Chapter Two: "I Drink Blood"

Angel learns from Kate the truth about her. And receives some ominous, anonymous threat texts

Chapter 2: “I Drink Blood”

When I finally reached my house I noticed my mom’s car in the driveway. My mom had a small, idiotic Smart Car. Yes, a Smart Car and here’s the killer… it was pink. The only thing worse than having her drive around in her pink, little stupid-mobile is to have it parked in the driveway when it’s meant to be with her at work, or deep in the garage.

I unlocked the dark wooden door and went into the foyer, slamming it shut. It was dark in the house, which was odd, since my mom always liked all the lights on. I assume it was fear of the dark. Regardless, I walked in and turned the hallway light on. I needed to find some candles just in case the power went out, due to freaky storm power.

As I rifled around in some drawers, looking for candles that didn’t make me think of my parents doing it. I found about 10 candles and decided to call my mom, while I searched for some more candles. As I picked through the drawer for candles that didn’t say “Je t’aime, m’amour!” on the bottom with one hand and listened to my mother’s ring-back tone of “Extraball” by YukSek.

“’ello?” my mother’s voice trilled through her cell.

“Bonjour, maman, c’est moi, Angelique.” I said to her.

“’Ello, Angelique, it’s your mozer. Speak Engleesh, will you?” she said in her thick, heavy accent.

“D’accord, maman. I’m going out this afternoon and I should be home around 8 o’clock or whatever, so just don’t be expecting me home for dinner.” I spoke fast, just to spite her.

“Well, Angelique, eet’s nawt a prahblem for me. I will just, uh, bring somezing home from work for you. ‘ow is zat?” she said loudly, as if it would make her English any better.

“Non maman. I’m going to be having dinner at Café Latrice with a new friend of mine, Charli�"I mean Kate Jennings,” I said, avoiding the obvious question that was next.

“ANGELIQUE! ‘Ow could you? My own daughtair is betraying me! To go to Café Latrice? For dinnair? You cannot! You can’t go zere, see! Zey do not compare to my restauran’, where we are not a café!” My mother spat into the phone. My mother, Alaina Adoree Moros nee Anton, is very dramatic. I could imagine her flailing around. And the only way to calm down my childish mother, is to treat her like a child.

“The girl who I am having dinner with chose the place. It’s only a custom to do as she wants, maman. I cannot refuse her what she wants when she is the one paying and all.” I reasoned. My mother was the head chef at the best restaurant, Loreal (aka Cirque du Soufflé (which is such a stupid nickname, but whatever) in Soldadt, in fact, in all of Soldadt County, which is saying a lot.

Soldadt County has five districts in it with 2 or 3 cities in each district. There’s Hamilton District with Soldadt, Hollis, and Rembuck; where I live, in Soldadt, of course. The other district, Washington District has Olton, Renee, and Pieurenis as its 3 cities. There’s Luneau District with LuneDuLis and Selkie, then Wilde District with Ivy, Oscar, and Ivory counties. And the last district, Post District has Winehouse, Lucilleville, and Amberton, which has a mini-city inside of it called Amber, because that place is country. And the urban part of the city is called Amber whereas the rest is called Henny. It’s all very complicated. And MY MOTHER was HEAD CHEF of the BEST RESTAURANT in ALL of these cities.

“Ugh, you Americans always zink you knuh what you mean,” my mother said rudely.

“ Mon dieu, I’m not even American! What are you talking about?” I said loudly.

“Leesten, I will bring you whatever you want and you will eat it. You cannot really stand to eat at zat place. It ees against the rules of nature! And you know somezing? I knuh you will be ‘ungry when you get ‘ome! Parce que�"I mean, because you won’t be eating anyzing you order, because you won’t like it,” my mother proclaimed. I frowned and rolled my eyes. There was no point in fighting with her.

“D’accord. I guess I’ll just talk to you when I get home or when you do. Bye, je t’aime,” I said, tiredly. Before she could say anything I hung up the phone. If I had mysteriously died, I would have known that she loved me so it didn’t actually make a difference.

I began to light candles and put them all around the house, walking up the stairs. Finally I got up to my room with around 20 candles and began lighting them and placing them around.

