Vampire Crush(33)
Author: A.M. Robinson

I hug her back, feeling nice and fuzzy and like a good sister for once. There’s no reason I can’t be avoiding Vlad for sisterly solidarity and the overwhelming desire to live, is there? When I am finally released from her body-lotioned death grip, the three of us peek around the corner to find Vlad and Neville in the middle of yet another debate.

"But High School Musical?" Vlad says. "It’s not even something civilized."

Neville crosses his arms tightly over his chest. "You said that we should join in school activities."

"Join in activities so we can find the girl. Not so you can twist and twirl about on the stage for your own amusement!"

Beside me, Violet emits a tiny snort. "Vlad can be so overbearing at times," she whispers in my ear. "And he lies; he told me that this place would be filled with eligible young gentlemen."

"Really?" I whisper.

"He told us all sorts of things to lure us along."

"Lying poophead scumbag," Caroline says. "Anyway, how do we get out when their stupid butts are blocking the door?"

"Why, we will have to walk our stupid butts out the door!" Violet cries, clearly getting into this. After we shush her, she tries again more quietly. "What I meant to say was we will need to act like their presence does not bother us. For example, I will act like I do not even notice the presence of James. You do the same with Vlad. Believe me, it has worked for hundreds of years." She looks at me. "You do whatever you think sisters of the brokenhearted do."

This sister of the brokenhearted is trying to remember exactly what James told her three nights ago and marshaling all the puny acting talent she possesses. Now’s the time for my first-grade experience as Silent Woodland Animal #3 in Snow White to really pay off. Try not to let him get close to you. Concentrate if he does.

I take a deep breath. "Ready?"

Violet and Caroline nod furiously, but our first attempt is stalled by Caroline’s hand on my shoulder.

"Wait. Is that James Hallowell?" she asks.

"Yep. He’s living next door again," I say, still stinging from his betrayal. But instead of making me feel better, revealing James’s secret only makes me feel petty. "Don’t tell anyone."

"Why?" she asks. "Oh man, Amanda said that Danny said he was back, but I thought that she had just finally lost it. He got cute," she says, and I don’t like the undercurrent of "oooh, gimme" in her voice.

"Just . . . please, Caroline?"

She shrugs. "Sure, whatever."

How reassuring. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," Caroline says. "Wait! I mean no. My shoes. This is not something I want to do barefoot."

We wait for Caroline to shoe up for battle, and then walk out the door, marching toward the vampires. James snaps to attention as we approach. Vlad and Neville are still knee-deep in their argument, with Neville explaining the plot of High School Musical and Vlad countering that he may not be exceedingly familiar with this world, but he is certain that basketball players do not sing. Hope balloons in my chest; maybe they won’t even notice me. We are swerving around the edges of their huddle when Vlad’s voice rings out.

"If it isn’t the girl I want to see," he says, his hand snaking out to block my way.

"Excuse me?" I say, trying to act confused as I back away. I try to remember James’s lessons on how to keep one’s mind impenetrable, but it’s harder said than done. I think of how much I hate him, how much I want him out of this school, this town, this universe. But how do you tell if it’s working? Other than the fact that he hasn’t yelled "Gotcha!"

Vlad steps forward, eating up my hard-won buffer of space. He starts to reach for my chin, and a chill of panic rushes over my body. But before he can touch me, Caroline pushes Vlad away with an unladylike grunt.

"What’s wrong with you?" she asks as I take the opportunity to step away. "You’re acting like you’ve never met."

"We have not," Vlad says, obviously annoyed. He scowls at me over his head.

She turns around, looking for a denial, but I force myself to nod and agree. She frowns for a few seconds, giving me a look that says she thought I was on her side. Finally, she says, "You’re both crazy," and marches toward the door.

We listen to her heels as they click across the lobby’s floor, and I try to gauge everyone’s suspicion level. Neville is still pouting, while Vlad watches Caroline’s back with a moody scowl. Marisabel stands beside him, trying so hard to look innocent that she might as well stick her head up in the air and whistle, and Violet continues to study the five food groups display so James will see that she has moved on to better things, apparently fruits and vegetables. Against my better instincts, I sneak a glance in his direction and am met with a small smile that does nothing to mask the worry in his eyes.

"Wait a moment," Vlad says, and I whip my head around to find him watching me. I feel the fluttery, zooming sensation in my heart that means I’m starting to panic. And when I start to panic, my mind goes blank. The more I try to train my thoughts into one orderly progression, the more they want to scream "Vampire, vampire, vampire!" James steps forward, worry on his face, and it heightens my panic. If he can tell, anyone can tell.

As if on cue, Vlad’s countenance darkens. I prepare for the worst. This is it. This is the end. But Vlad doesn’t reach for my throat – instead he pulls away, disappointed. It takes a few seconds to realize that it’s not because James has betrayed him; no, it’s because he has no excuse to kill me. I’ve passed. Somehow, I’ve passed.

"Maybe I’ll see you around," I say, giddy with good luck, and head toward the door, half expecting to be tackled from behind. Soon enough, however, the High School Musical argument starts up again. Talking to Mr. Amado can wait until tomorrow. Right now I need to get out of here and go where I can be sure my thoughts are completely my own.

I’m almost to the door when James catches up with me. A part of me wants to yell at him, but his relief at not being found out is plain, and for a moment, that’s something we share. If I’m being honest, the temptation to put everything on hold and celebrate is overwhelming, especially when I note that he seems to have recovered from whatever was ailing him.

"Are you feeling better?" I ask, just as a figure appears at the other side of the lobby. It’s Lindsay, the girl I almost let become the prime entree of a vampire buffet. Now she’s heading toward us with a determined stride, her hands hidden by the stack of papers clutched to her chest. Plea for forgiveness number one is on my tongue when she bypasses me for James.