Home > Kissing Coffins (Vampire Kisses #2)(5)

Kissing Coffins (Vampire Kisses #2)(5)
Author: Ellen Schreiber

It was bad enough I was losing Alexander to the Underworld, but when I needed my best friend the most, I was losing her to 3-D pinball.

"I gotta go," I said, turning away.

"So what was your top secret news?" Matt asked. "It'll be great to hear something other than Trevor's bogus stories for once."

I stared at the happy couple--Cupid's newest bull's-eyes.

"Trevor was right. The Sterlings really are vampires," I said impulsively.

They stared at me like I was crazy. Then they burst into laughter.

I, too, laughed and then walked away.

I packed my suitcase full of black garments, unsure of what I was preparing for. To be safe I also packed a clove of garlic in Tupperware, Ruby's compact, and a can of Mace.

To calm my nerves, I opened my Olivia Outcast journal and made a list of Positives of Dating a Vampire:

1. He'll be around for eternity.

2. He can always fly for free.

3. I'll save hundreds of dollars on wedding photos.

4. No mirrors to Windex. 5. He'll never have garlic breath.

I closed my journal. I had one more thing to pack.

I opened the door to my brother's room. Billy was tapping his skinny fingers on his computer keyboard.

"What do. you want?" he snapped when I peeked in.

"Want? It's not what I want, but rather what I have to give. I picked this up after school today from Software City. They said it was the latest."

I showed him Wrestling Maniacs 3.

"Did you steal it?"

"Of course not--I may be weird, but I'm not a thief!"

He reached for the game, but I held it firm. "I just need one thing in return."

He rolled his eyes. "I knew it!"

"It's just teensy-weensy."

"Answers to a test?" he guessed.

"Not this time."

"Need a paper written?"

"Not yet."

"Then what?"

"I need a fake ID," I whispered. "Aunt Libby is not going to take you to a bar!"

"Of course she's not. But it's really for identification, since I won't have my driver's license for a few months."

"Use your school ID, then."

"I need to be eighteen!" I started to shout. Then I took a deep breath. "There's a library convention, and I need to be eighteen to check out books."

"Whatever! Mom and Dad will kill you! You're too young to drink."

"I'm not going to drink. I just want to hang out."

"What would Alexander say if he found that you were going cruising without him?"

"I'm hoping to meet him there," I whispered.

"I knew it! You couldn't care less about 'my favorite aunt Libby,' " he said in a girlie voice.

"Pretty please?" I asked, dangling the game before his computer-strained eyes.

"Well..."

"You'll make it?"

"No, but I know someone who will."

For the first time ever I walked my brother to school--Dullsville Middle. The redbrick building, front lawn, and playground looked surprisingly smaller than when I had attended several years ago. "I used to skip class and hide out over there," I said, pointing to a small athletics equipment shed.

"I know," he said. "'Raven was here' is scratched all over the side."

"I guess I skipped more than I thought," I said with a grin.

I felt like a towering gothic giant as I walked up the front lawn among girls sporting Bratz T-shirts and Strawberry Shortcake notebooks and boys with overstuffed Pokemon backpacks.

I figured we were meeting a corrupt shop teacher, but instead we were greeted at the entrance by an eleven-year-old red-haired wunderkind named Henry.

"What do you need to make fake IDs for?" I asked him. "Getting into Chuck E. Cheese's after hours?"

Billy Boy's friend gazed up at me, like he'd never seen a real girl up close.

"You can stare at my picture after you take it," I joked.

"Follow me," he said.

In the hallway we were stopped by Mrs. Hanley, my sixth grade math teacher.

"Raven Madison! You look so grown up!"

I could tell she had expected me to wind up in juvie hall or shipped off to a boarding school. She stared at my brother and me, obviously wondering how two such different human beings could come from the same shared DNA.

"I never realized Billy was your brother," she confessed. "I know," I whispered. "I'm amazed, too."

"Well, some things haven't changed," she said, walking off. She kept looking back as if she had seen an apparition. I knew who'd be the subject of today's talk around the microwave in the teachers' lounge.

We stopped at Henry's locker, the only one with a combination lock that was hooked up to a garage door opener. Henry flipped the control switch and the combo lock sprung open. Computer games, electronics, and programming manuals were organized in racks like a miniature computer store.

He pulled out a digital camera hidden underneath a shelf.

"Let's go."

I followed them around the corner to the computer room. But it was locked. My heart sank.

"This can't happen! Break a window if you have to," I said, half jokingly.

Both geeky preteens looked at me as if I were the odd one.

Henry dug into the back pocket of his chinos and pulled out a worn brown leather wallet. He opened it and got out a credit card. He slid the card into the door, jiggled it a little, and within a moment the door slipped open.

"I like your style," I said with a smile.

Twenty minutes later I was staring at an eighteen-year-old Raven. "I look good for my age," I said with a wink, and headed for home.

Chapter 4 Hipsterville

"Mom, I'm not going to Siberia. I'll be back in two days." We were sitting at Dullsville's Greyhound bus stop, outside Shirley's Ice Cream Parlor. She was trying to strangle me with kisses when the bus squealed to the curb in front of a few other young Dullsvillians heading out early for spring break.

As the bus pulled away and I waved good-bye from my window seat in the back, I actually felt a pang in my stomach. This would be my first trip away from Dullsville on my own. I even wondered if I would return.

I sat back, closed my eyes, and thought what it would be like if I became Alexander's vampiress.

I imagined Alexander waiting for me at Hipsterville's bus stop, standing in the rain, wearing tight black jeans and a glow-in-the-dark Jack Skellington shirt, a small bouquet of black roses in one hand. Upon seeing me, his pale face would flush with just enough pink to make him look alive. He'd take my hand in his, lean into me, and kiss me long. He would whisk me off in his restored vintage hearse, adorned with painted spiders and cobwebs, the music of Slipknot blasting from the speakers.

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