Admittedly, my room was huge. It was shaped like a giant arch, with my round canopy bed in the middle of the arc. My room had an Ancient Rome feel to it with large golden drawers and huge, intricately designed golden doors. My walk-in-closet was very modern as opposed to Roman, for space. My room walls were white with a sky blue ceiling, with fluffy white clouds. Pillars lined the walls, and before the arcing curve, the floor was covered in white wood paneling, where as the curved area had a gold-colored carpet. There were large gold and white bean-bags and a huge carpet with an Olympian scene playing out. My mother always joked that Arachnid had sewn it herself.

I dropped my purse and messenger bag on the floor and lit the white and gold candles that were around my room. They were decorative but I wanted to be perfectly sure that I’d have enough light to do my business. I walked into the bathroom and turned on the lights, illuminating the large room with the large chandelier in the middle of the ceiling.

My bathroom looked like a royal bath house of the Ancient times, with a (faux) marble round sink that came out of the wall rather than standing on a leg from the floor, a (faux) marble floor, and the gigantic gold plated bathtub (my toilet was a regular, plain, self-cleaning one. I’m not too spoiled!). It was a large rectangle that took up the entire left wall and much of the front wall, ending right before you reached the door. The tub also had many nozzles on it and many buttons surrounding it. Half of the bathtub was actually a Jacuzzi bath, with a wall separating the regular tub. All I had to do was push a button and it would lower itself.

I quickly undressed, lit some vanilla-scented candles, dimmed the lights and pushed a brown button, which released a spewing waterfall of creamy, vanilla-scented, almond-colored bubble bath. I turned 2 long handles and out of the main spout came a fast flow of semi-hot water. As I waited for the bath tub to begin filling I walked over to the touch-screen wall pad near the door.

The TeleTech SmartHouse we lived in came with all sorts of hi-tech things, especially in the kitchen. But the bathroom came with an awesome little board that had all sorts of settings. It had a clock that told weather, temp in the bathroom, time, everything! It even connected to the internet and made calls. There was also a control on the bathtub that controlled Jacuzzi jets and water temp. I pressed a few buttons on the pad to alert me to get out of the bath. I put a couple towels in the towel warmer under the sink and closed the door to the frosted-glass mist/waterfall shower in the back corner of the bathroom.

Finally the tub was full. I lowered myself in and turned on the TV on the back wall. I couldn’t think of a single thing I wanted to watch, as stressed as I was. I pushed a button on the tubs pad and turned the TV off, while switching on the radio/CD player. I turned on a Sade CD, tied up my hair in a messy bun, and relaxed in the hot, soapy waters.

I had no clue why I was so stressed. There was something about Kate Jennings that made me want to turn away from her, instinctually. But in my heart I knew I should befriend and help her. I fingered the pendant around my neck.

I had a necklace with a big diamond hanging from a platinum chain. Whenever I was nervous I would play with it because it calmed me down. I had gotten it from my dead grandmother. Originally it was supposed to be handed down to my mother. That’s how the tradition in my family was, from mother to daughter. But my mom didn’t want it. She said it was to gaudy and that it felt heavy and unlucky when she wore it. I never understood what she meant by that but I didn’t care. I loved it. I loved the intricate, little holder it was set in; a long curve of platinum dipped down and on the other side a shorter curve dipped under and the tips nearly touched. The diamond was set right in the middle where a tiny sliver of metal held the diamond up.

The soothing sounds of Sade, the warm vanilla bath, the yummy smelling candles… everything mixed together made my eyes droop low. Maybe a 5 minute nap would relax me, since I wasn’t about to have Tony come over so we could smoke or something. Besides, I didn’t care for marijuana, anyways.

*BEE-BEEP! BEE-BEEP! CHECK YO’ TEXTS B***H!*

I lifted my head and looked at my phone. Text from Tony.

Text from Tony

2:50 PM

~* Hi ma, wassuP? I wanna see yoU, like effin noW. Wanna meet up at ChiamA or your mom’s place, mami?*~

I rolled my eyes and pounded a text back into my BlackBerry.

