Vampires Drink Tomato Juice

by K. M. Shea

  “Oh no, I completely understand. In fact, I need to go, too. I’m going to miss my express train. It was great seeing you guys,” I said, waving the pair off.

  “It was great to see you. Thank you, Morgan. But next time you’re in a mess, won’t you let us know?” Sandy asked.

  “I will,” I nodded. “Good luck with your appointment. Bye, guys!” I said before heading down the hallway, breaking away from the pair.

  On the train ride home, I scratched out a list of definitions to give Madeline and Asahi while reminiscing over my cyclops union and mentally musing over the confounding puzzle of a hemophobia-stricken vampire.

  “Fran, it’s cool to be nerdy, but not geeky, right? Or is it the other way around?” I asked, staring at my notebook with frustration.

  “What, are you working on a paper for English or something?” Fran asked me as she stapled a packet of papers.

  Michael and I always got to school with thirty minutes to spare, so Fran and I usually hung out in a computer lab or the student council room and finished school work before classes started.

  “Sorta. I’m trying to define the difference between nerd and geek for an assignment,” I said, rubbing my eyes.

  “Nerds are the super academics—the ones who are going to invent super computers and cures for cancer. They’re the ones you want to marry! Geeks are the extreme Star Wars and Lord of the Rings fans,” Fran flippantly replied.

  “So, it’s cool to be nerdy, right?”

  “Cha.”

  “Thanks,” I said, scrawling her explanation in the margin of my notes.

  “Hey, Morgan. Hi, Fran!”

  My eyes shot up from the notebook, and I smiled up at Brett Patterson. “Hey, Brett! Come on in; no one else is here.”

  “Hey, Brett,” Fran said, beckoning with a hand after I elbowed her.

  I did my best to give Brett an inviting grin as he entered the tiny student council room.

  “So, what are you two up to?” Brett asked, smiling as he plopped himself down on the table, sitting across from Fran.

  “Homework,” I smiled.

  “Student Council work,” Fran said. She didn’t even spare him a glance as she efficiently stapled another stack of papers.

  “That’s right. The Halloween dance is this weekend, isn’t it? Are you student council guys making posters for it?” Brett said, poking a finger beneath Fran’s various packets so he could study one.

  “Yep. It is our responsibility to advertise it,” Fran briskly said, pounding the stapler again.

  “Ah,” Brett said, watching her.

  I don’t know why, but Fran always seems to channel an old business lady whenever Brett was around. She gets really blunt and borderline rude.

  “So, what’s new with you, Brett?” I asked.

  “Not much. Cassie has the car tonight, so I don’t have wheels.” Brett launched into a rant about his older sisters (whom we knew from elementary school) when I saw movement behind him.

  Frey—unmistakable with his silver hair—walked past the open door. A few seconds later, he reappeared, walking backwards. He caught my eye and smiled.

  I beamed at Brett before glaring at Frey and shaking my head.

  A Jack O’ Lantern smile spread across Frey’s face, and his green eyes gleamed as he nodded.

  I violently shook my head again and slid my pointer finger across my throat in a slitting motion.

  Frey beamed angelically.

  Our silent exchange caught Fran’s attention. She welcomed Frey into the room with something that sounded like relief. “Frey, why are you standing out there? Come, talk with us. Are we still celebrating that you and Morgan have kissed and made up?”

  “We did not kiss or make up. I’m just…talking to him again,” I hissed at Fran while Frey trotted into the room and plopped down next to me.

  “Hi, Honey,” Frey said, grinning at me before leaning close. (I could practically see his figurative doggy tail waving in a 360ᴼ loop. Whatever he was planning, it wasn’t good.)

  “Get away,” I hissed, shoving him away from me.

  Brett blinked at us. “So, are you two dating or something?” he asked.

  “NO!” I shouted, slapping my hands on the table. “Not at all. We’re coworkers. We have the same after-school job.”

  Frey gave Brett his best wolf-like smirk. “That’s what she says anyway.”

