new moan

THE FIRST BOOK IN

THE TWISHITE SAGA

A PARODY

STEPHFORDY MAYO

Michael O’Mara Books Limited

First published in Great Britain in 2009 by

Michael O’Mara Books Limited

9 Lion Yard

Tremadoc Road

London SW4 7NQ

This electronic edition published 2010

ISBN 978-1-84317-496-7 in EPub format

ISBN 978-1-84317-497-4 in Mobipocket format

Copyright © Stephfordy Mayo 2009

The right of Stephfordy Mayo to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise),without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

This book is not endorsed by nor officially associated with Stephenie Meyer and the Twilight series.

Designed and typeset by K DESIGN, Somerset

Cover design by Joanna Wood

Cover image: Getty Images

www.mombooks.com

Preface

Chapter 1 – moist

Chapter 2 – the first time

Chapter 3 – a little death

Chapter 4 – teddy revealed

Chapter 5 – getting some action

Chapter 6 – coming clean

Chapter 7 – The Big Chump

Chapter 8 – going deeper

Chapter 9 – eating out

Chapter 10 – taken

Chapter 11 – withdrawal

Chapter 12 – doing it werewolf style

Chapter 13 – ruff and tumble

Chapter 14 – The Diary of Young Teddy, Aged 30 2⁄3

Chapter 15 – going all the way (to romania)

Chapter 16 – just a little prick

Chapter 17 – climax

Chapter 18 – afterglow

preface

Not to be melodramatic, but I was totally about to die. How had I ended up like this, lying on my back, gasping for breath, while a shadowy figure loomed over me?

It’s true what they say – your life does flash before your eyes in your final moments. Before moving to Spatula, I hadn’t had much of a life, but that had all changed in the last few months. Now, it seemed like there were almost too many exciting incidents for an ordinary teenage girl to have lived through. Stephfordy Mayo had made me a total trouble-magnet.

The memories blurred together as my oxygen-starved brain flitted crazily from one recollection to the next. So one minute I was enjoying my lunch in the school cafeteria, the next I found myself tied to a chair. A ghastly cacophony of sound tortured my soul, and beneath it rang the cackle of the monster who wanted to kill me. Another jump, and I was sitting on the edge of a bed, my beloved’s hand inching up my thigh …

No time to enjoy it, though, for my memories hurled me ever onwards: a gang of zombies shuffling through the woods, intent on eating my brains; an English class in which we were studying Shakespeare (again); a man transforming into a wolf; a crowd of spotty, lust-fuelled teens pulling at my clothes … And always, always there was the figure of Teddy Kelledy – my love, my soulmate, my stiff angel—

‘Heffa Lump!’

‘What?’ I murmured, still lost in the visions passing before my eyes.

‘Stop holding your breath; you’re about to pass out.’

I lifted the plastic bag off my head and inhaled reluctantly. ‘But I was just about to get to the bit where you had your shirt off! And anyway, if I don’t start with a flashback, how will the readers know there’s all this exciting stuff to come? There are loads of chapters which are basically just you and me talking about our favorite colors and stuff, it’s only fair to reassure people that there’s going to be some action, too.’

Teddy placed a frigid, calming hand on mine. ‘If this is going to make any sense, I think you should just start at the beginning. Besides, Heffa, ours is a love story for the ages; how could it fail to enrapture, enchant and …’

‘Engorge?’ I suggested.

Teddy looked stern. He could be so unbending, though this was usually a feature I enjoyed rather a lot. He was probably right, though. He usually was, being the most perfectest creature that ever stalked the earth. I closed my eyes again, and went back to the day it had all begun …

chapter 1

moist

I grew up in Sunnytown, Nevada. It never rains there. Ever. There’s glorious sunshine 365 days of the year. In a somewhat pointed contrast, the town of Spatula in an unidentifiable northern state was the exact opposite; it never did anything but rain. I could understand why my mom had been so keen to leave. When I got to the age of six and realized that the world did in fact revolve around me, I’d made my father visit me in Sunnytown rather than suffer the indignities of a place where the sun didn’t shine. But now everything was about to change.

‘Are you sure about this, Heffa?’ my mother asked as she hugged me goodbye at Sunnytown Airport. ‘You know you can stay with me and Hunk the (Minor League) Football Player. We’ve got a spare room for you, and I don’t have to travel that much.’

‘Mom, how many times do I have to tell you? I’m just too noble and self-sacrificing to stay, so deal with it. God.’

‘Okay, honey,’ my mom said. She was my closest friend – almost a sister – but it was tiresome how often I had to remind her what was best for her. I was leaving her now because she had a man in her life to look after her. Hunk the (Minor League) Football Player would hold her hand crossing the road from now on. I was going to live with my father, Chump – the only parent left who would be able to give me the undivided attention my fragile soul required.

Mom hugged me again. ‘If you ever need me, I’m right on the other end of the phone.’

‘Yeah, whatever. You don’t have to be so clingy.’ I didn’t look back as I boarded the plane: the thought of seeing my mom all weepy and pathetic was too much to bear.

Chump met me at Port D’Angerous Airport. Unlike my mother, he was a man of few lines of dialog. He greeted me with one of his favorites: ‘Hey, Heff, how’s it going?’

‘How do you think?’ I scowled, climbing into the cab of his 4x4. ‘My mom’s shacked up with a steroid addict, my life’s going nowhere fast, and I’ve been forced to come and live in the gosh-darn middle of nowhere with you. I’m not bitter or anything, but for the record, I didn’t ask to be born.’

My father likes to call himself a private detective, but I didn’t let this fool me into thinking anything dramatic would happen. I blamed his choice of career on too many Humphrey Bogart movies. He even had a fedora. But Spatula was far too dull to attract criminals, and all he ever seemed to do was track down missing cats.

‘Well, things here are just as quiet as ever!’ Chump said cheerily.

I said nothing; simply stared out of the window as we drove towards the town. Spatula is surrounded by forest – great redwoods whose rigid trunks thrust into the air. They penetrate the sky so thickly no light gets through at all, rain running down their sides in moist, musty dribbles that—

Chump touched my arm, and I jumped. I was sure I’d been on the edge of a really adult thought before he interrupted me.

‘What do you want?’ I asked, glowering at him lovingly.

‘I was just saying, things here are as dull as ditchwater!’ he said, though it was quite hard to hear over the sirens as three police cars sped past, followed by an ambulance and a fire truck. In the distance, I could see smoke clouds rising. ‘No excitement here in Spatula. I guess you’ll find it kind of boring.’

‘Tell me something I don’t know,’ I said, and rolled my eyes in a sophisticated manner. ‘Why aren’t you driving? The lights are green.’

‘Oh, uh, just thought I should wait while the ambulance gets that man off the road,’ Chump said. ‘Looks like there might have been some sort of accident, I’m sure it’s not a big deal.’

I peered up ahead – the EMTs were stretchering off some guy dripping blood on the asphalt, while the cops wrestled the screaming girl with the knife to the ground. Honestly, were we going to have to wait here all day?

‘Just another quiet day in good ol’ Spatula,’ Chump grinned as he swerved carefully around the broken glass. I sighed. He was right. This place was dead.

At the stop sign by the supermarket, a crowd of teenagers were hanging around on the street corner. They were a sorry bunch, all dressed in black, with lank, unwashed hair and morose expressions. I gazed at them with sympathetic pity. One of them saw me looking and tugged at his friend’s arm – in seconds, the whole lot of them were staring at me, white-faced, though I couldn’t tell whether that was shock, awe, or make-up.

‘Dad, have you been telling everyone who I am again?’ I groaned. He just couldn’t help boasting about his amazing daughter, which did make it hard to fit in.

‘Why would I do that, sweetie?’ he muttered. He was scowling at the unfortunate teenagers like they’d really upset him. I understood, though: he was so protective of me.

Chump still lived in the exact same, mediocre, two-storey dump he’d had when my mother left him, after she’d finally realized that he was never going to become a real noir detective. I supposed there were worse backstories – at least I came from a broken home – but I didn’t see much scope for any really intriguing secrets. My parents were so selfish. Would it have been too much for them to give me up for adoption? Orphans got all the best character arcs.

We pulled up in the driveway. ‘I want to show you something, Heffa,’ Chump said. He looked very pleased with himself. ‘Close your eyes …’

I closed my eyes. ‘Is it a car? Because I need a car. You bought me a car, right?’

‘And … open.’

I looked. ‘You bought me a bus stop,’ I said, staring up at it.

‘I got the city council to add us to the route!’ Chump was so proud. ‘Now you won’t have any trouble getting to school.’

‘Uh, thanks, Dad,’ I said, walking into the house. Obviously I couldn’t ride the bus to school. I’d just have to take his car when I needed it.

Chump followed me inside and put my bags down in the hall.

‘Right then, I’m going to watch the game,’ he said. With that, he went into the living room, turned on the television and conveniently disappeared from the page, leaving me to explore at leisure.

I went upstairs. My room was far too small. Where was the library of long, complex novels that demonstrated my cleverness going to go? My eclectic and unusual CD collection? The knick-knacks and wall hangings that illustrated my sensitive, bohemian side? My ego? It was no good. I’d have to get Chump to knock down the wall so I could have his room as well. He could sleep on the sofa; it seemed only fair after all I’d given up in moving here.

Still, I’d talk to him about that later. It was time to focus on a far more pressing matter – staring at myself in the mirror so I could describe what I looked like.

Not that I looked like anything special. Despite living in Sunnytown’s unceasing sunshine, I’d spent my days inside, or dashing from one patch of shade to another. I couldn’t risk ruining my pale and interesting skin, which so successfully set off my dark hair and eyes like deep, mysterious pools of midnight shadow.

I sighed and turned away. There was no disguising it; I wasn’t pretty. Even though I was.

Hopeful that doing some useful chores would lighten my mood, I unpacked my rucksack. At the bottom, I came across the little picture book that meant so much to me; the book that was, in fact, the main reason for my presence here in Spatula.

I flicked through its pages. The little girl who starred in every illustration had black braids, and she was beaming. Around her, crowds of multicolored animals and animated cakes danced. Underneath the pictures, the words spread out in an exuberant scrawl:

I want candy! I want cake!

I want picnics by the lake!

Foxes in boxes with bright yellow sockses

And mermaids on rockses

And a chocolate milkshake!

The picture book Heffa Gets What She Wants had sold a million copies in a year. Its follow-up, Heffa Makes Further Demands, was even more popular. There’d been a cartoon, themed lunchboxes, T-shirts … for a while, the whole world had known my name.

But things change. No one wanted to read Heffa Lump Goes to High School. These days, I was just another teenage girl, average and dull, but for one shining moment I’d been a star. I wanted that back. I deserved to have that back. And I was here to make it happen.

For Spatula, besides being home to my father, acres of woodland and about a hundred inches of rain, was the location of the Spatula Academy of Fictional Excellence. The Academy specialized in helping child stars expand their range. They were the best. They’d advised Drew Barrymore, turned Little Women into Good Wives, and managed to get Alice, Wendy and Dorothy into an Alan Moore comic. I knew they’d be able to get me what I wanted – a starring role in adult fiction, or, at the very least, a main part in some sort of hybrid teen novel that had massive crossover appeal.

I was excited to be studying at the Academy, but I knew that the other students were sure to hate me, just like in Sunnytown. They said it was because I ignored them or occasionally maimed them, but I knew better. My clumsiness and aloofness had nothing to do with it.

The simple truth was that I didn’t fit in with any group – and never would. No one understood me. I was a special, unique snowflake, with interests beyond the mundane, everyday dramas that preoccupied the people I was forced to spend my days with. I was destined for higher things – maybe even the Pulitzer one day. It was a good job I was so humble about it! I bore my solitude nobly, though I did wonder if I would ever find someone who could see beyond my unexciting exterior to the brilliance within. Perhaps Spatula would be different—

‘Hey, Heffa, your mom wants to talk to you.’ Chump stood in the doorway, holding out the phone.

I took the communication device – Stephfordy’s writing book says you shouldn’t repeat words even when using a different one is really stilted – and cheerily snapped, ‘What do you want now? Can’t you tell I’m in the middle of some deeply significant character-building wallowing?’

‘I just wanted to see how your flight was. You know you didn’t have to move so far away. Choose Your Own Adventure High is right here in Sunnytown and I’m sure they’d have let you transfer in, they’re pretty relaxed about last-minute decisions …’

‘How many times do I have to tell you?’ I yelled at her. ‘My career is the most important thing to me right now. I have to pursue it. It’s a sacrifice, but I have to do it. The world needs me. The world needs my art.’

No one but losers went to Choose Your Own Adventure. They had, like, a ninety-per-cent non-completion rate.

‘Okay, Heffa, if being in Spatula is what will make you happy, then I think it’s just great.’

‘Mom,’ I groaned, ‘you’re my best friend, and that’s an achievement to be proud of, but can’t you leave me alone for five minutes? I can’t breathe for all this love and kindness. It’s swamping me. I’ll send you a one-line email telling you to get off my back in three chapters’ time, okay?’

I hurled the phone at the wall and threw myself onto the bed. It was time for a good cry. It might have been my decision to move, but I could still get in a snit about it.

I wailed my pain and rage into the night, and the wind rattled back in overwritten and metaphoric sympathy with my despair. No one had ever suffered like this before. I mean, obviously every teenager everywhere had suffered pretty much exactly like this before, but I was still the only one. If I was the sort of narrator who wrote poetry about my pain – which I totally wasn’t, I was far too mature – it would have looked something like this:

Rain

Outside my window

Rain

Inside my heart

Gloom

And despair

Surround me

Dripping raindrops

Like some rain.

Having eloquently and beautifully captured the heartache of being seventeen, I drifted off to sleep.

chapter 2

the first time

I woke next morning with a mixture of trepidation, resignation, and sublimation. Spatula was waiting for me in all its dreary, damp, sketchily described glory. I drew back the curtain and was amazed by the unexpected view that confronted me. A beautiful golden beach stretched away towards the horizon, fringed on one side by lush palm trees and on the other by the bluest, clearest sea I’d ever seen.

I allowed myself to feel a momentary flicker of hope – until I noticed the words ‘Welcome to Cancun’ hovering in the perfect sky. I angrily tore the poster off my window and crushed it into a ball, cursing Chump’s sense of humor under my breath. Didn’t he know how sensitive I was, and how humorless? This kind of practical joke could be literally fatal to someone as pale and serious as me.

Still, I guessed he was just trying to ‘male bond’ with me or something that I didn’t have the right chromosomes to understand, and so I resolved to let it go, utilizing the superhuman powers of forgiveness I had always prided myself on. Spatula would be good for me – I’d only been here a day, and already I could feel my emotions becoming more nuanced.

The actual view from my window was far less Mexican. The rain rained down in a really rainy and wet way (I would have to get better at describing rain; there was probably going to be a test on it, given it was the main weather Spatula had), and the trees that surrounded the house were dripping with moisture. Their mighty trunks probed skyward and vines climbed the thick girth of those trunks like veins, pulsing with life as globs of milky cloud scudded overhead. Something about that imagery intrigued me, but I couldn’t think what.

Downstairs in the kitchen, Chump was sitting at the table, frowning at the local paper. He was sucking on something, but stopped when he heard me come in, and hurriedly folded the newspaper so I couldn’t finish reading the headline – something had been found drained of something else, apparently.

‘Hey, Heff, how’s Mexico?’

I ignored this attempt at a friendly remark, hoping that my silent scowl would help Chump realize that there was no chance of his folksy sense of humor having any impact on my deeply subtle and complex psyche. He held his belt in his hands, and I noticed that one end was covered in drool.

‘Chump, are you chewing your belt?’

‘Oh, yeah, yup, ha ha. Just having a bit of breakfast before I head on out to work.’

‘For shoot’s sake, Dad, that’s what you call breakfast?’ I sneered caringly.

‘Well, Heff, it’s not what I’d generally prefer, but I’ve been a bit of a mess since your mom walked out on me fifteen years ago, and I haven’t really gotten around to getting any groceries in.’

‘You poor contemptible soul, that’s pathetic. But don’t worry, I’ll go to the supermarket after school and buy some food. I really like to cook. I used to do it lots for Mom, who’s almost as useless as you, and it means I can practice describing all the different dishes. That always makes narratives seem less repetitive – and you can use them as metaphors, too.’

I could see that my explanation went right over Chump’s head, but he smiled with pleasure at the idea of a proper home-cooked meal.

‘Well?’ I demanded.

‘What’s that, honey?’

‘I need money, Chump, these groceries aren’t going to pay for themselves. Honestly, you’re so thoughtless and self-obsessed.’

‘Sure thing, darling, here you go.’ He handed me a wad of bills.

‘And?’ He looked confused. ‘Car keys?’ He passed them to me, and I marched towards the door.

‘Bye, Chump, I don’t want to be late for school on my first day.’

As the front door slammed shut behind me, I heard my father call plaintively after me: ‘Hey, Heff, how am I meant to get to work?’

I waved away his trivial concerns, dashed through the rain to the car and turned the key in the ignition. The engine roared smugly to life, and I set off.

As I drove through the rain, I wondered what the Academy would be like. I was pretty sure that the kids wouldn’t know what to make of me at all, and that, just like at my previous schools, I’d end up being the outsider. Which I totally hated, even though it sort of proved how unique I was under the ordinary exterior I presented to the world. But at least at the Academy the staff were sure to recognize and nurture my potential – unlike my old tutors, who just told me to go away, they were getting a headache. Those useless excuses for teachers wouldn’t know literary genius if it wrote a three-page unpunctuated sentence.

I came to a crossroads and studied the sign. The road straight ahead was marked ‘Supermarket and Diner (movie only)’, the right fork ‘School’ and the left ‘All Other Destinations’. Spatula was a small town all right, but at least I wasn’t likely to get lost.

I took School Road. It was covered with a vague mist, which prevented me from seeing any buildings not directly relevant to the plot, but one odd thing did occur. A couple of miles from the house, a lone kid was waiting on the sidewalk. I just had time to notice his green hair, ripped jeans and the safety pin through his nose when he launched something at me with a cry of ‘YEEAAHH!’

I ducked. The guitar hit the side of the car and shattered in a mess of strings, wood and discordant noise. The kid looked weirdly angry. It was all very confusing. He was a punk, though – they didn’t usually have much sense, fashion or otherwise. I could only assume he’d wanted to give me the instrument as a present, and was upset to see it broken. It seemed a little strange, but Chump had clearly been letting people know I was coming to Spatula, and I was undoubtedly the most exciting thing to happen to the town in a while.

I waved happily at my new fan. He stuck two fingers up in response; wishing me victory at school, I supposed. How nice! I was still smiling about it when I pulled into the Academy’s parking lot.

The Academy was even larger than I had expected. In front of me, a courtyard stretched out. It was covered in grass, and in a far corner four children and a dog were excitedly looking over a map of some sort. I faintly heard one of them exclaim, ‘So that’s where Kim Jong-il’s warheads must be’ when my attention was caught by an explosion far overhead.

To my right, a wizard’s tower stretched into the clouds, with odd sparkles emanating from the windows. I’d heard Spatula Academy offered a fantasy syllabus, but not paid much attention; everyone knew only characters who never quite grew up settled for genre work. On the left, a girl was standing in front of what looked like a mall: she flicked her hair, and said, ‘So, like, Johnny said, like, that he was totally, like, going to ask me to dance with him … How was that, Ms Ephron?’

A stern woman in a Dolce & Gabbana outfit with a clipboard sighed and wrote something down. ‘Better, Baby, but you’re still overusing the words “totally” and “like”. If you want to pass “Romantic Drama for Beginners”, you’re going to have to work on sounding less like a teenager. You’re talking yourself into a corner. Let’s try it again, shall we?’

Right by the entrance, a noticeboard announced extra-merit classes. There was a sign-up sheet for the ‘Eat Me/ Drink Me’ tutorial in advanced psychedelic writing; and another one, for a stream-of-consciousness seminar, that went into such detail about what the course involved that it didn’t leave any space for anyone to put their names down. I could feel the creativity in the air, and knew that I was going to like it here. And they were sure to love me.

My first task was to register with the office, which I could see on the far side of the courtyard. The other students were drifting in groups towards the main school building, and as I ran across the lot, waving my arms and shouting, ‘I’m Heffa Lump, look at me!’ I could feel them deliberately not paying me any attention.

Typical, I thought, I’ve only been here thirty seconds and they’ve already failed to spot my hidden depths. Teenagers are so unperceptive.

I sighed in resignation as I entered the office. Inside, a hideously old woman sat at a desk, filing papers. Her wizened form revolted me, but I smiled sweetly at her as though nothing was the matter, sure that the senile crone wouldn’t notice this brilliant deception.

‘Hi, I’m Heffa Lump, the new student, star of Heffa Gets What She Wants. You’ve probably been dying to meet me,’ I announced.

‘Hello, dearie. Yes, we’ve all been looking forward to you joining us – after all, Spatula is such a sleepy place, it’s not like we’ve got anything better to do other than speculate about what you might be like.’

She added, ‘Here’s a map of the school, which you might have trouble finding your way around – there are some rabbit holes here and there, you’ll want to avoid them. And here’s your timetable.’

I looked at the documents as she passed them to me. ‘Excuse me, this timetable has English and Gym every morning. Don’t we have any other regular classes?’

Her disgusting face twisted into an indignant expression. ‘Well, I don’t know how you did things back in fancy old Sunnytown, but here at the Academy we keep things simple. Students have English and Gym every morning, and a varied timetable of relevant classes in the afternoon – “Exposition”, “Capturing the Zeitgeist”, things like that.’

It was my turn to be indignant. ‘But what about learning Chemistry, or French, or – goodness – even Geography? Aren’t we here to become more well rounded?’

‘English and Gym. That’s it. Look, do you know how difficult it is to write about being at school convincingly? It’s been years since Stephfordy graduated, so it’ll save us all a lot of time and effort if we just stick to two real subjects and then the made-up ones, okay? Who wants to learn French anyway? What are the chances of meeting someone French in Spatula?’

‘Well, okay, but it’s not very credible. I’m just saying.’

‘Hush up now and run along. You’ll be late for your meeting with the Principal.’

