Southern Exposure, Page 2

  * * *

  My ears tingled with the engine's deep, aggressive rumble as I ran up through the gears. The seat, the pedals, even the steering wheel vibrated with the intoxicating resonance. The car did suit me and the sheer power coaxed my anger to the surface.

  "You!" I growled as I let my imagination take control. "I've been looking forward to this."

  The vampire wheeled around, stunned. He was old by human years, and I could see at once he was terrified.

  "That's right, your eternity ends right here, right now." My grip tightened on the steering wheel and the engine's vibration made it to my clenched teeth. "It's time to pay for what you did to me." I pounced, tearing into his marble flesh.

  The tires squealed in defiance as the car suddenly veered to the left. I snapped the steering wheel to the right, easing off the gas as I straightened out. The speedometer read 80 MPH. I slowed to a stop at the intersection with Old National Pike. A flash of sunlight in the rearview mirror caught my attention as I turned west toward Boonsboro. I glanced down at my hands, but the exposed skin was well coated with the pale human tint I used to mask my skin from the sunlight. The tight, mask-like coating was uncomfortable, but necessary if there was any chance of exposure to direct sunlight. The sun didn't hurt, but my skin glistened in tiny facets that would draw immediate attention to the fact I wasn't human. The morning weather report called for the clouds to clear before the end of the school day.

  Fear suddenly gripped me as I got my first glimpse of the school. What am I doing? This is crazy. Sure animal blood provided sustenance, but it was never completely satisfying—only masking the thirst for human blood. I studied my honey-golden eyes in the rearview mirror and knew that my thirst was as under control as it could be. I pulled into the student lot and parked near the back; but after turning off the engine, I just sat there, frozen. Was I really ready for this? I'd never experienced the same intense craving for human blood that the others talked about, but I wasn't immune to it either. It occurred to me that maybe that meant something. Had the vampire that changed me come from a similar coven that tried to abstain from human blood? Maybe I was just the unfortunate victim of falling off the wagon. Even so, it was a mistake he'd pay for. I picked up my papers and scanned over them. It would be just like Elizabeth to intentionally omit something, but to my relief everything seemed in order.

  The tinny, irritating, high-pitched drone from the exhaust of what I'd heard the boys at the mall call a ricer, caught my attention as a car squealed around the corner headed toward the parking lot.

  As I turned to look, I spotted Tink lingering near the football stadium. He wouldn't approve of my plan, but it was nice to know he was here to keep an eye on me—truthfully though, if it went badly, there would be little he could do. It occurred to me that maybe he was only there for damage control.

  The ricer screeched to a stop in the adjacent parking spot. The oily smell of a worn out engine drifted over me in a blue cloud.

  "What a sweet ride!" a distinctly male voice said.

  I turned toward the car, and there they were, my first student contact, two boys, both tall, towering over their tiny car. They were wearing t-shirts, shorts and sandals. Their skin bronze from the summer sun. They were muscular, strong by human standards, probably athletes.

  "Holy crap!" The closest boy groaned. "A freakin' Emo Cathy clone." He burst out laughing.

  The boy on the driver's side leaned over the rust streaked roof to stare at me. "She looks like freakin' Tish from the Addam's Family." They slapped hands over the car.

  Okay, this wasn't exactly the reaction I'd had in mind. I reached down and unlatched the door.

  "Careful dude, she might bite!" The driver warned his friend.

  An ironic smile lifted the corner of my lips, if they only knew. The boy closest to me retreated to the other side of the car in mock horror. I stepped out of my car and turned to close the door.

  "Whoa!" I heard one of the boys mumble.

  "So where'd you steal that from?" The driver asked.

  The question took me by surprise. Tink wouldn't steal the car thinking I'd get caught, would he? Was that the trap I'd been expecting? That was ridiculous. I cocked my head to the side and turned toward them, confused.

  "A freakin' sixty six, what a waste." Both boys shook their heads in apparent disbelief, turned away and leaned back against their car.

  This was my chance to escape, so I quickly headed across the almost empty lot toward the school. Behind me I heard them laughing. One word said in jest caught my attention. "Vampire."

  I paused at the front door, taking an anxious, but unnecessary breath. At least for the moment, the human scent was faint. I opened the door, glanced back at Tink, and then stepped inside the building. The door slowly swung closed behind me latching with the metallic clank of a cage. The muscles in my back tightened with apprehension, but I inched forward—one step after another until I was standing outside the front office.

  "Good morning, hon," a friendly voice sang from behind me.

  I spun around to face a rotund woman, likely in her mid-forties. She wore a flowered-print dress adorned with a paper, stick-on nametag that read, Mrs. Hall.

