“I’m not texting.”
“Then what are you doing?”
“I never got that picture of Sebastian. And since this isn’t the Crypt, I can take as many pics as I want. I’d like to add it to the scrapbook for Jagger.”
I rose. I didn’t know what to do. She had her camera poised and aimed at Sebastian.
“I don’t think—” I said. But it was too late. I heard the click click click and saw flashes as she snapped away.
Onyx and Scarlet must have noticed, too, as they whispered together.
Becky returned triumphant. “I made sure I saved them this time. Let’s take a look at them,” she said.
“Hey — watch Matt,” I said. “He’s on his way to scoring! Maybe you should be paying attention to him and not Sebastian,” I hinted. “I think he’s working extra hard for you.”
“Really?” she asked. She watched her boyfriend as he ran down the field, kicking the soccer ball. “Go, Matt, go!”
Becky forgot about her pictures and for the rest of the game was entranced by Matt’s athletic abilities.
After the game, Prada-bees inched away from us, and we got a ton of stares. But when Trevor, sweaty and charged up from a win, came and talked to Jagger, and he hung out for a few minutes with the soccer team, the onlookers gawked even more. But when they noticed that Trevor liked these goths, then they looked at them like there must have been something worthwhile about them — like a new purse from an up-and-coming designer.
It was the first time in my existence in Dullsville that I wasn’t the only outsider. I was in a crowd of girls and guys and it looked like I belonged to their club.
The next day, after last bell, I headed to my locker to find Trevor leaning against it.
“I bet it breaks your heart to have two of your friends pine for me the way they do,” he said proudly. “Luna. . and now Scarlet. They can’t keep their hands off of me.”
“It’s just because you are foreign to them. It’s like if they went to the zoo and stared at the monkeys. You are the monkey.”
Trevor broke a smile.
The more I pushed his buttons, the more he loved it. He stepped aside, but not without brushing against me. He peered over me as I unlocked my locker and opened its door.
“So what about that key?” I asked.
“I knew you’d be asking me about it sooner or later.” He pulled the cord out from underneath his shirt and dangled the key in front of me.
“What do you want for it?” I sneered. “Five dollars?”
“I don’t want money,” he said with a wicked grin.
“What does it go to?”
“A kiss will unlock more than this key will,” he whispered in my ear.
Steam burned inside me. Maybe the key didn’t even go to anything. Maybe it was just something Trevor made up.
And I would be the fool once again.
But what if I was wrong, and perhaps it was important. Maybe it was the key to unlocking something magical in the factory that held the answers Jagger was keeping secret.
“What’s going on?” Becky asked, puzzled by Trevor’s proximity to me.
“Raven and I were just having a chat. But it’s time to go. You know where you can find me,” Trevor said. “You have my number.”
“The hazmat crew removed it for me.”
Becky looked at me as Trevor walked away. “What was that all about?”
“Same bully, different bullying,” I said. Then I changed the topic to something more exciting. “I’ve been so busy but I wanted to talk about something with you. I want to get a present for Alexander’s birthday. Something really special.
But I don’t live in New York or L.A. What can I get him here that he’ll like?”
“He loves art,” she said.
“Yes. . but I can’t draw or paint. And I can’t afford anything worth having.”
“And you.”
“Aww. That’s so sweet!” I beamed at my best friend’s compliment. “But guys are so hard to buy for. We always get my dad golf or tennis stuff. But Alexander doesn’t play sports. And I don’t know what kind of supplies he needs.
Besides, that doesn’t seem fun.”
“I get Matt computer sports games. But I suppose Alexander’s not into that.”
“I was thinking about surprising him with a nice intimate dinner. Just us in his backyard. Or at the cemetery.”
“That sounds very romantic!”
But I wanted to give him something unique — after all, he was one of a kind. But what does one give to someone of the Underworld?
It was then I knew. My blood. In a vial. For a vampire, it was the ultimate gift.
“I have it!” But I couldn’t tell her. She’d freak, just as she should, if I told her I was going to give my boyfriend a vial of my blood. But in this case it wasn’t creepy. My boyfriend was a vampire.
“So what is it? What are you so excited about?”
“Uh. . a gargoyle!”
Becky’s eyes lit up. “That is the best gift for him! He will so love it! Wish I’d thought of it!”
“I’ll go to Annie’s Antiques to shop.”
“I’ll go with you. I might find a gargoyle for Matt, too.”
I shot her a puzzled expression. “Fine. I’d love to have the company.”
We headed to the antique store that I frequented and I immediately scanned the glass case for a vial. There were many crystals and gems, but at first glance I didn’t see a vial.
“A gargoyle isn’t going to be in the case, silly,” Becky said, standing by the outdoor figurines. “They’ll be over here.”
“Yes, I know.”
I glanced back at the case and saw a shiny vial. It was small, with a sterling silver serpent winding around it and a small hook. I could string some cord through it and it would be the ultimate gift for my vampire boyfriend.
I checked the price tag and I had enough money to buy it.
“Here’s one.” Becky pulled me away from the case and toward the gargoyle.
“That is cool,” I said. “But it’s out of my price range.”
I didn’t have enough for both the gargoyle and the present I most wanted to get. I wasn’t sure how to conceal that I wanted to get a vial.
“Oh, yes,” Becky said. “It is kind of steep.”
Instead I decided to make my gift choice known — but not the reason. “I want to buy this,” I said, returning to the case and pointing out the vial. “It’s really cool.”
“I thought you wanted a gargoyle,” she said, peering in the case. “What’s he going to do with a vial?”
“I could put something special in it.”
“A potion?” she teased.
“Yes, exactly. A love potion.”
“But he doesn’t need that — he already loves you. I think he’d like a gargoyle much better. But he’s your boyfriend.”
Annie placed the vial in a small gift box. “Would you like me to wrap it?”
“No, thank you,” I said. “I’ll do that at home.” I couldn’t tell her I still had to fill it with my blood.
Now I was just going to have to figure out how to fill it.
That evening I was rushing through dinner and scarfing down my food.
