I wouldn’t look at anyone. Sniggering came from the back of the room. A tap on my shoulder. Marty passed me a note. “Hang in there,” it said.
Like I said, vampires couldn’t change your nature. I mouthed “thank you” at her.
Mrs. Lester dimmed the lights while some volunteers pulled the shades. Then, when the film on atomic structure started, she positioned herself leaning on a lab table in the back of the room, right where the people who would have used the cover of darkness to persecute me sat. Mrs. Lester was my hero.
I fell into the film. Another tap, and Marty handed me another note. This one was from Bev. “We have to do something about Jo and Marty,” it said.
It was good to have an ally.
The day became an interesting montage of vampire revelation. Mr. Stogdill gave himself the mother of all paper cuts, which I understand is an occupational hazard for English teachers, and I admit I was petty enough to enjoy that. While Coral didn’t lick her lips or anything cheesy like that, I saw her eyes follow the bloodstained paper as it wandered up and down the aisles between the desks until it reached its owner. That wasn’t a shocking event, because it was unnoticeable to all but the trained eye.
Bev hung out with Coral like usual, but she took Jo to the side from time to time. I didn’t quite get the gist of what Bev was up to, but when Coral wasn’t looking, Jo said a small prayer over Coral’s water bottle in the gym. Nice. Somehow Jo was convinced by Bev to take a closer look, and because Jo, as the child of a pastor, carries some residual religious power, the choice to bless Coral’s water was brilliant. Coral choked and gagged on the water. Jo wasn’t sure, but Bev whipped out the compact at a surreptitious moment. Then we were three.
Unfortunately, the rest of the day wasn’t as great. The girls in Coral’s gang were getting physical and the teachers were letting them. I kept tripping, hitting lockers, having my hair pulled. This couldn’t end soon enough.
I wondered what Coral’s next move would be. She wasn’t stupid. She would figure out Bev and Jo were on my side. She might target them, and they weren’t trained at all. I couldn’t leave them in a dangerous situation.
Monster hunters keep as many potential victims out of the path of the monster as possible. If there were a Godzilla, for example, we would be the people on the front lines launching missiles. We would also be the people getting others to evacuate Tokyo. I’d like to go on the record how I appreciate that Godzilla is fictional. Vampires, werewolves, mummies, those sorts of things, I think humanity might stand a chance. Radioactive tyrannosaurus on steroids? Humanity is toast.
Hockey practice was grueling. While Bev and Jo weren’t checking me, a lot of the other girls were. I was tripped with a stick and Mr. Pruitt benched me after I twisted my ankle. No foul, of course. I limped into the locker room, pulled out the secret weapon I’d brought to school, visited Coral’s unlocked locker and planted my next reveal.
I finished showering just as practice ended. Leaving the locker room early seemed to be the best idea, so I went outside and waited by the doors of the gym.
Marty came out of the main school exit, clutching a stack of books. I stopped leaning against the bricks and dusted off my sweater. “You’re here kind of late. What’s up?”
“I told Coral I’d meet her to help her with math.”
“Marty, she’s using you to hurt me.”
“I know you don’t like Coral, but she’s really nice when you get to know her.”
“Sure she is. Marty, do you wonder why everyone likes her?”
“I think—”
Coral came outside with her posse, including Bev and Jo, who exchanged looks none too subtly.
“Hey, Coral. You got a second?”
“Yes, Abby?” Her voice was fake polite.
“How long do you think you can keep all this up? Don’t you think you’re spreading yourself a little thin?”
She flipped a wisp of red hair away from her face. A breeze blew it back again. “This isn’t taxing me at all.”
“I doubt it. What, we’re looking at about forty people under your spell now?”
Coral laughed and twirled her index finger by her temple. “Crazy.”
Marty tugged on Coral’s sleeve.
Coral ignored her. “What’s the matter, Abby? Jealous?”
“I got nothing to be jealous about. You’re the fiendish undead. You cheat.”
“Cheat?” Coral said.
“Fiendish undead?” echoed Marty.
“Just a figure of speech,” said Coral.
Yes. An endearing nickname like Pumpkin or Scooter.
“Cheat,” I said. “Ned told me you cheated at limbo. I didn’t believe him. Did you turn part of yourself into mist?”
“No.”
I was the one with the high-pitched voice now. “I think you did. I think you disincorporated yourself into the
floor. Right?”
“No. I can beat you at limbo anytime.”
“I’ll bet.” Hey, it wasn’t witty, but I was killing time. “Do you smell something burning?” I asked. There was the result I was looking for.
Marty tugged Coral’s sleeve with some insistence. “Coral, there’s smoke.”
Coral looked down at her arm as it become brilliant red, bits of flesh turning dark. “What—what’s happening?”
“Vampire workaround. You use sun screen, right?”
Coral gasped as her arm began to smoke. The girls around us backed away, hands covering their eyes. One screamed.
“You use an incredibly high SPF, but I switched your bottle.” I held out the bottle I’d replaced her sunscreen with. Sunkissed, but instead of a zillion SPF the label read a much lower number. “SPF five, Coral. There’s your problem.”
“You…”
“You’d better get back inside. This can’t be good for you.”
Coral