  "Oh, my!" she exclaimed, her face turning crimson at her startled outburst. "You must be Izzy Faulkner." She continued in a placid tone.

  I nodded.

  Her smile seemed forced, but the lines in her face embraced it. "Well, come right this way, and we'll get you started."

  I stepped to the side and then followed her into the outer office. She scooted behind the counter, set her purse and a small paper bag, presumably her lunch, behind the counter and sat down. I couldn't help notice how small her lunch seemed for such a plump woman and considered how she was probably enough to satisfy a vampire's thirst for weeks. She held out her hand.

  "Oh right." I dug my papers out of my purse and handed them to her.

  She took her time, carefully scanning over all my information and I began to feel uneasy. The metallic squeal of brakes drew my attention. A whiff of diesel exhaust drifted in through the open windows. It was soft at first, but then the air erupted with the sound of fifty conversations all going on at once. I tensed.

  "It's just the first bus, hon." Mrs. Hall explained, apparently noticing my reaction.

  "Right."

  "Well, you have a wonderful school record. I'm sure you're going to enjoy yourself here. We have some excellent teachers. We do things a little differently than you're accustomed to. We use a block schedule, dividing the school year into two halves with four classes in each half. The administration feels the longer class periods enhance the learning experience. I see here that you're enrolled in Latin and the Art Gifted and Talented program in the morning. Then after lunch, History and Software Apps." She stared at me for a moment, her eyes perhaps compassionate. "Yes," she finally said, "you'll do just fine." She grabbed two papers off her desk and unexpectedly stood.

  I instinctively recoiled.

  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

  "I'm just a little jumpy, first day and all." Behind me, the outer door opened and the hallway beyond the glass wall filled with the muffled sound of students.

  "Let's get you started then." Mrs. Hall handed me my schedule and then meticulously outlined each of my classes in red marker on a copy of the school floor plan. "Well, that's everything. Have any questions?"

  I shook my head.

  "I'm sure you'll do just fine. It's a small school compared to what you're used to."

  Right, what I was used to. I wasn't used to anything human, least of all a school full of them. Doubt began to erode my determination until it occurred to me that I'd been denied this human opportunity. Anger crept back in, heightening my senses, my reflexes—that was bad. I tried to calm myself by clenching, then relaxing my fists. I glanced up into Mrs. Hall's concerned face.

  "Don't worry about the other students. They'll come around. They're a nice bunch for the most part." />
  It was the 'for the most part' I was worried about. I forced a smile.

  "Have you met Cathy?"

  "No," I puzzled.

  "Well, maybe you two will hit it off. Make sure you get your teachers to sign your schedule, and bring it back to me at the end of the day." We both stood motionless for a moment. "Run along, hon. You don't want to be late."

  "Thanks." I glanced down at my schedule and compared it to the floor plan. My first class was Advisory, near the far end of the west hallway. I turned toward the door; and there beyond the glass, the hall was bustling with activity. I stepped toward the door and was immediately surprised by the lack of scent. Then I realized the students were on the other side of the glass, parading past like an endless school of guppies in an aquarium. I glanced back toward Mrs. Hall and her frown immediately turned into a forced smile.

  "Go on, hon. They won't bite."

  My smile was sincere, but not for the reason she thought. I turned toward the door again and this time caught a glimpse of black in the sea of summer colors. By the time I reached for the door knob, she was standing opposite me. Again I glanced back.

  Mrs. Hall silently mouthed the word "Cathy".

  I looked back at Cathy. It was like looking in a mirror. Oh sure, she was shorter and a little heavier, but she was wearing the same black jeans and deep purple, velour top.

  Okay, under normal circumstances this would be a total fashion nightmare, requiring one of us to immediately return home and change or we'd both be humiliated for the rest of the school year. But for me, it was validation. I'd done my homework, albeit maybe a little too well. I unconsciously reached up and raked my fingers through my hair and Cathy did the same. Okay, that was creepy.

  I turned the knob and cautiously pulled the door open, filling the room with the sound of chaos. Cathy didn't move. Suddenly I remembered what Tink had said and realized I wasn't blinking or breathing. I took a guarded, shallow breath and while the human scent was strong, it was muddled—nothing to isolate any one scent from another. I decided that was a good thing and tried to keep from instinctively isolating the most satisfying prey. Right—my eyes—I batted my long lashes.

  "Don't even think about it creep," one of the boys said in passing.

  "Leave her alone," Cathy said, glaring over her shoulder.

  "Jesus, there's two of them!" Another boy groaned. "What are we, an Emo magnet school?" He continued down the hall.

  Cathy turned back to face me, but continued to block the doorway.

  "You must be Cathy," I offered.

  She nodded.

  "I'm Izzy." My name seemed to amuse her. "Who do you have for Advisory?"

