“Give her the bag,” I said, quietly but with force.
“Get out of my way, Nelson,” he quipped.
He tried to shove past me, but I stood my ground. “It’s Noah.”
“Fine, get out of my way, Noah.” Again he made a move to get by me, but I was solid as a rock. He got right up in my face, but I kept my expression calm and tried hard not to breathe in the stench of his rancid coffee breath.
“Move.”
I cocked my head ever so slightly to the side, as if I were contemplating his request. “No.”
“You’re making a big mistake,” he threatened.
If only you knew, I thought. “Give me the bag, Jeff.”
“Bite me.” Jeff tried to shove me, but I remained still. That just set him off even more. He puffed up his chest. If he couldn’t intimidate me physically, he was going to try to scare me off somehow. “If you don’t get out of the way, I’m going to have to hurt you.”
Man, this was the longest bus ride ever. I was amazed the bus driver hadn’t yelled at us to sit down already.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Classie looking on, worried. The corner of my mouth briefly twitched—a hint of a smile to reassure her. I refocused on Jeff. I smiled broadly at him (without flashing my fangs, of course). “I’d like to see you try.”
His eyes were alight with hatred as he stared me down. His face went red as a cherry tomato and his nostrils flared like the bull that he was. In one fell swoop, I grabbed the bag out of his hand and bumped past him with my shoulder so hard he fell back into a couple of his cronies.
I had called his bluff, and he had no idea what to do next. As I handed Classie’s bag back to her, she mouthed “thank you.” The light of the day had begun to poke through the ubiquitous fog and cast such a soft, pretty light on her fair face. Her eyes were brimming with a potent combination of embarrassment and gratitude.
“You’re welcome,” I whispered.
Meanwhile, Jeff and his cohorts retreated to the rear of the bus but not before casting a dozen threatening looks my way. At one time that might have put me off. Now it was just pitiful.
“You’re dead!” Jeff yelled.
I tried not to laugh at that comment. Ignoring him completely, I took my seat once more and turned up the volume on “Ultimate.” I was a creature of the night, but this day was mine. Even though I’m not calling myself a superhero, maybe being a vampire isn’t all bad. I cranked up the volume.
Chapter 12
“Dude, what did you do?” Malcolm didn’t even wait for me to sit next to him in homeroom before digging right in.
“Um, I don’t know. What did I do?”
“You beat up Jeff Taver on the bus this morning?”
“Word travels fast.”
“So you did?”
“No, I didn’t beat him up!”
“That’s what everyone’s saying.”
“Well, everybody’s wrong. He was picking on Classie and was going to throw her bag out the window, so I got it back for her.”
“By beating him up?”
“No!” I laughed.
Malcolm occasionally had a taste for the dramatic. Must have been from all those comic books he’s read. The way he was talking, it seemed like he wanted the rumor to be true.
“He tried to shove and threaten me, but I just grabbed the bag and gave it back to Classie.”
Malcolm raised his eyebrows. “Who is Classie?”
“She’s in our grade, super-blond hair, kind of short, green eyes, good piano player.”
“I don’t remember her for some reason. She sounds hot.”
“She’s cute. She hangs out with Larry and Theresa sometimes, I think.”
“Aha. So you didn’t beat up Jeff?”
“No, I didn’t beat up Jeff.”
“That’s too bad. The guy totally deserves a beat down.”
“Yeah, no kidding. Can’t say I wasn’t tempted.”
****
“You’ve been getting death stares all day,” Celia noted.
Malcolm looked up from his sandwich. “That’s because Noah kind of beat up Jeff Taver!” he explained through the food stuffed in his mouth.
“You beat up Jeff Taver?” Celia gasped.
I rolled my eyes and shot Malcolm a look. “I’m beginning to think you’re the one spreading the rumor.”
Malcolm grinned at me, a few soggy crumbs escaping his jaws. I turned back to Celia.
“I didn’t beat him up. He was teasing a girl on the bus so I stopped him.”
“Hmm, then it makes sense why the jocks eyes are burning holes in your skull. Who knew you were such a knight in shining armor!” Celia joked.
“My hero!” Malcolm chimed in with his best girly voice.
“Shut up, Malcolm.”
“So who’s the girl?” Celia asked.
“Clarissa Falke.”
“Classie? I like her,” Celia said.
“Yeah, she’s nice,” I responded.
“I still don’t know who she is. Can you point her out?” Malcolm asked.
Celia scanned the bustling crowd until she spotted Classie standing in the lunch line. “Right over there,” she pointed out to Malcolm.
“The blond, right?”
“Yeah.”
“She is cute!”
“Hmm, I don’t know what’s going on with that shirt: a turquoise off-the-shoulder? Are we stuck in the eighties?” Celia scoffed.
I was a little surprised. Celia was generally a sweet girl who rarely spoke ill of others. Plus, she just said she liked Classie. Girls…I’d never understand them. “Whatever,” Malcolm said. Malcolm’s eyes followed Classie through the lunch line until she looked over her shoulder and caught him staring.