**~Hey, papi chullo, sorry, I can’t. I gotta do s/t buht I’ll get back to you after I’m done so stay free and stay sober <3~**

I placed my phone on the white, fluffy carpet in front of my bathtub and into its waterproof case and pushed a little gold button, splitting the wall between bath and Jacuzzi. As the bubbles in each side melded together I closed my eyes and dipped under the water, floating into the huge bathtub. I stayed under until I couldn’t any longer, popping up for air.

*BEE-BEEP! BEE-BEEP! CHECK YO’ TEXTS B***H!* I heard Chella’s voice come out of my phone. I didn’t have time to check the text from Tony (who it obviously was), so instead of going over and getting my phone, I pushed a gold button and out came a thick, golden , upright rectangle with a bunch of buttons. I pushed one brown button with a cream-colored “S” in the middle and put my head under a nozzle. After a few sputtering noises, vanilla scented shampoo came gushing out of the nozzle and I began massaging it into my hair. I pushed a clear button and water came gushing out next. My soapy hair was washed clean; sending the water into a drain built into an indentation about 6 inches into the side of the bathtub arm. I pressed the other brown button labeled “C” and out came a cream-colored conditioner and waited for the designated 5 minutes.

While waiting I floated over to my cell phone and took it out of its case, checking the text.

Text from Private Number

2:52 PM

Be careful of who you hang with and what you do. We’ll be watching

I looked at the text with a twang of fear in my heart. No, I wasn’t scared. It was just Tony trying to get me to hang out with hi instead of Kate. I wrote a quick text to Tony, making sure not too leave the conditioner in for too long.

**~Stuuuupid! That’s not funny. I could get scared you know >:P I won’t hang with you if you start being immature. Don’t get jealous cuz u know I <3 u!!~**

I rolled my eyes right before my original, Chella-made *CHECK YO’ TEXTS B***H!* came shouting at me. I snatched up my phone and read the text from Tony.

Text from Tony

2:54 PM

~* WTF r u talking about, Angel? I didn’t reply to ur text yet. Y r u mad at me?*~

I looked incredulously at the text, surprised. Tony would admit to a joke like that one. It was pretty good. But now that I knew it wasn’t a joke, I wasn’t sure who had sent it or why. Because by now it really wasn’t very funny at all.

**~NVM, Some1 just sent me a really stupid text. 4get it. I’ll see u l8r tonight. I’ll call u, ok?~**

I hit send, slid my phone into the waterproof case, and moved to wash the conditioner out of my hair. I felt awful and weird. Like I was being watched, and that wasn’t a feeling I particularly enjoyed. Being seen and being watched were different things. “I saw Angelique in a cute, red, Burberry pea-coat,” is different than, “I watched Angelique in her cute, red, Burberry pea-coat”. One was creepy and one was complimentary, you decide.

I finished bathing and pressed a button labeled “DRAIN” in big blocky letters. I loud, sucking noise started, which made me jump, due to the text I’d received. I exhaled to calm down and dried myself with a towel from the warmer. I put on my cashmere and cotton robe and sat on the toilet seat, sniffing the vanilla air. I needed to calm down. It was nothing more than some idiot’s idiotic idea of a fun joke. I could deal.

*BEEP-ING! BEEP-ING!* The alarm I had set went off and startled me, causing me to jump again. I hit the “Off” with a hard press and put my hands on my face. My heart was racing. For some reason this didn’t seem like an idiotic prank. My gut was telling me that it wasn’t just a joke.

I sighed and walked out of the bathroom after setting the tub on self-clean. I braced myself to not be surprised when I heard the tub cover move over it as the cleaning mode set in as I exited the bathroom.

I walked out to my closet and opened the frosted glass door. I closed it behind me, which helped ease the feeling of being watched. I plugged my iPod into the Dock and started swinging my hips to “I Caught Myself” by Paramore, trying to shake the paranoid feeling from my mid. That’s exactly what I was being. Paranoid! I shoved through my shirts, picking through to find the perfect one.

I had my closet set up with tops and dresses on one side and bottoms on the other. Everything was arranged with color and with type. Pink shirts together and white dresses together. Black pants went together and red skirts together. Jeans had their separate place. Skinny fit together next to pencil leg fit contrasting with the wide-legged jeans next to the flare jeans.