  Cathy snatched my schedule out of my hand and in doing so, her sleeve rode up. There were several scars, and a few more recent cuts that weren't completely healed. I stopped breathing. She shoved my schedule back in my hands. "I'm across the hall with Mr. Mathews." Her voice was flat, measured, void of any emotion.

  I risked a controlled breath so I could speak. "Mind if I walk with you?"

  She nodded, and then turned and started down the hall. I stepped into the hallway and turned to close the door—Mrs. Hall was staring, an empathetic sadness in her eyes—I closed the door and caught up with Cathy.

  We walked silently through the halls. As I'd hoped, the other kids gave us a wide berth and, for the most part, ignored us except for the occasional sarcastic remark. As we approached the end of the hall, Cathy suddenly stopped and pointed me to her left.

  "That my class?" I glanced down at my floor plan.

  Without a word, Cathy turned and went into the classroom to her immediate right.

  There weren't as many kids at this end of the hall so I resumed a normal human breathing rate. Suddenly the bell rang—I cringed—the volume deafening to my sensitive ears. Okay, this is it. I stepped into my Advisory class.

  The room was segregated; the boys gathered at the back of the classroom and the girls were near the windows at the front. To my left, a boy and girl were leaning up against the wall, making out.

  "Excuse me, dear," a definitely authoritative female voice said from behind me.

  "Sorry." I sidestepped in the direction of her nudge—she could never move me of her own accord.

  "Mr. Johnson, Miss Applegate, that'll be quite enough of that," she said as she stepped towards the teacher's desk.

  Everyone moved in unison toward their seats and my hope of sitting in the back of the class vanished—so much for inconspicuous. The only seat remaining was the one in front of me, right inside the doorway. Maybe that wasn't such a bad idea.

  The teacher was dressed in a plain red top with tan slacks and, like Mrs. Hall, could have quenched the thirst of even the most ravenous vampire—I had to stop thinking like that.

  "Do you intend to join us?" the teacher questioned with an edge of annoyance.

  I glanced up and realized she was speaking to me. "Sorry." I slid into the seat in front of me amid a flurry of giggles from the class.

  "Alright class, for the sake of our new student, I'm Mrs. Burns. Advisory isn't playtime," she scowled at the boys in the back, "so I won't put up with any tom foolery." She straightened up, grasped the hem of her blouse and snapped it taught. "We're here to discover who you really are."

  "Excellent," I let slip.

  Mrs. Burns' harsh glance seemed to have an edge of pleasant surprise. "Now then class, I'm going to call roll. If you prefer a nickname, let me know."

  I'd hoped to be in the back so I could see who was who as she called roll. I didn't want to turn around—I could already feel the prying eyes examining me—so I did the best I could to memorize where each response came from. It wouldn't be a problem to connect name and face later.

  "Izzy Faulkner." Mrs. Burns looked at me over her frameless reading glasses. "Is Izzy a nickname?"

  "My name." I replied. It was really the only name I had, just Izzy. Elizabeth added Faulkner—the surname of the coven—since the school papers required a last name. Four seats back a boy grunted.

  Mrs. Burns' attention was immediately drawn to him. "Do we have a problem, Mr. Johnson?"

  "No, Mrs. Burns," was his mechanical response.

  "Let's refrain from quick judgments." She continued. "I believe you owe Miss Faulkner an apology."

  "Sorry Izzzzzzy," he replied hanging on to the 'Z' longer than necessary.

  I was the only one that could hear the faint snickers from the other students.

  "Alright class," Mrs. Burns said, returning her attention to the rest of the class, "we're going to meet once a week this year, for just half an hour, so I won't be able to spend a lot of individual time with you in class. Remember though, I'm always available after school." She went back to her desk, grabbed a stack of papers and started handing them to the first person in each row.

  I wasn't exactly sure what to do with them, but followed the others and handed them back. The girl behind me, Lisa Meyers by my recollection, was blonde with entirely too much makeup that ended in a harsh orange line at her jaw line. Her mascara looked like it had been applied with a paintbrush. She sneered as I turned to hand her the stack of papers, yanking them out of my hand with an annoyed exhale that puffed her bangs. I turned back towards the front and hid my face behind the handout.

  As Mrs. Burns went over the paper, I re-evaluated. It seemed as long as the human scent remained nondescript, a muddled, confused mixture of male, female and individual scents, I was completely able to control myself. "But that's not right."

  "Excuse me?" Mrs. Burns snapped.

  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt." Whoops, didn't mean to do that. Seriously though, it wasn't right. The human scent was supposed to build, one on the other until it was irresistible. The whole concern over me starting school was based on the fact that I would be in close contact with so many humans, that it would be impossible to control my thirst. The bell jolted me back to reality.