  I turned to stare at him, trying very hard to control my anger. I whipped back around to address Fran—who was openly laughing—and Brett. “One second, please,” I said before spinning back to face Frey, scooting my chair away from my childhood friends. “What do you think you’re doing?” I hissed to Frey.

  Frey was chuckling. “Hooo, man. Devin’s gonna be pissed when he finds out!” he hooted.

  “Finds out what?” I snarled, glancing backwards to make sure Fran and Brett weren’t listening.

  They weren’t. Fran was busy stapling, and Brett continued to complain to her about his sisters.

  “Finds out that after everything he’s done, you’re still sweet on some dopey human,” Frey grinned. I swear to you, his canine fangs were poking out, making him look like a mischievous wolf.

  My mouth dropped open, and I gaped at him.

  “But I am hurt,” Frey said with a falsified sniff. “How can you be so enamored with such a boring, normal guy when I’m around?”

  “H-how, how did you figure it out?” I hissed, grabbing Frey by the collar of his t-shirt.

  “It was pretty obvious during that week you were constantly forgetting about me. I saw you in the hallway, and you were batting your eyelashes like a woodland creature in the Bambi movies,” Frey scoffed.

  This was from the emotionally constipated werewolf that couldn’t figure out why I was so upset with him for buttering up to me when he had an ulterior motive.

  “Why can’t you be emotionally sensitive when it matters?” I yowled, hitting him.

  “Hey, that’s animal abuse!” Frey shot back.

  “See, they even have their own little inside jokes and pet names. Cute, huh?” Fran said.

  I finally tuned into my friends and realized Fran had actually been chatting to Brett about me and Frey. I shot Fran a horrified look. She knew I had it bad for Brett! What was she doing?!

  Fran caught my look and pushed her eyebrows up while looking down at her papers. “Like I said, broken hotness meter,” she whispered to me. “I’m still cheering for that one,” she added, tilting her head past me, towards Frey.

  I groaned and pounded my head on the table.

  Frey laughed and mussed my hair.

  “You two are pretty close,” Brett observed, to my horror.

  WHY did knowing about the MBRC turn my life completely upside down?

  12

  My Class Size Increases

  “Morgan, this is my very close vampire pal, Esmeralda,” Madeline said, giving me two thumbs up.

  “How many times have I told you? We’re not friends,” Madeline’s supposed pal said, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

  If Madeline was pretty, Esmeralda was beautiful. She had curly raven black hair, flawless, olive skin, and deep, brown eyes. She didn’t look anything like a vampire. She was too…vibrant.

  “She’s just saying that,” Madeline stage-whispered to me.

  Esmeralda scowled. “I am not. I hate vampires. All vampires. Especially the old, clueless ones like you,” she said before turning to me. She stared at me, slowly inspecting me from head to toe. “I think I’ll like you. You seem normal, which is a rarity in this nuthouse. The name’s Esmeralda. Been a vamp for five years now,” she nodded.

  “I’m Morgan. Nice to meet you,” I smiled. “We should probably head to the room,” I suggested, wondering if Asahi was going to be okay with adding another unregistered, non-paying student. If I knew anything about the sunny elf, he would probably welcome the dark beauty into the class with a smile.

  “You see, this is my plan to combat Asahi’s blind
ing personality,” Madeline said as we moved towards the stairs, narrowly avoiding getting run over by a minotaur.

  “Your plan to what?” I asked.

  “Before he left, the Pooka gave me detailed care instructions for you. He said I wasn’t supposed to allow Asahi, or any of his relations, to be alone with you. He said your weak, feeble humanity would be crushed beneath Asahi’s aura, and you would be sucked in and fall helplessly in love with him whether the High Elf meant to be friendly or not,” Madeline said.

  I wouldn’t have believed that Devin gave her the orders, but the bit about being sucked in sounded like him.

  “I see,” I said, climbing the stairs.

  “High Elves are famous for their good looks. It’s probably just as well they’ve got the looks in elf races. Can you imagine if the Beer Brothers looked like them?” Esmeralda snorted, folding her hands behind her head as she effortlessly trotted up the stairs.

  I paused, mid step. “Wait, before he left?”

