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Vampire Kisses(38)

By:Ellen Schreiber


“Did you faint when you got your ears pierced, too?”

“Don’t get smart!”

“And the mark will go away, too, won’t it?”

“That’s what we’re here to find out. Get the camera.”

Becky took pictures of my wound, front and side. We laid the Polaroids on the cement floor as they developed.

“You’re showing up,” Becky stated.

“Okay. Now the mirror,” I said.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“But if you are—you know, if you’re really a…this could hurt.”

“Becky, we don’t have all day.”

I took off my sunglasses.

“Ready?” she asked, holding the compact.

“Ready.”

She opened the compact and pushed it against my nose.

“Ouch!”

“Oh, no!”

“You’re not supposed to hit me with it! Give that to me!” I grabbed the compact with trembling hands and stared hard. Nothing—or rather, everything. I was still reflecting.

“Try the garlic!” I ordered, tossing the mirror aside.

Becky opened the Tupperware bowl and cut the clove in half.

“Now?” she asked.

“Now.”

I could smell the garlic already. She held the clove under my nose. I took a deep whiff. And coughed wildly.

“Are you okay?”

“Man, that’s strong! Gross! Put it away!”

“It’s fresh—that’s why.”

“Put it away!” I said.

“I like the smell. It clears my sinuses.”

“Well, it’s not supposed to relieve me of nasal congestion. It’s supposed to send me into a revolting frenzy.”

“We have one more shot left.”

She opened the leather pouch. “Ready?”

I took a deep breath. “Go for it!”

She pulled out a jeweled cross on a gold chain.

“Wow, that’s cool,” I said. “It looks very special.”

“Does it bother you?”

“Yes, it bothers me. It bothers me that I was so foolish!”

We stepped into the sunshine—blinding for both of us.

“It’s very glary after sitting in the dark,” Becky commented as she put on her sunglasses. She looked up at me, relieved. “I don’t think you’re a vampire.”

“What was I thinking? Alexander is so special. Why am I acting like Trevor?”

We both stared into the sunshine.

“I had gotten totally caught up in the rumor mill. Just like all the Dullsvillians. I’m no better than they are, am I? We wear different clothes, but I’m just as shallow as they are,” I said, disappointed in myself.

“But you wanted him to be a vampire because you like vampires!”

“Thanks. Maybe I’m supposed to give it twenty-four hours,” I said as we started to walk home.



I awoke to another sunny day. Not only didn’t the sun burn my skin on contact, but its warmth actually felt good against my flesh. Not only didn’t mirrors shatter like they did for Gary Oldman in Bram Stoker’s Dracula, but my reflection looked like it did every day—a pale girl in all black. And the only thing I was thirsty for was a chocolate soda from Shirley’s Bakery.

Still, my heart raced when my mother served linguini with garlic for dinner that night. Everyone stared at me as I played with my food, smelling and taking deep breaths.

“What’s with you?” Billy Boy asked. “You’re acting strange, even for you.”

I twirled some pasta on my fork and raised it slowly to my mouth. “Here goes,” I said.

My parents looked at me like I was an alien. The noodles touched my tongue and I chewed and chewed and took a huge swallow.

“Here goes what?” my mother asked.

I took a breath. I expected my throat to burn and my skin to crawl. I expected to choke and gasp at the first taste of garlic. And then it happened. Nothing. Nothing is what happened.

“Here’s to what?” my mother repeated.

“Here’s to…here’s to another Sarah Madison gourmet dinner!”



Though I wasn’t melting in the sun, shattering mirrors, or cringing from the sent of garlic, I was feeling Alexander’s power in different ways. I was walking on air, as if I could fly like a bat. I couldn’t possibly sleep at night, my mind was racing, dreaming of him, replaying his kisses over and over. I doodled our names surrounded by hearts in all my notebooks during class. I wanted to be with him every moment, because whatever he was, he was my Alexander. My funny, intelligent, caring, lonely, gorgeous, dreamy Alexander. He was more incredible and exceptional than I had ever imagined.

And I was glad I was changing, and not in the way I had fantasized about for so long. I was happy to see my mirrors didn’t shatter, because now I saw a reflection of a girl in love, glowing with happiness. Why should I want to live in a cemetery for eternity, when it might be possible to live in Alexander’s attic room? I didn’t want to cringe from the sunlight but watch Hawaiian sunsets with him. I didn’t want to drink blood but sip pop from Alexander’s neon-green glasses. I wanted to enjoy the things I had always enjoyed—ice cream, horror movies, swings after dark—but now I wanted to share them with him.