And, with that, I was shooed out of the door. I studied the map I had been given. The Principal’s Office was clearly marked on the other side of the main building. I was surprised to see it was a cottage, with honeysuckle climbing the walls and roses in the garden. As I reached the door, the Principal appeared, ushering out a small yellow bear in a red shirt.

‘I can’t believe you failed me again!’ the bear squeaked, and pushed past me without a word.

The Principal sighed. ‘He tries,’ she said, ‘but he’s really none too bright.’ She pushed one red braid back over her shoulder and smiled at me. ‘I’m Miss Shirley,’ she said, ‘and you must be Heffa Lump. Welcome to the Spatula Academy. How are you finding it so far?’

‘My room is tiny, and my father expects me to come to school by bus, and all these freaks keep staring at me, and when I got here everyone pretended not to know me, even though I could tell they all recognized me, and your crone of a receptionist was really rude, and it’s such a burden being so ordinary when you know you have so much to give.’ I took a deep breath. ‘And—’

Miss Shirley frowned at the form in her hand. ‘I think there must have been some mistake. It says here you’re seventeen?’

‘Yes?’

She pursed her lips. ‘Well, we’ll run a fairly basic syllabus this week so we can assess your needs, but I think you should definitely start “Emotional Growth 101”. I’m sure you’ll zoom through puberty before you can say “Green Gables”. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think my next student is finally here.’

As I left, a white rabbit ran frantically up the garden path towards the office. I could hear Miss Shirley scolding the panting creature: ‘I don’t care if you got a cameo in a sci-fi film about the nature of reality and big guns, it’s no reason to be tardy …’

She was clearly strict, and I wasn’t sure what she’d meant by ‘puberty’, but all the same I felt like she knew what she was doing. This time next year, I was convinced I’d be ready for my first adult storyline, or perhaps some sort of crossover fiction.

A tall, lank-haired boy with terrible acne and a dumb expression greeted me cheerfully as I reached the English Department. ‘Hi, you must be Heffa. My name’s Chip, Chip Board, I’m hoping to be big in romcoms some day. Pleased to meet you.’

Looking into his tiny and unperceptive eyes, I could immediately tell that there was no chance of Chip ever being worthy of my friendship. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, though, so I responded with what I hoped seemed to be equal enthusiasm: ‘Don’t get any bright ideas, crater-face. I’m not going on a date with you, if that’s what you’re getting at.’

He smiled. ‘Hey, great! So, I was thinking, the school can be pretty confusing at first. If you need any help finding your way around, just give me a holler!’

‘Did you not hear me? I’m looking for a leading man, and you’re nothing more than a sidekick. Anyway, are we going to stand here all morning, or are you going to open the door for me like a proper gentleman would?’

‘Oh gee, sorry, Heffa.’

He opened the door and then lay down in the doorway. I made sure to wipe my feet on his back as I walked over him; I didn’t want to make a bad impression by leaving a trail of muddy footprints on the floor.

The classroom was already full and my new classmates were staring at me. I blushed, and heard a gasp from one of the boys near the front.

‘Look at how ethereally rosy her cheeks are!’ someone said.

I found the attention overwhelming, and rushed to an empty desk near the back of the class, secretly gratified by the way people were gawking at me, even though they had no reason to.

The bell rang and the teacher, Mr. Fallacy, called the class to order. ‘Good morning, students! As you can see, we have a new member of class today. I won’t embarrass Heffa by asking her to introduce herself, but I’m sure you’ll all make her very welcome.’

I could tell Mr. Fallacy and I weren’t going to get on. Forcing me to make a brief personal presentation to the class would have been the perfect time to enthrall my glamor-starved classmates with my awkwardness. As I metaphorically kicked myself over the lost opportunity, the girl at the next desk leaned over to introduce herself.

‘Hi Heffa, I’m Wanda, Wanda Mensional. I’m sure we’re going to be great friends!’

I looked Wanda up and down for a few seconds, judging her clothes, hairstyle, and bland grin. She seemed like an ordinary teenage girl in every way, someone who would definitely benefit from being exposed to my profound and unique take on the world. I resolved to pretend to return her offer of friendship, while secretly continuing to smirk judgmentally at her utter mediocrity.

‘Hi Wanda, it’s so nice to meet you too, insincere smile.’

‘Did you just say “insincere smile”?’ She looked confused. Typical. One minute into our ‘friendship’ and I’d already outgrown her.

Mr. Fallacy came to my rescue by calling on someone to start reading from our current set text. I felt my heart sink when I learned what it was. I’d already studied Finnegans Wake in kindergarten, and I didn’t relish having to spend the rest of the semester explaining it to the empty-headed clods around me.

After class, Chip walked me from English to the gymnasium, prattling interminably about life in Spatula and the mundane antics of his gang of friends. I listened patiently nevertheless, sure that it could only be a matter of time before he switched to a more interesting subject – like me, for instance.

‘So Heffa, anyway, what do you like to do for fun?’

‘Finally! I nearly died listening to that. Your life sure does sound pointless, Chip. You shouldn’t pry, though. What I do with my free time is none of your darn business.’

That’ll intrigue him, I thought. Someone like him could never appreciate my refined pastimes, like reading Jane Austen and going to the supermarket and other things more suited to the frustrated middle-aged protagonist of a short story I longed to be, so why mention them?

Gym was just as dull as English, and Chip stared at me the whole time we were jogging round the track. I hated the attention, and tried to get him to stop by running my hands through my long, dark, lustrous hair and then flicking it over my shoulder, but – confusingly – this only seemed to make him drool even more.

Worried that Chip would become a problem, I confronted him after the lunch bell rang. I stepped over the large pool of slobber that had formed around him, crossed my arms beneath my ample bosom, and spoke kindly: ‘Look, Chip, you seem like a fairly harmless sort of idiot, but I’m just not interested in boys right now. I’m only seventeen, for goodness’ sake. What sort of a crazed pervert hangs out with boys at that age?’

He looked downcast, and I turned to leave, satisfied that I’d let him down gently.

As I entered the cafeteria, Wanda waved to me from a nearby table, where she and some other kids sat. I waved back with what I’m sure she thought was genuine friendliness. The dish of the day was steak tartare, but I decided to go for some fruit; I was always in the mood for a banana. When I’d got my lunch, I headed for Wanda’s group, preparing myself for yet another barrage of intrusive personal questions. Honestly, why couldn’t people just leave me alone?

Wanda was talking with a couple of other girls, and the boys next to them were deep in a discussion; they seemed to be talking about where to obtain a cat. I put my tray on the table, pulled out an empty seat and sat down. After a few seconds, I stood and picked up my tray, then smashed it back down on the table as hard as I could. The others turned to look at me. Oh dear, here come the questions, I thought, and sat down again, resigned to the fact that for some reason I was fated to be the center of attention.

‘Heffa, let me introduce you to the rest of the gang.’ Wanda gestured to the other girls at the table. ‘The one who’s not quite as pretty as me is Kristina Shy, she’s hoping for supportive best friend roles, and this is Piper Thinne, who’s taking “Advanced Bitchery”. The guys down there are my brother Tudor Mensional, Rudy van Warmer, and Justin Case. Pretty much everyone else in school is just an extra, so don’t worry too much about learning their names. I’m not even sure they have them.’

Satisfied that I knew all I needed to about my new so-called friends, I adopted an expression of vague interest and let my gaze wander around the cafeteria. As Wanda had said, it was mostly filled with extras, but there was one table on the far side of the room that caught my attention.

Around it sat the three most unlikely looking high-school students I’d ever seen (and I’d seen 90210). The two boys and a girl each had a plate piled high with steak tartare, which they were eating so fast that their forks were a blur. Red juices dripped from their chins and they licked their lips with enthusiasm. As I’ve mentioned, I have an ivory-hued complexion, but next to them my skin looked utterly ordinary, no more pale than Wanda’s! Their skin was so translucent, they looked like a gang of albino mimes.

But that wasn’t all – they were staggeringly beautiful as well. I looked from face to face, and found each was more stunning than the last. I realized with horror that I’d left my thesaurus in English class, and so wouldn’t be able to describe their beauty in suitably poetic terms, but let me tell you, they were smokin’ hot and no bullshit.

I was reeling with shock, and turned to Wanda to ask her who they were, but before I could recover my voice, I noticed that a cloud of dry ice had begun to drift out from under their table. The lights in the cafeteria dimmed until their table was the only one that remained lit, seemingly by concealed spotlights. I looked to the others on my table for some kind of explanation, but no one seemed to have noticed; Wanda was still happily talking away about some movie with a fake-sounding name she’d seen last week.

Suddenly, pounding dance music filled the room, and the eerily pale girl sprang from her chair and onto the table. I noticed for the first time the exquisite designer clothes she wore. She proceeded to strut back and forth along the tabletop, turning to stand and pose before each of her fellows, who clapped enthusiastically.

After a few further twirls, she leaped gracefully back into her seat, and one of the boys took her position on the table. He was wearing figure-hugging jeans, a white shirt and a leather waistcoat, and a huge floppy hat with a peacock feather in the brim. His companions applauded as he sashayed back and forth in slow motion and pouted prettily.

I grabbed Wanda by the chin and yanked her head round to face them. ‘Wanda!’ I exclaimed. ‘Who. Are. They?’

‘Who?’ she asked, a little confused.

‘Them, over there, strutting up and down the table like it’s an episode of America’s Next Top Model?’ I was virtually screaming at her now.

‘Oh, the unearthly, beautiful, mysterious, staggeringly well-dressed and impossibly fascinating family? I’m not sure, no one has ever really paid them much attention, what with there being so much else going on at the Academy. I think they’re called the Kelledys.’

Kristina chipped into the conversation with some useful exposition. ‘Yes, they’re the Kelledy family; their father Joseph runs the award-winning butcher’s shop in town. Let me see if I can remember their names. The short, perky girl is Bobbi, the boy sitting down is Jack, and the one that’s standing next to you, glaring at you with intense hatred, is Teddy.’

‘Aargh!’ I spun round in my chair, and found myself staring into the most beautiful face I’d ever seen. I tried to take in the details of this Teddy Kelledy’s face, drinking in his chiseled jaw, his perfect straight nose, and his beautifully bouffant, side-parted hair. He continued to glower at me with dreamy pitch-black eyes and unmistakable hostility. I was used to that, of course, but I hadn’t even spoken to him yet; it usually took a few days, at least.

An odd, gurgling noise came from the Kelledy boy’s throat, then his marble lips parted and he vomited his lunch all over me. I stood in utter shock, steak tartare dripping from my sweater, as Teddy Kelledy hissed through his strangely pointed teeth at me, his mouth a hideous grimace of pure malevolence. He turned on his heel and ran out of the cafeteria, his waist-length velvet cape billowing out behind him.

‘A p-p-pleasure to meet you, too,’ I stammered, before the smell of half-digested meat made me faint.

I recovered to find Chip wafting air at me with a schoolbook. ‘Get away from me, Chip,’ I thanked him. My top was ruined. I’d have to go home and change. It would mean cutting the ‘Romantic Dialog’ class, but I couldn’t imagine I’d need that any time soon.

I left the school and took the Supermarket and Diner (movie only) Road to the Economart to stock up on groceries. As I pushed my cart along the aisles, I thought for the first time about my bizarre encounter with Teddy Kelledy. I was as ordinary and uninteresting as he was unusual and exotic, so why had he reacted like that? Was he allergic to me? Would that happen every time we met? And where did they keep the darn stain remover in this stupid supermarket anyway?

In exasperation, I shoved the trolley too hard and lost control; it went spinning forward, knocked into a carefully stacked pile of cans, and sent them flying. Someone cried out in pain. Oh dear – what had I done? I’d hoped to leave my clumsiness behind in Sunnytown, but no such luck. It made life so difficult.

I paid and left, ignoring the store worker who wanted to talk to me about some attention-junkie’s broken leg. By the entrance, a gang of kids with long hair, checked shirts and stubble were spray-painting some slogan onto the wall: ‘Bark If You Love Wolves’. What on earth did that mean? Would any of the local youths turn out to be people I could make friends with? It didn’t look good.

Back at the house, I started on a casserole for dinner, and was just serving it up when Chump got home.

‘Hey, Heff, how’s it going? How was your first day?’

‘Fine, thanks! Everyone at school was friendly and it seems like they’ll be easy to manipulate, except for this one kid who threw up on me. He was kind of fascinating, though. You know, Dad, I wouldn’t be surprised if he and I became …’

‘Sounds great, Heff. Anyway, I’m going to go and watch the game,’ Chump interrupted, before grabbing his plate and lumbering off to the living room.

I stirred my casserole and sighed. If only there was someone in Spatula I could really talk to. About myself.

chapter 3

a little death

When I woke up the next morning, the dull nothingness of Spatula seemed deeper and duller than ever. Was every chapter going to begin with another day dawning? Couldn’t I skip the awkward breakfast conversation with Chump just once?

My heart sank further as I drew back the curtains and saw the tendrils of a thick fog curling damply over the street outside. My clumsiness combined with limited visibility was a likely recipe for disaster. I could only hope I’d get through the day with my dignity and self-esteem intact, and I supposed not hurting anyone else would be nice, too.

Chump was gone by the time I got downstairs. I quickly whipped up a breakfast casserole, did the dishes, ironed Chump’s spare shirt, and swept and mopped the kitchen. I didn’t have time to scour the sink or clean the oven; that would just have to wait till later. I left a note pointing out all my hard work to Chump so he’d be able to be suitably appreciative – he found it so embarrassing when he forgot to thank me – and set out.

The drive seemed wider and emptier than before. At first, I thought it was the fog playing tricks, but then I realized: the car was gone! Chump had actually taken it to go to work! I couldn’t believe he could be so ungrateful and thoughtless after all the effort I’d put into making his hovel halfway habitable.

When the bus finally arrived, it was so full of whining, shouting teenagers that my heart felt bruised by their uncouth natures.

‘Don’t you have a bus for the more advanced students?’ I asked the fat, toad-like driver, who was possibly the most unpleasant, wart-ridden sight of all.

‘Siddown and shaddup,’ he retorted, stamping his foot on the accelerator and nearly sending me flying. ‘D’ya want the weasels to catch us?’

He cursed loudly at the sirens coming closer, and went round the bend so fast I tripped and fell into the nearest available seat, right next to Chip, who smiled at me hopefully.

‘Hey, Heffa. Look, it’s foggy.’

‘I can see that, Chip, but thanks so much for pointing it out anyway.’

God, talking about the weather was elementary conversation for beginners; was this really the level of erudition I could expect at America’s premier character school? Once again, I bemoaned the luck that had given me such exceptional skills. It made interacting with people so hard.

Justin Case leaned over the seat from behind. ‘Hey, Heff. Look – fog!’

‘It’s foggy all the darn time, guys,’ Piper pointed out, rolling her eyes.

‘But Heffa’s here now, so suddenly it’s super noteworthy!’ Justin said. ‘Say, Heffa, we could play hide-and-seek in the fog later, what do you say?’

I opened my mouth to tell him exactly what I thought of his endearing, if pathetic, attempt to spend time with me, but was interrupted by an earth-shattering crash as the bus ploughed into the wall next to the school. The driver jumped through the broken window and ran down the road, shouting, ‘You can’t catch meeeee!’

We clambered out of the ruined side door and into the main courtyard, and began to hurry to English.

‘We could play Street Urchins and Pickpockets at lunch,’ Chip suggested hopefully as we walked. ‘The Artful Dodger’s team always wins, but it might be fun if I slipped my hand into your soft, narrow pocket, don’t you think, Heffa?’

I ignored the invitation, sure they didn’t really want to include me – what could a clever, pretty, thoughtful girl like me add to their fun? Anyway, I was far too klutzy to participate in any kind of physical activity, not to mention that I might break into a sweat and ruin the perfection of my skin.

All I could think about for the rest of the morning was the possibility of seeing Teddy Kelledy again. Perhaps I’d been wrong to sense that moment of connection as he lost his lunch all over my sweater, but of all the students here, he was the only one who seemed to share my sensitivity and distance from the rest of humanity.

Luckily, my trance-like state allowed me to pass over the two lessons with the minimum of fuss and description, and before I knew it, it was time for lunch. The fog had cleared, much to Chip’s unhappiness.

‘They always change the weather just when we’re about to have fun,’ he complained. ‘I don’t know why the school’s Health and Safety Board is so uptight.’

‘It’s not the Health and Safety Board, it’s the fact that Stephfordy finds exciting action sequences really hard to write,’ Wanda explained. ‘Did you really shoot one of the Pevensies in the arm during Archery, Heffa?’

‘I don’t remember,’ I said. Now that I thought about it, there had been a lot of screaming and running about in my Gym class, but I’d been too busy trying to decide the exact shade of Teddy Kelledy’s eyes to pay much attention. ‘Are you coming to Music this afternoon?’

‘I c-can’t,’ Wanda said, stuttering slightly. ‘I, er, have an errand I have to run for my dad.’

I had been hoping that I might be spared Teddy’s otherworldly beauty, but when I got to the ‘Mood Music’ class, he was there. He retched a little when he saw me. I dared to meet his gaze. The rest of the room went out of focus, and the background music changed to ‘lush sweeping strings’. The air between us seemed weighted with tension and foreboding, and I knew I hadn’t been wrong about our connection.

Chip clicked his fingers in front of my eyes. ‘Snap out of it, Heffa. You’ve been staring longingly at Teddy Kelledy for five minutes.’

I hadn’t realized how much time had passed. Time meant nothing when confronted with Teddy. Already, I could sense he was becoming the center of my existence. Well, sharing it with me, anyway. As I glanced at him again, the strings swelled behind me, dust motes seemed to dance in the air …Then the teacher turned off the cassette deck.

‘Music!’ he announced. ‘The quickest, laziest way to establish mood. From screeching strings that create tension to playing “Hallelujah” when a death happens, music is central to drama. Heffa, why are you standing in the middle of the room ogling the pale student in the top hat? Go sit down.’

I slid into the seat next to Teddy and shuffled over so we were almost touching. He made an effort to smooth his expression. Without the glowering, he was more than merely gorgeous. He was alluring and enchanting and incredible and divine (I’d spent a useful half hour with my thesaurus last night). I swayed slightly and, in an attempt to regain my balance, thrust my hand out, brushing it over his thigh. I’d touched him! It was everything I’d dreamed of, rough and hard, though that might have been the denim.

‘Hello,’ he said, moodily.

‘Hi,’ I responded, instantly cursing myself for my lack of originality. But he was talking to me!

He took his hat off and fiddled with it for a moment. ‘I apologize unreservedly for my lack of digestive control yesterday.’

‘That’s all right.’ I resisted the urge to tell him I was never going to wash that sweater again. ‘You can do it again if you like.’

‘I believe I shall cope,’ he said. There was something fascinating about the way he spoke, so formal and stilted, almost as if he’d never heard a real person talk and had no idea what they sounded like.

Mr. Dminor cleared his throat, and I prepared myself to learn, hard as it was to tear my eyes away from the vision of beauty beside me.

‘Today, class, we will be looking at adolescent gloom rock, which is frequently and tiresomely used to express alienation. I’m going to hand out some teenage magazines, and I’d like you to identify the cover bands and place them on the scale from “wistful” to “wrist-slittingly depressing”. Is that clear?’

I sighed. I’d already covered this in Sunnytown, along with all the other lessons any teacher could come up with. Even the topics I hadn’t studied I usually found easy, since I’d read every book in my local library twice. It was that or attempt to engage with boy-obsessed girls and tedious jocks. It could get boring being so far ahead of everyone in my age group, but the teachers seemed not to want to embarrass me by pointing it out, which was considerate of them.

The magazines were handed out. I glanced at the first one. ‘My Chemical Romance.’

Teddy nodded, looking surprised and pleased at my perception. ‘The next one’s Muse. I think I would place them more in the “heartsick yowling” category.’

I identified Fall Out Boy – ‘angsty pseudo-deep whining’ – he named Paramore – ‘melodic bitterness’ – and I finished with The Cure. Teddy looked impressed. ‘I wouldn’t have expected someone as young as you to know the work of Robert Smith.’

I flushed. ‘I took the class before. But I like The Cure. “Never Enough” is one of my favorite songs. It really speaks to me, you know?’

‘I do,’ he breathed. ‘I’m surprised to find someone else in Spatula who feels that way. What other music do you like?’

He couldn’t be interested in me, I was sure. He must be being polite. Best to keep this on a professional level. ‘I just moved here to further my career. I’m not that interested in falling for anybody – unless something out of the ordinary happened and I met my undying love suddenly sitting beside me in music class, that is. Do you think that could happen?’

I leaned close against him and fluttered my eyelashes a little; I’d seen people do that in films and it seemed to get results.

‘It seems unlikely,’ he said. ‘Especially the undying love part, there’s no such thing as the undead, how mirthful to suggest otherwise. Ha.’

His nervous, shifty reaction convinced me he was lying about something, but at the same time, I could almost believe he was seeing the person no one else did: the deep and meaningful narrating Heffa. I looked into his eyes. I’d thought they were black, but today they sparked bright colors, like twin kaleidoscopes going round and round in front of me.

‘Oh, Teddy—’ I began, and was about to tell him how his brutally side-parted hair was inspiring me with thoughts of what we could do with Brylcreem, when he suddenly jumped to his feet.

‘I must go – the smell of your blood is overpowering!’ he ejaculated.

‘My blood?’

‘Sorry, not blood, I meant, um, pen,’ he said hurriedly, and sped out of the room. He moved so fast the SFX budget couldn’t keep up with him, and the overall effect was frankly a bit lame. I reached out to stop him, but only succeeded in scattering the pile of magazines and hitting Rudy van Warmer in the back of the head.

‘Gee, thanks, Heffa!’ he beamed through his tears.

I didn’t reply. Had I imagined that moment of intimacy with Teddy? Had he really ‘ejaculated’? No one had used that word since the fifties. There was definitely something strangely old-fashioned about him. What had I done to make him angry? What was it about me that made him feel the need to throw up or run away? Perhaps it was simply that his utter perfection allowed no room in his life for anyone who didn’t live up to his high standards. There was no future for us. I put the elastic band I’d been idly twisting into a promise ring back in my bag and resolved to put him out of my mind entirely.