I finally put together the perfect outfit after 20 minutes; black liquid leggings, a hot pink bustier, a silver and black mini motorcycle jacket, and flat black boots. I walked farther back into the closet, sat at my “Beauty Station” (equipped with rows of MAC, NARS, Hard Candy, Beauty Rush, and hair supplies), and started applying make-up without a single thought about it. Hot pink lid, silver contour with smoky black liner and pink Beauty Rush lip gloss, the thought didn’t occur to me. I just started moving my hands. I teased my long, black locks into a modern pin-up style and put a heart shaped lock earring in one ear and a key earring in the other ear.

I finished getting dressing and walked out of my closet, an hour after entering. I threw a glance at the digital wall clock over my bed. It was only 4.10 PM so I had plenty of time, but judging by Kate’s attitude; she probably wanted me to be at Latrice early. I walked around and blew out the candles in my room. As I exited the house I blew out all of the candles and turned off the lights. I set the alarm and walked out of the house.

I walked over to my motorcycle and stroked the seat. I sighed, due to the weather I wouldn’t be taking it. I had 2 motorcycles. One my father’s father had bought for me, and one that my dad had bought for me. My mother didn’t like me riding motorcycles but I did anyways, without any remorse. I smiled at the metallic blue, silver, and black paint job. I turned on my heel, swinging my huge black Balenciaga and walked over to my blue Mustang. I could take my mom’s SmartCar or my dad’s Range Rover, but I thought that by taking The ‘Stang, I would be connecting to Kate on a higher level. A relationship level. I hopped in, jacked my iPod and put on a “Human Nature” by Michael Jackson. Not driving music but Michael always calmed me down, and besides that, even the French knew Michael.

*BEE-BEEP! BEE-BEEP! CHECK YO’ TEXTS B***H!* My text-tone shouted. I rolled my eyes as my heart began pounding. I hoped it wasn’t mysterious stalker. And I hoped that my life hadn’t turned into some sort of stupid horror movie, like Scream.

Text from Private Number

4:13 PM

Don’t forget my advice. Be careful. Don’t believe everything you hear

I nearly broke my phone. I wasn’t scared, now I was just angry. Who the hell had the nerve to text me life lessons like they were my mother? Who the hell were they to freak me out? Most importantly... who the hell were they?

**~IDK who u r, but u need to leave me the f**k alone unless u wanna reveal urself rite now. F**k off!~**

I texted back to them quickly before slamming my foot on the gas pedal. The song changed to “Hollaback Girl” with a startling change and my heart jumped. I shook my head and drove to the city center, right to Soldadt Square, where Café Latrice was located, along with a movie theater, a couple of nice stores, a Target, Starbucks, Barnes and Noble, and some other restaurants (including Loreal), along with Hamilton District Library, town hall, and a park. I drove into the lot, yanked out my iPod, unplugged my phone from the car charger and my GPS system, and dropped them all into my purse. I got out of my car after breathing deeply. I walked into Café Latrice and looked around. Kate hadn’t yet arrived. I was 5 minutes early, anyways. I stood in front of the Hostess Post and waited.

“Hello,” came a slow, drawling accent. “How may I help you today, ma’am.” The girl in front of me wore a red blazer over a black button down with white pants. None of the colors went well with her dark complexion.

“Yeah, can I a booth for two please?” I asked, politely. The girl nodded, looked around (as if to indicate that there was nobody else around), and walked me to a table near the bar. I sat and thanked her.

“Your waiter will be with you soon. I expect someone should be meeting you?” she said, dumbly.

“Yes!” I said. I wanted to add ‘you twit!’ at the end but I didn’t. “She’s about 5’ 9” or so, white with black, shoulder-length hair, and really blue eyes. You’ll know when you see her.” The dumb girl looked at me oddly. Maybe it was the slight French accent, the outfit, or the description of the person I was meeting. I didn’t care, either way. She was staring at me.

“You can go now,” I sighed, tiredly. She shuffled away with her short bob of braids swinging side to side.

I looked down at my menu and at people near me. The food looked OK but I didn’t really know their specialty. I would get loaded potato skins as an appetizer and fish and chips as an entrée.

