Sucks to Be Me: The All-True Confessions of Mina Hamilton, Teen Vampire (maybe)

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Sucks to Be Me: The All-True Confessions of Mina Hamilton, Teen Vampire (maybe) Page 3

by Kimberly Pauley


  Oh.

  My.

  God.

  Okay, you know what I said about vampires not looking like Brad Pitt or Tom Cruise or those actors on Buffy? It’s obvious I was really, really wrong because walking through the door is the most gorgeous hunk of man-flesh I have ever seen (well, besides Nathan). And he even looks like the stereotypical movie vampire guy—tall, thin, longish brown hair that perfectly frames his face. Intense green eyes. I can feel myself blush as he glances in my direction. I turn around quickly.

  “That’s Aubrey,” says Lorelai, a little unnecessarily.

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah, I know.” She turns and stares at him openly. “If I didn’t already have a great boyfriend, I would totally go for him.”

  Oh, man. Even if I had a boyfriend, I would still totally go for him. I sneak another peek. He’s chatting with Grandma Wolfington and showing her some book he brought with him. From what I can see of the cover, it looks like your typical vampire romance fiction (tall Fabio-like dude in a cloak with his arms wrapped around some long-haired girl about to swoon). He’s got questionable reading habits, but everything else looks great. Perfect long fingers. Clean nails. Lovely hands.

  He doesn’t strike me as the Goth type, even though he’s got a little bit of a Renaissance thing going on with the outfit he’s got on. On anyone else, it would look really stupid. I wonder if Ms. Goth Girl actually has a claim on him or if it’s all wishful thinking.

  “Well, looks like everyone is here,” says Grandma Wolfington. Aubrey takes a seat along with all the rest of the stragglers. I note with some glee that he doesn’t sit next to Raven, even though she’s saved him a seat and looks like she’s about to have an apoplectic fit trying to wave him into it.

  “As you’ve probably noticed, we’ve got someone new today. Why don’t you stand up and introduce yourself,” says Grandma Wolfington, looking at me.

  So I stand up and go “Hey, I’m Mina.” They all just stare at me blankly. “You know, like from Dracula?” I can’t believe I said that. To these people in particular. I give myself a mental whack in the head.

  Grandma Wolfington nods brightly as if I hadn’t said anything stupid and motions for me to sit down. “Mina’s parents are vampires, though she only recently found out she’s been living with vampires her whole life.”

  That gets a rise out of the group, and they all look at me with interest for the first time, especially Aubrey, the sexy vampire wannabe.

  “I’m sure you will all welcome Mina into the group.” She treats everyone to a moment of her patented glare and they all nod like good little vampire trainees.

  “Today we’re going to be discussing the changes in musculature and physical appearance that occur when you turn.” Grandma Wolfington points to a chart of the human body hanging on the wall. “The first changes affect the lean muscle mass in your body … ”

  Half an hour later and my eyes are completely starting to glaze over. This is worse than chemistry! Who knew there was so much science involved in turning. And honestly, I really didn’t care. It all boiled down to:

  a) you get stronger,

  b) you don’t get tired or have to sleep anymore (which I totally already knew—sneaking out of my house is so not an option), and

  c) you should never let a human doctor get a gander at your insides or else you’ll be locked away in some top-secret facility and no one will ever see you again.

  But everyone else was following Grandma Wolfington’s every word like their lives depended on it. I wouldn’t be surprised if G.W. started passing around Kool-Aid.

  “And you know what else is awesome?” Lorelai leans in and whispers to me when Grandma Wolfington pauses for a minute. “We’ll never gain any weight! Ever! Not to be mean, but if I were Linda, I’d go ahead and knock off those extra ten pounds now, if you know what I mean.” She glances thoughtfully in Ms. Chess Club’s direction. “You think I should mention that to her?”

  I shake my head and stifle a yawn behind my hand. I can’t imagine it would do any good to point out to someone that they need to lose weight. Like she doesn’t already know. She is a girl. “How long does this go on?” I whisper back.

  “Oh, only about a half hour longer,” she sighs. “There’s just so much to learn! I don’t know how we’ll ever get through it all with these short sessions!”