The next class was a special presentation from the seniors majoring in ‘Spontaneous Musical Routines’. We filed into the hall. I looked round for the lodestone of my life – completely forgetting my resolution in the previous paragraph; he was just too darn fascinating – and saw him standing on the upper balcony with his siblings. Our eyes met. Time slowed. Music started up from nowhere—

Kristina nudged me. ‘The show’s starting.’

An attractive young man stood onstage. ‘Hi, everybody, I’m Trey McBlande. My backing band, the Spunky Puritans, and I are going to perform a song for you that will hopefully clear up some things you might have been wondering about recently, now that you’re all moving towards adult parts. The birds and the bees, and so on.’

‘There aren’t any bees in Spatula, it’s too cold,’ Kristina whispered, sounding confused.

‘Right,’ Trey said into the silence. ‘Hit it, spunksters!’

The chorus cartwheeled on behind him as he warbled into the microphone:

The world’s getting scarier

Your parts’re getting hairier

Things are starting to swell …

You might think about dating

But you’re better off waiting

If you don’t wanna go to hell!

A pretty brunette jazz-handed her way up to stand next to Trey. Kristina clutched my arm excitedly. ‘It’s singing superstar Winona Arizona! Oh Em Gee!’

Superstar Winona Arizona looked somewhat familiar. ‘Isn’t that Wanda Mensional, only in a wig?’

‘What are you talking about? Wanda’s hair is blonde. Winona’s hair is brown.’

‘I know, that’s why I said “wig” …?’

She frowned. ‘Ssh, Heffa, we’re missing it!’

Condoms are naughty; the Pill is a sin

Abortion is murder, only one way to win.

‘What’s that, Trey?’ Winona simpered.

‘It’s simple, Winona—’ Trey beamed, and the rest of the Puritans joined in on the chorus:

Don’t waste it, chaste it!

Trey backflipped over a large inflatable penis the chorus line were holding up and continued singing.

Your hearts might be yearning

But hellfire’s burning

You’d better deflate it

Remember – don’t waste it, chaste it!

The chorus hurriedly covered the protuberance with a white sheet and twirled their silver rings in the air.

Crack hos might taste it

Lesbians turkey-baste it

But it’s time that you faced it

Those folks won’t be saved

So, kids, if you don’t wanna waste it

(And you don’t wanna waste it)

Don’t waste it, chaste it!

Trey McBlande backflipped again, while the chorus made a human pyramid with Winona at its top, waving cheerily. Her wig had slipped, revealing strands of blonde hair. I realized a whole page had passed without anyone paying me any attention, so I glanced over at Chip, who fainted with gratitude.

‘Any questions?’ Trey McBlande asked.

Piper raised her hand. ‘What’s dating?’

Trey seemed puzzled. ‘Well, you know, when a boy and a girl like each other and spend more time with each other than with the rest of their friends …’

‘Like Bobbi and Jack?’ Piper asked.

‘Yes, I suppose so—’

‘Even though they’re brother and sister?’

‘Er,’ Trey frowned. ‘Isn’t there a boy you like in a special way?’

‘Oh, I like Chip. But he likes Heffa. All the boys like Heffa. It’s weird, it’s only since she came to town that anyone’s thought about boys and girls, even though we’ve all known each other for ages and are supposed to be seventeen years old.’

I sighed as Piper glared at me. I couldn’t help it if the boys liked me more than Piper and the other girls; it wasn’t like I was encouraging them, except by being pale and dull and interesting.

‘Any other questions?’ Trey asked, slightly desperately.

Rudy put his hand up. ‘What’s a penis?’

‘Okay!’ Trey declared. ‘Looks like our work here is done!’

He and his team hastily started packing their props away, and the rest of us began to make our way out of the hall.

‘That was certainly very stimulating,’ Justin commented, sidling up beside me, and I hurried down the steps away from him.

At the bottom, I glanced upwards. Teddy was standing on the balcony, glaring down at me. I lost myself momentarily in the shadows of his eyes …

‘Heffa, look out!’

I spun round – the Spunky Puritans were manhandling the prop penis through the theater entrance, and one of them had lost their footing on the stairs. I froze as the giant member thrust forward. There was no way to avoid its tumescence. It fell full onto me, knocking me down. My head struck the cold tarmac, but I felt strangely warm beneath the elongated rubber hardness. Warm and contented – tingly, even—

There was a pop and a hiss, and Teddy’s face appeared above me. ‘Heffa?’

‘You saved my life,’ I murmured, as the penis deflated and was lifted away, leaving me somehow bereft. ‘Wait. Weren’t you on the balcony? How did you get here so fast? Are those fangs?’

‘Mo,’ Teddy mumbled, covering his mouth with his hand. ‘And I wasn’t on the balcony. You must have a concussion. Or be seeing things. Or going mad; I hear that can happen to girls in novels, what with all the overwrought emotion.’

‘But—’

‘Hush now, you might be injured,’ Teddy said. ‘I’ll take you to my father. He’ll help.’

He picked me up easily. His arms were strong, hard, cold … yet I felt safe. I swooned backwards a little and pursed my lips, but he merely barreled through the gaggle of concerned boys crowding around to check I was unharmed and carried me to his car. He set me down gently, and reached over for the seatbelt.

‘I can do that myself, you know.’

‘Heffa, you can’t walk down the street without almost getting crushed to death by a massive rubber cock. Now be quiet and let me handle things.’

The contempt in his tone was too much to bear. I was the main character in this book; surely that was his cue to find me as fascinating as everyone else did. ‘If you can’t stand me, why did you save me?’

‘I don’t know. I wish I hadn’t.’

‘You’d rather see me dead?’

‘Yes! No! You’re bad for me, Heffa; I feel strange stirrings in my pants – I mean heart – whenever I’m around you, and I don’t know what they mean!’

Even his incoherent ranting was beautiful. His lips were clenched together, every inch of him rigid. He drove off without another word, though, and I decided not to provoke another outburst, instead spending the drive eyeing up his manly chest, his talcum-powder-hued skin, the slight tips of his pointed teeth on his lips …

Chump was waiting for me at the butcher’s. Of course, he had dropped everything to be at my side, how typically inconsiderate of him, wanting to muscle in on my action. He took me away from Teddy and rushed me into the shop.

‘Some of your steak and she’ll be fine,’ he told Joseph Kelledy, who was idly licking one of the hanging carcasses.

‘Of course, Mr. Lump,’ Joseph Kelledy said, wiping the blood from his perfectly sculpted mouth. ‘So this must be Heffa?’

‘God, didn’t you get the memo? Yes, I’m Heffa. Duh.’

‘You’re driving my boy wild,’ Joseph said, earnestly. ‘Ever since you arrived, he’s been spending all his time here working on batch after batch of his special sausages.’

‘What in the blazes are his “special sausages”?’

‘Ah, it’s an old family recipe from England; what you do is take some skin, engorge it with blood, sink your teeth in, suck until you … Anyway, he only makes his special sausages when he’s got something on his mind. I think you may be the most important thing in his life already. We’re so glad you came to Spatula; his moping was getting right on our nerves.’

‘Yeah, right,’ I said. His description seemed at odds with Teddy’s bipolar attitude towards me. ‘I wish I was dead.’

‘Well—’ Joseph Kelledy started, but then Chump butted in like he always did.

‘Now, Heffa! Joseph could be butchering animals anywhere in the US. We’re very grateful that he brought his expertise and large collection of boning knives to our small town. Be more polite.’

‘It’s all right,’ Joseph said, absentmindedly reaching for a spare steak after handing Chump the parcel. He started to chew on it, saying round his mouthful, ‘I’m sure Heffa’s just had a long day of specialness and poorly coded sexual frisson, she must be tired.’

He was right. I went straight to bed when we got home. I’d expected to have trouble sleeping, and as soon as I closed my eyes, I was overwhelmed with memories. Teddy’s face so close to mine, his marble figure tightly thrust against me … but then Stephfordy reminded me that this couldn’t go beyond a PG-13 rating, so I stopped there and fell asleep instead.

chapter 4

teddy revealed

I was woken by a shaft of sunlight streaming through my curtains. Even though it had only been a few days since I’d been in Sunnytown, the non-stop gloom of Spatula had already made proper daylight feel like a distant memory. I opened the curtains to check that this wasn’t another of my dad’s jokes, but it was the sun all right, hanging there in the morning sky.

The trees opposite seemed as pleased to see the sun as I was; I’d never seen them so proud and rigid. My mood was lighter today, too, and the bruises on my chest looked better already; they’d faded from a shocking purple to a dull yellow. Mr. Kelledy’s steak must have worked. He’d seemed really nice; it was so generous of him to slip me his meat for free.

What a shame his son wasn’t as pleasant. I remembered how Teddy had looked after he’d saved me by pulling that penis off, his face so full of rage, like he almost wished he’d let it crush me. Still, it was a beautiful day, and I wasn’t going to waste any time thinking about stupid Teddy Kelledy’s bad-tempered behavior the day before.

In the kitchen, I laid out Chump’s breakfast for him, helpfully sticking Post-its on the milk – ‘put the white stuff ’ – and the bowl of cornflakes – ‘on the yellow things’ – before grabbing his car keys and the money from his wallet and setting out for another day of learning and personal growth at the Academy.

I was really pleased with my progress already. Look at how kindly I nurtured my unworthy dad; maybe I should ask Miss Shirley to advance me a year.

The sun was still beating down as I drove, although strangely it did seem a lot closer than usual, like it was hanging directly overhead rather than, like, a few hundred miles away, or whatever. It must have been an optical illusion because of Spatula’s more northerly latitude.

When I pulled into the Academy’s parking lot, however, the odd closeness of the sun suddenly made sense, because it was floating about a hundred feet in the air, right above the main courtyard. It was puzzling, but I didn’t investigate further as I didn’t want to risk ending up in some sappy TV movie about a beautiful blind genius by staring directly at it.

Just then, Wanda appeared at the window, grinning inanely. I wound it down to see what was on her mind, but before I could utter a friendly ‘What is it now, you prole?’ she thrust a bundle of clothes at me.

‘Hurry up and change into these clothes, Heffa, it’s finally Arabian Nights Day again!’

She dumped the clothes in my lap. I could see what looked like purple silk pantaloons, and some kind of midriff-baring top with sequins. Great, looked like sunburn had been added to the curriculum for today, but maybe my intriguing bruises would garner me some much-needed attention.

As I changed into my revealing new clothes, I wondered idly what kind of mid-eastern get-up Teddy Kelledy had been lumbered with; his winsomely pallid complexion was even less suitable for the role of dusky Persian than mine. When he’d grabbed me yesterday, he had seemed quite toned under his shirt, so maybe he could be some kind of bare-chested warrior, muscles oiled and glistening in the harsh Arabian sun. Not that I cared one way or the other about his rippling torso and firm manly grasp. I couldn’t see his car anywhere in the lot, though, even after ten minutes of walking up and down the aisles looking.

The courtyard had been transformed into a desert scene, complete with palm trees, camels, and rolling dunes of sand (which looks good from a distance, but then it gets in your hair and in your clothes and is really annoying and thoughtless, actually). Miss Shirley was addressing a group of students beneath the shade of a palm tree and I made my way over to join them.

Miss Shirley’s lecture was coming to an end. ‘… And remember, children, this is the most important lesson of all: if you meet a genie who offers you three wishes, always make sure to wish for lots more wishes, that’s one wish that’s sure to fox ’em!’

This puzzled me. Didn’t everyone just get what they wanted all the time? What was this stuff about wishing?

Miss Shirley started to shoo us away. ‘Right then, hurry along to classes. The Sun Machine will be switched on all morning so you’ll have plenty of time to enjoy it at recess. Oh, and one last thing, our guest speaker, Ms Scheherazade, is rather absent-minded and does have a tendency to end her lectures before reaching a conclusion, so make sure you attend all 1,001 of her classes to get the full story.’

As I strolled to class with Wanda and Chip, I casually mentioned the absence of the Kelledy car from the lot. ‘Not that I care or anything, but I noticed that the Kelledys’ car wasn’t here, and they’re usually parked in exactly the same spot every day, over there in space B-12, which I’ve always thought is the best spot in the whole lot, aren’t they clever to have picked it, so why aren’t they here today, it’s not because of me is it, or what happened yesterday with the runaway penis, you don’t think Teddy totally hates me now, do you? Ohgodicouldn’tstanditifhedid!’

Wanda calmly removed my frantically grasping hands from her shoulders and glanced towards the empty space.

‘Hey Chip, she’s right, those Kelledy kids aren’t here. What sort of freaks would miss Arabian Nights Day? It’s one of the only days of the year we get to see the Sun Machine.’

‘Yeah, that is weird,’ Chip agreed, ‘and now I think of it, they’re never here when the Sun Machine is on – remember last semester when we had the lesson about sandworms?’

Wanda winced and turned pale (for her). ‘Who could forget it after what happened to poor Paul and Alia Atreides?’

Chip nodded grimly, and put his arm around Wanda. He was really getting the hang of this platonic best friend thing.

We took our seats in English class and Mr. Fallacy handed round copies of our new set text. It was some dumb play called Romeo and Juliet, about a bunch of olden-days people in Venusia, Italy, of all places, as if something like that could have any relevance to my life.

I sighed in anticipation of yet another disappointing lesson. When was I going to learn something I could use at this crummy Academy? Mr. Fallacy started to read the so-called play, but I didn’t pay much attention. I mostly looked out the window towards the car lot, and doodled in my notebook. The other kids lapped up old Fallacy’s schtick, though; the boys in particular seemed to be taking heaps of notes, and I caught quite a lot of them glancing over at me with weird looks on their faces, as if they’d just had some amazing idea. Jeezly-crow, fellas, I’m trying to draw a picture of Teddy Kelledy’s naked rippling warrior torso here. I’d never get his mighty weapon right if they kept distracting me.

When the bell rang, I quickly shoved my notebook and the stupid play into my bag and headed for the corridor. Justin Case was hanging around by the door, and I groaned inwardly as he started to follow me down the hall. Here we go.

‘Hey, Heffa, er, I was thinking, I was checking you out in class—’ He was looking down at a sheet of notepaper. I decided to hear him out. ‘And you’re pretty sweet, y’know, like a rose? Except you aren’t a rose, you’re Heffa Lump, but that doesn’t matter, you’re still sweet, like a rose. But, different, you follow me?’

What was with this rose nonsense, did he think I was pretty or not? I had no time for guys who played games; best to let him know that right now. I lashed out tenderly, scratching my nails down his cheek. ‘Justin, all I know about roses is that beneath their pretty heads they have thorns, so you’d better back off before you get a thorn right in your eye, understand?’

He looked surprised and clutched his hand to his face. As a drop of blood oozed out from between his fingers, he stammered, ‘Well, okay then, Heffa. I guess I’ll see you later on.’

I waved him a cheery goodbye and headed for Gym.

Today, we were to play tennis, a game I had adored since I was a little girl. There was something about all the manly lunging that just appealed to me, and the white uniforms totally matched my milky-white skin. Unfortunately, the gym strips at the Spatula Academy of Fictional Excellence were a ghastly combination of orange and green, but in my head I was clad all in white and trotting out onto Centre Court at Wimbledon.

We were lucky enough to have a visiting professional, Guy Haines, as our tennis coach this semester. Mr. Haines paired me up with Kristina for a doubles match against a couple of the nameless students.

The game began, and I was pleased with the powerful and confident way I was hitting the ball – there was not a trace of the clumsiness that occasionally stymied my pursuit of athletic success. I could see that Mr. Haines had covered his face with his hands approvingly; he obviously didn’t want to look at anyone else play after seeing my skills. I did think our opponents were being a bit unsporting, though: every time I returned the ball, they were shouting things to distract me, like ‘Oh God, my nose,’ or ‘Mind the umpire!’ or ‘What the effing crap, Heffa, I want to have kids one day, you know!’

I was about to complain to Mr. Haines about their behavior when the match was forced to a premature and bloody conclusion. I’d returned service with a brilliant overhead stroke, but as I followed through, my racquet slipped out of my hand and smashed into the floor. It all happened so fast! I heard the sound of splintering wood, and glimpsed the shattered remains ricochet off in several directions. After a second, I laughed – how typical of me to manage to break a solid wooden tennis racquet, what a butterfingers.

My classmates had stopped playing, but weren’t laughing, or even looking at me, actually, despite my demonstration of endearing klutziness. Instead, they were staring at Kristina, who had slumped to the ground with a long and jagged shard of my racquet sticking out of her chest. Her clothes were rapidly turning red as the blood oozed out from what looked like a pretty serious injury.

The other kids seemed paralyzed with horror, but this sort of thing had happened all the time at my previous school, so I felt qualified to take charge of the situation. ‘Step back, everyone, don’t crowd her, give her some room to breathe. Just carry on with your tennis, she’ll stop gushing blood in a few minutes, one way or the other.’

Kristina had the most amazing expression on her face, like she was really shocked by what I’d said. Most likely she was surprised by the leadership qualities I was showing. That’s right, friend Kristina, I’m an even more incredible and complex person than you’d already realized.

Mr. Haines was holding Kristina’s hand and shouting something to Justin about an ambulance. He seemed really panicked; not used to being in a crisis situation, I guessed. He did at least manage to keep his manners when he politely declined my offer of assistance, telling me that I’d done enough already and to go back inside, where I would be safely out of the way. What a gentleman.

I headed for the changing rooms, waving to Kristina as she was lifted, twitching, onto the gurney. ‘See you at lunchtime, Krissie!’

The bell started ringing as I finished getting dressed. I hurried outside, eager to seem eager to catch up on all the cafeteria gossip, and ran right into one of the boys from English class.

‘Heffa, bright angel, you look really, um, fair in those harem pants. O, that I were the seat of those pants, that I might touch your cheeks! Forsooth, there is a rave party next Saturday in the old abandoned Indian casino out at La Trine. Do you want to go? With me?’

Another proposition? This was starting to get really old. First Justin after English, and now this kid, who didn’t even have a name as far as I knew. Why were all the guys at the Academy getting all up in my face with this romantic stuff? I thought I could see a way out of this one, though.

‘A rave party? I’d love to, just give me your name and phone number and I’ll call you to confirm.’

‘M-my name? It’s, umm …’ After struggling with this thought for a moment, his shoulders slumped in defeat, and I walked on.

I’d had just about enough of Arabian Nights Day, but my suffering wasn’t over yet. Outside the cafeteria, there was a gaggle of guys trying really hard to look like they weren’t waiting for someone. When the first of them spotted me, he waved his arm frantically towards me, gibbering, ‘What’s that, yonder to lunch break come? It’s time for eats, and Heffa is the Sun Machine!’

That started the others off, and before I knew it, I was surrounded by coyly smiling boys. Some of them were clutching sheets of notepaper and blurting out random words like ‘wherefore’, ‘prithee’ and ‘juggernauts’, while others grabbed at my hair or tried to clasp my hands to their chest. As their scrawny teenage bodies crowded up against me, I started to feel dizzy, and also totally violated.

‘Please, respect my boundaries!’ I shouted. I don’t know exactly how I managed it, but eventually the careful placement of my knees and elbows in a selection of sensitive areas enabled me to get clear of them long enough for me to make a run for it. I dashed back to the sanctuary of the girls’ locker room and collapsed on a bench, straining to get my breath back.

This was getting ridiculous. I’d known Chip was interested in me since I’d first arrived, but now it seemed like every guy in school was desperate for my attention. Movies, dinners, trips to ‘Inspiration Point’ … I was being bombarded with romantic offers from all sides, and I honestly had no idea why.

Spatula was a small town, but surely there were plenty of prettier girls than me available, I mused as I straightened myself out. My flowing, lustrous locks had been mussed up by my crazed suitors, and my clothes had been yanked this way and that, so they were hanging off my tight young body in a dangerously revealing way.

I looked at my bland, unremarkable face in the mirror. My elegantly sculpted eyebrows frowned and my limpid eyes flashed confusion from beneath my long, fluttering lashes. Pursing my full red lips, I sighed, ‘You’re so plain, Heffa, it has to be their Y hormones or something. I bet Kristina would be getting exactly the same treatment if she wasn’t tucked up safe and sound in the I.C.U.’

But why were they suddenly so keen today? My outfit was very flattering, but I looked great no matter what I wore. Wait a second, where was my copy of that Romero and Juilliard play? The boys had been eating that up in class earlier, perhaps that had something to do with it.

Forty minutes later, things were starting to make sense. I was Juliet, obviously. Like me, she was simple, and loving, and liked watching men fight to the death for her favor. One thing still bothered me, though: how could I convince the guys in school to start dueling over me? The play wasn’t too clear on this, there was just a load of ‘blah blah’ and then the swords came out. I pushed the book back into my bag. I’d have to puzzle it out later; afternoon classes were about to start.

The Sun Machine had been switched off and the sky was gray and lifeless once more. I used the gloom to my advantage, sticking to the shadows as I headed to my class in ‘Improvised and Scripted Dialog’. I avoided any unwelcome attention, but stealth is not the BFF of punctuality, and I was a few minutes late for class. The teacher, Mr. David, was not impressed.

‘Ah, Miss Lump, how good of you to join us,’ he intoned sarcastically. I stood open-mouthed, struggling to think of a snappy response. I really needed to ace this class. ‘Those who arrived on time already have partners for today’s exercise, Heffa. Luckily for you, you are not the only member of the group who possesses neither manners nor a watch. Please step over here, and join Mr. Kelledy.’

And there he was in the corner: Teddy Kelledy, taut yet majestic, scowling at me with those deep, lilac eyes. His mouth had the tiniest hint of a smile and I was sure he was laughing at me. His attention made me feel instantly self-conscious and clumsy as I shuffled over to him. Please let me get through this class without accidentally causing anyone a critical chest wound …

He spoke first. ‘I do have a watch, actually, but I wouldn’t dream of wearing it to school. It cost more than Mr. David makes in a year.’

His confident self-regard seemed friendly enough, and he hadn’t hurled on me yet; maybe this wouldn’t be a total catastrophe after all.

‘You weren’t in class this morning. I thought maybe you’d skipped today?’ I tried to make my inquiry sound casual.