A thin Latino girl with a short ponytail walked over to me in a grey jacket, black button down shirt, and white slacks. I shook my head at her ridiculous outfit.

“Hi, I’m Massiel. I’ll be your server tonight, is there any drink you’d like?” the girl asked.

“No, Massiel, there’s not. I’m kidding, I want a frozen strawberry lemonade. Besides, when’d you start working here?” I asked my friend and neighbor. She smiled and her grey eyes glinted from behind her glasses.

“Uh, 5 months ago, I think. I’m doing very well, too. Can you imagine how long it took to be promoted to this job? Anyways, I’ll get your drink and be right back. Who’re you meeting anyways?” Massiel spoke very quickly.

“Oh, the new girl, Katherine Jennings. Then I’m going to meet Tony.” I said, smiling.

“Katherine? Hmm, that name isn’t�"oh! You mean Charlize? Yeah, she seemed cool. Little... I don’t know, standoffish?” Massiel sighed. She turned and went to get my drink. 3 minutes later, with no sign of Kate being on time, Massiel returned.

“Anything else?” she asked, unfazed to be serving me. When I’d gone to her house 7 months ago I had asked for some milk for my Oreos and she had told me to “get them your own damn self!”

“Yeah, loaded potato skins for now. Then I think I’ll have the fish and chips. Afterwards, I mean.” I smiled and laughed. As Massiel left to place the order and help the other patrons, I checked my Facebook from my phone. It was 4:40 already, and I had 6 messages, 9 friend requests, 3 groups’ invites, a Mafia Wars add request, and 12 comments on my status, along with 14 other notifications. I wrote a new one reading “At Café Latrice, bout to meet new chick “Charlize”. I won’t say text it. If you want to text me, then do it, luvs. But you don’t need Facebook status permission. Wats planned for tonite? XOXO <3!!”

I set down my phone and began wringing my hands. I hated people being late. Especially since I was early. My blood was rushing through my veins. My adrenaline had to be unnaturally high today.

Massiel returned 10 minutes later, at 4:50, with my loaded potato skins.

“Thanks, Mass,” I said with a smile. I popped one potato skin loaded with chili, cheese, sour cream and bacon bites (a cholesterol/waist line nightmare) and moaned in ecstasy. My mom’s restaurant was too upscale for this kind of food. After a while I realized I’d be too full to eat my dinner if I kept eating the potato skins. I raised my hand in the air and watched Massiel speed over to me.

“Yeah, your food should be finished soon so I’ll bring it out. DO you want to order for Charlize?” she asked me taking out her pad.

“Who? Oh, Kate? No, she can order her own damn self. That’s what she gets for being 25 minutes late. Her last name doesn’t have a Spade after it, so I don’t have to care about her as much as she obviously thinks she does.”

“Ha,” she laughed. “OK, BRB, Ange.”

She walked quickly away and I watched her. About 5 minutes she came back with my fish and chips. I got through the first of four fried fish fillets before I looked up and felt my heart stop. I wanted to scream but I couldn’t because I almost choked on the piece of fish in my mouth.

“F**k! What the f**k, Kate?” I whisper-shouted at her, trying to slow my breathing down.

“Hello to you, too,” she said in her English accent. She quickly ate the five remaining potato skins and waved her hand at Massiel. Massiel walked over to our table and grinned a fake smile.

“How may I help you, ma’am?” she asked Kate.

“Uh, can I get the rib-eye steak? Rare, really rare, you know? And, uh, the mashed potatoes and the string beans. Oh, and a Bloody Mary,” Kate said quickly.

“Uh, you’re too young for that. And they’re, um,” Masi lowered her voice to a whisper, “they’re not too yum here. They’re a little… bloody, if you get me.”

Kate stared up into Massiel’s face and I could have sworn I saw something cross through her eyes and soon Masi’s glazed over and slowly fluttered closed. Just as quickly as the weird exchange had happened Masi’s eyes were wide open and a little crazed.

“I’m sure we can work something out, though. I’ll be back with your drink and food momentarily,” Masi said before walking off to the kitchen.