  I successfully smother a snort, which is no easy task, let me tell you.

  “You’re so lucky,” Lorelai whispers. “All of this must be old news to you.”

  I just shrug as noncommittally as possible. She’s probably not a spy for Grandma Wolfington, but who knows. Though it’s not like I really do know any of this stuff. It’s not exactly the kind of thing that we sit around the dinner table and talk about. But who would? Muscle mass, fast-twitch muscles, blah, blah, blah. I just hope there’s not a quiz.

  I make it through the rest of the lecture, but just barely. G.W. is definitely pro-vampire. So much for “helping me make my decision” and all that feel-good talk about how it’s my choice. She goes on and on about all the good stuff that happens, but never covers any of the bad stuff, like:

  a) Not being able to tell your friends anything, though they are bound to wonder why you suddenly like your steak raw. Really raw.

  b) Drinking blood. I’m sorry, it’s just gross. Way worse than sushi.

  c) The massive headaches you get if you happen to forget your sunglasses (just ask my dad, who barely remembers his shoes on a good day).

  d) Not being able to sleep. At all. Forgive me, but I like my pillow time. And what about dreams? I can skip the nightmares, but a good dream about Nathan can hold me for a week.

  e) Having to constantly control your bloodlust when you’re around regular people. Though even thinking about the word “lust” and my parents in the same thought is totally lunch-losing.

  f) Unintentionally hurting the people you love. Like the time Mom accidentally broke my finger when I was ten—she was just tossing a Frisbee with me. I think she felt worse than I did (though I have to admit that I milked that for as much ice cream as I could).

  g) Always being suspicious and afraid that people have found out your little vampire secret. Like our nosy neighbor, Mrs. Finch. She’d have a telescope pointed at our window if she thought she could get away with it.

  But it’s not like I can say anything, so I tune out the really over-the-top stuff and spend the other half of my time (okay, maybe more than half) staring dreamily at Aubrey.

  I stand up and grab my stuff, all ready to jet out of the vampire propaganda session when Aubrey himself (!) actually walks right up to me.

  “Hello, new girl,” he says in this oh-holy-moly deep voice. I concentrate on not dropping anything or doing something really dorky, like drooling all over him.

  “Nice to meet you,” I say. “Aubrey, right?” Oops, I probably shouldn’t have let on that I knew his name. Smooth, I’m not.

  “Yes, that’s me.” He smiles and I nearly faint right there on the spot. Oh, wow, if Serena could just get a look at this guy. She would totally flip. “I need to get home tonight, but I was wondering if you’d like to catch a cup of coffee or something after school tomorrow. I’d love to ask you some questions.”

  Yes! Score one for Mina! “Um, sure,” I say. “How about the Coffee Café on Tower Road?” I’m totally melting inside, but I am very proud of how well I seem to be holding it together. Except for the bead of sweat I suddenly feel coursing down my back, but at least he can’t see that.

  “Sounds great.” He smiles again. “I’ll see you then.”

  He takes off and I stare after him, letting out a breath that I didn’t even realize I was holding. Lorelai slaps me a high five.

  “You go, girl!” she says. She scribbles a number on a piece of paper and hands it to me. “And I want to hear all about it. You give me a call tomorrow night, okay?”

  “Will do,” I say. I cannot believe my luck. Maybe this whole vampire lesson thing is a
blessing in disguise and not just something to get through to keep my parents happy and The Council off our backs. Maybe this is the starting point for a whole new Mina. Not necessarily in a whole new bloodsucking kind of-way, but at least on the boy front. I’ve got no history with Aubrey and if I can just hold it together and not flake out, maybe I can give Goth Girl something to worry about.

  I can feel Raven’s eyes burrowing a hole in my head, so I take off. But I don’t wipe the smile off my face. She might as well get used to it.

  5

  I wake up still incredibly psyched about Aubrey. I can’t wait to tell Serena because she will totally and completely flip when she sees this guy. But wait … What am I supposed to do? Tell her I met the guy at vampire camp? I’m still puzzling over how I can tell her without letting the cat out of the bag when I get in her car to go to school. Luckily, she takes it out of my hands as soon as I’m settled in the Death Beetle. (Her car is a rusty, black original V.W. Beetle, circa her dad’s college years. What else would you call it?)

