Эллен Шрайбер - Vampire Kisses

“Yeah, and Trevor Mitchell spotted him coming out of the cemetery at night and said he had blood dripping from his mouth. And when Trevor drove closer, he suddenly disappeared!"

"Really? Hey, you're hanging out with Trevor again?"

"No way! Everyone knows he's in love with that Raven girl. But get this. I saw that ghost guy at the movies last Friday. Alone. Who goes to a movie by himself?"

"Only a loony loser crazy person," Josie said.

"Exactly!"

I rolled my eyes in total disgust.

Then after dinner I was at the 7-Eleven with Becky, picking up soda for my mom, when I noticed a tabloid headline that read, "I Gave Birth to a Two-Headed Vampire Baby."

"Well, it must be true then!" I joked. "Vampires do exist. I read it in the National Liar?”

Becky and I giggled like little girls.

I turned around and there was Gothic Guy standing right in back of me, staring at the candy bars below the counter.

He was wearing Ray Bans, like a ghostly rock star, and was holding a pack of candles.

"Aren't you the guy—" I whispered breathlessly, as if I had spotted a celebrity.

"Next," the clerk said, summoning him to the counter.

He didn't even notice me. I followed him closely but was edged out by a red-haired fitness queen and her tanning bed-addicted friend buying celebrity mags and bottles of imported water.

Gothic Guy took his bag and left the store, lifting his sunglasses as soon as he stepped into the dusk.

The two women leered at him like they had just seen a walking zombie.

"That reminds me, Phyllis," the fitness queen whispered. "I saw that kid at Carlson's Book Store. He's so pale! Hasn't he ever heard of the sun? At least he could use some fake tanning cream. He needs a makeover bad!"

"Did you notice what he was reading?"

"Oh, yes," she recalled. "It was a book on Benson Hill Cemetery!"

"I'll have to tell Natalie Mitchell. She's convinced they're vampires!"

"Maybe we'll see the Sterlings in the tabloids next week: 'Vampire Teen Plays Baseball with Real Bats.'" And they giggled like me and Becky had before. "Hurry!" I said, impatiently. By the time Becky and I raced into the parking lot he was gone.

The gossip continued at our dinner table.

"John Garver at the courthouse told me that the Sterlings didn't buy the Mansion, but they inherited it," my dad said.

"Jimmy Fields said he heard they don't eat real food, but bugs and twigs," Nerd Boy added, like only a nerd would.

"What's the matter with you guys?" I shouted. "They're just different—they aren't breaking any laws!"

"I'm sure they aren't, Raven," my mom agreed. "But at the very least, they are strange. Their clothes are bizarre."

They all looked at me—at my black lipstick, black nail polish, blackened hair, black spandex dress, and clunky black plastic bracelets.

"Well, I dress bizarre, too. Do you think I'm strange?"

"Yes," they said in unison.

We all had a good laugh at that one, even me. But deep down, I felt sad because I knew they really weren't kidding, and I could tell they felt sad, too, for the very same reason.

The sun had fallen from the sky and the moon was smiling over Becky and me. I was ready for the infiltration in camouflage night gear. I was wearing matte black lipstick instead of gloss, black turtleneck, black jeans, and a tiny black backpack with a flashlight and disposable camera. Mr. and Mrs. Sterling were in Europe. Their Mercedes was not in sight. Creepy Man must have gone to the store, and if he pushed his shopping cart as slowly as he drove, I'd have plenty of time.

The rusty iron gate stood in front of me. All the answers to the rumors lay on the other side. A quick climb over and the investigation would begin.

Unfortunately the adventure was going to be delayed, because Becky was terrified about climbing.

"You didn't tell me we'd have to climb the gate! I'm afraid of heights!"

"Please! Just get over. The clock is ticking."

Becky looked at the harmless old gate like it was Mt. Everest. "I can't. It's way too tall!"

"You can," I argued. "Here." I put my hands together for a boost. "You'll have to put your whole body weight into this!"

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't. Let's go."

"Are you sure?"

"Becky! I've waited months for this, and if you spoil it because you were afraid to step into my hand, I'll have to kill you."

She stepped and I grunted, and suddenly she was suctioned to the gate like a terrified spider.

"You can't just hang. You have to climb!"

She tried. She really did. I could see every muscle in her body strain. She wasn't heavy, but she wasn't strong either.

"Pretend you'll go to jail if you don't climb up."

"I'm trying!"

"Go, Becky, go!" I chanted like a cheerleader. She climbed slowly and finally reached the spiked top. Then she really freaked out.

"I can't go over. I'm scared."

"Don't look down."

"I can't move!"

I was starting to panic myself. She could have spoiled everything right then. A cop could have come by or some nosey neighbor. Or Gothic Guy himself might have come down from his attic to see what was making more noise than his blaring Cure CD.

"Here, I'll go." I pulled myself up the gate, maneuvered around Becky and flipped over the top. "Now you!" I whispered as I hung on the other side.

She didn't move. Her eyes weren't even open.

"I think I'm having a panic attack."

"Great!" I said, rolling my eyes. "You can't do this!" Maybe I should have brought Nerd Boy. "Becky?"

"I can't!"

"All right, all right! Slide down."

We both slithered down the iron gate on opposite sides. The iron bars separated us, but not our friendship.

"I hope I didn't spoil everything," Becky said.

"Hey, at least you gave me a ride."

She smiled appreciatively. "I'll keep an eye out here."

"No, go on home. Someone may see you."

"Are you sure?"

"It was fun hanging around with you," I joked. "But I gotta go now!"

"I hope you find everything you're looking for."

Becky drove off to the safety of her plaid couch and I continued on, minus one detective. I was the RBI—Raven Bureau of Investigation. I had to put an end to these rumors. And if they were more than just rumors, the world had to know.

The only light came from the curtained attic window. I could hear the faint wailing of an electric guitar, as I tiptoed around the side of the house. Fortunately, I didn't hear the sound of barking dogs. I found my favorite window. There were no boards or bricks, and the broken window had been replaced. If they fixed one thing in this Mansion, why did it have to be this particular window? I scrambled around and checked the other windows. They were all locked. Suddenly I noticed something catching the moonlight. I crouched over and lying by a bush was a hammer, and next to the hammer was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. It was a window, propped open with a brick. A caulking gun and putty were still sitting on the ledge. Someone had been working here and left their mess to dry. I kissed my new friend—the helpful brick—with my hand. Thank you, brick, thank you!

It was a much tighter squeeze through the window this time. I'd eaten a lot of candy since I was twelve.

I sucked in and pushed and pulled and grunted and heaved. I was through. I was in! I high-fived the air, the dark musty dusty basement air that filled the Mansion dungeon.

My flashlight guided me around crates and old furniture. I saw three rectangular objects leaning against the wall, covered with blankets. Paintings? My flesh tingled with anticipation as I grabbed the corner of the blanket and slowly pulled it back. I gasped. A face with two frozen eyes stared back at me. It was a mirror!

I clutched my racing heart. A covered mirror? I pulled the blankets off one after the other. They were all mirrors! Gold framed, wood framed, rectangular and oval. It couldn't be! Who covers their mirrors? Only vampires!