‘No, it was just because it was so bright today. Oh no, I mean, er, I wasn’t feeling so bright today. You know how it is, some mornings you cease your restless nocturnal prowling and you feel as if someone gave you a lobotomy overnight, you know? You ever get that, Heffa?’

‘I guess …?’

‘So I decided to stay at home and catch up on some reading. I’d hardly looked at this month’s GQ. Did I miss anything in English?’

‘Well, actually, we studied a new play, Roboto and Juliet. Have you heard of it?’

‘The most famous love story of all time? The very archetype and paradigm of doomed teenage love, replete with exquisite Shakespearean meter, inspiration for a million lesser imitations since it was first performed in the 1590s?’

‘Yeah, yeah, that’s the one. Anyway, at first I thought it was totally dumb, but then I tried actually reading it and I really empathized with Juliet, looking out her window, yearning, wondering where Romano is. Do you ever feel anything like that, Teddy?’

He looked confused. I tried to point him in the right direction. ‘Feel anything like Juliet’s passion? Or Romeo’s, maybe?’

My hand had moved towards his, and was now mere millimeters away from touching his long, slender fingers. He was looking at me, his cobalt eyes betraying no emotion other than bafflement.

‘Passion? Yes, Heffa, I think I do. Like when I’ve got an animal by the throat and I’m about to rip its …’

Mr. David was suddenly between us, patting our shoulders enthusiastically. ‘Not bad, not bad at all. Heffa, you obviously enjoyed using literary references to talk about your own life, but your choice of material could be a bit more original. Teddy, I think we should have a quick chat about taking a hint …’

As the bell rang, he led Teddy off to the other side of the room and began an earnest conversation, which failed to dislodge Teddy’s bemused expression. I was also feeling a bit puzzled by my day, thankfully now finished, and I wandered back to the parking lot in a daze, wondering what Teddy would have said if he hadn’t been interrupted.

I had to admit, I found him intriguing. He was very pretty, of course, but there was more to it than that. He had a kind of naive, vacant simplicity that was unlike the other boys I’d met, but at the same time there was an undercurrent of power and danger. Kind of like an experimental robotic killing machine that had escaped from a government lab and was trying to live among normal people. Could that be it? Was Teddy really some kind of metal monster looking for love in his own clumsy, murderous way? It seemed as likely as anything else at this point.

A voice behind me made me jump. ‘Hi Heffa!’ Chip.

‘Yes?’ I reciprocated.

‘Look, as a friend, I just wanted to warn you about that Kelledy kid. I saw you talking this afternoon, and I’m telling you, you should stay away from him. He’s trouble.’

‘You don’t even know him, why the heck would you say that?’

‘Come on, look at the evidence. He’s got those long pointy fingernails.’

‘There’s nothing wrong with being well manicured, it’s metrosexual.’

‘And have you seen the way he looks at the school hamsters, like he’s eyeing up his next meal?’

‘He just likes fluffy animals; I think that’s adorable, personally.’

‘And he doesn’t have a reflection, and he’s got those weird long teeth, and he bites people on the neck quite often, and he tried to get a blood vending machine installed in the cafeteria last year. You don’t think any of this is odd?’

I knew that Chip liked me, and that he was being mean about Teddy at least partly out of jealousy, but something in his words struck a chord. ‘Chip, are you saying that you think Teddy is … a secret government cyborg?’

‘No, you stuck-up simpleton, I’m saying he’s a vampire! A vampire! Vam-pire? Undead fiend? Blood-drinking night-stalker?’

He was hopping around now, arms held in the air in what I guessed was supposed to be a menacing pose. My head was reeling, but before I could think of a thing to say, Chip seemed to lose his balance. He staggered backwards, and then started flailing his arms wildly as he was pushed away from me by some powerful invisible force, almost as if he had no substance at all. Looking to my left, I saw Teddy, his cheeks puffed out with exertion as he blew Chip into the bushes on the far side of the lot.

See, Chip, I thought, vampires don’t have super-breath, do they? Shows what you know.

Teddy’s face relaxed into a wry smile. ‘I could see that he was bothering you, Heffa. I hope you don’t mind me watching you. Er, watching out for you.’

‘Oh, no, it’s very gallant of you to rescue me! Thank you, my Romeo. Um, Teddy, I mean.’

‘Right then. I’ll see you in class tomorrow, Heffa. You take care of yourself now.’

With a wave, he headed to his car. I stood by mine, watching while he carefully reversed out of his space, executed a neat three-point turn, and drove at a steady 10 mph out onto the road. Careful whereforehow you drive, my Teddy.

Today had been so confusing. I didn’t even know how to start processing everything that had happened to me. I thought about phoning my mom, but I knew I’d have to listen to her chat inanely about her life for anything up to ten seconds before I could get a word in. What I really needed was a nice relaxing evening of ‘me’ time. I stopped by the Economart on the way home and picked up a stack of magazines, an evening’s worth of gossip and lifestyle tips.

After quickly making a casserole for dinner, I retreated to my room, and began to wallow happily in the misfortunes of vapid celebrities. I’d read the National Infiltrator, Fairly Vain and Slutz, and was on to Spoiled Teen, when one of their surveys so shocked me I spilled my soda.

‘Is the Class Hottie Really a Vampire?’ screamed the headline. I raced through the list of telltale signs. Pointy fangs, pointier fingernails, insatiable lust for blood – I ticked them all. Good gravy, maybe Chip was right after all!

Could Teddy Kelledy really be a vampire? Maybe that explained why I found him so intriguing, when no one else paid him any attention. Only I, out of everyone in Spatula, had the incredible insight (and magazine) necessary to realize that Teddy was more than he appeared. Though even if he was human, he was still a really hot human; you’d have thought that someone might have given him a second look before I showed up. Why, my groin felt wet and sticky just thinking about him! Wait, no, that was from where I’d spilled the soda.

The tacky magazine quiz was compelling evidence, but I felt like I needed more to go on. I was sure I’d felt a bond developing between us in class today and the thought that he could be a soulless beast was difficult to reconcile with the toned, pouting image in my mind. If I was going to get closer to Teddy, and perhaps open up to him intimately, I needed to know more about this vampire stuff. I hopped off my bed and headed down to the living room, where my dad was watching the game.

‘Dad, I need the TV for my school project, and can you leave the room? I don’t want you distracting me with your mouth-breathing,’ I explained, while I rifled through his surprisingly comprehensive DVD collection.

After Chump had gone, I slid the first disc into the player and sat on the edge of the sofa, trying to make sense of what I saw.

Seven hours and three movies later, I flopped into bed. I had watched Bram Stoker’s Dracula, Near Dark, and, just to be on the safe side, The Terminator, and I was as confused as ever.

As I tossed fitfully, I realized I was certain of two things. First, Francis Ford Coppola’s movie blew chunks, and second, if I wanted to know for sure whether Teddy was a vampire, then I’d have to take some drastic action. I’d have to stab him through the heart with a stake. That, or just ask him. One of those two, not sure which, probably best to sleep on it …

chapter 5

getting some action

Fridays were half-days at the Spatula Academy of Fictional Excellence. I realized with a mixture of pleasure and pain that this meant less chance of another awkward encounter with Teddy. My brain told me that maybe this was for the best after what I’d begun to suspect about the possibility of Teddy being less alive than was average for boys his age.

My heart told me different, though. I was feeling better than I had since I first hit the New York Times bestseller list, and I could feel my pulse beat faster every time I thought of his beauty. His smooth hair, his translucent skin, and his neatly pressed pants …

My heart raced, and the blood was circulating to parts of me I never knew existed. Parts you didn’t see pictures of in any kids’ book either, that’s for darn sure. I could feel myself becoming more and more mature with every passing day. I knew I was right to have come here. I would have to call my mom and tell her, ‘Told you so!’

Looking at my timetable, I could see that I had only one lesson of narrative significance scheduled for the day. I resolved to go to Spatula Library in the afternoon in the hope that I might find out more about this vampire stuff. I’d learned a lot last night, and I thought that teenage magazines and DVDs probably had the subject comprehensively covered, but you never knew – maybe there’d be a librarian with a convenient interest in the supernatural. I was keen to get there, so I decided to skip quickly ahead to the beginning of class.

‘Good morning, I’m Mr. Wellbord, your teacher for “Telling Tales: Genre Studies 101”. As you go through life, you might find yourselves in many different kinds of story, and, to be a success, you need to know how to act appropriately for the type of story you’re in. So, who can name a type of story? Chip?’

‘Um, one where there’s a girl who likes two guys, and she doesn’t know which one to choose, but then she has a really wise male friend, who’s a dancer in a nightclub, and he helps her out by pretending to be her husband, to see which one of them gets most jealous, and then she marries them?’

‘Right, Chip, that sounds like a Romantic Comedy, probably not a very good one. Anyone else?’

We were five minutes into the class and Mr. Wellbord hadn’t called on my unique insight yet. Worried for his future career prospects, I raised my hand. Maybe I could learn something about my own situation into the bargain.

‘What about stories with monsters in, Mr. Wellbord? Not kiddie ones, I mean the grown-up kind, with things like ghosts, or ghouls, or … vampires?’

‘Ah, yes, it’s Heffa Lump, isn’t it? Very good, Heffa, you’ve helpfully brought me on to the main part of this introductory class. We call that type of tale a “horror” story. Very often, teenagers like yourselves can find themselves in horror stories. It’s a good training ground to hone such vital skills as running, screaming, and being eviscerated.’

This horror stuff sounded promising. ‘Mr. Wellbord, how do you know if you’re in a horror story?’

‘Another fine question – maybe you aren’t quite as dim as you look. It’s not always easy to tell, actually. Usually you’ll be doing something completely ordinary, like attending a summer camp, or visiting a creepy old house, or mercilessly persecuting a psychic classmate, and then suddenly, aargh, you’re being hunted down by a ruthless supernatural psychopath with topiary shears or pickaxes for hands, or who knows what else!’

I looked around the class. The kids were nodding and writing everything down. Mr. Wellbord was certainly giving them what they wanted, but I still wasn’t sure if what Teddy and I had fitted into this kind of scenario. He’d already proved his fangs were sharp enough to be used as weapons in that cock-munching episode the other day, and I’d seen enough flashes of temper to think that ‘ruthless supernatural psychopath’ might be applicable, but I didn’t want to be just another dumb, screaming victim for him. It already felt like he had a special part deep inside me, and I was sure that I was starting to mean something to him, too. Something beyond the chasing and dismembering that these ‘horror’ stories seemed obsessed with.

‘Mr. Wellbord, can horror stories ever have other types of story mixed in with them, like a horror story that also had a plot like Chip’s in it as well?’

‘You mean a blend of horror and romance? I’m not sure, I suppose it’s possible, but you couldn’t really make the horror bit scary or exciting at all, as you might upset the people – girls, I imagine – who liked the romantic parts. I don’t think it would be a particularly satisfying combination, but you never know, it could turn out to be very popular.’ He turned to the blackboard with a dismissive shrug. ‘I’m going to make some notes here about the most common types of supernatural threat you could face. Do pay attention, this stuff could save your life one day.’

He began to write in large letters: ‘Zombies’, ‘Werewolves’, ‘Mummies’ and, thrillingly, ‘Vampires’. Surely this would tell me what I needed to know …

After a few minutes, Mr. Wellbord had finished. I ignored the other headings and read what he’d written under ‘Vampires’. On the list I read ‘Die in Daylight’, ‘Make Poor Boyfriends’ and ‘Tend Not to Enroll in High School’, none of which seemed applicable to Teddy from what I knew of him. This was agony – the more I found out about vampires, the more confused I became.

‘Mr. Wellbord, are these rules always true? I mean, could there be a vampire who did walk around in the daytime, and who was promising boyfriend material?’

‘I suppose it’s possible, Heffa; the world of fiction is somewhat fluid, after all. Maybe if the story’s author found a monster’s traditional characteristics preposterous, or narratively inconvenient, they might tweak them a bit – or they might even be tempted to dispense with the whole lot of them!’ He chuckled at the prospect. I crossed my fingers tightly and hoped that Stephfordy was listening.

At lunch, Teddy and his siblings were at their usual table in the cafeteria, and I was tempted to go right over and confront him. How could he sit there calmly slurping the blood out of his steak, while my mind and groin were in turmoil thinking about him? Wanda and Justin insisted that I join them at their table and, after a moment, I agreed. I still didn’t know for sure whether Teddy was a vampire, a cyborg, or a hot yet sinister male model, and I didn’t want to make a fool of myself in front of the whole school. I debated asking the others at the table for their opinion, but was interrupted before I could speak by raised voices from the other end of the cafeteria.

Principal Shirley was having a stern conversation with four students I didn’t recognize. They were rangy boys with long, greasy, brown hair, and they were identically dressed in plaid shirts and hideous, stain-covered jeans. They all had bushy sideburns and two of them had beards; they were definitely hairier than most of the students here, except for that little yellow bear kid. They might have been brothers, or, more likely, members of the same gang.

I couldn’t hear what Miss Shirley was saying to them, but they didn’t seem to like it. After a minute, the tallest of them shouted, ‘Don’t lecture me, man, we ain’t doin’ nothin’ wrong in your precious basement, we’re just hangin’ out and practicin’. You can’t stop us livin’, you damn fascist!’

To prove his point, he kicked the nearest table over and then stalked out, the rest of his pack following close behind. Miss Shirley shook her head with concern, or despair. Wanda seemed to know everyone here, so I asked her about the strangely hairy newcomers.

‘They transferred here from La Trine High School, out on the Utensil Indian reservation. Apparently, the principal there thought they had the potential to have their own storyline, but I can’t see them being that significant. The one who was shouting is called Joe, Joe Cahontas. They’re total slackers, but I think they’re in some kind of gang, or band, or something. They call themselves “The Protection Racket”. They do lend the Academy a hint of gritty social realism, but it looks like Miss Shirley is having her doubts about them, and I can’t say I blame her.’

With this last prissy comment, Wanda turned back to Piper, leaving me wondering if this Joe Cahontas would turn out to be important or not. Maybe if things didn’t work out with Teddy, I could callously latch on to him on the rebound. I’d never spoken to him, of course, but I assumed he’d want to go out with me. Didn’t everyone?

That afternoon, I headed for Spatula Town Library. It was a nice day, with visibility out to about fifty feet and only light rain. I didn’t really expect to find any useful information there, but the library was on one side of Spatula Town Park, and I thought that a stroll among the manicured lawns and neatly trimmed bushes might help to calm my inner storm.

I was no closer to understanding the truth about Teddy Kelledy. Was he a vampire, as so much evidence seemed to suggest, or did he just really like red meat, and biting things? Was it time to start sharpening that stake? My legs suddenly felt as weak and exhausted as my brain, so I sat down on the grass to rest.

I stared vacantly at the fountains in the lake at the center of the park, and something about the gushing torrents of water foaming and bubbling and threatening to burst out of the pool’s narrow channel made me realize I didn’t care what Teddy was. Vampire or not, I wanted him for myself. I wanted to feel his hard pouting lips on mine as his muscled alabaster arms embraced me, before his hand slid effortlessly down past the waistband of my jeans …

There was a strange dampness between my thighs. I leaped to my feet – the darn grass was wet with dew, and my pants were soaked through. The humidity in this town was just ridiculous.

Now that I’d decided that Teddy and I were going to be together forever, the rest of the world seemed to come back into focus, like it had switched from a looming close-up of my troubled face to a swooping crane shot of the whole park. There were groups of teens everywhere. I’d never seen such a popular place, but I guess there wasn’t a whole lot else to do in Spatula. Maybe I should suggest to Chump that he opened an arcade or something; he’d clean up.

I could see Joe Cahontas and his gang over by the bandstand. They seemed slightly hairier than they had done at lunch. Joe sat idly strumming a guitar, while the others busied themselves arranging amplifiers and other bits of musical equipment. This must be ‘The Protection Racket’. I considered sticking around to hear them play; I was sure Joe would be keen to learn from my assessment of their musical shortcomings.

They were taking an age to set up, though, and my attention wandered. Over on the other side of the lake, another gang of kids was gathered. They were dressed differently to Joe and his plaid-favoring friends, with baseball caps turned backwards and sweats with crotches about four inches off the floor. They were playing music on a beat-up old boom box. It was indistinct, but I caught just enough of the thumping bass and non-stop profanity to identify it as hip-hop. They had rolled out a piece of linoleum, and were taking it in turns to show off their acrobatic dance moves. They were certainly impressive – Trey McBlande looked nailed to the floor by comparison.

They were different to other b-boys I’d seen, though. For as well as performing the traditional caterpillars and headspins, several of them repeated a strange move where they stuck out their arms straight ahead and bent their legs awkwardly, before shambling from one side of the lino to the other. They whooped it up after every repetition, exchanging handshakes as complicated as the move itself was simple.

Sitting alone, watching these gangs and their peculiar rituals, I realized again how different I was from the other, run-of-the-mill teens in town. I would always be a mystery to them, and they would forever appear shallow to me, for they lacked the deep well of self-importance that made me so uniquely interesting.

How lucky I was that Teddy Kelledy had come into my life. He was alone like me (apart from our respective loving families), and he was a misfit too, with his otherworldly beauty, strange nineteenth-century speech patterns, and lack of pulse. Face it, Teddy, I thought – we’re perfect for each other, and you’re stuck with me.

As if the universe (or possibly Stephfordy Mayo) was in a rush to prove me right, no sooner had I finished the thought than I saw Teddy in the distance, scurrying along the path from the library. He was clutching a stack of books in his arms. How I wished he’d bend me open and crack my spine! His broad shoulders were hunched and he seemed to be in a hurry.

Naturally, I assumed he’d spotted me and was desperate to be with me, but then I saw that he was being chased by a mob of youths dressed all in black. They were jeering at him, ‘Where you going so fast, bookworm?’ and laughing. I saw the leader pick up a rock in his fishnet-gloved hand and pitch it at Teddy. It hit him on the back of the leg and he stumbled, dropping his books.

He was quickly surrounded, and as I lost sight of him, I became angry. I’d only just found Teddy, and no way were a bunch of marauding goths going to take him away from me. As I marched quickly over, I could hear the leader continuing to taunt him. ‘Oh look, the little wimp got a girl’s book, written by a girl. Forever by Judy Blume? You trying to get in touch with your feminine side, pretty boy?’

I shoved my way towards the center of the crowd, frantically trying to catch a glimpse of Teddy as the mocking voice continued. ‘We know all about you, Kelledy, you and your puny family. Maybe you think you’re too good to wear an Avenged Sevenfold T-shirt like the rest of us? You’ve been getting in our way for a long time, but now it’s time for you to get lost, permanently.’

I burst into the space at the center of the circle. The goth leader was standing over Teddy with his fists clenched, his skull rings glittering in the afternoon light. Teddy was on the floor, propped up on one elbow. He made to shield himself with his other arm, but his face was oddly calm, betraying no emotion. I screamed, ‘Stop, don’t hurt my pretty man!’ at the top of my voice and stepped between Teddy and his attacker.

Suddenly, the jeering goths fell silent. Their leader lowered his fists, and a look of surprise replaced the sneering visage of a moment before. The whole group stood perfectly still, so I glanced at Teddy, who smiled ‘hello’ weakly.

One of the goths spoke. ‘Look at her skin. It’s so pale.’

Another chimed in: ‘And her hair, it’s the blackest I’ve ever seen, and it looks natural.’

Then they all started to talk to each other at once, in low, excited tones. A couple of the goths had fallen to their knees. I looked again at Teddy, who shrugged – he clearly had no idea what was happening either. This is a bit weird, I thought, but not unpleasant. They seemed to be … worshipping me. Recognition at last!

The leader held out his hand to me, and spoke. ‘You are Heffa Lump, are you not?’ I nodded. ‘Your skin is as pale as the moon, and your hair is dark as the night. I sense your loneliness, and your yearning to belong to a group, no matter how lame. We can help you, Heffa. You must come with us. It is your destiny. Join me, become a goth. Soon The Reshuffle will happen, and then together we will make all of Spatula cower in fear!’

He seemed genuinely keen to make me come, which was flattering, but all in all I thought I’d rather join with Teddy, if any joining was going to happen today. Best to decline politely. ‘Become a goth? What sort of clichéd teenager do you think I am?! I’m offended, frankly. You guys are pathetic, with your pasty skin and black hair and morbid self-obsession, what makes you think we’ve got anything in common? I’m an individual, thank you very much.’

He looked shocked, but then smiled menacingly. ‘You misunderstood me, Heffa. It is your destiny. I was not offering you a choice.’ He turned to his gang. ‘Boz, give me your blackest lipstick, and you two, grab her arms. Heffa’s going to be joining us, the hard way.’

I backed away from the make-up-wielding goth, conscious that their circle was closing in on me. Escape seemed impossible, but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad; The Cure did have a couple of good albums …

‘Nooo-argh!’ came a guttural scream of pure, violent hatred, and Teddy jumped to his feet. His face was twisted with rage and his mouth snapped open and closed, revealing his fangs in all their long, pointy majesty. He thrilled and terrified me in equal measure. I stood rooted to the spot while he proved, pretty conclusively, that my suspicions about his supernatural origins were correct.

He ran forward, pounced on the leader and tumbled with him to the ground. I saw Teddy tear the struggling goth’s throat out with a single bite, as easily as you’d tear open a condom wrapper. As the arterial spray from the ruined neck spurted into the air, the rest of the goths fell on Teddy, and he disappeared beneath a writhing heap of blackness. Their fists rained down again and again, and I feared that his beautiful, even features would be lost to me.

I needn’t have worried. The pile of goths shuddered, and a vast jet of blood and entrails shot into the air as Teddy sprang free, straight through the bodies of his hapless tormentors. As the limbs and organs squelched wetly back to earth, he seemed to hang in the air for a moment. I felt like I was seeing the real Teddy for the first time, covered from head to toe in blood and gore, and I marveled at his terrible beauty. At the apex of his leap, his crimson eyes looked into mine, and as he held my gaze, he licked his blood-soaked lips. I shuddered with pleasure, and made sure to store the image for later use.

He landed in a crouch, then dashed forward with his arms stretched out sideways. He beheaded two of the fleeing goths with a casual flick of each wrist – his fingernails were even pointier than I’d dreamed. He leaped into the air again, executed an impressive but somewhat show off-y double somersault, and landed in front of me, frowning with concern.