  “Can’t talk today,” Serena says. “Conjugating!”

  Serena has been taking Latin since the ninth grade. I have no idea why. In my opinion, dead languages should just stay dead. I mean, they’re dead for a reason, right? I, on the other hand, have been taking the language of love, French. That’s not to say that I can actually speak French or carry on a conversation with a hot guy (in French or English). I can’t.

  “Amo, amare, amavi, amatum,” says Serena.

  I discovered the secret to getting by in French during my first year with Madame Tilly. French essentially sounds like gargling or a babbling brook, if you’re being kind. So if you pronounce a word or two and just garble the rest, you can fool almost anyone. You just have to act like you know what you’re saying. Madame Tilly’d like us to think she was born and raised in Paris, but she’s no more French than a French fry. I’m her star pupil.

  “Navigo, navigare, navigavi, navigatum.”

  But poor Serena sticks to her Latin. I think her dad makes her take it because he wants her to go to med school some day. Or maybe he just wants to torture her. I guess I’m lucky. My parents never do anything like that. They just make me choose whether I want to be human or not. Hello!

  “Facio, facere, feci … ”

  “Fee-cee? Did you just say what I think you said?”

  “Shhh! Conjugating!”

  I still have no idea whether my parents want me to do it or not. Turn, that is. Dad didn’t say a word when he picked me up last night. Granted, I wasn’t really thinking about anything but that dreamy Aubrey. Dad could have been spouting the Declaration of Independence and I wouldn’t have known it.

  “Maneo, manere, mansi, mansum.”

  I need to sit down and have a heart-to-heart with Mom. I can usually wheedle something out of her if I ask in the right way. It doesn’t work as well as when I was six and unbelievably cute (seriously, I have the photos), but I’ve still got it.

  “Scribo, scribere, scripsi, scriptum.”

  “You ever notice that all those verbs basically sound like ‘rectum’?”

  Serena just shoots me a keep-quiet-I-know-where-you-live look and keeps conjugating. I shut up for the rest of the ride.

  Lunch rolls around and I still haven’t figured out how I am going to tell her about Aubrey. And tell her I must! You can’t keep a guy like that a secret and I had a date—a date!—with him right after school. Okay, a coffee-date, but that totally counts in my world.

  Latin was her first period class so I couldn’t hide behind her conjugations anymore. I grab our usual table and a plate of fries. (Okay, yeah, I know—not the healthiest meal on the planet, but have you ever tried the meatloaf surprise? There’s a surprise all right. And it usually hits you around about fifth period.)

  Serena finally comes in and sits down across from me. “Fries again?” she asks as she unpacks her own healthy soy-something-or-other.

  I’m right about to launch into a convoluted story about how I met this guy while at the mall, ignoring the fact that my story is totally unbelievable since it would mean that I went shopping without her, which I never do. Not that I was. Whatever.

  But then, suddenly, Mr. Quiet from last night just appears right behind Serena. I almost choke on a soggy fry.

  “Hi, Mina,” he says. “It’s George. From last night?”

  “Last night?” says Serena with a lifted eyebrow.

  He barely even glances at Serena. “Yeah, at the … ”

  “The thing, uh, that my parents made me go to. I told you, didn’t I?” Serena looks at me skeptically, but at least George gets the hint and shuts his mouth. Hello, vampire-boy, don’t you remember the “Don’t Tell” policy? Do I have to do all The Council’s work for them? “At the museum. The new lecture series? About, uh … ”

  “The mating habits of orangutans,” says George with a smirk.

  I give him a really dirty look as Serena’s eyebrow climbs even higher. “Um, yeah, it was really educational”.

  Serena’s eyebrow goes back down a notch and I breathe a sigh of relief. The mating habits of orangutans. What was he thinking? I can’t believe she bought that.

  “So, George. I didn’t know you went to McAdam too. You didn’t mention that last night.” In fact, I don’t think he said a word through the entire vampire lesson.

  “We had homeroom together last year,” he says in this sad, serious voice.

