Any Ghoul Will Tell You Chapter 1

Meet Sophie, your average high school girl. She just wants to meet a nice normal boy, and when the most desired boy in school asks her out it looks like maybe she's going to get her wish...I said, maybe

 

One:

 

My name is Sophie and I just want to meet a boy with good manners and a reasonable degree of intelligence. I don’t know why I keep meeting all the losers. I mean, why do all the boys at my school have to be vampires, werewolves, or just plain dead? Don’t get me wrong, they are still cute and all, but when one’s skin turns pasty in the moonlight, or they suddenly have more hair on their face than my dad, I have to draw the line.

            Take Stephen for instance. He is so dreamy and on the football team. Girls fall all over him just trying to get his attention. They would feel differently about him for sure if they knew he wears more make up than a TV evangelist’s wife. I found out by accident myself. The tragic part was that it was during my first ever date. I had waited for years until my mom finally relented and let me go on my first date without a chaperone. She did give me a break I guess, as she said I couldn’t date until I was sixteen. I was fifteen and ten months at the time, so thanks Mom.

            I couldn’t believe Stephen actually asked me out. I also couldn’t believe I didn’t pass out on the spot. Damn, he was gorgeous. Never mind the fact that his girlfriend Brooke had been sick with strep for over a week. Maybe in his vanity and high school celebrity he felt he just had to be seen with somebody. That was fine. I was just glad he wanted to be seen with me, plain old Sophie Rose Doyle.

            There’s nothing real special about me. I’m just your average looking girl. In that I mean, I think I’m too fat, I can’t do anything with my hair, and I can never get my eyeliner to look the same over both eyes. Oh man, I hate that too. I wish I could get my makeup perfect like my Mom. She always looks flippin’ beautiful. Of course, she spends hours locked up in her room “fixin’ herself”, as she calls it. But every time she comes out that door, it’s whoa supermodel! Well, except one time, she came out and her makeup was all smudged and then out came dad behind her. There were streaks of makeup on his face and lips where I assumed he had been kissing all over her. How disgusting… Believe me, no girl wants to picture her parents making out. Gross, man.

            But anyway, back to Stephen. I was in the cafeteria line trying to decide which would be more health conscious, pizza or hot dogs, when I noticed he was right next to me in line. He gave me that dreamy smile of his, winked, and said something like, “Hiya Doyle.”

            I prefer everyone call me Sophie, but he could call me butterscotch booboobutt and I wouldn’t have cared. I was so nervous all I could mutter was a quiet “hi.” I’m surprised he even heard me.

            “What you doing this weekend?” he asked.

            I turned around to see if he was talking to someone else in line. “Me?”

            “Yeah you, Doyle.”

            I must have blushed because he laughed. “No need to become a rainbow,” he said with a grin. “It’s just a simple question.”

            “Nothing I g-g-uess,” I managed to stammer.

            “Good. I was wondering if you might like to go to the point with me?”

            I nearly dropped my tray. The Point is not only a popular swimming hole, it also happens to be an infamous make out spot.

            “The point? With you?”

            “Uh duh, yeah. I don’t want to swim alone. Brooke is sick and I thought you looked like you might like swimming.”

            It’s more like I looked like someone who would sink straight to the bottom, but I smiled anyway.

“Yeah, I like swimming.”

“Cool. You want to go then?”

“Yeah.”

“Great, I’ll pick you up noon Saturday. We’ll go get us something to eat first.”

I had managed to keep moving down the cafeteria line and had now reached the end. My hands were clutching my tray so tight my knuckles were turning white.

“You mean like a date?”

“Well, uh yeah, a date.”

“I’m not allowed to go on dates.”

He frowned. “Oh.”

“Unless an adult is there, “ I quickly added.

Then he laughed. “Well that kind of defeats the purpose of a date.”

I smiled. “Yes it does.”

“Too bad you can’t date. It would have been fun.”

“I can ask my Mom,” I quickly added. “I’ll be sixteen in a few months. That’s when she says I can date.”

“Ok. Let me know tomorrow,” he said, walking off to join his friends, who were sitting at their usual table and watching our conversation with interest.

I just stood there watching him walk away. He looked just as good from the back as he did from the front. Oh man, did I say that out loud?