Vampire Crush (Page 34)
Vampire Crush(34)
Author: A.M. Robinson
"Thanks again for finding me today," she tells him with no hint of ill will. "The articles are due to our journalism teacher tomorrow, so my head was about to, you know, spin around and pop off."
"No problem," he murmurs.
"It’s so great that you’re going to join our class," she continues. "Maybe we can work on something together."
"Sure," he says, but his eyes are on me.
Lindsay follows his gaze, and I brace myself for another well-deserved telling off. But all she does is apologize for ignoring me and ask if I’ve given any more thought to joining the collection drive for Greenpeace. "I think we could really use you," she says. "Final sign-ups for the planning committee were on Friday, but, well, this whole weekend is kind of a blur." She frowns. "I think I need to stop pulling all-nighters."
It’s like our almost death never happened. I look at James for an explanation and find one in his guilty expression. So that’s why he was late to chemistry, and that’s why he looked so tired. He may not have mind-wiped me, but he had no problem doing it to someone else.
Lindsay picks up on the tension immediately. "Okay, then. I’m, uh, just going to go. Check in with you later for Greenpeace," she says, and then bolts out the front door. I try to follow but James steps in front of me.
"I had to," he says. "I tried to explain some things to her, but she freaked out and started screaming. She’s safer this way, I swear. The fuzziness wears off after a few days."
"Where were you after lunch?" I ask, even though I already know the answer.
His jaw tightens. "I had to find Vlad," he says stiffly. "It took more out of me than I expected."
"There’s not going to be an extra space in the front row tomorrow, is there?" I say. It’s a bad joke, mainly because I’m half serious.
James’s face wrinkles in disgust. "No. Vlad has a cooler from – "
"The fair," I say quickly. "I know."
"I don’t want to know how you know that. Sophie, I’m serious, this is not a stupid journalism assignment. You need to stay away from him. You’re lucky he was distracted. I could hear you, and I was farther away than Vlad. You may think that you’re a fortress of snark and bad-assery, but you’re not."
The fact that I didn’t entirely succeed in wearing my antivampire hat is not exactly comforting, but I can’t let that deter me. "Not until I make sure the girl is safe," I say. "I won’t just leave people in danger."
James’s face hardens, and I realize that I’ve just destroyed any chance of a truce. He steps to the side to let me pass. When I exit into the sunlight, he doesn’t follow, leaving me to wonder exactly how many reminders I need before I realize that he’s not on my side.
Chapter Twelve
Mr. Amado collects our Welcome Back articles the next day. When it comes time for me to hand mine over, I experience a moment of panic. Last night I caved and looked over them again, after which I tried to do some final-hour touch-ups, but they are still hovering more toward the "suck" end of the spectrum than the "stellar."
"Thank you, Sophie?" Mr. Amado says calmly, tugging a few times when my fingers continue to clutch the end. "I’m taking them now."
Left with little other option, I let go, and he moves on to the rest of the students. I notice that Lindsay doesn’t hesitate at all when it’s her turn; she offers her handful of pages proudly and with a bright smile that Mr. Amado returns. Mind-wiping, and Other Keys to Better Journalism: An Expose. Maybe I should have asked James to go ahead and wipe me as well.
I risk a peek at the back corner of the room, where James has stashed himself in the most isolated desk and is now propping his cheek up with his hand as he watches the proceedings with a bored eye. This has been his position of choice in all of my classes, with the exception of English where he finagled a seat directly between me and Vlad and sat up so straight in his seat that I couldn’t even see the tippy-top of Vlad’s head. We haven’t exchanged a single word since yesterday’s fight in the foyer, although once when he caught me looking at him, I thought I saw the ghost of a smile before he schooled his face back into impassivity.
Mr. Amado has finished his rounds. I force my attention back to the front of the room just as he sets the stack of articles on his desk and then sits on its corner. "This is great, guys," he says. "On Thursday we’ll start using the computers to lay everything out – and remember, if you need to brush up on your InDesign skills, I’m holding refresher workshops after class for the rest of the week." He claps, which I’ve learned is his way of drumrolling. "But right now I wanted to check in and see how you are all holding up after the first assignment and brainstorm ideas for the next few issues. Remember, this is a forum and I am just the steward here to help you."
"What’s a steward?" Neal asks.
Mr. Amado’s mustache twitches. I also noticed during the assignment roundup that Neal turned in a handful of comics and not an article about the missing blood. That makes me happy, but it means that Mr. Amado’s Neal Frustration Level is high.
"A guide, Neal," he says. "A guide."
"I want to keep covering girls’ sports," Mark Echolls says before anyone else can stake claim to his territory.
"I anticipated that, Mark," Mr. Amado says. "I don’t see any reason why – " He stops when he notices that I’ve raised my hand. "Sophie?"
I was really hoping to suggest this in a one-on-one meeting, but it looks like I’m going to have to do it now since Mr. Amado turned into a Super Sophie Evader over the weekend. "I’ve been thinking that maybe we should shake things up this year," I say. "I mean, Mark, you’re excellent at girls’ sports, but you’ve been doing it forever. And I’ve been doing the investigative stuff forever, and Emma has been doing the horoscopes forever. The paper might be fresher if we all brought a new perspective to the articles."
I stop, realizing that most of my classmates are glaring at me. Well, except for Lindsay, who is doing her best to look encouraging, and James, who’s watching this with more interest than anything else that’s happened today.
"Also, it will make our clip files more diverse for when we’re applying for colleges and university newspapers," I finish in a rush. "We’ll have so much more experience."
"That seems like a fair point," Mr. Amado says. He’s trying to act casual and facilitatorish, but I can tell that he likes the idea. "What do the rest of you think?"
"But I spent all summer reading Linda Goodman’s Love Signs," Emma says, flipping her black, curly hair over her shoulder. "That’s not going to help me if I’m stuck watching the school play three thousand times."