  “Oh.” Oh man. I’m not sure what to say. How terrible am I? I completely don’t remember him at all. Am I as bad as Bethany and all her friends? Do I walk all over people without realizing it? Or is he just that unmemorable? I mean, he is seriously normal-looking. There’s nothing wrong with him or anything, but he kind of blends, you know?

  The silence is kind of stretching on, so I add, “Sorry.”

  He laughs. “I’m just kidding,” he says. “I just transferred here a couple of months ago.”

  Serena cracks up. “He totally had you going!”

  “Did not.” Ugh, I can’t believe he got me like that.

  “Did too!”

  “So, anyway, George, what’s up?” I put on my best ignore-the-situation-and-move-on smile.

  “Well, since you missed the other lectures, I thought you might want to borrow my notes. In case there was anything you wanted to know that you weren’t there to hear.”

  Serena’s eyebrow goes back up into dangerous territory. “About the mating habits of monkeys?”

  “Orangutans aren’t monkeys,” I say automatically.

  “They aren’t?” say George and Serena in unison.

  “No,” I say, “they’re apes. Monkeys have tails. Apes don’t.” Ha! At least I’ve learned something from all those years watching Animal Planet. And Mom says TV’s not good for anything. I can’t quite keep myself from paying George back for the whole orangutan thing. “Guess you must not have been paying attention last night.”

  He laughs again. “Got me,” he says. At least he’s a good sport. “Anyway, I thought we could go over my notes after school today.”

  “I can’t today, I have a thing.”

  “A thing?” he asks.

  Oops. I give Serena a look of apology. She’s going to kill me for not having told her first. “Yeah, I kind of have a date.”

  “A date?” Serena shrieks. “You didn’t tell me you had a date tonight! On a Wednesday? With who? What? Where? When? Why?”

  “Well, not like a date-date. It’s a coffee date. We’re just having coffee.”

  “O-KAY. Who is it you’re just having coffee with then?”

  I glance at George. “Another guy I met at the lecture. His name’s Aubrey.”

  George gets a look on his face like he just swallowed an entire lemon. “Oh,” he says. “Well, I’ll see you in the next lecture then.” He starts to walk away.

  He’s probably just jealous of Aubrey (I mean, who wouldn’t be?), but now I feel terrible for the second time in like five minutes. “Hold on, Geor
ge. Maybe we could go over your notes before tomorrow night’s, um, lecture?”

  “Sure,” he says and gives me a crooked half-smile. “I’ll meet you there half an hour early.” He’s actually not so bland when he smiles. He gives us a jaunty little wave as he walks off.

  Serena doesn’t even notice that he’s gone. “So dish it, girl. What’s this mystery man look like? What’re his particulars?”

  I sigh and draw up Aubrey in my mind like I have a thousand times already today. “Okay, hair like Brad Pitt in Interview with a Vampire and eyes like Tom Welling from Smallville, except green. A body like Christian Bale in, I dunno, anything. And kind of an Orlando Bloomish vibe. But more Pirates of the Caribbean than Elizabethtown.”

  Serena lets that sink in a minute and lets out an appreciative whistle. “Nice. And you met this guy in a lecture about the sex habits of monkeys?”

  “Orangutans.”

  “Orangutans. Whatever.” She shakes her head. “Where are these lectures at again? I might need to come check them out. Maybe all the good guys are obsessed with monkey sex or something. They sure aren’t hanging around McAdam.”

  Uh-oh. I can’t have her following me or showing up at the museum and finding out there’s no lecture. “Nah, he was the only really cute guy there. And the next lecture is on like basket weaving or something like that. I don’t think there’ll be too many guys at that one.”

  “That George guy is going though, right?”

  “Yeah, but I think his parents must be making him go too. You know, like we don’t get enough learning in school already.” I dig into my plate of cold fries hoping she’ll drop the subject.

  “He’s kind of cute.”

  It takes me a few to figure out she must mean our lunchtime visitor. “George?”

  “Yeah, in a bookish kind of way.”

  “Oh? He does have a pretty good smile.”

  “Well, maybe you can introduce me next time.” She wags a finger at me. Yeesh, she’s right. I completely forgot to do the whole polite name-exchange thing. I would totally flunk a Miss Manners class.

 

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