My dad pulled me off my brother by my woven belt, and I grabbed the paper from his hand.
I took off for my room, locked the door behind me, and hopped onto my bed. I spread out the paper and carefully tried to smooth the wrinkles.
Staring back at me on the front page of the Arts section was my boyfriend, with the caption “An Artist
Amongst Us.”
“He is so handsome!” I cheered.
OUR TOWN’S BEST-KEPT SECRET. A budding young artist, hiding out on Benson Hill.
I’d always heard ghost stories about the Mansion on Benson Hill, but I didn’t see any spirits wandering through the halls. I was invited into an old-fashioned estate with a reclusive teen. Homeschooled his whole life, Alexander spends his days and nights painting.
“What is his inspiration?” I asked him.
“A girl named Raven,” he replied.
Though I only saw the first floor, the rest of the Mansion appeared the same. He claims to sleep in a coffin and have a wine cellar straight from Transylvania. This artist might as well be a writer, too. But this interviewer wasn’t fooled. The only thing he was really hiding was his talent. Though Alexander Sterling may be able to spin a yarn, he is also able to paint.
There is more to this artist than could ever be told. It has to be seen. All you need to do is take a look at one of his paintings. You can see how he loves this town and the people who inhabit it.
“Do you want to be famous? Like Picasso, Dalí—Monet?” I asked him.
“No,” he said. “I just want to be like—me.”
I riffled through my desk and found some tape. I placed my boyfriend’s article right over my headboard.
Even wrinkled, Alexander Sterling was still the most gorgeous guy I’d ever seen.
14
Mortal Kisses
I wasn’t the only one who read the article on Alexander. In a town the size of Dullsville, small as a Shrinky
Dink, any news was news. No one wanted to be left out from any new information or, worse, be the last one to know.
A group of cheerleaders was stretching out in the hallway while I waited for Becky outside the restroom. I was exhausted as usual.
“Did you see the picture of that Mansion guy?” the captain asked.
“He’s totally hot,” her assistant said, fixing her headband.
“He’s really funny,” another said.
“Did you see how he was ribbing the reporter? He must be really confident to do that.”
“And talented. My parents bought one of his pictures at the Art Auction a few months ago,” the captain boasted.
“Hot, talented, and funny.”
“How did she ever land him?” her assistant said.
They all glared at me. Just then I received a text.
Funny article.
Picture of a vampire?
Impossible.
It was pitch-black when I went to Becky’s house to meet her. Her parents weren’t home and her house was unlocked. I called her name throughout each room, but she didn’t answer. I knew she was afraid to go to the barn alone, but perhaps she needed to replace the rake. I found the flashlight resting on the back-porch railing.
“Becky? Where are you?”
When I finally reached the barn, the metal door was ajar.
“Becky? Are you in there?”
I heard some whispering voices and a giggle.
“Becky? Is that you? Are you okay?”
I shined the light on a few bales of hay. On an empty ladder. Then the tractor. It caught Becky, who quickly covered her face.
“Becky, what are you doing in here? You hate the dark.”
Her hair was messy and she bore a menacing smirk on her face. I helped her up when I noticed two fresh wounds on her neck.
“No! What has Sebastian done to you?”
“What are you and Alexander waiting for?”
“No—Becky! What about Matt?”
“He’s not a vampire!”
Just then I heard a beeping sound. I awoke to find Mrs. Hathaway and a classroom full of students staring at me.
“Miss Madison,” she said with a stern voice. “Is that a cell phone I heard?”
“No—it was my alarm clock.”
The class laughed.
“I have the authority to confiscate anything that is electronic, other than a calculator—which, I might add, you don’t need in history class.”
Mrs. Hathaway returned to her lesson, and I quickly checked my message.
Let’s make history together.
I glanced up and saw Trevor peering back at me.
I shook off my dream, and Mrs. Hathaway stepped out of class.
“What are you doing this weekend,” Becky asked, “besides sleeping?”
Alexander’s party was fast approaching. I didn’t have much time to decorate. I only had one day to gather some gothic and groovy items. I’d been so distracted with keeping Sebastian away from Becky that I hadn’t had much time to be excited about Onyx and Scarlet’s arrival or figure out something to wear.
“Uh…not sure,” I finally answered.
“Why don’t we all get together?”
“I think Alexander has plans,” I said truthfully.
“Doing what?”
“I’m not sure. I just think I heard him say he was doing something. Nothing big—just hanging in.”
“We can stay in, too…unless you don’t want us over.”
“Oh…it’s not that. I just hate for you to cancel something dreamy like a movie night when all we are doing is hanging out playing video games.”
“Matt loves gaming. Besides, he’s never been inside the Mansion. And I haven’t either, for that matter. We were only outside for Alexander’s ‘Welcome to the Neighborhood’ party.”
“How about I get back to you?”
I waited for Becky’s response.
“Okay. Text me when you know,” she finally said.
I felt awful keeping Becky in the dark about Alexander’s party. She was my best friend—I included her in everything. For that matter, she was the only one I’d ever included. If it wasn’t for Becky, I’d have been totally alone all of my life. This was the thanks she got—being excluded from an intimate gathering hosted at the
Mansion. But I had to remind myself of the reason I was having the party in the first place—to keep her safe and mortal.
I was really shaken by my dream. Imagining Becky as a vampire—and how much she enjoyed it—jolted me.
I liked my best friend just the way she was.
But the dream felt so real. The fact that my best friend became a vampire before I became one haunted me. I was struck—by jealousy. No one in this town wanted to be a vampire more than I did. Not Becky, or a
Pradabee, or an unsuspecting soccer snob. If anyone was going to be bitten in this town, it was going to be me.
When the final bell rang, marking my freedom from the doldrums of Dullsville High, I met Becky at our lockers. “Do you mind dropping me off at Annie’s Antiques?” I asked.
“I’ll go, too,” she said as she loaded her books in her backpack and I unloaded mine into my locker. “I have nothing to do this afternoon.”
I was planning on buying goodies for the party. How could I do that in front of her?
“Are you sure?” I asked. “You know how I can dawdle forever. I don’t want you to miss doing your homework.”
“I’ve already finished it during study hall,” she said proudly.
“Then why are you taking home all your books?”
“The real question is why didn’t you take any of yours?”
Becky was as good a student as she was a friend.
“I have things on my mind,” I said. “I planned on doing my homework in the morning.”
She shook her head, as my mother had done a thousand times.
We exited the building, got into her truck, and drove the few miles to Annie’s.