft cheeks. I didn’t think she needed it, but that’s just me. The girl could wear a jester hat and baggy clothes and I would still think she was the hottest thing to walk this earth.

  She smiled as I stood there, dumbstruck by the welcoming air and her innocent beauty. It was both tantalizing and frightening. I reminded myself of my promise, and took control of my senses. I smiled back, carefully.

  “Hey,” she said.

  “Hey,” I answered back.

  A faint orange glow emanated from the foyer, and it shone around Paige with such a soft light that she looked like a genuine starlet, like something out of a movie. I couldn’t help thinking about what it would be like to take one definitive step forward, place my cold white hands on her delicate face, and pull her into a single, deep, long kiss.

  “Are you going to come in or would you rather hang out on my porch? I mean I do have a pretty fascinating lawn, so…”

  Earth to Noah!

  “You know, I actually did come over for the lawn, to tell you the truth. It’s quite neglected.”

  “Yeah, uh-huh, thanks!” She tsked, stifled a laugh, and stepped to the side, welcoming me into her home.

  I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt at the thought that this wouldn’t be happening if she knew I was a vampire. As soon as I stepped inside, the warmth overtook me, enveloping my every sense. The tips of my fingers began to tingle and I could feel the butterflies in my stomach as she led me through the entryway. We passed walls lined with family portraits, which captured lovely moments of Paige’s life, and then walked into the living room, where two Eastern-style elephant lamps were casting a dim light.

  I had to admire the effortless grace with which Paige floated through the well-worn halls of her house, navigating every groove in the floor with quiet expertise. When we reached the living room, she stopped abruptly and turned on a dime. I found myself scintillatingly close to her as she spun, almost bumping into me. When she looked at me, she had to look up. I never realized before how much taller than she I was. I had never allowed myself to be this close. I think she noticed how uncomfortably close we were and, as subtly as she could, she took a tiny step backward. It didn’t help much. I could still
taste her breath when she spoke.

  “So, first, can I get you anything to drink?” she offered. “We’ve got Coke, Sprite, water?”

  “No thanks, I’m good.”

  “I thought that for tonight, as a good way to sort of get into the right spirit of our project, we could watch a movie.” She was fidgeting when she said this. I could tell she was gauging my reaction.

  “Okay. What have you got?”

  She skipped over to a side table where she picked up a DVD, holding it up to show me.

  “Marie Antoinette, huh?” I tried not to sound disappointed, but I wasn’t really a Sofia Coppola fan, no offense. I definitely preferred her father, and the mafia, guns, and blood. Oh sweet, sweet blood. Okay, wait, bad thoughts! Focus!

  Paige bit her lip.

  “Awesome, I’ve been wanting to see that,” I lied. It did have something to do with the French Revolution, so I guess it could still be considered “working on the project,” which made me feel slightly less nervous.

  I knew I’d convinced her, because she broke into a grin and headed straight for the Blu-ray player.

  “I’m so glad,” she started, “because I know a lot of guys would just be like ‘no way’!”

  “Ha, well, their loss!” I scoffed. Man, I hoped the movie was short. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could fake enthusiasm for it. What I didn’t have to fake, however, was my enthusiasm not only for being inside Paige’s house, but also over the prospect of sitting next to her on the couch for at least an hour and a half. One part of me desired this because I have had such strong feelings for her, and the other half desired this because I was really, really hungry.

  I decided to focus on the strong feelings thing.

  We settled in on her tan puffy couch. It sank a lot deeper than I expected it to, so when I sat down at what I thought was a reasonable distance, I sank so deep so suddenly that Paige accidentally rolled into me! There was an awkward jumble of limbs and apologies, until finally we reached a happy medium and both of us sat comfortably, perfectly balanced, a respectable twelve inches apart from the other.