‘Heffa, I do hope you are not unduly alarmed? You should not have interfered. I had the situation well under control, and by getting involved you needlessly endangered yourself. Also, while I enjoyed that brief scuffle a lot, it was over rather quickly. I think I may yet have to rip you to shreds, too, if I am to be satisfied.’

‘Mmmm, rip me to shreds, Teddy,’ I mumbled dreamily, as I watched the blood trickle down his perfect face.

The sound of screeching tires interrupted this tender moment. A black truck was barreling towards us at high speed. It had a bat painted on the hood, in a slightly different shade of black, and a goth hunched over the steering wheel with a distinctly vengeful expression on his face. The flatbed trailer was filled with goths too, and each brandished a silver scythe.

‘More goths – Heffa, come, we must away. My vehicle is parked hither, let’s make a run for it!’

He held my waist in his firm grasp and lifted me off the ground, before dashing across the park towards the library parking lot. His touch made me light-headed and I thought about swooning for a bit, but resisted. I didn’t want to miss a second of this.

He tossed me off into the passenger seat of his sleek convertible, and swung himself with acrobatic grace into the driver’s side. The truck was bearing down on us as he started his engine. From the bandstand, I heard Joe Cahontas shout, ‘One, two, three, four!’ as his band finally started to play. The truck was pulling alongside as Teddy stepped on the accelerator. We gained speed and sparks flew as the side of the goth truck clashed with Teddy’s convertible. The music The Protection Racket were playing was a sort of thrashy grunge rock. That song would make a great soundtrack to a car-chase scene, I thought, as Teddy skidded the car out of the lot and onto the open road.

We sped up quickly, but the goths stayed glued to our tail. We were soon approaching the crossroads and Teddy glanced anxiously into his rearview mirror.

‘That truck is faster than its appearance might indicate. Perhaps we may be able to lose them on the coast road; I doubt that they can take corners with the same agility that my steel beauty can.’ He patted the dashboard creepily, and with a deftly executed skid took the turn for ‘All Other Destinations’.

This was the first time I’d been out this way, and the scenery flashed by so fast that I didn’t think there was any point bothering to describe it. The goths were still right behind us and I could see the driver screaming at his truck to go faster. After a mile or so, the road began to climb and the woods to our left fell away, replaced by a sheer drop down the cliff to the crashing sea below. I wanted to hold Teddy, but didn’t want to distract him. Instead, I clutched the dashboard, which was slightly cold and hard, but not much of a substitute.

The road snaked around a series of tight corners as it hugged the cliff edge, and Teddy had to slow down to keep the car under control. The goths came alongside us then, and I screamed as I saw one of the scythe-wielders preparing to leap the small gap between our vehicles. Teddy yanked the steering wheel to the left and we slammed into the side of the truck. I saw their driver lose his grip on the wheel, and caught the briefest glimpse of his panicked expression before the truck shot off the road and over the edge of the cliff.

Teddy stopped his car and we watched as the arc of the truck’s flight changed from gracefully horizontal to terminally vertical. It hit the rocks at the bottom of the cliff and exploded in a black fireball. A moment later, the sound and the shockwave reached us, and it was over.

Teddy pretended to exhale with relief, and then laughed self-consciously. ‘That was somewhat exhilarating, was it not?’

I was fit to burst with ‘exhilaration’. ‘Wow, yeah, a massive fight, and then a car chase, with an exploding car! I never expected there to be something so cool in this sort of story! I bet that would make a brilliant scene in a movie, if they ever made a film of our story, Teddy.’ I bounced in my seat with excitement at the prospect.

‘Yes, it would, but looking at the damage to my car, I fear that it would be a very expensive sequence to film. Probably easiest to leave the whole thing out and just put another couple of slushy dialog scenes in instead.’

As my face fell, he added cheerily, ‘It’s not all bad, though, Mr. McClane will probably let us graduate “Action Sequences 101” early.’

Then he adopted a serious expression, and fixed me with his lime-green eyes.

‘Heffa, you put yourself in terrible danger back there. That was very foolish of you. I know we haven’t known each other long, but there seems to be something big growing between us, and I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you.’

‘Oh, Teddy, I feel it too – your presence has thrust something enormous into my life. I was just trying to save you from those bullies who were picking on you.’

He smiled sweetly in preparation for the fade at the end of the scene, but I had more to say. ‘Actually, about those bullies. Why were you letting them pick on you? After all, you are a super-powerful vampire, aren’t you?’

His face froze with shock. ‘Heffa, you’ve uncovered my terrible secret. My goodness, how ever did you guess?’

I sighed. I’d have to draw him a frickin’ picture.

chapter 6

coming clean

We drove in silence while I thought about what to say. Was I ready to let Teddy hear what was in my heart? The only person I’d ever really opened up to before was my mother, but we were flesh and blood, and talking to her was easy. We were so close that I could say anything to her, no matter how difficult: ‘I need money for expensive make-up’; ‘you’re too old to wear that top’; ‘your new boyfriend was checking me out’. Nothing was off-limits between us, and she always listened, no matter how hard the truths I spoke.

Could Teddy and I have that sort of relationship? The blood racing through my veins told me I must do my best to open up to him in the same way. He and I were surely meant for each other, no matter how wide the gap between us seemed. Why else would we be together on all the billboards? But still, me an ordinary teenager and him a ghastly parasite from the wrong side of the grave … How could this ever work? We needed to talk.

‘I guess we need to talk,’ I immediately vocalized.

Teddy flinched. ‘It’s late, and you should be getting home. I’ll just see you round school sometime, yeah?’

‘No, Teddy, I’m not ready for bed this early in the chapter. Besides, if you’re feeling anything like me right now, then you need to let what’s inside of you out, before you burst open. Honestly, I don’t think I can wait until tomorrow.’

We sped on. The wind blew my dark, silky locks this way and that, while Teddy’s neatly parted hair remained as motionless as his face.

After what seemed like an eternity, he spoke, without looking at me: ‘Very well. You are right, we have much to discuss, some of it difficult. Up ahead is a place I’ve heard the kids in school talk about; its name suggests we might find it a suitable place for an illuminating conversation. Inspiration Point, they call it.’

That sounded like just the right spot to me, so I nodded enthusiastically. Hopefully I would be able to think of a kind way to tell him that his shirt clashed with his jacket. The light was growing dim, and Teddy flicked his headlights on. I watched the white lines disappear beneath us, trying to decide where to start. Should I admit my feelings straight away? Should we cover the whole undying fiend business first? The shirt? Come on, Inspiration Point, work your magic!

Teddy turned onto a dirt road that wound gently uphill. The trees closed in on either side of the car, but after a few hundred yards, we entered a large, flat clearing on the edge of the cliff. On three sides it was fringed by trees and thick bushes, but where the ground fell away, there was a spectacular view of the countryside below. Spatula lay small and insignificant in the distance, and the lights of Main Street winked on as I watched.

We were not the only ones in the clearing. A dozen or so cars were dotted about, not all next to one another like in a parking lot, but spread out across the entire clearing, as if their drivers had deliberately parked as far from one another as possible. I assumed the cars were occupied as no one was standing outside, but the windows of almost all of them were fogged up, so it was impossible to be sure.

Some of the cars rocked gently from side to side. Their rhythmic motions, combined with the picturesque view, made for a magical scene. The tension I had been feeling slipped away, and I was instilled instead with an unexpected sense of nervous anticipation. I relaxed in my seat and uncrossed my legs.

Teddy looked over at me with an expression that I hadn’t seen before. I imagined, hopefully, that he was trying to decide where the best place to park might be, but his next words made me realize this was far from the truth.

‘Well, the view is quite nice, I suppose, if no better than in many other locations, but there’s a scent in the air here that’s making me feel … peculiar. Peculiar and violent,’ he confessed. ‘It’s best if we leave, it’s far too crowded for a serious private conversation.’

He put the car in reverse and turned around, heading back down the dirt track. I slumped in my seat, arms folded. This was starting to feel awkward. Relationships were so tough, why couldn’t it be simple like when we first met? I sighed loudly, and Teddy’s brow creased pensively.

Then he snapped his long, hard fingers. ‘I know exactly where we can be alone to talk! I’m sure there won’t be anyone there at this hour, and it’s only a short drive away, very secluded: perfect.’

He gunned his engine and we sped off back towards town. A few minutes later, he was leading me excitedly along a narrow, tree-lined path. ‘It’s up ahead, just try not to trip and break your neck for a few more seconds.’

We emerged into an open space. It was nearly full dark now, but in the soft, evocative moonlight, I could see several oddly shaped structures. Some were slender and loomed overhead, while others sat squat on the ground. As I squinted to make them out, Teddy turned to face me with a triumphant expression on his face.

‘Welcome to the playground, Heffa!’

As soon as he said it, I realized what I was looking at. There was a jungle gym, swings, a climbing frame, a see-saw. It was a playground all right.

‘I thought you were taking me to some secret magical vampire meadow or something, Teddy. Honestly, a playground? Are you seven years old or something? What are we doing here?’

He looked taken aback. ‘I … I thought you’d like it, Heffa. This is a very special place to me. Look, they’ve got swings and everything.’

‘Well, it’s quiet at least, but I’ve never really seen the appeal of fun. I’ve always preferred to concentrate on intense brooding. I thought we had that in common – you do like to brood, don’t you?’

‘Oh, of course, no question at all, love the brooding. But being a vampire isn’t all about meaningful stares and soul-searing torment. We like to have fun with our powers, too. I’ll show you.’

Teddy ran off towards the swings. As he gathered speed, he seemed to disappear and was replaced by a dark blur of pure motion. It raced from one piece of playground equipment to the next. He swung high on the swings, higher than I had ever seen anyone go before, and then the next second he was on the parallel bars, spinning round and round so fast that I felt dizzy watching-him. All the while he was laughing – a simple, joyful giggle that was as beautiful to my ears as the sound of Tori Amos covering a Mozart song.

My head was reeling, but I couldn’t look away from his vampire gymnastics. His speed was incredible. That was how he had saved me from that giant penis! If I’m totally honest, the special effects looked very cheap and weren’t that convincing, but it was nothing an increased budget for the sequel couldn’t fix. I was overwhelmed and sat down on the roundabout, pushing my hands against my eyes to block out the pretty.

The next thing I knew, Teddy was sitting next to me, grinning. He wasn’t out of breath, despite his exertions. I like a man with stamina. Come to think of it, he didn’t seem to be breathing at all.

‘Teddy, that was amazing. I can think of a few physical jerks we could try and do together. Shall I slide closer and show you now?’

His face became serious once more. I still wasn’t sure how I felt about these sudden mood swings. ‘Heffa, I think we have more important things to discuss than calisthenics.’

Did vampires sweat? I wondered. He didn’t seem sweaty, but maybe he just hadn’t pushed himself hard enough. I bet there was something we could do about that …

‘Heffa Lump!’ His piercing magenta eyes regarded me impatiently.

‘Oh right, the vampire thing. We should probably cover that before doing anything else, shouldn’t we?’

‘Yes, Heffa, we probably should. I don’t know exactly how you figured it out, but you are right. I am a vampire.’

‘And your siblings, Jack and Bobbi, are they vampires too? And your father?’

He nodded.

‘I’m confused, though. You aren’t anything like the vampires Mr. Wellbord taught us about. You aren’t very scary at all, for one thing, and since when do vampires have super-speed and walk around in the daytime?’

‘It’s simple. The kind of vampires you’re thinking about are from other, more exciting stories. Stories of life and death, man versus eternal evil, that sort of thing. We Kelledys prefer to live a peaceful life, hanging around and pouting rather than getting involved in anything interesting or expensive to film. That’s how we’ve always lived, until you came along. Now, I don’t exactly know what kind of story I’m in any more. I think it might be … a love story.’

I threw my arms around him. He was hard in my grasp, harder than Hulk Hogan’s biceps. ‘Oh Teddy, it is, it is a love story, I feel it too. We’re going to be together forever, like Romeo and Juliet!’

‘Um, hopefully not exactly like them.’

‘Huh?’

‘You didn’t finish reading it yet, did you?’

‘No, and don’t you go spoiling the ending for me, thank you very much. I read the part where they kiss, though. Kiss me, Teddy, my lips yearn for your touch.’

He pulled away from me and stood. ‘No, Heffa, I can’t. This is wrong, our love can never be!’

‘What, why, what are you saying? Is it me? Is it because I’m so plain and ordinary? Is it because I’m fat? Is it my pants? It’s my pants, isn’t it, they make my ass look fat, don’t they? I knew it, I knew my mom was lying. That bitch, I never should have bought the stupid pants. Stupid, stupid.’

‘No, no, it’s not you, it’s me. You aren’t ordinary, you are fascinating. And you aren’t plain, you’re utterly beautiful.’

(Ha, I knew it!)

He held out his hands, and I stood, taking them in mine.

‘And your ass,’ he continued, ‘your ass is the very acme of callipygian. But I’m a vampire, Heffa. A blood-crazed fiend from beyond the vale of death. I was born to kill, and I enjoy it. You saw what happened back at the library. It’s too dangerous for you to be anywhere near me. I could snap and go on a kill-crazy rampage at any time. In fact, I want to punch you in the face right now.’

I fell into his arms. ‘Oh Teddy, I get that all the time! I don’t care about the risks, we are meant to be, and we’re going to be together forever, like Ben and Jerry!’

‘Yes … forever …’ He sounded worried.

‘What is it, my love, don’t you want us to be together forever?’

‘Oh, I do, I’m very powerfully drawn to you. I don’t know why, perhaps it’s because you’re the narrator? But we are from different worlds. I might look like a toned and muscular teenager, but I have been the same age for years, and will be the same age long after you are dust. Vampires do not age, Heffa, and humans do.’

This had not occurred to me. Crap. ‘How old are you?’

He sat me down again. ‘I have been a vampire for a long time, but I was born human, many, many years ago, back in … 1979.’

‘Thirty?! My God, you’re thirty! That’s totally old – ancient, even. Ooh, I feel a bit queasy just thinking about it.’

He turned away from me. I put my hand on his shoulder. ‘It doesn’t matter. I want to be with you, Teddy Kelledy. I’ll drop out of the Academy; I’ll stop trying to become more grown-up; I’ll stay seventeen, and we can be together forever.’

He spun round to face me, his beautiful face and deep terracotta eyes bearing a mystified expression. ‘Seventeen? You’re … seventeen? Wow, I had no idea. From the way you act with people, I thought you were much youn …’ he trailed off. What was he driving at, precisely? ‘Um, I think it’s best if you stay in school, for all our sakes. I mean, your studies are important, I wouldn’t forgive myself if you lost out on opportunities for much-needed personal growth because of me.’

‘Oh, okay, how about this, then – you could turn me into a vampire. From what I’ve seen, it looks basically fine; it certainly suits you, anyway. Then I would stop ageing, and we could be together forever.’

Teddy drifted away from me, over to the swings. He lent moodily against the frame, his head resting on his arm. It’s always important to break up a long dialog scene by moving around the set. After a moment, he spoke again.

‘I already told you, we Kelledys are different from other vampires. Despite the terrible curse we endure, we’ve trained ourselves to rein in our homicidal urges. Well, mostly. We live peacefully among you meat-sacks, er, I mean, humans. We don’t drink from you, except maybe the occasional hobo whom no one will miss. We study hard, we go hiking; we’re members of the Sierra Club, actually. We even offset the carbon emissions of our sports cars. We’re … sensitive.’

‘A sensitive vampire? Oh my God, you mean like Angel? He’s amazing! Do you fight crime as well?’

Teddy frowned, walked back to the roundabout where I sat, and moved his face close to mine. ‘I don’t know who this “Angel” person is. I have never heard of him, and I have certainly not watched his DVDs for inspiration about how best to stalk young human girls.

‘Now, where was I? Ah, yes. You see, we’re sensitive and good, but normal vampires are utterly different. They like long leather coats and tacky silver jewelry, and they live to hunt humans and drink their blood.’

‘Like Spike?’

‘Stop talking about the TV series I have definitely never ever seen and which has not influenced Stephfordy Mayo in the slightest, all right?’

He was looking quite scary now, so I moved on. ‘Those goths! They were vampires too, weren’t they? Is that why they grabbed me like that, to make me a vampire?’ The thought made me feel excited, and also strangely violated.

‘No, they weren’t vampires – merely hangers-on, the servants of vampires. Their presence in Spatula in such large numbers is disturbing. There may be another vampire coven in town. I should discuss that with Bobbi; she is wise and often knows things. I was trying to ignore them, in my peaceful way, but when they threatened you, I had to act.’

‘You totally killed them all; you’re not exactly Gandhi, are you?’

‘I know, but goths are pure evil, and I couldn’t risk you becoming like them.’

‘Oh Teddy, you say the sweetest things.’

I hugged him again, and he held me. I closed my eyes and we stood like that for a long time. My legs were made of jelly, and my heart was beating hard enough for both of us. I knew at that moment that I was in love with Teddy Kelledy, in love unequivocally and irre-co, iverrocab, verroca … 4 eva.

Eventually, I became aware of a light in my eyes. I opened them, and saw the sun rising over the tops of the trees.

‘Look, we’ve talked all night. In keeping with this romantic mood, it looks like it’s going to be a nice day for once: the sun is coming up.’

‘The sun?’ He shoved me away from him. ‘Heffa, I know it’s been a long night, and you already have a great deal to think about, but I’m afraid it’s not over yet. I know everyone at school has been talking about why the Kelledys are absent on sunny days – well, prepare yourself, this is why!’

Teddy Kelledy stood with his arms outstretched in the very center of the playground as the sun climbed above the tree line. As the rays of morning light streamed down on him, something amazing happened. The back of his pants began to glow, and then a blinding beam of sparkling light burst forth from between his butt cheeks. I bathed in its glow like it was a pure golden shower.

‘My God, the sun totally shines out of your ass!’ I exclaimed, struggling to catch my breath as my womanly parts did excitable backflips in my groin.

‘Yes, it does. It’s not enough that I’m tall and pretty and sensitive and a super-powered killing machine, Stephfordy Mayo didn’t want there to be any doubt at all about how awesome I am.’

‘You are, Teddy, you’re awesome. Take me, take me!’

His sky-blue eyes showed shock at my boldness. ‘Take you, Heffa? My goodness, I shall, I shall take you home immediately. We’ve been out all night, your father is sure to be worried!’

Before I could protest, he ran straight at me and tucked me under his arm like I was the morning paper. We were back at the car in seconds, and he plopped me unceremoniously in the passenger seat as he rushed to put up the convertible’s roof, anxious for sanctuary from the rising sun.

By the time we pulled up outside my house a few minutes later, the golden orb had disappeared behind cloud and the sky had returned to its usual, overcast pallor. As Teddy and I stood on my porch, my brain buzzed with everything that had happened since I left the house yesterday morning. Was it all true or was it a dream? Had Teddy really killed those people? Could he possibly feel for me what I felt for him? I had to know.

‘Kiss me, Teddy, I need you to prove you love me.’

‘I do, I truly do.’

He kissed me then, and the camera spun around us dramatically. His lips were as cold as ice, and as hard as, erm, ice. His touch was the most incredible sensation I had ever felt. I needed more. I rubbed my hand softly up and down the crotch of his jeans. He was back in his car almost before I realized he’d stopped kissing me.

‘Urgh, yuk, you put your tongue in my mouth! Gross, Heffa, what the heck did you do that for?’

‘It’s something lovers do!’ I protested. ‘We are lovers, right? Or, you know, soon …’

I pouted hopefully at him, but he merely regarded me with that same expression of simple, confused terror.

‘Aargh, I’m gonna go if you’re going to be unhygienic. See you at school, bye!’

Then his car was speeding off, leaving me feeling empty inside.

This was going to take more work than I’d thought.

chapter 7

The Big Chump

I was in my room when Heffa came in. I heard her heavy tread on the stairs and her bedroom door bang shut. Probably the neighbors did, too. My daughter Heffa has many fine qualities, but daintiness ain’t one of them. The clock on the bedside table read 7:00 a.m., so either she’d been serious about working a newspaper route, or she’d been out all night. I figured the latter, and I’d damn sure quiz her about it later, but I wasn’t rattled, yet. Heffa was a sensible kid, and Spatula was mostly a pretty safe town. Mostly.

Where ‘mostly’ leaves off, that’s where I come in. Chump Lump at your service – Spatula’s premier (and only) private detective. Now, I know that parents in books like this usually get shoved into the background, where we ‘watch the game’ and occasionally interrupt to fret about our kids, but we do have day jobs, and mine’s not a pretty one. Heffa’s so wrapped up in Teddy, she hasn’t spotted that there’s a lot more going down in Spatula than the rain.

Stephfordy and I figured I could show you another side of our fair town. If you’re mainly into the pining and across-the-grave romance, you’d better watch out. It’s about to get pretty hard-boiled around here; you might not be able to take the pace. Don’t say I didn’t warn you …

The familiar smell of the woods greeted me as I left the house. Usually, the odor of damp mulch was as welcome as an old friend with a six-pack, but this morning the hairs on the back of my neck prickled. I felt like something was wrong, like it wasn’t just the leaves and bark that were decaying, like maybe Spatula itself had gone rotten overnight. I tried to shrug the feeling off as I climbed into the cab of my 4x4, but it was no good.

I drove slowly through the center of town towards the diner, trying to reassure myself that everything was as it should be. Main Street was just waking up, and here and there people were ambling towards the start of their day. Joseph Kelledy was hosing the sidewalk in front of his butcher’s shop; and in the lot of the Economart a clerk was drowsily rounding up the stray shopping carts. But then, just as I was starting to relax, something out of place on the wall of the hardware store up ahead caught my eye.

I slammed on the brakes and sprinted across the street to investigate, hardly able to credit what I was seeing. No doubt about it, though: it was graffiti. A ghoulish, blue-green face stared out at me, teeth bared and eyes bulging hungrily. Below this gruesome noggin, emaciated arms with claw-like hands seemed to reach out towards me, and below them was a scrawled slogan, which declared: ‘Zombies Will Rule.’

