Free Vampire Kisses by Ellen Schreiber Page A

practice.
    There was no time for thank-yous to Matt and the others or “Gee, this has been fun—we’ll have to do it again some time.” I ran back up the hill triumphantly. I couldn’t wait to tell Becky.
    Did I really believe Trevor was in love with me? No. It seemed as unlikely as the existence of vampires. Mr. Popular loves Ms. Unpopular. But I had made a good case, and the important thing was, everyone had bought it.
    I was finally free.

A Girl Obsessed
     
    S uddenly other Dullsvillians reported Gothic Guy sightings.
    “He’s really great looking, but a major weird-fest must be going on in that haunted house!” Monica Havers whispered to Josie Kendle in algebra class.
    “He actually came out of his dungeon?”
    “Yeah, and Trevor Mitchell spotted him coming out of the cemetery at night and said he had blood dripping from his mouth. And when Trevor drove closer, he suddenly disappeared!”
    “Really? Hey, you’re hanging out with Trevor again?”
    “No way! Everyone knows he’s in love with that Raven girl. But get this. I saw that ghost guy at the movies last Friday. Alone. Who goes to a movie by himself?”
    “Only a loony loser crazy person,” Josie said.
    “Exactly!”
    I rolled my eyes in total disgust.
    Then after dinner I was at the 7-Eleven with Becky, picking up soda for my mom, when I noticed a tabloid headline that read, “I Gave Birth to a Two-Headed Vampire Baby.”
    “Well, it must be true then!” I joked. “Vampires do exist. I read it in the National Liar .”
    Becky and I giggled like little girls.
    I turned around and there was Gothic Guy standing right in back of me, staring at the candy bars below the counter.
    He was wearing Ray Bans, like a ghostly rock star, and was holding a pack of candles.
    “Aren’t you the guy—” I whispered breathlessly, as if I had spotted a celebrity.
    “Next,” the clerk said, summoning him to the counter.
    He didn’t even notice me. I followed him closely but was edged out by a red-haired fitness queen and her tanning bed–addicted friend buying celebrity mags and bottles of imported water.
    Gothic Guy took his bag and left the store, lifting his sunglasses as soon as he stepped into the dusk.
    The two women leered at him like they had just seen a walking zombie.
    “That reminds me, Phyllis,” the fitness queen whispered. “I saw that kid at Carlson’s Book Store. He’s so pale! Hasn’t he ever heard of the sun? At least he could use some fake tanning cream. He needs a makeover bad!”
    “Did you notice what he was reading?”
    “Oh, yes,” she recalled. “It was a book on Benson Hill Cemetery!”
    “I’ll have to tell Natalie Mitchell. She’s convinced they’re vampires!”
    “Maybe we’ll see the Sterlings in the tabloids next week: ‘Vampire Teen Plays Baseball with Real Bats.’” And they giggled like me and Becky had before.
    “Hurry!” I said, impatiently.
    By the time Becky and I raced into the parking lot he was gone.
     
     
     
    The gossip continued at our dinner table.
    “John Garver at the courthouse told me that the Sterlings didn’t buy the Mansion, but they inherited it,” my dad said.
    “Jimmy Fields said he heard they don’t eat real food, but bugs and twigs,” Nerd Boy added, like only a nerd would.
    “What’s the matter with you guys?” I shouted. “They’re just different—they aren’t breaking any laws!”
    “I’m sure they aren’t, Raven,” my mom agreed. “But at the very least, they are strange. Their clothes are bizarre.”
    They all looked at me—at my black lipstick, black nail polish, blackened hair, black spandex dress, and clunky black plastic bracelets.
    “Well, I dress bizarre, too. Do you think I’m strange?”
    “Yes,” they said in unison.
    We all had a good laugh at that one, even me. But deep down, I felt sad because I knew they really weren’t kidding, and I could tell they felt sad, too, for the very same reason.
     
     
     
    The sun had fallen from the sky and