“What the heck was that about?” I asked, trying and failing to eat a French fry. I plopped it down on my plate. Damn my nerves.

“Nothing, jnwyrk, do you have to breathe down my neck? Bite it, while you’re at it, huh?” she snapped. I looked at her wide-eyed. A quote from the ‘70s movie, The Warriors popped into my mind. Not “can you count suckers? I say the future is ours… if you can count!” No, I mean “When you’re president of the biggest gang in the city, you don’t have to take any s**t.”

“Excuse me, but no. I am so not breathing down your pale, little, scrawny neck! You invited me here and let’s see already you’re 45 minutes late and swearing at me in some made-up language! I’m sorry�"no I’m not sorry. I’m not taking s**t from you! I have friends, almost everyone in school loves me! So I don’t need you or your issues, which you’ve got more of than Vogue. Get over yourself!” I said loudly, standing up to leave.

“Sit!” she commanded in a ringing voice that was quiet but somehow loud. I sat.

“I can trust you, I told you so before. Think you can trust me?” she asked as she ate a fry off my plate. I rolled my eyes and leaned back in my seat.

“I don’t know, why not? I mean, you’ve done nothing but act like a PMS-ing heroin addict, but why not?” I asked, dramatically.

“In your mind you trust me. It’s all there.”

“What the f**k does that mean?” I demanded.

“It means… whatever the hell you want it to mean.” She said, sounding exactly like Elaine from Seinfeld. I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help but smile. She caught me eye and grinned and we both started giggling.

“I drink blood.” She said, shoving another fry into her mouth. I stopped laughing soon enough.

“What the heck are you saying, girl?” I asked her.

“I’m saying… I drink blood.”

“As in you’re a vampire?”

“Yeah, you catch on real quick.” And I laughed heartily because apparently this broad was a comedienne.

“I’m serious,” she said. She looked serious. Her icy blue eyes scolded my skin and in my mind I felt like she was serious. She looked like a mix between calm and pissed. Was that how all the chicks looked when they were serious? Did I look like that?

I sat staring with my mouth hanging open and my eyes squinting as Massiel came over and served Kate.

“Thanks, I’m starved!” she said devouring her food. As Masi left I looked at Kate.

“You know you’re not as funny as you think,” I told her ferociously.

“I don’t aim for funny, I aim for honesty,” she said through chomps of her steak. “And calm the f**k down.”

“No. If you’re the vamp where’s Jacob and Charlie. You know… I always wanted the meet Lestat, he seems fun,” my voice started to rise.

“You know I’m telling the truth.” She said through mouthfuls of potatoes. “You want to know how I know. I, as a vampire, have a power. I can read, understand, and control the mind. I never do the latter, it’s an invasion of privacy. But I can understand every language known to man and some not known to man. I speak ‘em too. And you know, even without me reading your mind I know that you know that I’m being honest.”

“So… all vampires have them? Powers,” I asked, giving up. She was right, I did believe her. I didn’t know why. I always had this thing. I could read people easily. When people lie they usually do a nervous habit or try extra hard to seem offended about accusations. She was calm and didn’t seem to care whether or not I believed what she was saying.

“Most of us do, majority. The minority who don’t are usually in big clans so they’re protected. Or they travel in packs and live underground, or above ground in the dirtiest parts of the biggest cities, so nobody notices them,” she explained.

“Huh… so this happens after the bite. What goes on there?” I asked as I started eating my fries. I only could eat about 10 or so. My stomach was tight with the anticipation of knowing. I always knew there was more than met the eye. There was something else. Not the whole picture jive you get from mumbo-jumbo swallowing geek-a-zoids who devour sci-fi and Wiccan, new age bullshit.

I mean the kind of thing where you’re not the only intelligent beings. There’s a feeling you get that’s warm and sweet or bitter and prickly. Warm and sweet, like honey dew mist floating in the air and settling on your skin, but it’s dry and soft. That’s good. And bitter and prickly is like a sour cherry pie with a thick, buttery crust. It lulls you into false security and packs a punch. It’s ominous. And that’s not so good.

“For somebody who’s trying to be nonchalant, you seem extremely interested,” Kate said with a grin.

“You gonna tell me or not?” I asked in a slick way.