Celia, meanwhile, stewed in her seat right next to him. It was a little uncomfortable. I knew she had liked Malcolm in the past, but I thought she was long over him. The tension at the table was growing thick.
“Celia, where’s Paige?” I asked, changing the subject.
“She had art, she’s probably just washing up.”
I nodded. As if on cue, I saw Paige strolling into the cafeteria and waved her over to our table. She got closer and I noticed that a worried look darkened her features. “Hey, you okay?” I asked.
“Why is John Millard cornering me at my locker and telling me to warn you that you better watch your back?”
My blood instantly began to boil, and I leaped out of my chair. “Where is he?”
Paige could see the anger burning in my eyes and put her hand gently on my chest. “Whoa, easy,” she soothed.
“Come on, Noah. Sit back down, man,” Malcolm suggested.
They were right. I had to get myself under control. Just the thought of that behemoth John Millard cornering my Paige was enough to make me want to tear his throat out. On top of that, I was getting hungry again. It had been awhile since I’d gulped down my mom’s blood. I had to be extra careful about what I did while I was hungry. I threw my hands up to indicate I wasn’t going to take any drastic action. “I stood up for Classie today on the bus. That’s all. This’ll blow over. If any of those guys even looks at you funny, let me know.”
“I’m not worried about me,” Paige clarified. “I was just worried about you.”
I gave her a wry smile, one she couldn’t fully understand. “Trust me, I have nothing to worry about.” I hoped that my confidence would assuage her fears. They were truly unfounded. My only fear was that if Jeff really tried to pick a fight, I wouldn’t be able to resist.
Paige nodded and took her seat next to me at the lunch table.
“So where did you want to start this weekend?” Celia asked Paige.
“Start?” She replied.
“Yeah, I thought we should definitely hit up a couple department stores and then a few boutiques.”
Malcolm rolled his eyes. I fought the urge to do the same myself.
Paige squirmed a little in her seat. She hated saying “no” to people. “I
’m not sure I have enough time for all that.”
“Come on, it’s the prom! This is like, once in a lifetime stuff!”
“Who are you going with?” Paige asked, diverting.
Celia blushed. “Well, um, I haven’t…I don’t know. I have a few options. I just haven’t decided yet,” she said with a sideways glance at Malcolm.
Paige and I picked up on that look, but Malcolm was busy trying to pick something out of his teeth.
“How about we do Macy’s, and then if we don’t find anything, we’ll check out Original Craze?” Paige tried.
Celia shrugged. “Sure.”
Suddenly having dislodged whatever was irritating him, Malcolm tuned back in.
“Wait, so who are you going with?” he asked Celia.
She perked up. “I said I haven’t figured that out. Why? Who are you going with?”
Malcolm shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“You better figure it out soon or all the good ones will be taken,” Celia advised.
“All the good dresses?” He teased.
“No, the girls, stupid,” she retorted.
“You’re still available,” he pointed out.
Celia wasn’t sure whether to be hopeful or insulted, but she decided on the latter when Malcolm’s gaze wandered over to where Classie was sitting with her friends. Celia began texting someone as Paige started to eat the homemade sushi roll she’d brought for lunch.
When the bell rang, I caught up with Malcolm at his locker. I knew I had to tell him about Paige and the prom, but I didn’t know how.
“I asked Paige to the prom,” I blurted out without warning. Well, that was one way to go about it. Real smooth, Noah.
Malcolm stopped. “What?”
“I, um, I kind of asked Paige to the prom?”
“What does that mean, you ‘kind of asked her’?” He made a big air-quotes gesture. Besides referring to my condition, the only other time Malcolm used air quotes was when he wasn’t happy about something.
“Uh, I asked her.”
Malcolm bit his lip. “I thought we talked about that.”
“Well, yeah, but I don’t know, I changed my mind.”
“What did she say?”
“She said yes.”
“Noah, do you really think this is a good idea?”
“Calm down. If it makes you feel any better, she insisted it had to be as friends. She made it very clear she doesn’t want anything more than that. Plus, we were working on our project and I was able to completely contain myself.”
“One hour is different than a whole night.”
“Really? Why can’t you just let me enjoy this? I finally worked up the guts to ask her out and I’d like my best friend to be happy for me.”
“It’s not that I’m not happy for you.”
“Is that so? Because that’s not what it sounds like.”
“It’s just more complicated than that.”
“To be honest, Malcolm, it’s really none of your business. The ‘complication’ you’re referring to is my business.”
“Well, excuse me, but you kind of made it my business when you told me all about you being a vampire!”
“Well, I kind of had to! You caught me eating a squirrel and you wouldn’t leave me alone about what was going on!”
He didn’t have a response to that. I understood his reservations, but come on—there had to be a limit on his nagging. He was starting to sound like my mom, not my best friend. Plus, “complications” aside, he should have just been happy for me, right?
After a heavy beat of silence, Malcolm spoke again, his tone less accusatory. “I’ll give you that. I did want to know what was going on with you. And for better or worse, I know now. I just don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
“Neither do I.”
“I know.”
“So can you please try to be a little happy for me? You know what a huge deal this is for me.”