  “Hm?” Madeline asked, skipping up one more step.

  “You said Devin left?” I asked, leaning against the stair banister.

  “Yes. He went back to Britain. That’s where the Fairy Council is being held this decade,” Madeline nodded.

  “So…he’s gone?” I asked.

  “Yeah. For a couple of months at least,” Esmeralda said. “The Pooka is notorious for leaking out of council duties, so when they manage to get him in the council, they hold onto him for as long as possible.”

  “So…he’s gone?” I repeated, staring blankly at the wall. I couldn’t help the pokes of sadness that prodded my heart.

  “…Morgan?” Madeline asked, standing a few steps below me so she could peer up at my face.

  “Sorry. Let’s go,” I said, starting back up the steps while I tried to silence my traitorous heart.

  We wove around the hallways for a while before Esmeralda finally found the right room.

  “Asahi!” I said, entering the room.

  The bright sunshine boy was there, wearing another Arabian Nights costume. “Morgan!” he said, his face breaking into a dazzling, sincere smile. “I’m so glad to see you,” he said without any trace of embarrassment.

  “Hooo, you got a computer in here. Sweet. I didn’t think the MBRC owned any that were lent out for classes. I’ve only seen them used in office work,” Esmeralda said, her eyes drawn to the front of the room where a giant, bulky computer was stationed.

  “My gosh. How old is it?” I asked, drawn towards it like a car accident.

  “I dunno. Pre-flat screen monitors, that’s for sure,” Esmeralda said.

  “What’s a flat screen?” Madeline asked, peering over my shoulder.

  “Ew, try turning it on,” Esmeralda suggested as I stood in front of the computer.

  “We got a pretty good one,” Asahi said, sliding out of his desk to approach the mammoth computer. “Don’t tell, but Aysel stole it from accounting,” he grinned.

  The computer hummed as it turned on. The screen flashed, and my mouth dropped open.

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” I said.

  “Woah,” Esmeralda laughed.

  My throat tightened, and my voice grew higher. “Is this Windows ’98?” I said, staring at the start up screen. The old fashioned Windows icon winked at me.

  “I know. It’s great, right?” Asahi laughed. “They’re still using Windows ’94 in the psych department!”

  “Can this thing even run PowerPoint?” I asked, poking the computer tower. “Furthermore, does it have a USB port for my jump drive?”

  “No wonder the MBRC has such bad human relationships. They’re like twenty years behind the technology curve,” Esmeralda said.

  I looked up and nearly flung myself at Asahi. He looked like a kitten that dragged a frog home in hopes of praise and was rewarded with screams instead.

  “I can ask Aysel for a better one,” he said.

  I couldn’t help myself. “That’s okay, Asahi,” I said, my stupid, sappy smile resurfacing. “This is a good computer. It’s a good room. You did well!”

  I was rewarded with a sunny Asahi smile before Madeline flung her arms around me and leaned against me.

  “She’s my friend first,” Madeline said.

  “Okay,” Asahi agreed, smiling at her.

  “Right, so let’s start,” I said, clearing my throat.

  Asahi returned to his desk, and Esmeralda followed him, but for some odd reason Madeline was still glued to me.

  “Hi,” she smiled when I looked down at her.

  “…Is there a reason you aren’t letting go?” I asked the petite blonde.

  “Not really.”

  “Then would you go sit down?” I asked.

  Madeline paused and thought about it for a moment. “Okay,” she said, taking a seat between Esmeralda and Asahi.

  “Right, so before I dive into the high school social structure, I figured I would explain the clique that I’m a part of,” I said, leaning away from the computer. “I’m what you would call an academic, perhaps a borderline prep.”

  “So, you’re smart?” Madeline ventured.

  I shrugged. “More like I make an effort to finish my school work. My friends and I are slightly more ambitious than your regular student. We all see ourselves as going to college, and we get fairly good grades. We’re all involved in school clubs in order to round out ourselves for college applications, and we’re pretty clean cut. An exaggeration of our clique are the preps. Preps taken to extremes are generally kids who plan to go to Ivy League schools, wear lots of polo shirts and cardigans, and like to monogram as many of their things as possible.”