“I am, calm down. An eager beaver�"”

“�"Could be the collapse of a dam, I know, I listen to Drake and I read. I know clichés. Tell me something I don’t know,” I said, interrupting her.

“Well, of course it hurts initially, I mean, even if our fangs didn’t elongate to bite through the flesh it would hurt. If a normal person bit you it’d hurt. But the chemicals of our separate beings react so that it doesn’t hurt too much. Genetically speaking, of course.

“We bite and our saliva has a type of virus or something in it that attacks our victims DNA. It numbs them and releases endorphins into their bloodstream.

“While our DNA attacks theirs it changes it. It changes it to vampire DNA. You can hear and see much better, better than ever before. You have night vision. You won’t need oxygen 24/7. Your eyes change, that’s probably to benefit the vision. You acquire your power and your fangs. You want blood. It makes you stronger.

“You’re a subset of human… but you’re better. Faster. Stronger. Smarter. More Graceful. Gorgeous times ten. You live two times as long. It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced. And yet, it’s like being born again. And you forget how it felt to be a weaker being. All you know is the power trip that you’ve embarked upon. All you know is vampire,” she says darkly. My spine tingles. I want to know the feeling. I want to be powerful. That is all I want as she explains to me the change. My heart speeds up as my mind races with the possibilities. This justified everything.

Kate’s eyes were ice blue because of her change. That’s why she was so beautiful and pale. She was so graceful it was gross. Her cousins weren’t cousins at all, but coven members. Kate wasn’t lying. She was a vampire. And I was a human. What a cliché. But for some reason one thought never left my mind. After a brief pause I spoke again.

“Why me,” I asked. “Why are you telling me all of this?”

“Because, like I said, I trust you. And you have something I’m finding myself… in need of,” she said sparing a glance at my necklace and then quickly looking at my face. She flipped her black hair and sipped some of her Bloody Mary.

“How old�"” I began.

“I’m 18.” She said, finishing off her food.

“No you aren’t. You said vampires live double the time of a human. So if you were 15 then you’d be 30. You’re 18, so you’re 36!” I said.

“Wrong! I’m actually 19,” she declared, sounding like Willy Wonka (Gene Wilder, not Johnny Depp) as he scold/yelled at Charlie Bucket. “I was turned at age 11 therefore I am 27 years of age. I have lived 27 years. But time is relative. Created by man. So to be quite honest I am as old as I want to be!”  She knew my next question would be ‘turned at eleven?’ and shook her head. I knew it was a signal not to speak on about it. I nodded and took out my phone.

 *Tony baby, come meet me at Café Latrice in 10 minutes. I have my car, so we’ll take that. Have Cory Hymen drop you off because I know that you’re with him.*

“It’s rude, you know. I don’t know where you people get off thinking you can do that; texting while having a dinner with somebody. Before cell phones we actually had to sit and talk to people at dinner. We actually had to verbally communicate with each other. Maybe that’s why you people haven’t any manners. I’ve forgotten how much I loathe high schools.” Kate said.

“But you’ve only been out of it for 11 years. I mean, you’re acting like your old,’ I complain. My cell phone buzzes my current text tone “Party in the USA”.

*U don’t kno s**t, but yeh I’m wit my boy Cory. Yeh, I’ll do that. Be there in 30 min bay! <3*

*Mmkay you a*s. See you in 30* I responded to Tony’s text message. I put my phone down.

“Sorry. Are we done here though? I can tell that I can excavate a lot more than what you’re already told me,” I said warily.

“We aren’t even close to done yet,” she responds, ominously. “This is only the beginning. Be it short as it may, it’s the beginning and the real fun hasn’t even started. Meet me at my house at 1 PM tomorrow. I’ll text you my address in 2 hours, so pay attention.”

I looked at her in disbelieve. She was controlling, mean, rude, self-centered, demanding, and obviously manipulating. She glanced at my necklace and away so fast I almost couldn’t tell what she was doing.

“OK,” I said giving up any fight I thought to put up it would be a stupid waste of time anyways. What was the point? For the remainder of 28 minutes we talked about fashion, celebrities, and our distaste for American culture and their lack of a better economy.