He took a deep breath and finally looked at me with his light blue eyes. “Yeah. I can try.”
I smiled. “Thanks.”
He slapped me on the back. We started walking toward class. “Anytime, bloodsucker.”
I rolled my eyes. “Can you please not call me that?”
“Fine, fine. Can I call you BS for short?” He held it together about three seconds before he cracked up over his own horrible joke.
“You are ridiculous, you know that?”
“Whatever, you love it.”
****
When I got back home that afternoon, I turned my key in the lock only to find that it was already open.
Mom was never home this early.
My mind started racing. We didn’t have much to steal and we lived in a pretty good neighborhood, but I couldn’t keep my thoughts from wandering into the darkest corners of possibility.
Carefully, I turned the knob on the front door and gently pushed it open.
CREAK.
Of course, the hinge couldn’t have stayed quiet this one time.
I poked my head through the entryway and quickly scanned the foyer. Nothing suspicious. I moved inside and closed the door behind me, making sure to lock it.
Setting my backpack down, I opened up the closet, hoping to find some sort of weapon. I might have been undead, but it was hard to ignore eighteen years of human instinct to find a weapon upon suspicion of burglary. Reaching in, I felt around and grabbed the first thing of significant mass I could feel. A second later, I had pulled out a broom.
Well that’s just great, I thought to myself. I could sweep fear into the heart of my enemy.
I slowly crept through the house, checking every closet and corner. Nothing. Living room? Nothing. Bathroom? Nothing. Kitchen? Wait.
I noticed a slight glint as I scanned the kitchen. I stole over to the window that overlooked the kitchen table. Carefully guarding myself from the rays peeking through the overcast skies, I took a closer look at the windowsill. Stuck between the window and the sill was a single strand of gleaming golden hair. When I breathed out, it moved ever so softly like a lazy wave. Then it rose, riding the ripple of my breath, gleaming in the sun so brightly it was almost impossible to miss.
A single blond hair. Stuck in the windowsill.
I jiggled the window, but it was most definitely locked. So how did a strand of hair get there? It was long, too. Mom’s hair was short. I finished checking the rest of the house but didn’t turn up anything else. So I walked back downstairs, stowed my fearsome broom, and stared at that single hair, pondering its origins.
The girl with the Viking tattoo. It was her. It had to be. Who else with radiant blond hair and a talent for evasion would have any interest whatsoever in our home? The girl I believed to be responsible for my sinister change had been inside my house. I believed that was particularly disturbing.
What did she want? What would have happened if Mom had been here? And if she had come in the front door, why wouldn’t she leave through the front door—why go through the window? Unless she heard me coming and had made a quick exit. The thought of my having just missed this mysterious and elusive perpetrator was both a relief and a frustration. I was relieved because, believe it or not, I didn’t like confronting people. Had I actually walked in on her doing…whatever she was doing in our house, it probably wouldn’t have gone so well.
At the same time, I was consumed with the idea of actually meeting the girl who had the answers I was looking for. But even so, my blood boiled knowing that someone potentially so dangerous had been in my home.
I sat at the kitchen table, running these thoughts through my mind until my mother arrived about thirty minutes later.
“Hello!” she called out.
“In the kitchen,” I responded.
She walked in holding a couple of grocery bags. Not only was she home early from work, but she also gone shopping?
“What have you got there?” I asked.
“Just a few odds and ends.”
“You didn’t
happen to leave the door unlocked this morning, did you?” I asked hopefully.
“No.” She shook her head. “Why?”
“I think someone was here.”
She dropped what she was doing and looked around, alarmed. “Oh my god, what did they take?”
“Nothing. They didn’t take anything.”
“Why not?”
“How am I supposed to know?”
“Are you sure the door was unlocked?”
“Yes, I am one hundred percent sure.”
“I’m going to call the cops,” she said, rushing to grab the phone.
“And tell them what?”
“That we had a break in!”
“But nothing’s missing.”
“I know, but maybe they could get fingerprints.”
“I’m not so sure having the cops crawling around here is such a good idea.”
Setting down the receiver, she joined me at the table. “You think we shouldn’t do anything about it?”
“We don’t even have any evidence that someone broke in, aside from the fact that the front door was unlocked,” I lied. The strand of hair was my mystery. I didn’t need to alarm my mom further. “Plus,” I added, “I don’t think it would be such a good idea to get on their radar right now, if you know what I mean.”
She knew exactly what I meant. “We’ll just have to be extra careful about making sure to lock every door and window,” she rationalized, “and I’ll have a locksmith add a dead bolt to the front.”
“Okay.” I nodded toward the grocery bags. “So really,” I went on, “what’s in those?”
Her eyes flitted to the bags and then back to me as she stuttered, “Ah, well, just—just a couple of, uh, things for me.”
I knew that uncomfortable look. I winced at the thought of boxes of feminine products sitting on the kitchen counter. Gross. “Okay, yeah, never mind! I don’t want to know!”
“All right, all right,” she laughed, “but I do in fact have something for you.”
I watched, curious, as she walked through the front door, gingerly removed a box from her car trunk, and brought it back to me.
I Heart Vampires Page 15