Free Eleventh Grade Burns by Heather Brewer Page A

had wanted him to notice. With a casual pace, he made his way down the hall to Otis’s door.
    Otis seized the opportunity, acting surprised to see him. “Vladimir, it’s good to see you. Young Joss here is a bit confused and insists that he’s in my class, when my roster shows no such thing. Would you mind keeping an eye on things here until I return from the office?”
    Vlad couldn’t help but notice that Otis had said “I” instead of “we,” meaning there was no way he planned on returning to class with Joss in tow. He didn’t make eye contact with his former friend, but faked a pleasant smile to Otis. “No problem.”
    With his thoughts, he said, “What are you worried about? It’s not like he can stake either of us between quizzes, Otis.”
    “I know reconnaissance when I see it, Vladimir. By the way, someone’s waiting for you inside. You should say hello.” Otis turned and headed down the hall. Vlad thought about asking who was waiting for him, but he had a sneaking suspicion he already knew.
    He stepped inside Otis’s new classroom and there she was, looking every bit as pretty as she had the night he broke her heart. She was looking right at him. Vlad released a tense breath and said, “Hi, Meredith.”
    Good. Keep it casual. The last thing Vlad wanted was deep questioning about why he’d called their relationship quits. There just wasn’t any charming way to say that you couldn’t shake viewing your girlfriend as a cheeseburger. Vlad knew. He’d spent all summer thinking about just that.
    Even now, the scent of her blood was almost too much to bear.
    She bit her bottom lip, as if contemplating what to say to him. She settled on “Hi.”
    He wet his lips, and kept his eyes on anything but hers. “So ... you’re taking mythology, huh?”
    With any luck, he could fend off her questions with polite chitchat until Otis got back. So far, so good. But her blood—that delicious taunting of B positive that lurked within her veins ... it called out to Vlad’s thirst. It was all he could do to force his fangs not to answer its siren song.
    “So that’s it then? You don’t have anything more to say to me?” She sounded mad.
    Vlad dared a look into her brown eyes. Yep. She was definitely angry. But he still didn’t know what he was supposed to say to improve the situation. So instead, he blinked and pretended that he had no idea what she was talking about, even though he knew exactly what she was talking about, which was, of course, him turning into a giant jerk and breaking up with her for what seemed like no good reason. Even though he had two very good, very sharp reasons threatening to poke out from his gums at just the sight of her. He shrugged slightly. “What should I say?”
    Meredith’s eyes shined with the threat of angry tears. She wasn’t buying Vlad’s act at all, which told him two things: 1) He shouldn’t think about trying out for the school play anytime soon, and 2) Girls were a lot smarter than boys gave them credit for. After a moment, Meredith said, “You could start with ‘I’m sorry.’”
    And she was right. He could. But I’m sorry was usually followed by an explanation of sorts. And that he couldn’t give her. So he blinked again and wondered how much longer Otis would be, hoping like crazy that something—anything—would distract Meredith from the conversation and get her across the room from him, where she might be a bit safer from his appetite.
    “You owe me an explanation, Vlad.” She shook her head, lowering her voice to just above a whisper. “You owe me at least that.”
    With a look of pained disgust, Meredith shook her head and took her seat at the front of the class, near the windows. Vlad watched her and frowned. There would be no fixing this, no apologies, no making anything right between them again.
    Behind him, Otis said, “Let’s find our seats, shall we?”
    Vlad wandered to the back, the aisle nearest the door, to one of the only empty