My guts twisted tighter, and I hoped they were just telling me to skip breakfast. I stepped forward to get a closer look, and my boot sent something hollow and metallic rattling across the alley. I bent down to pick it up. A spray can, ‘pustulant green’, still warm. The paint on the wall was still wet, too – I must have just missed the scum that did this, dammit.

I looked again at the zombie’s twisted visage. Sure, it was crudely painted, and that bugged my sense of aesthetics. It was also a crime, and that made my trigger finger twitch. There was something else beyond the obvious, too. That message: ‘Zombies Will Rule.’ In my experience, graffiti tends to be in the present tense, and declarative – ‘Metallica Rule’, ‘Go Panthers’, ‘Piper is a Slut’, that kind of thing – but this was in the future tense. It stank, but there was nothing else to learn from gawking at it.

I drove to my office, trying to make sense of the morning’s events. Business had been slow recently; people in Spatula tended to be law-abiding and faithful to their spouses, which made it tough to earn a living as a private dick. As I feared, there was no post and no messages on the machine. Sometimes, I regretted leaving the force, but at least I didn’t have that pencil-necked twerp of a D. A. bawling me out every time a suspect mysteriously showed up full of holes and floating face down in the river.

I flicked idly through the Gundersen file on my desk; that ought to be worth a few clams while I worked the angles, and hell, I might even be able to find the kid. Robert Gundersen was an honors student who’d got mixed up with drugs. He hadn’t been seen for two weeks. He was probably five states away by now, but at least Mrs. G was paying my expenses while I went through the motions. I tossed the file back on the desk. It was too early to start visiting the kind of places where I might pick up his trail, and the graffiti was still bugging me. Zombies Will Rule?

I spent the rest of the day making phone calls, tapping up old contacts for info, twisting the arms of reluctant public-relations people and generally making a nuisance of myself. Reverend Jones, Pastor Zennfor and Monsignor D’Agnello all claimed that their respective graveyards were as full as ever. The army categorically denied testing any experimental nerve gases in Spatula this week. NASA reported that none of their satellites had returned to Earth covered in alien diseases: ‘All safely in orbit and accounted for.’ The Institute of Pointlessly Hazardous Research was as cagey as always, but finally admitted that the Nutcase virus was tucked up safe and sound in a rhesus monkey. I even called Colin Blunstone in London, England, but apparently it wasn’t the time of the season to answer stupid questions.

There it was: no zombies, nor any meddlesome human activity likely to lead to their creation. I had nothing, but sometimes nothing was the hand life dealt you, and when that happened, you just had to punch the dealer in the face and go get another drink. Time to forget about the graffiti and go out and earn my pay. I grabbed the Gundersen file and my hat, and headed out the door, on my way to Skanktown to find me some scum.

If there’s one thing Skanktown wasn’t short of, it was alleys and dark corners. Two hours in, all I’d encountered was Joseph Kelledy out for a midnight stroll and several courting couples whose coitus I’d well and truly interrupted. I was passing by the Film-O-Rama, about to call it a night, when a kid stumbled out of the alleyway in front of me.

I put out a hand to steady him, but the ungrateful scumbag barely seemed to register my presence – just sneered and weaved onwards, humming some dirge of a tune. I wasn’t sure what he was on, but I figured it wasn’t anything you’d get from a registered pharmacist.

The alley was dark, and not exactly inviting, but I’d been in my share of dark places before now. I checked my gun had a round in the chamber, and headed in. A silhouetted figure separated itself from the shadows up ahead, but before I could get close enough for a decent look, I heard a noise behind me.

I spun round, just in time to see a length of lead pipe coming at my face. I stepped to the side and lashed out with my fist, feeling the satisfying crunch of teeth rearranging themselves in my assailant’s mouth. The scream of pain suggested that he’d reconsidered his bushwhacking career and wouldn’t be pursuing it in the immediate future. So I turned back towards the silhouetted figure, drawing my gun and holding it by my side as I approached.

The figure took a step back into the small pool of light that trickled down from a second-storey window. He was a youngish guy, early twenties I guessed, and dressed totally in black. Black hair, too – a dye job – and black eyeliner. Not my style, but it nicely emphasized the terror in his eyes as I shoved the gun in his face.

‘Sh-sh-shit, man, you killed Donny,’ he exclaimed, somewhat unnecessarily.

I moved the conversation on. ‘You’ve got precisely five seconds to tell me everything you know about Robert Gundersen. Start talking or I’ll hurt you so bad it’ll make what Donny got look like a trip to Disneyland.’

He paused for long enough that I started thinking about which finger to bust first, then blurted out: ‘I just sold him the stuff, man, the shit was right, he just couldn’t take it. Little fuckin’ crybaby. I told him, in a few weeks’ time, none of it’s going to mean a thing, after The Reshuffle we …’

He stopped, clasping his hand to his mouth, which I took as a clear sign that there was more to say. I gave him a close-up of my .44.

‘What’s your name, kid?’

‘B-Boz. Boz Pogue. Please, man, don’t kill me. I was just doing what The Mistress told me!’

Figured a dame would be mixed up in it somewhere. ‘I don’t like you, Boz, and I don’t like your business. What kind of muck are you peddling, huh?’

‘P-pills, in my pocket. I swear, it’s nothing bad.’

I’d be the judge of that. I reached into his pocket. The baggie was slightly sticky, and filled with pills that were embossed with some kind of symbol; looked like a jar. It wasn’t anything I recognized, and I wasn’t about to try them out.

‘Spill,’ I snarled.

‘It’s just something to take the edge off,’ the low-life whined. ‘Ya know, when you just wanna stop caring so much …’

He stopped talking as I shoved him against the wall. I knew what he meant now, and I was pissed. Port D’Angerous had been buzzing with talk of this new narcotic; I’d never guessed it had reached Spatula. Guess you learn something new every day, even when the news is bad – and, given the number of pills in my hand, the news was about as bad as it got.

I was holding roughly a grand’s worth of pure, pharmaceutical-grade Emo. Very heavy shit. It wasn’t the same as other drugs; it didn’t mellow you out or ‘take the pain away’ – not yours, anyway. Instead, it took everyone else’s pain away, made you feel like you were the center of the universe, the only person whose emotions had any meaning. At the same time, there was this amazing, transcendental sense of self-importance. I couldn’t guess why anyone would want to feel that way, but I’d never understood the appeal of heroin, soccer or Abba either, so maybe I just wasn’t the experimenting type.

‘Where’d you get the stuff, huh? Who’s your supplier?’

‘I dunno, I never met him! The Mistress set it up. They call him The Bear, that’s all I know.’

‘And where might I find this Bear character?’

‘Duh, man, where do you think bears keep their shit?’

I didn’t much like his tone, but at that point he rabbited, taking off at speed down the alley. Damned if I was going to let my only lead get away. I fired twice and he fell. Believe me, I didn’t like to ice the guy, but it was that or chase him, and I wasn’t wearing my running shoes. He was lying face up, still breathing, but from the look of it not for much longer.

‘Don’t … matter …’ he gasped out. ‘Death won’t … keep me down … for ever.’

I waited for any more backchat, but he was gone. I pocketed the baggie, and walked quickly back to the car, pondering his penultimate words. Where do bears keep their shit? Then it dawned on me. Where else? Time to check out the woods.

They must have been following me from the moment I’d left the alley. I had one hand on the door handle when I heard the footsteps coming up behind. Then there was a blinding pain behind my left ear, and I felt the pressing need to become better acquainted with the sidewalk. The gloom turned to black as I passed out.

*

I could hear a faint voice calling to me as if from a great distance. Its tone was demanding and far from friendly, so I decided to stay down in the dark where I was. A slap in the face changed my mind, and I hesitantly opened my eyes.

I was in what looked like a wooden cabin, with a fire burning in the hearth and an oil lamp flickering on the desk. My eyes didn’t respond well to the light, and I closed them again. The bump on the back of my head began to throb in sympathy. I heard a strange voice then, like that of a gruff, angry child.

‘So you’re awake, finally? You caused me plenty trouble, Mister Lump.’

I aimed my head where I thought the voice was coming from, and opened my eyes again. On the corner of the desk sat a small yellow bear, his muzzle contorted into an expression that was not at all cheerful. He was wearing a red shirt that rode up over his somewhat ample belly, and his short legs dangled halfway to the floor. Either Mrs. Lump raised dumb kids, or this was The Bear.

I took a moment to assess the situation before responding. One wall of the cabin was covered with shelving, and the shelves were filled with row upon row of honey jars. I couldn’t see any doors – they must be behind me. As for yours truly, I was tied to a wooden chair with my hands behind my back, so I was going to have to talk my way out of this one. Here goes nothing.

‘Well, Mr. Bear, I can only apologize, I’m sure I never meant to—’

‘Stow it, you lousy shamus. I’m all set up with a sweet deal, see? I’m getting the Emo for next to nuthin’, and selling it for more honey than you ever saw in your life. The kids want it, and I got it. All I got to do is make sure they stay hooked for a few more weeks. And no stupid flatfoot is going to put the kibosh on it, see? We took care of Gundersen, Mr. Lump, so don’t you bother about him.’

‘Well, in that case my investigation is as good as over – I’ll just go and tell Mrs. Gundersen that her son skipped town, and we’ll say no more about it. How about that?’

He waved his paw in my face angrily. ‘You think I’m stupid or something, you sneaky punk? It ain’t that simple no more, see? You killed my dealers, and you took my stuff. The Mistress didn’t like that one bit. She didn’t like that, and she doesn’t like you.’

He leaned closer, and his jaws parted in a conspiratorial grin. ‘In fact, she told me to ice ya, waddaya think about that, shamus?’

I thought that sounded mighty unpleasant, but I didn’t count myself out of the running just yet. If I was going to go, I was going to have my say first. I leaned back in the chair to meet The Bear’s gaze head on.

‘I think that you and your boss can cram it up your ass, short-stuff. I know all about your drugs and how they mess up the lives of innocent kids who just wanted to spend a little time wallowing in their misery. Sure, you’re making plenty of dough, but how much honey can one bear eat? You’re plenty tubby already, if you ask me. Go ahead and ice me if you gotta, I’d die a hundred times to protect kids like my daughter Heffa from twisted little freaks like you.’

That seemed to hit him where it hurt. He recoiled in shock as if I’d actually socked him one.

‘Heffa? Heffa Lump?’ He leaped up onto the desk and screamed at the top of his strange little voice. ‘I told them, I told them she was real, but they didn’t believe me!’

He started to laugh in triumph, and I saw my opportunity. I raised my legs to brace myself against the desk. With my right foot I kicked out at The Bear, sending him and the oil lamp tumbling from the desk. At the same time, I pushed back with my left leg, and my chair crashed backwards to the floor. The thing must have been fifty years old if it was a day, and it broke apart just like I’d figured it would.

I could feel heat on my face. The oil lamp had smashed and set the cabin’s musty rug on fire. The flames cut the room in two, and I could see The Bear on the other side, waddling over to the shelves that contained his precious honey jars. He lifted one, but then didn’t seem to know what to do with it. He looked around for an exit, and finding none, hefted the jar at me.

‘Damn you, Chump Lump, you couldn’t let a bear make a little honey, could ya? It ain’t fair, all I ever wanted to be was a grown-up character!’

‘Well, congratulations, then,’ I shouted back. ‘You made it. This is what happens to the bad guys in adult fiction!’

The flames were forcing me back towards the door. If I was going to get out of here, it had to be now. The Bear’s fur was starting to singe and smolder, but before I lost sight of him in the smoke and flames, I swear I saw a hint of a contented smile spread across his yellow muzzle.

Safely outside, I slumped to the ground to catch my breath, and stayed to watch the cabin burn until the roof caved in. No one was coming out of there. As far away from town as we were, the smoke had surely alerted the authorities, so best if I wasn’t around when they showed up. Looked like Lady Luck had smiled on me just this once – my car was parked at the edge of the clearing, and I dragged myself into the driver’s seat.

The clock in the car told me it was late afternoon now; I’d been unconscious for most of the day. I drove back into town, not sure of the route, but following whichever trails led downhill until eventually I hit the highway.

It had been a long and mostly baffling thirty-six hours, and I was looking forward to some well-earned downtime. I might not be any richer than I was yesterday, but at least the Emo ring was broken up for now, and no other kids would be ending up like little Bobby G.

That made me think about Heffa. I was proud that I’d made Spatula a bit safer for her – and proud of her, too. She was a good kid, bright and sensible and just as pretty as her faithless mother. After cheating death a few times since I last saw her, I figured I should take the opportunity to tell her how I felt – while I still could.

I pulled up outside the house and rushed inside, my heart brimming over with love for my only daughter. She was in the hall when I came in.

‘Heffa …’ I began, my voice on the edge of tears.

‘Oh, hi Dad!’ she said from the foot of the stairs. ‘There’s a casserole on the stove and the game’s just about to start on TV. I’ve got trigonometry homework to do in my room, see you tomorrow, bye!’

I stood alone in the hallway. Dames.

chapter 8

going deeper

After the magical night when Teddy had exposed himself to me completely, I had expected everything to change. I slept cheerily through the whole day and night following, my dreams full of slow-motion kisses, eye contact, and contact of other, more tangible things. Yet the day afterwards, Teddy didn’t show up to see me once! It was most perplexing, and not at all what I’d expected from someone who was totally my boyf now. By the evening I was disconsolate, and rather confused about why two days had passed in the space of a paragraph. Didn’t Stephfordy usually go into more detail about my inner pain?

The front door closed and Chump came in. He looked like he’d been in a fight, with a black eye and disheveled clothing, but frankly that was his own affair. My thoughts were far too full of Teddy to spare any for him.

‘Oh, hi Dad!’ I said. ‘There’s a casserole on the stove and the game’s just about to start on TV. I’ve got trigonometry homework to do in my room, see you tomorrow, bye!’

The part about homework was a total lie, of course; I had to go and stare out of the window and pine for my lover, but I was sure whatever Dad had to say to me couldn’t be that important.

First, though, I fixed myself a Martini in the living room. A good gal like me ain’t meant to drink, but sometimes even the best of us bend. It had been a funny kinda day – and I don’t mean funny ha ha.

I frowned. The mirror above the mantelpiece showed a Heffa I didn’t recognize, wearing dark red lipstick and a beret.

I appeared to have a cigarette holder in one hand, and a bitter, fragile expression. If I didn’t know better, I’d say I’d gone – well, kind of femme fatale. Had Teddy bitten me without me noticing? Or—

‘DAD!’

‘Yes, darling?’ Chump asked nervously, as he threw his fedora on the sofa.

‘Did you start narrating? How dare you! This is my story! Mine, mine, MINE!’ I stamped my foot emphatically, and felt my authorial voice return. ‘No wonder the past couple of days went so fast – you stole an entire chapter, didn’t you? What the heck, Dad? I could have spent that time with Teddy!’

‘I’m sorry, Heff, it didn’t look like you were doing very much, is all …’

‘You want me to do things? Fine, I’ll start doing things! I’ll dive off a cliff, how would you like that?’ I took another deep breath to continue explaining, reasonably and at high volume, just how hurtful and inconsiderate Chump had been, when all the air rushed out of me as strong arms lifted me up. ‘… Teddy?’

‘No matter how far you fall, I shall catch you,’ Teddy swore passionately. ‘Also, you should endeavor to inhale and exhale, and calm down; the adrenaline cannot be good for you. What if you were to suffer a heart attack and I was not there to turn you into a vampire?’

‘I thought you were avoiding me?’

‘Er, yes, I was, but then I heard your voice calling out and I knew all at once I had to be by your side.’

I gazed up at him – how caring and thoughtful he was!

Chump interrupted. ‘Weren’t you hiding behind the kitchen door? I could have sworn I saw you there, when you said “ssh” and waved me away, remember?’

‘No, you must have been mistaken, sir,’ Teddy growled politely round his fangs, his eyes flashing red. I frowned at my father. He was already a dick in one sense of the word; did he have to be the other kind, too? ‘I was merely calling in on Heffa to ascertain her continued well-being.’

‘Is there anything I should know about?’ Chump asked in a jocular way he probably thought was fatherly or something, the poor sap, as if paying for my food and everything entitled him to know the first thing about my life. I shook my head sadly at him, and beckoned Teddy into my chamber.

‘Are you sure this is proper?’ Teddy asked nervously, as he peered around my room. ‘I thought there were some things girls considered sacrosanct.’

I gazed in admiration at his rigid morality. ‘Teddy, you can enter my secret places anytime.’

He crossed the room before I could take a breath and held my throat in a tight, tender grip. ‘I apologize for my earlier actions. I was afraid of the hold you had over me. But it is no use resisting; the narrative demands that I be entirely devoted to you, and it has overpowered the last of my fears of intimacy. I shall never leave you alone; I never want to be parted from you again, not even when you sleep, not when you shower, or go to the toilet, or—’

‘Whoa,’ I managed, once I’d unpeeled his firm hands from around my neck, ‘some ground rules apply. I’m not sure watching girls in the shower is endearing, all right? And neither is watching them sleep.’

In a moment, my worry returned. Perhaps he was some sort of killer, secretly putting on women’s clothing and stabbing innocent young girls in showers. On the other hand … ‘Teddy, how do you feel about dressing up?’

‘I would be honored to accompany you to the end-of-year formal at the book’s climax,’ Teddy said, giving a small bow. ‘Actually, speaking of clothes, I brought you something to wear, I hope you like it.’

He drew an unexpectedly white and fluffy outfit from the bag he was holding. I was surprised; I’d definitely assumed it would be on the black leather side, like a motorcycle jacket or something.

‘It is made out of the purest cotton wool, to keep you safe when I am unable to be by your side.’

‘Thanks,’ I said and lovingly kept the comment about the likelihood of the cotton wool surviving in Spatula’s inclement atmosphere to myself, though perhaps it would come in useful should we ever have an argument. ‘Wow, I’m really tired all of a sudden. I think I’m going to go to bed now, I’ll just slip out of these constricting clothes very, very slowly while writhing around a little and then—’

‘All right, my darling, I shall leave you in peace,’ Teddy said, earnestly. ‘Do not fear, though, for I will be back the minute you are abed, lurking nearby while you slumber.’

And, with that, he slipped easily from the window and into the night. Something told me Teddy hadn’t entirely gotten over his intimacy issues, but I would just have to keep pounding away at him. Keeping that seductive image in my mind, I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.

*

I blinked, and the sun was rising over the woods. I blinked again and the sun was setting. I blinked again … there was definitely something strange going on. All these fast cuts weren’t normal.

‘Heffa,’ Teddy said, suddenly appearing beside me. ‘Thank God I found you. We’re going to be late!’

‘Late for what?’ I asked, as he drew me into his arms and carried me down the path.

‘Late for your party, silly,’ he said with caring disdain, and drew back some overhanging ivy with a flourish.

I surveyed the scene. There was nothing but a table with a bunch of dogs playing cards. Or something like dogs, anyway. I was a little disappointed, but then I realized – the eerie setting, the odd transitions, the surreal party guests – this was my first-ever dream sequence! How fascinating. I wondered what lessons and thematically relevant hints I was about to receive.

Sadly, all that happened was that one of the dogs giggled at me, and turned his cards over. ‘Trumps,’ it barked. ‘Trumps, Heffa, listen, trumps!’

‘Okaay,’ I said. ‘Trumps, whatever, I’ll try really hard to remember that.’ I was a little concerned that it would entirely slip my mind until something happened to prompt a recollection, but at least the foundations for a sudden epiphany had been laid.

The dog had something else to say. ‘By the way, we might not actually be dogs – take a look at the sky.’

I looked up. A full moon wobbled into view as if someone was hoisting it on strings. This dream sequence had very low production values; I’d definitely be registering a complaint.

Suddenly, the dog turned into Joe Cahontas. He announced triumphantly: ‘Hah, the queen of hearts is in my hand, I win.’

I was holding Joe’s hand. We were facing a funfair mirror, and I saw Joe’s reflection grinning in a wolf-like fashion. Beside him, there was a small, gray elephant on a piece of rope. I wondered if my subconscious was telling me I really was fat after all.

I heard a sinister hiss, and then Teddy was standing next to Joe, though his beautiful image cast no reflection in the twisted mirror. Teddy’s eyes were pure black, and his fangs glistened in the moonlight. Joe and Teddy stared at me hungrily. Then they went stiff: coiled and ready to feast.

I tried to cry out, but the only sound I could make was an ugly trumpeting noise. I shielded my eyes with my trunk as my killers pounced …

And then I woke up, and it was all a dream. I was really getting good at this narrative conventions thing; my teachers would be so proud.

‘Teddy, you’re not going to believe the dream I had,’ I exclaimed, and was about to spend at least two paragraphs explaining it, just to make sure the significant bits weren’t lost on anyone, when the cold silence dawned on me. The room was empty. Teddy had not kept his promise to guard me while I slept. Life was no longer worth living. How had my moment of perfect happiness come to this? I pressed my hand to my heart and prepared for a world without joy.

Then I saw the note on the pillow. ‘Gone to collect the car so I can drive you to school – also was getting a bit too tempted to rip your neck open and drain your blood … just kidding :)! Tidied up a bit for you. See you soon. Eternal brooding love, Teddy.’

Huh, vampires used emoticons. That was surprising. He had carefully drawn fangs onto his smiley face, though, just in case I’d forgotten what he was in the last few hours. I looked around to see what he’d tidied, and couldn’t believe my eyes. The room was dusted, all my books were alphabetized, there was a large display of roses on the desk … this was awesome, just what every girl dreamed of – Teddy really was a new man! I wondered if I could get him to cook Chump’s dinners, too; I was getting tired of all the whole-hearted and ungrudging drudgery I was doing.

I got up and showered – admiring the shining mirrors in the bathroom, the carefully folded towels, and the fresh fragrance of lilies hanging in the air. Then I went downstairs to get breakfast ready … only to find an omelet being kept warm in the oven. It was accompanied by another note from Teddy, reminding me to turn the gas off before eating, with a sweet drawing of a girl setting herself on fire by accident, just to make doubly sure I understood.

This relationship thing was going to be so cool. I was particularly excited about the awesome news that I’d never need to get on the terrible bus ever again; transport to school was a good first step, and I was sure he’d be taking me all sorts of other places in no time. Also, it was a relief not to eat another frickin’ casserole; looked like Stephfordy had finally finished reading a recipe book.

