The Art of Being a Vampire, page 2
but Grams
never once
spoke her name.
Turns out,
Grams kicked
Aunt Clara
outta her house at 16
for kissing a girl.
You’d think
Aunt Clara
wouldn’t care
to take in
the child
of the family
that threw her
away.
But I guess
despite having
Grams for a
mother,
she somehow
came to believe in
mercy
and
forgiveness.
Anyway, that’s
how I ended up
in a fancy
southern suburb
living with a
stranger.
My Aunt Was a Lot
The first time
we met,
she talked at me
for a solid
10 minutes.
Telling me:
what to call her
(Just Clara is fine.
Though Aunt Clara
was okay too.)
what she does
(She’s something called a
“data analyst.”
She seemed to mostly
sit at a computer and
make a lot of money.)
and that I’ll
be attending
a private school
down the road.
(A place called
St. Bartholomew’s.)
Those are just
the highlights.
Then she started
to quiz me.
What did I like to eat?
How would I like
to set up my room?
Did I need clothes?
Bras or underwear? (OMG!)
Could I make her
a list of my
favorite brands
of soap, toothpaste, etc. (Favorite brand!?)
She reminded me
a bit of Grams
with her
intensity.
It was all too much.
That first day,
I yelled at her
that I didn’t care
and didn’t plan
on being there
that long.
That pretty much
set the tone
for things between us.
She’d Tried So Hard
Wanting to talk.
Wanting to find someone
for me to “talk to.”
(She meant a shrink.)
She even
saw my old camera
from school.
(I’d “forgotten”
to return it.)
And the very
next day,
she came home
with this fancy
new one.
Digital, of course.
With a sneer,
I pushed it away.
Refused to even
open the box.
It was a beautiful camera.
Way nicer
than anything
I’d even come
close to.
I don’t know why
I hated it so much.
But I did.
I wanted to
smash it
to pieces.
I wanted to
smash everything
and everyone.
Especially
Aunt Clara.
And the more
she pushed,
the more
I hated her.
It was
so obvious
I didn’t
fit
in her
perfect life.
I knew
she’d
eventually
figure it out, too.
School Was Even Worse
I usually kept to myself.
But my first week—
I punched a girl
right in the face.
Almost
got myself
kicked out
of that fancy,
uptight
school.
But Clara came in
and told ’em
the sad story
of my dead mama.
So they gave
me a second chance.
Acting like
it was a real act
of charity.
So glad
I could be
their good deed
for the day.
And not just that,
but also a
learning moment
for the mean girl
who’d asked me
if I’d meant to
dress like a
“cheap prostitute.”
Because us girls
needed to stick
together
and lift
each other
up.
Pfft. Whatever.
It wasn’t what
she’d said—
not really.
It was more like
I’d been wanting
to punch
something.
Anything.
I guess
you could say
I was mad.
After 16 years
of always getting
the short end
of the stick,
I’d had enough.
I wasn’t
gonna be
following
the rules
or staying on
the straight
and narrow.
Not anymore.
I was sick
of clinging to
the slippery slope.
What had
being good
ever gotten me?
I Met Brandt
my second week
at St. Bart’s.
He came to
my lunch
table.
Sat across
from me
and asked,
“Is it true?
You gave
Charity Wilkes
a black eye?”
I shrugged.
Playing
at being
cool.
“Yeah, so?”
He grinned
at me then.
“Thank god
somebody
interesting
has finally
arrived
at this
school,”
he said.
My heart
flip-flopped
in my chest.
From his
smile.
From his
words.
From . . .
him.
See, Brandt
had this
mysterious
sorta
way
about him.
First off,
he was gorgeous.
But he was also moody.
Had a sulky mouth
like a character
from a movie
where he gets the girl
even though the other guy
was nicer and prettier and richer.
Because she wants
the bad boy.
The one with
floppy hair
that covers one eye.
And they end up
outside
kissing
in the pouring
rain.
I wanted
to kiss him
in the pouring
rain.
Right there.
Right then.
I guess that was
my first introduction
to wanting something
bad enough
to not care
about the
consequences.
The Next Day
Brandt asked me
to skip school
with him.
I did.
We hung out
all afternoon.
Just walking
around town.
Talking about
how much
everyone
and
everything
sucked.
By our
accounting,
it was
A LOT.
We laughed
too.
Something
I hadn’t
done much of
lately.
We bought
cheap
gas station
lattes
and sat
on a curb
sipping them.
Well,
I sipped.
Brandt said
he didn’t
like coffee.
Just wanted to
hold it
for the
warmth.
I thought
there was
a real
connection
between us.
Then suddenly,
Brandt got quiet.
I realized
he was
watching
a woman
cross the road.
She was older
and not dressed
sexy or
nothing like that.