  “But you’re not a nerd?” Madeline asked.

  Esmeralda laughed.

  “No, my friends and I are smart, but we aren’t brilliant enough to be nerds,” I answered.

  “I learned about nerds in my human psychology class,” Asahi brightened.

  Until 5:30 rolled around, I spent most of my time trying to teach Madeline and Asahi (Esmeralda already understood) about the delicate high school hierarchy and the various cliques that supported it.

  As would become custom, when class was over, Madeline and Asahi escorted me downstairs. Today, Frey and Dave were waiting for me.

  “Hey, Morgan. How’s the tutoring going?” Frey greeted, squinting past me as I waved goodbye to my students. “Is that Madeline?” he added.

  “Yeah. She claims Devin sent her to keep an eye on me. How do you know her?” I asked, adjusting the position of my backpack before smiling at Dave.

  Dave jutted his lower lip out and sulked. Judging by his mood, he probably got a bad report back from his teachers again.

  “I’ve just seen her around a lot. She’s a pretty active member of the MBRC, even though she isn’t in an administrative position. She’s one of the older vamps who stays permanently in the area,” Frey said, turning to lead the way out of the MBRC.

  “Really? I didn’t think she was much older than a century. She said she was from Britain’s Women’s’ Suffrage Era,” I said, following.

  Dave trailed after us, pouting into his thermos of tomato juice.

  “Yeah, that’s not very old if you meet some of the ruling vamps,” Frey agreed. “But it’s generally only the vampires that are less than a hundred years old who involve themselves with the MBRC. Bye, Tiny,” he said when we passed the guard.

  “See you tomorrow, Tiny,” I said.

  “Bye,” Tiny rumbled, waving a meaty hand in farewell.

  “I’m not surprised she’s glued to you. She’s probably one of the few females the Pooka associates himself with that doesn’t have a massive crush on him. It would make sense to send her after you. She wouldn’t get jealous. In fact, she’ll probably end up liking you more than him, which is probably what he planned for,” Frey frowned.

  I snorted. “You give him too much credit. I have no idea how Madeline found out about me, but I doubt Devin sent her. He doesn’t care about me.”
/>   As we joined the sea of humans in Union Station, Frey eyed me. “You’re joking, right? After all the strings he pulled to get you back?”

  “I saw him the other day before he left the MBRC—which he didn’t tell me he was doing—and he completely blew me off,” I said, stubbornly lifting my chin into the air. I would not cry. I would not cry! I blinked back the stinging sensation in my eyes as Dave dragged himself from his sulk and spoke.

  “Perhaps, my dear, you should try judging the Pooka based on his longer-term actions towards you, not just a one-time encounter. Although the Pooka appears to be human, you must remember that he is a fairy. He probably has a difficult time understanding you as well,” Dave said as he innocently scooted towards a trash bin.

  Frey intercepted the vampire and plucked the thermos from Dave’s hands before hitting him over the head with it.

  “Ouch!”

  “What Dave is saying is that you are waaaaay too sensitive,” Frey said, wiggling the thermos at me.

  I frowned. “Somehow I doubt that.”

  Frey, however, had already removed his attention from me and started lecturing Dave. “You need to stop wasting this! If I have to ask the MBRC supply elves for another box of thermoses, they’re going to report me to waste management. Also, you need to stop sighing over blood like a love-sick school girl,” Frey said, punctuating some of his sentences with smacks to Dave’s head.

  “Ow!” Dave whined, rubbing his stinging cranium.

  Perhaps the books didn’t completely lie. Werewolves and vampires fight alright…just not the way everyone assumes they do.

  On Friday, I stopped by the MBRC information booth to say hello to Corona and company before heading up to my classroom.

  “So, how’s the tutoring?” Corona asked, flicking Gristles away.

  “Okay. I’ve really only taught them for one day so far,” I considered, adjusting my winter coat. (I was starting to get hot.)

  “Them?”

  “Yeah, these two vampires, Madeline and Esmeralda, popped up and played around in the room yesterday,” I nodded.