True to his word, Teddy was waiting outside the house as I finished breakfast. ‘I’m sorry I was not there when you awoke,’ he greeted me as I skipped down the path to his car. ‘I feared I was disturbing your rest. You kept asking me to give you something? Something harder? Perhaps you were dreaming about math.’

He started driving, careful to remain at the recommended speed limit, in case going any faster caused the wind to bruise my delicate skin. I told him all about my dream, and then the conversation passed on to other matters; I won’t bore you with the details, but suffice it to say we had everything in common and all those things were unusual and really deep.

Just before we got to school, Teddy turned to me to declare his love once more. ‘You’re the first person I’ve ever encountered whose adolescent petulance is matched only by their middle-aged sensibilities,’ he confessed. ‘I think I’d die if I lost you!’

‘You’ll never lose me,’ I promised. After all, he had insisted on giving me a bracelet with a GPS tracking chip only that morning.

We pulled into the Academy parking lot and Teddy jumped out of the car, picking me up in his manly arms. I melted into his chest and ignored the funny looks other people were giving us. If my boyfriend wanted to spare me from the terrible dangers associated with walking, then surely that was entirely our own affair.

Teddy reached into the car and pulled out a bullhorn. ‘Coming through,’ he announced into the milling crowd of students as we made our way to class. ‘Avaunt! Avaunt! Heffa Lump is in the building, make way for Heffa!’

For a moment, I thought I was still dreaming – here I was, pressed against the perfection of Teddy Kelledy’s taut, tight body, and everyone in the world was moving out of the way for me. But this wasn’t some kind of teenage wish fulfillment; this was real. I was adored by the hottest guy in class, he was a superhero, and he was devoted to my every whim. This was almost unbelievable, but I planned to revel in every minute of it. If he could just get into a duel over my honor, my romantic vision would be complete, and I’d definitely beat Julian or whatever her name was in the heroine-for-all-ages stakes.

Only too soon we were at the classroom door, and my heart sank. How was I supposed to focus on verisimilitude lessons when I could be thinking about the eternity of love Teddy and I would have together?

‘I’ll see you in an hour,’ Teddy swore. ‘Just a little hour, not too long.’

‘I’ll wait for you, darling—’

Mr. Fallacy cleared his throat. ‘If you’ve quite finished?’

‘Look after my angel,’ Teddy instructed him sternly, ‘otherwise you will find yourself feeling strangely anemic, on account of not having any blood left. Oh, and Heffa is going to get an A for this class or I’ll have something to savagely murder, I mean say, about it.’

Mr. Fallacy blinked, but stepped aside without comment. Here was yet another advantage to having a ferocious monster as my one true love; he could threaten all of my teachers into passing me! It might have been taking advantage of his too sweet, kind, generous nature, but I knew he would do anything for me, and I for him …

For the rest of the morning, Teddy was waiting to accompany me from class to class, so it came as something of a shock when I was sent out of Gym early (it was hardly my fault that the shot puts were so slippery, and I was sure Rudy’s foot would be fine) and he was not there for me. I’d just started to trust that at last there was one person in all the world wholly committed to me, so it was a cruel disappointment. In a daze, I wandered mournfully, disconsolately and adverbially along the corridor.

Someone was loitering by the door to the basement. ‘Pills? Powders? Wolfsbane? You want it, we got it,’ he muttered as I passed. ‘Wait – Heffa, right?’

‘Joe Cahontas,’ I said. He’d gotten taller and hairier again since I’d last seen him in the park, but he still had that puppyish, eager-to-please expression. He’d be the perfect person to distract me from my pain until Teddy showed up again. ‘How’s The Protection Racket going?’

‘Still racketing away,’ he said. ‘Hey, you look stressed, want something to calm you down?’

‘I’m not sure,’ I said. ‘It’s nothing illegal, is it?’

‘One hundred per cent herbal and natural. Trust me, it’s practically medicine.’

I went down with him to the basement. He swiftly hid a stack of Wolf Whistle magazines behind the door, together with what looked like a Native American peace pipe with a bowl at the end. Interested in nature, anthropology, and keeping things tidy for me – he was such a thoughtful boy.

‘So, what are you guys working on?’ I asked. I didn’t particularly care, but I figured making conversation would help pass the time and ease the gaping wound of Teddy’s absence. Also, if I kept him talking, he might forget to make me pay for the herbal medicine, which looked a lot like a chocolate brownie to me anyway. I bit into it nonetheless, wanting to show willing.

‘Oh, not much. Just some top-secret lupine stuff I can’t talk about.’

Joe looked a little shifty, I thought. It was worrying. I could only handle one strange and secretive man in my life; I’d earmarked Joe to provide an ironic counterpoint, and maybe also a fallback option in the unlikely event that Teddy ever mysteriously vanished.

‘Lupine stuff? Do you have lupus? Gee, my dad was right about you, you are all good-for-nothing, layabout, flea-bitten, mangy curs.’

Joe looked alarmed. ‘Heffa, it’s a secret. I can’t tell you about what happens to us at the full moon, the rest of my pack would kill me.’

‘Full moon? What?’ I was really confused now. Joe scratched at the hairs on the palms of his hands and panted a little. Something about all this was starting to seem really familiar, but I wasn’t sure why.

Joe leaned closer to me and whispered, ‘Come on – hair, full moon, pack, lupine, haven’t you read Harry Potter? Sounds like … bear wolves?’

It dawned on me in a rush, and I couldn’t believe I hadn’t figured it out before, when it was obvious to everyone who’d read the dream sequence earlier. ‘Oh Lord, you’re a werewolf!’

It was so strange. Vampires and werewolves in Spatula? Surely after Van Helsing and Underworld people had learned their lesson about combining them: the result was always dire.

‘Oh, gee, Heffa, it’s no good, you’re too sharp, you’ve figured it out!’ Joe said with mock annoyance. ‘Seriously, I’m so glad you know,’ he went on more quietly. ‘I hated lying to you, not that I’ve ever spoken to you, but I’ve hated lying to you in my heart while staring at you across the canteen. You’re so lovely.’

‘Oh, Joe, you know we can never be more than friends,’ I sighed. ‘I have a far superior boyfriend, and frankly you’re just a bit too blue-collar for someone as special as me.’ It was so hard being instantly attractive. I had hoped Joe might have been an exception, someone who just treated me as a friend, or at least didn’t make it so pathetically obvious that I was the most exciting and interesting person who had ever spoken to him.

‘Don’t worry,’ Joe hastened to reassure me as he bit back manly tears of disappointment. ‘I have a stiffie – I mean a stiff upper lip – I mean I’m totally stoic. I’m fine just waiting around until you need someone to provide some exposition or listen to you bemoan your existence or rip someone to shreds.’

‘Aw, that’s so lovely of you.’ If he was happy to be a spare wheel for my love bicycle, who was I to argue? I’d just have to throw him the occasional bone – a bit of eyelash batting, some patting on the back, and, since he was a werewolf, maybe even some actual bones. Though from the look of him, he already had one stashed in his jeans for later.

I was actually a little sad when the bell went for lunch. Joe was great to hang around with, and the white pills and brownies he’d given me were awesome. Natural remedies were brilliant. I didn’t feel tense at all now. In fact, I felt really relaxed, and the world was awesome too, and kind of covered in rainbows. Who needed possessions and rules and stuff like that? All I needed was love. Well, love, and maybe some money. The pills weren’t cheap.

We leaned on each other going up the stairs, since for some reason my legs were a bit wobbly, so when Teddy suddenly appeared and yanked Joe away from me, I almost fell over. ‘Hey!’

‘I cannot believe you would stoop so low,’ Teddy scowled at me, and I felt my heart break. Teddy was scowling at me, he hated me, how could I have been so foolish as to think for one moment that any of this was real?

‘What business is it of yours, Teddy Kelledy?’ Joe asked.

‘Who asked you, Joe Cahontas?’

‘You’re not the boss of Heffa, Teddy Kelledy.’

‘Well, neither are you, Joe Cahontas.’

I watched, fascinated. Suddenly, I realized: Teddy didn’t hate me, he was just insanely jealous that I was with another man! Just like boyfriends should be – he did care for me, after all. And what with the full names, the testosterone, and the bulging muscles, maybe they were actually going to have a duel!

‘Guys,’ I said, quietly, ‘you don’t need to fight over little ol’ me. You know, unless you really want to …’

‘It is not just about you, Heffa,’ Teddy snapped. ‘His father owes my father five hundred dollars for their last meat bill.’

‘The meat was rotten,’ Joe rejoined.

‘Good enough for dogs,’ Teddy said meanly.

I fanned myself. This was really dramatic; there was a family feud, two men in love with one woman … all the elements of a long-running soap opera or an Isabel Allende book. I made a mental note to talk Professor Telenovela into letting me graduate his ‘Melodrama’ class early. If he said no, I was sure Teddy would rip his arms off for me.

‘I’m not going to fight you,’ Joe said. ‘I don’t want to upset Heffa. Anyway, it won’t matter once The Reshuffle happens, you and your chiseling family will be dust.’

Darn, I thought, cursing his earthy, low-class nobility. Watching them wrestle would have been brilliant, especially if they were naked, which I was sure I’d have managed to arrange somehow. I wondered what The Reshuffle was, it sounded vaguely familiar, but it was probably just some male thing I didn’t need to worry myself about.

‘Are you all right, Heffa?’ Teddy asked me once Joe had left. ‘He didn’t bruise you with his clumsy paws and bad manners?’

‘I’m fine,’ I said. ‘Joe’s an okay kid, but he can’t hold a candle to the flaming fire of what I feel for you. Honestly, you don’t need to doubt me, I will be yours forever, or at least until someone better comes along. But that’s not likely.’

‘I just want to keep you safe,’ he muttered. ‘It is already dangerous for you to be around me, the least I can do is make sure nothing else harms you.’

Teddy took my arm and we strolled down the corridor together.

‘Nothing will ever come between us,’ I reminded him. ‘We have all the time in the world.’ My mind drifted into a reverie, years and years of waking up with Teddy, of him watching out for me, with his large horn and his strong arms. I shook myself out of it as we sat side by side on a bench by the school entrance. ‘Maybe for now we should take it slow, I don’t want to rush into anything. Maybe just some oral to begin with.’

‘Just talking?’

‘Yeah, or that.’ I smiled up at him. It was probably a good idea to get to know each other, likes and dislikes and so on, before we moved our relationship forward, since we hadn’t really spoken about anything other than his vampire problem and our deep feelings. ‘So, tell me, what’s your favorite position?’

‘I do not really care for baseball, but I have always fancied myself a good catcher,’ Teddy said. He leaned into me and frowned prettily at all the other students who were daring to cross my line of vision. I realized getting to know each other was going to take longer than I’d thought. Nevertheless, we still had pages and pages to go, so that was fine. ‘I want to know everything about you, Heffa, everything about your special, fragile, breakable soul. I have no idea where to start. What’s your favorite ice-cream flavor?’

I had to confess I was expecting something more profound; it seemed a bit abrupt to go from soulmates, death and danger to my preferred type of dairy product. But then I had skipped ‘Romantic Dialog’, after all; perhaps this was how these conversations should go. ‘Anything but vanilla. What are your hobbies?’

‘Apart from hunting, fantasizing about biting into your tender lily of a neck and taking pictures of you for my collection, I write poetry and contemplate the agonies of existence. Who’s your favorite writer?’

‘Sylvia Plath, Virginia Woolf, Emily Brontë – they really speak to me as a sensitive woman, you know? Plus, there’s this autobiography by some woman called “O” which was pretty inspiring.’

I gazed yearningly into his eyes some more, while we both collected our thoughts. This question-and-answer session was amazing. I was getting such an insight into his deep, thoughtful nature, and he into mine. I wished that it would go on for at least three chapters.

‘I’m usually better with being the silent, strong type,’ Teddy confessed, ‘but with you there seems to be no end to the questions I wish to ask. Do you prefer Coca-Cola or Pepsi?’

‘Pepsi; I always go for the less obvious choice, it’s part of what makes me so intriguing. What’s your favorite film?’

‘Psycho and American Psycho are both great,’ Teddy said, looking wistful. ‘And Deranged was pretty good, too. What’s yours?’

‘Interview with the Vampire,’ I smiled teasingly at him, and then frowned at a sound on the breeze that was interrupting my concentration. ‘Hey, can you hear that?’

‘What? Sorry, what did you say?’ Teddy spoke up, but the noise of lush strings was beginning to drown out his voice.

‘Can you hear that music?’ I yelled, but Teddy just shook his head in confusion as the incidental background score grew louder around us. He seemed to be growing murkier, more indistinct.

For a moment, I panicked, but then I realized what was going on. Stephfordy Mayo had cruelly decided to cut short our conversation by covering it with the soundtrack and fading into a new scene. I couldn’t believe her nerve. Just when Teddy and I finally had a chance to connect, to find out every last detail about each other, to discuss whether he’d be able to sneak into my bedroom after dark to explore our inner natures, she had decided that our conversation was skippable. I knew I would never recover from the insult.

On the other hand, jumping to a later scene would bring the moment of consummation ever closer, so perhaps it wasn’t that bad to get on with things. I lay back and abandoned myself to the camera’s slow withdrawal.

chapter 9

eating out

‘That was the best week of my life!’ I said precisely a week later, as I stared down from the pinnacle of Spatula’s only phone mast. Teddy was perched atop it, and I was clinging to him. I’d thought he’d meant something different when he’d announced he was ‘taking me to heights I’d never known before’, and the view was hardly inspiring, but it gave me a warm feeling to know I was literally looking down on everyone else in town.

It’s a shame that the fast-paced whirlwind of this narrative won’t allow me to go into detail about the many things we did that week, the jokes we shared, the hours of scintillating discourse, but you’ll just have to take my word for it. Teddy and I were soulmates, and that was all there was to it. I’d even had several thoughts that were solely about him. My maturity was increasing by the hour.

‘I’ve been thinking,’ Teddy commented. His cherubic face was solemn and still like a carved statue on a cathedral – not a gargoyle, though, an angelic one. ‘I’ve spent a long time contemplating this moment, and I think it’s time. I have to ask.’

I closed my eyes. Was it finally time for him to pop the question? Or other things? I clutched tighter to his strong thighs and waited.

‘Will you have dinner with my family?’ he blurted out.

I was so excited that I couldn’t speak. I was sure Teddy’s family had totally classy evenings out, and it was a sign they wanted me included! Soon I would be able to abandon my own, sadly Z-list background and join the world of the stars.

Teddy must have interpreted my silence as reluctance, however, for he went on: ‘I’m aware it’s a rite of passage, it says so in all the Judy Blume books, but I feel we’re ready to take that step.’

I put aside thoughts of other sorts of passages things might pass through. ‘I would love to dine with your family – as long as no one eats me!’ I blinked hopefully at him, but he merely slid us down the large pole.

I knew his family was important to him – though less important than me, obviously – so I would do my best to be kind to them. Of course, once Teddy turned me into a vampire, we’d all be one big happy family anyway. They were bound to like me, I was so self-sacrificing I was practically standing at an open window in a white nightdress.

Teddy drove us out of Spatula on the ‘All Other Destinations’ route that wound up the side of the hills. I wasn’t sure which restaurant we were going to, but I had no doubt it would be chic and elegant, the closest thing Spatula could get to a Michelin-starred joint.

Oh, this was going to be wonderful. I’d always imagined myself holding forth wittily at a large, round table, while advising my dining companions on which wines would complement their meals and having one of my many admirers pick up the bill. And now, at last, I was about to enter into that world. I’d seen Pretty Woman, so the many types of cutlery held no terror for me.

We turned off the main road and pulled into a parking lot in front of a large, squat, fake-stone building. I stared. A big banner announced ‘Ye Olde Worlde – Historic Figures, Epic Ribs, Legendary Fun’, and next to it an animatronic George Washington quaffed a tankard of ale with an astronaut and a gladiator. Another sign beneath read: ‘2nite Only – All U Can Eat 4 $10!!!!’

The neon, the multiple exclamation marks and the plastic signs all suddenly added up. This wasn’t trendily ironic, this was just tacky! I glared in horror at Teddy. Had I misjudged him all this time? Was he as backward and lame as other boys my age? ‘How could you bring me here?’ I asked.

‘It’s my father’s favorite restaurant,’ Teddy sighed, as he wrenched my hands away from the seatbelt and helped me out of the car. ‘It’s English night tonight, he says the spotted dick reminds him of home.’

We were met at the door by a man in a false beard, stovepipe hat and frock coat, who cleared his throat and announced: ‘Fourscore and seven months ago, Big Dirk the Innkeeper liberated us from high prices and poor quality food. We bid you welcome, strangers!’

Teddy nodded at him with the gracious pity that so shone in his soul, and we pushed our way past the Lincoln-a-like, a Roosevelt struggling to balance a tray of drinks on his wheelchair, two Elvises and a Marilyn Monroe, who pouted and smiled at Teddy, the shameless hussy. I clasped his arm tighter to make sure everyone knew he was mine, and we entered the English room.

The carpet here was tartan, pictures of Queen Victoria covered the walls, and the whole room reeked of fog, bad dentistry and quiet despair. Henry VIII attempted a booming laugh at our entrance, but choked midway through and stomped off, readjusting the pillow stuffed under his jerkin and checking the time on his wristwatch as he did so. I hadn’t seen this many anachronisms since Braveheart.

In one corner of the room, Joseph, Jack and Bobbi Kelledy were already sitting at a table.

‘Bobbi, Jack, Father – you all know Heffa, my soulmate,’ Teddy introduced me, helping me into my chair and tucking my napkin into my sweatshirt.

‘Yeah, it’s not like you talk about anything else,’ Bobbi said, smiling at me in a way that managed to be both perky and maniacal, before returning her attention to some sort of rectangular, shiny piece of technology she was holding, tapping at it furiously.

Beside her, Jack grinned shyly, and then continued to color in his placemat, tongue poking out the side of his mouth. I realized I’d never really spoken to Jack; in fact, I’d rarely seen him do anything but look constipated – all that red meat probably did do strange things to the bowels.

‘Please forgive my children,’ Joseph Kelledy said smoothly. ‘Jack’s sadly lacking in character. He’s failing the Academy, he can’t even master the “gormless but loyal sidekick” roles. And Bobbi never looks up from her next-generation cell (with Internet access and other such “apps” that has a snappy name I won’t mention for fear of the drama losing its timeless appeal).’

I frowned. ‘What’s a cell?’ I asked, looking round nervously in case it suddenly turned out that we were in some sort of dungeon where Teddy and the others would have their evil way with me, despite my protestations. Which would, of course, be a terrible thing to happen.

‘A cell? A mobile phone you carry around with you?’ Bobbi explained, rolling her eyes.

I had never heard of such a thing. How many times might conflict be resolved and a dangerous moment avoided if only I had one of those? I supposed if I did have one Stephfordy might really struggle to make the plot work, though, so perhaps best not.

Joseph simply glared at his daughter. ‘Please would you put that unfiendish contraption away?’

‘But Da-ad, if I don’t keep refreshing Stawker, how will I know what’s going on?’ Bobbi whined. ‘Stawker’s the juiciest celebrity vampire gossip site in the whole blogosphere. Undead socialite Pierce Biltong always has the inside scoop on everything.’

This all sounded most intriguing, surely here was a way to name-drop current Internet obsessions so I could sound relevant and trendy, but sadly we were interrupted by Jack, who looked up from the menu, brow wrinkled in concentration.

‘I … bin … a hamburger!’ he announced proudly.

We sat in silence for a moment. The Kelledys were fascinating, beautiful, intelligent and endlessly sophisticated, just as I deserved. Well, Teddy was, anyway, and I was certain that between us we could iron out any little discrepancies with the others.

At that moment, Joseph Kelledy leaned over and proved his gentlemanly credentials by murmuring softly, ‘So, Heffa, tell us about yourself.’

Two courses later, I’d just about covered the highlights of my life so far and decided, as a gracious guest, that it was time to let them share the spotlight for a little while. ‘Being a vampire must be so cool. How did it happen to you, and when are you going to do it to me?’

Joseph Kelledy rudely ignored the second part of the question and settled back into his seat. ‘Well I remember the dread day,’ he spake. ‘Henry VIII was on the throne. You could buy a slap-up meal for half a groat. Times were hard, but fair—’

‘Tell Heffa about me, Father!’ Bobbi interjected. Clearly Joseph was going to go on at some length otherwise; some people were such attention hogs.

‘Ah, yes, well, one day in 1927, I happened to be walking through a small town, late at night, after feasting on – I mean with – some succulent showgirls, when I saw this poor lost soul running towards the railroad tracks. In the distance, I could hear the chug of an oncoming train. I sped to her, and lucky I did, for at that moment she tripped and fell, stubbing her toe. It seemed like a mortal wound, so I had to do something.’

‘So he turned me into a vampire,’ Bobbi said cheerily. ‘Funny, really, I was only running because I was late for work.’

‘Teddy here was dying of pneumonia—’

‘I blew my nose at a bus stop,’ Teddy muttered into my ear.

‘And Jack had the Dreadful Poxulous Lurgy,’ Joseph finished.

‘Father, you know full well that doesn’t exist,’ Bobbi sighed.

A waitress dressed as Queen Elizabeth I came to clear our plates and serve coffee. Joseph stared after her wistfully. ‘What that woman could do with a potato,’ he murmured. ‘I remember, one time, she and Raleigh and I—’

I cleared my throat before he could embark upon any more dreary reminiscences. I wanted to preserve the notion that Teddy’s family were exemplars of virtue, despite all the weird things they’d clearly got up to in the past. ‘So what you’re saying is, you murdered them and turned them all into vampires because you felt like it?’

Joseph shrugged. ‘I gave up drinking blood in St Petersburg; I thought it was time for a change. I had to do something to occupy myself.’

I gazed at him in admiration. ‘That is so awesomely selfish – I mean selfless – of you! And they didn’t mind? No, wait, why should they mind when you don’t have to drink blood or kill anyone, and you can go out in daylight and you live forever and there are basically zero drawbacks? Did I mention you can do it to me? You can totally do it to me too! And then Teddy and I can be together forever and ever like we’ve always wanted since last Friday.’