I couldn’t
figure what
about her
interested him.
But I knew
the look
in his
eyes
was . . .
strange.
“I gotta go,”
he said.
And then
before I
could reply—
he was gone.
I Got Grounded
for skipping school.
When Aunt Clara
told me,
I laughed right
in her face.
She didn’t
have no
power
over me.
And I didn’t
see any reason
to do anything
she told me
to do.
Like join
the snooty
film and photography club
at school.
They didn’t just
have a darkroom.
They also had computers for
editing photos
plus a real nice
color printer.
Maybe I was
tempted.
A little.
I hadn’t hardly
touched a camera
since that night
I found Mama’s body.
Sometimes
my fingers would twitch
when I’d
see something
and know
exactly how I’d
frame it up.
But then, well then
it was like
it was too much.
I think partly
I was just too mad
at the world
to try and freeze
those little moments
that made it
beautiful.
I think partly
I wanted
to close my eyes
and let the world
spin on
without me.
Hot and Cold
That’s how
it was
with Brandt.
One second,
I was sure
he liked me.
The next, he was distant.
Looking over my
shoulder
at a group
of college kids
headed to
the bar.
Again with
that funny look
that I couldn’t
read.
Probably shoulda scared me.
Instead,
I was more
interested
than ever.
At school,
kids called him
a weirdo.
They whispered
about how he
mighta spent time
in jail or something
cause he missed
most of freshman year.
Whatever.
I didn’t care
about their gossip.
I liked Brandt
a lot.
And I liked
that he
didn’t seem to
belong nowhere.
Just like me.
It Became Clear
that I liked
Brandt
way more
than he
liked me.
He never
made a
move
to
kiss me.
Or even
hold my
hand.
Except
one time
when he
was
shivering
from the
cold,
and I said,
“Give me your hands.”
Then I
held them
between
mine,
and blew
my warm
breath
onto him.
His eyes
got so
intense
then.
It sorta
freaked
me out.
“What?”
I asked.
“You,”
he answered.
“You’re beautiful.”
I lived
on those
words
for a
week.
But Then
Nothing
else like
that
happened.
I went back to
thinking
he wasn’t
into me
at all.
But then
he’d say
something
like,
“What if
you could
live
forever?”
I shook my head.
“I’m barely
getting
through
right now.
Why would
I want forever?”
It was
more
truthful
than I’d
meant
to be.
“I mean,
forever
is just
a long,
long
time.”
Brandt nodded.
“Yeah, but
what if
we were
together
in forever?”
A jolt
of joy
struck
my
heart.
“What would
we do
with
forever?”
I asked,
leaning
into
Brandt.
Wondering
if he might
finally
kiss me.
Clueless,
he rolled away.
Leapt to his feet.
Spread his arms
out wide.
“We could
travel the
world.
Go anywhere
we wanted.
See everything
and take
our time,
because
we’d have
forever.”
I squinted at him.
Wondering
if he was
pulling my leg.
But he
looked back
at me with
shining eyes.
And I knew
he meant it.
“Okay, sure,”
I said.
“Let’s live
forever
and see
the world.
Why not?”
And Still He Didn’t Kiss Me
Didn’t make
any sorta
move.
If we were
just gonna
be friends,
that woulda
been okay.
But I was
sick of him
blowing
hot and cold.
So finally,
I just came
straight out
and asked,
“Do you
like me
or not?”
He seemed
surprised
by the
question.
“Course
I like
you.”
I rolled
my eyes.
With boys
it’s sometimes
hard to tell
when they’re
being dumb
on purpose
or by
accident.
“I mean
LIKE,”
I said.
I put
my hand
to my
heart,
thumping it.
Brandt frowned
as if he were
offended.
“I knew
what you
meant,”
he said.
“And I
gave you
my answer.”
For him
that was
the end
of that.
But I
was not
even a
little bit
satisfied.
“If you
like me,
then
kiss me.”
It was a
challenge,
and Brandt
knew it.
Pucker up
or
shut up.
Standing,
he walked
away from me.
“I can’t,”
he said.
“I want to,
but
I don’t
trust
myself.”
I rolled
my eyes,
“Don’t worry,
I’ll stop ya
before you
rip my
clothes off.”
Brandt laughed,
bitter.
“That would
be the least
of it.”
Good lord
almighty,
he was
the moodiest
most
dramatic
boy
in maybe
the entire
world.
If I
hadn’t
fallen
so hard
for him,
I think
I mighta
hated him.
I decided
to give him
a taste
of his own
medicine.
“If you’re
so dangerous,
then I’ll
be going.
Bye!”
I gave him
my back
as I walked away.
Course he came
chasing after me.
His hot drawn
to my sudden cold.
But I was
all up in
my mad
by then.