Teddy looked sadly at me like a tortured hero, rather like the portrait of Byron behind him, in fact. Byron must totally have ripped off his style. ‘It’s not that simple. You see, we have to introduce some tenuous problem so we can spin out the will-they-won’t-they drama. Not all vampires are as restrained as we are with our only occasional urge to slaughter. And, in any case, we are all damned, cursed with membership of a dreaded culture.’

‘What, Eurotrash?’

‘No, Heffa – goths!’ I remembered the crowd that had accosted us, their pale make-up, terrible hair and grasping, lace-covered fingers, and shuddered. Teddy went on, ‘We were all goths. We have all lost our Eternal Cool, and are cursed to be petulant teenagers moping around for all eternity. That’s why we’re at the Academy. If we try really hard, maybe one day we can learn to grow up a little.’

Suddenly, it all made sense. ‘So that’s why you go to school! It did seem a bit pointless. If I was a vampire, I totally wouldn’t bother studying, I’d just hang around and do what I liked.’

‘Oh, you can get into all sorts of trouble if you do that; people find it very suspicious, and send out child services,’ Joseph said.

‘Really?’

‘No, not really. Father just likes us to go to school or have jobs so we can make friends,’ Bobbi sighed.

I was confused; as far as I could tell, they made no attempt to fit in or even talk to anyone, so why bother? My bewilderment must have been obvious, for Teddy leaned over and whispered in my ear: ‘The problem is, our friends often end up behind the back of the butcher’s shop, mysteriously drained of blood.’

‘How awful! Do your enemies do that to hurt you?’ I wondered aloud.

Bobbi choked on her triple espresso, and as Jack thumped her enthusiastically on the back, I considered the situation I found myself in. Did I really want to be a vampire? Was even eternal life worth the sacrifice of losing your Eternal Cool? On the whole, I figured probably yes. I mean, duh, who wouldn’t if that was the choice?

Charles Dickens came and took our cups away. ‘Ah, London in the fog,’ Joseph orated, ‘so many orphans unmissed, night birds nobody would bother about if they were found inexplicably eviscerated. Of course, this was before the police. I remember, one night, D’Arcy D’Acula and I cornered this darling little—’

Teddy coughed loudly. Bobbi yawned, ‘Yes, Father, we know the story, blood was in the air that night. Can’t you quit living in the past for one gosh-darned minute? Let’s get out of here. There’s going to be a firework display tonight, we can play a game.’

‘How do you know?’ I asked. I couldn’t recall any mention of a firework display anywhere.

Bobbi winked at me. ‘I Saw it,’ she whispered.

For a moment, I wondered what she could mean. It was so unfair that Teddy’s family weren’t even trying to involve me in their in-jokes and charming family anecdotes of bloodshed and death. Then I followed her pointing finger and saw it too: a large poster on the back wall that said, ‘Firework Display – Tonite!’

‘What sort of games do you play?’ I asked. ‘I know one you and I could try, Teddy, we’d just need some whipped cream, maybe a cucumber—’

‘Think, Heffa, what kind of game would be so noisy that we’d need fireworks to drown it out?’

I thought about it. Could he mean … with his family watching?! No, I was certain that my shy, tender, homicidally jealous Teddy would never be so crude. I searched my mind for ideas, but each seemed more ludicrous than the last. ‘Football? Basketball? Baseball?’

‘No, none of those, we play the ancient vampire bloodsport, as old as time itself – tiddlywinks!’ He swept me into his arms and, with his siblings on either side, we sped through the forest and up the mountainside to a large clearing overlooking all five visible streets of Spatula. The spotted dick turned uneasily inside me, and I was forced to sit down for a moment to catch my breath. ‘Of course, we used to use peasants for winks, but we gave that up years ago.’

Teddy retrieved four manhole covers from the edge of the clearing and stacked them carefully. Jack and Bobbi disappeared into the woods, and came back carrying an uprooted hardwood tree. Jack held one end, while Bobbi chopped at the other with her hand, slicing it into even rounds of wood.

‘It’s usually me and Jack against Bobbi and Joseph,’ Teddy explained. ‘Are you happy watching while we squidge off?’

I suddenly recalled that blushing was one of my favorite pastimes and reddened the attractive hue of sunset. ‘Actually, nothing would give me greater pleasure than watching you toss your squidgers.’

Teddy hurled a manhole cover to Joseph, and the game began as the first firework erupted into the Spatula night sky and showered golden sparks around us. The slam of each squidger thrust against a wink was like a gunshot, carefully timed to coincide with the rockets shooting into the air.

The game was exhilarating, and soon I was yawning in appreciation as Jack squopped Joseph’s wink, Bobbi subbed by accident and attempted a Bristol which fell flat, Teddy’s wink scrunged, and Joseph played a brilliant scrud. None of it meant much to me, but Stephfordy had spent ages on Wikipedia learning the rules, and was determined to put her newly acquired vocabulary to good use.

I was roused from my attentive slumber by Bobbi’s hand on my arm. Just as well, since I was having very strange thoughts about squidgers.

‘Someone’s coming!’ she said.

I looked around, but saw no sign of any coming, going, potting or indeed squidging. ‘Are you sure?’

‘I can See it … over there by the trees.’

I followed her gaze. Sure enough, under the ominous purple light of the fireworks, a gang of shuffling creatures was lumbering into the field. Their movements were strange, almost jerky: they would strut forward a few feet, then stop and shuffle back, then advance again, their arms held stiffly before them. They seemed to be chanting something, but their words were lost amid the bangs and sparkles.

‘Teddy,’ I cried out, ‘where in the blazes are you in my hour of need? Come and protect me right freakin’ now, my love!’

He was nowhere to be seen. He’d abandoned me! I clutched at Bobbi’s arm as she busily took pictures of the semi-human creatures lurching towards us, muttering something about how Biltong would totally slaughter for the snaps. The beasts’ slurred words were getting clearer above the fireworks and the rattling of the keychains and the heavy gold necklaces they wore: ‘Ains … gains … pains … brains!’

As one of them edged forward from the crowd, I realized it wasn’t only their baggy, low-slung pants hampering their movement. Their faces were gray, their skin sloughing off. Zombies! In Spatula! Now there were three supernatural forces at play here. Anyone would think we were living on the mouth of a hellhole or something.

I desperately tried to remember the information from the horror seminar – but to no avail. All I knew was that they were coming for me. They wanted brains and, not to blow my own trumpet, I knew very well that I was the only person in the vicinity who had any.

Then came the voice I had been waiting for: Teddy’s dulcet tones screaming a mighty war cry. About darn time, the zombies were mere hundreds of yards away. I was in mortal danger here and not from him; my honor as well as my life was at stake. How could he let some other creature of the night ravish me and bang my brains out?

With a great heave, Teddy tossed his squidger like a discus. It spun through the air and cut cleanly through the closest zombie’s neck, and the creature fell to the floor in a pool of medallions and green ichor. Bobbi yelped with excitement and joined her brother, tearing heads off left, right and center with swift chops of her manicured nails. Even Jack – after a few aborted attempts to bite the zombies, his siblings, and himself – got into the spirit of things and bashed their foul heads into the ground until the gray matter spilled out.

But my eyes were only on Teddy, as he stabbed and tore and slaughtered his way through the crowd, dripping with viscous ooze and fragments of flesh, his muscles rippling, his manly features twisted into a fierce, vibrant mask of rage. I was struck once more by how naturally violence came to him – I couldn’t wait to have that power unleashed upon my delicate form. As I fanned myself thinking about it, the last zombie fell and Teddy shook his torso free of splattered soft tissue and rushed to me. ‘Heffa, are you hurt?’

‘No, but I nearly was, how long did it take you to come to my aid? Call yourself a good boyfriend?’ I couldn’t believe for all his powers that he’d let me come just minutes away from harm. Did he not care for me at all? No, we’d had that anxiety already. No point constantly repeating it, it would only get boring. He was just a slowpoke.

‘We must leave at once,’ Teddy declared, ‘Heffa’s in danger! Father, you should travel west to throw them off the scent. Bobbi, get a dark wig and pretend to be Heffa; Jack, double back and go south to confuse them further; I shall hide in Heffa’s closet and come out only when exposed. Meanwhile, Heffa must travel to Argentina and change her name to Ethel to escape detection. And then Jack can pretend to be Heffa, change clothes and hairstyles with me, move to Belarus and become a miner!’

I looked upon him in admiration. Such a complex, involved and fundamentally silly plan couldn’t possibly go wrong, and was certain to be exciting.

Unfortunately, Joseph interjected just as Teddy was drawing maps on the floor for Jack. ‘All of our attackers are dead, Teddy. I know you’re a little highly strung, but there’s no one to protect Heffa from. Why don’t we just finish the game before the fireworks stop and the corpses start to smell even worse?’

‘I cannot; I must escort my darling safely home. Anyway, none of the winks are in the same place any more, so it would be impossible to recreate the game. Let’s just call it a draw.’ How noble and fair-minded he was, to agree upon a draw right as he was on the verge of losing.

Bobbi grinned at me. ‘He hates accepting defeat,’ she told me, as Teddy turned to leave. I met her eyes and saw in them a kindred spirit: superficially friendly, but at heart judgmental and unforgiving. We had so much in common. I realized that Bobbi could be just like a sister to me; we could steal each other’s clothes and boyfriends and pretend to adore each other.

I knew then, once and for all, that my future lay with the Kelledys. Maybe my mom and dad would be a little disappointed to know I’d dumped them, but I was sure they’d get over it. Neither of them could keep a thought in their heads for longer than three seconds, and they’d never lived up to my high standards anyway. Whereas the Kelledys were modest, bitchy, vain … I would fit right in.

chapter 10

taken

My house was dark as Teddy pulled up outside. I guessed Chump must be off working a case. As I reached for the handle of the car door, Teddy grabbed my wrist.

‘I’m still worried, Heffa, and I don’t like leaving you here alone. I don’t know what those zombies wanted, but there could be more of them around. I think I should stay with you.’

I looked up at the dark house. Everything seemed normal enough: the wind chimes on the porch swayed in the breeze, and the evening paper lay on the path awaiting retrieval. I was still shaken by our encounter with the zombies (being undead is one thing, but did they have to be so gross about it?), but I also sensed an opportunity to demonstrate how well I reacted to adversity. I’d been criticized by Miss Shirley for ‘lacking gumption’ – well, fine, if she wanted to see gumption, I’d show her gumption. Whatever that is.

‘I’ll be fine, my love, honestly. Chump will be home soon, I’ll go inside and lock the door and wait for him. What could be safer?’

‘But the zombies were after you, specifically. What if we didn’t kill them all? What if they turn up here and I’m not around to protect you? I don’t think I could live if anything happened to you, Heffa. I know I’m not alive, technically, but even so.’

‘That’s so sweet of you, Teddy. I feel the same way; I’d die if we were ever parted. Look, you need to go back to help your family. You’re the cleverest and hunkiest of them all. They’re only supporting characters; they’ll never figure out what’s causing all this supernatural activity without you.’

His face betrayed his uncertainty, but he let go of my wrist. My skin was cool where he had been holding me. He opened the door for me. ‘I suppose you’re right, darling. It does seem quite unlikely that zombies would attack a remote house anyway; Mr. Wellbord says they prefer shopping malls. Maybe I’ll swing by there for a look on the way home.’

I kissed him on the cheek. ‘That’s the spirit, try to be proactive. Remember what Mr. McClane taught you in “Action Hero 101”.’

He nodded and shut the car door behind me. I stood on the porch and waved him goodbye as he drove off with what I think was supposed to be a look of steely determination on his face.

Once inside, I rushed upstairs to the bathroom. It had been another long day, and I wanted to make sure that the tiredness didn’t show on my face. Teddy said he loved me and I believed him, but there was no getting away from the age difference between us. I aged, and he didn’t. He was bound to start having second thoughts about us if my appearance slipped, if my eyes looked puffy or my forehead became wrinkled.

After an hour of making sure that I was as pale and interesting as ever, I changed into my sweats and lay on my bed, thinking about everything that had happened today. The Kelledys were an amazing family, they’d made me feel so welcome, and they’d told me so much about themselves. They obviously really understood the importance of my role as narrator. There was an odds-on chance that Joseph was utterly insane, but that didn’t matter. He was Teddy’s father, or father/murderer, and I knew so little about their world. Who was I to judge?

I wondered how long it would be before they realized that their ‘family’ could never be complete without me. I wasn’t much concerned by the prospect of losing my Eternal Cool, since becoming a vampire was the only way to make sure Teddy and I could be together forever. The Kelledys had seemed fairly lukewarm about the idea when I’d mentioned it at dinner, but I was sure they’d come around. I was the heroine of this story, after all.

I knew I’d make a great vampire – I could brood with the best of them, and I supposed that, if it were absolutely necessary, I might even be able to attempt to enunciate my utterances in the same stilted way that the Kelledys did. They could do with my help in the glamor stakes, too. Bobbi really wasn’t that attractive when you looked closely, it was all make-up. Honestly, I’d give myself at least two more points out of ten than her.

I started to plan the day it would happen. I’d be wearing a long black dress and Teddy would be standing there at the altar waiting for me. I’d walk up to him slowly, and lie down on the altar. He would climb on top of me then, and slowly his face would move towards mine. He parts his lips to show his fangs and I turn my head to one side, exposing my pale white neck to him. He moves closer and …

I heard a noise downstairs. Just my dad coming home, surely? Or Teddy? Or maybe something worse? Whoever it was, they’d ruined the mood. I’d just have to go down there and give them a piece of my mind.

I took my hand out from beneath the waistband of my sweats and wiped it on the sheets. I stood up, looking around for something I could use as a weapon. From my dressing table, I grabbed my hand mirror. It was a present from my mom and the handle and setting were made of solid silver. I knew it packed a punch since I’d used it a few times to explain to her why she needed to buy me all the other things I asked for.

I crept down the stairs as quietly as I could, mirror clutched tightly and held above my shoulder, ready to strike out at whatever zombies, next-door neighbors, or other horrors awaited me. How’s that for gumption, Miss Shirley? I thought to myself.

The hall at the bottom of the stairs was dark, but I could see light shining underneath the living-room door. That had definitely been off when I came in. I ruled out zombies; they probably wouldn’t waste time switching on the lights. I crept closer to the living-room door, calling out a tentative ‘Dad?’ as I grasped the door handle in my hand. No answer. I turned the handle, and burst into the room.

Everything was normal. A half-eaten bag of chips was on the floor by Dad’s favorite chair. The coffee table was covered in sports and gun magazines, and sat in its usual place on the rug that had been a wedding present from my mom’s parents. The TV remote was on the arm of the sofa where I’d left it, and the woman sitting on the sofa eyed me patiently as I surveyed the room.

Hold on a second – woman on the sofa, that wasn’t right. I looked closer. She was quite old, maybe late thirties. She was well-preserved, though. Her skin was pale, paler even than mine, and she wore a black dress which perfectly complemented her jet-black hair. I recognized the color of her lipstick as Midnight Torpor. She was sitting on the sofa in my living room like she belonged there, and something about her relaxed manner made me drop my guard. I lowered my hand-mirror cudgel and stepped further into the room.

She smiled. ‘Ah, you must be Heffa, how lovely to meet you. Do come and sit down.’ Her voice was like ice cubes tinkling in a cocktail glass.

I crossed the room and sat in my dad’s chair. A nagging voice at the back of my mind told me that something was deeply wrong here, but I felt so chilled out. I tried to focus.

‘What the heck are you doing in my living room, lady?’

‘I’ve come for you, Heffa. I’ve come to offer you the opportunity of a lifetime.’

Well, that sounded quite promising. I might as well hear her out before reaching for Chump’s samurai swords. ‘Go on then, spill it.’

‘I’m Ms Crabtree, and I teach at Winslet University. Perhaps you have heard of it?’

Winslet University! Had I ever! It was only the world’s most prestigious school of fictional education, there wasn’t a character alive who didn’t dream of studying there. A degree from Winslet was a virtual passport to literary glory. No matter how dumb the story you ended up in, you’d have a mantle full of awards before you could say ‘Rose DeWitt Bukater’. I nodded eagerly, and sat forward in my chair.

‘Heffa, you’ve learned all you can from Miss Shirley. Come with me and I’ll take you to Winslet this very night on a magic train, and you can start to fulfill your true destiny.’

What a great opportunity. It was what I’d been dreaming of since my very first picture book. I was on the verge of blurting out my agreement when that doubting voice piped up again. What sort of a university recruits students by breaking into their houses in the middle of the night? Something wasn’t quite right here. ‘Why are you here now, though? It’s a bit late to be filling in admissions forms.’

‘It’s simple; I heard that Streep were keen on recruiting you too, and I had to make sure I got to you first.’

‘Streep? Well, it is a good school …’

‘Don’t be ridiculous, do you really want to spend the next two years wearing a headscarf, perfecting a Belorussian accent? Or do you want to start racking up the five-star reviews? Come with me, Heffa, and I promise you, your sales figures will be so unfathomably enormous they’ll make the Bible’s look like those of Dick Cheney’s Guide to the Constitution.’

She was holding out a document wallet towards me. ‘Take the forms. We can be there before morning.’

It wouldn’t hurt to look at the forms, I supposed. I held out my hand. She smiled encouragingly. ‘Good, soon you’ll be safe with us, away from the damnable lure of those pathetic Kelledys.’

My outstretched arm went stiff. Teddy! How could I forget him so easily? Was I really that shallow? (Don’t answer that.)

Ms Crabtree held the leather folder perfectly still, staring expectantly at me. I looked down to break her gaze. On the coffee table between us was my hand mirror, and in the reflection I could see my hand reaching for the document wallet – which seemed to hang in the air, unsupported. I looked up and saw Ms Crabtree holding the folder in her slender white hand. I looked down: no hand. No reflection.

‘You’re a vampire!’

In an instant, she was on her feet, looming over the chair where I cowered. She smiled broadly, and her fangs flashed white at the sides of her black-lipped mouth.

‘Quite right, my laughable little Lump. I’m glad you noticed, actually. It means I get to do this—’

The last thing I saw was the leather document wallet rushing towards me, and as my world went black, I heard her laugh with sadistic glee.

The next thing I was aware of was a musty smell in my nostrils. I opened my eyes and saw that I was in some kind of large, dimly lit room with stone walls. What light there was came from a pair of filthy stained-glass windows on either side of the room. A church? The air was cold and damp. I must still be in Spatula.

As my eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, I saw people bustling about at the other end of the room, moving boxes. They were dressed in black, and the four-inch-high soles of their leather boots squeaked on the stone floor. Goths!

Panicking, I tried to move, but my arms and legs were held fast. I was tied to a chair with thick, black ropes. I struggled against my bonds, but only succeeded in drawing attention to myself.

‘Mistress, she’s awake,’ one of the goths observed.

I heard footsteps, and then Ms Crabtree was standing in front of me, arms crossed as she watched me squirm. Approaching from the other end of the room was a long-haired goth, whom I recognized as one of my attackers from the park, Boz. He seemed different now, though. His skin was paler and his stride was lithe and swift. He spoke to Crabtree: ‘You see, Mistress, she’s perfect. We should have her join us.’

Ms Crabtree hissed at him, and cuffed the back of his head with her palm. ‘Silence, you dolt. You’ve been a vampire for a week, and you presume to tell me what to do?’

He cowered. ‘No, Mistress, it’s just that I sense great power within her, and with The Reshuffle so close I thought …’

‘You thought? Idiot. Smell her.’

They came close then and Boz bent over me. He pressed his face against my neck and inhaled deeply. He was ice cold, not in the beautiful, smooth, creamy way that Teddy was, but painful, like when you get your tongue stuck on a Popsicle. I struggled to turn away from him.

‘I can smell sugar, and spice, and a bunch of other things nice,’ he leered at me, then pulled back.

‘Precisely. She smells good.’ This last was pronounced with utter disdain. ‘She’s spent too much time with the Kelledys to become one of us now. She’d be a pathetic vampire, just like they are. And when The Reshuffle comes, she’d drag us down with her.’

I’d had just about enough of this, trussed to a chair and being felt up like a piece of meat by someone other than Teddy. If my arms had been free, I’d have crossed them with indignation. Also, who was the narrator here? I had no idea what they were yammering on about. It was all too much.

‘Ms Crabtree, why am I tied to this chair? We’re wasting time – I want to get on the magic train and go to Winslet University, you promised!’ I sobbed.

She shook her head. ‘I’m afraid there won’t be any magical train rides for you this evening, Heffa. You haven’t completed the “Nefarious Doings” class yet, have you? Well, here’s a free lesson. The story about me being from Winslet, that’s what we villains like to call “a trick”.’

A trick? Huh, that seemed like a lousy thing to do. My experiences so far hadn’t prepared me for situations where characters’ motivations weren’t totally obvious and superficial. How dare she take advantage of me like that? ‘So, what do you really want with me?’ I asked sullenly.

She laughed, long and loud. ‘You? We don’t want you at all, Heffa. It’s your father we’re after. He’s become quite the thorn in our side, poking his nose into our business and messing up our Emo supply. We’re going to use you as bait to lure him here.’

Hang on a cockadoody minute! This was my story, but now I was reduced to playing the role of gosh-darned hostage? I’d already had to tell Dad off for narrating, no way was I going to sit here while he stole the glory by riding in and rescuing me. Or possibly being killed by the vampires. This was the final straw. ‘Damn you, Ms Crabtree, not my father! I won’t do it. Never!’

‘How very loyal you are. I thought you might feel that way – we’ll just have to convince you, won’t we? Boz!’

Boz rushed off behind me, returning a second later carrying a large boom box, which he set up on the edge of the altar to my left. He grinned at me, cranked the volume all the way up, and pressed play.

Instantly, I was assailed by a wall of screaming guitars and machine-gun drums. I could feel my ears trying to fold themselves inside out and retreat inside my skull for protection. My vision blurred as the clangorous din threatened to shake my eyeballs from their sockets. My head thrashed from side to side and my body twitched and convulsed in agony. Finally, after about twelve seconds, I could take no more. I screamed, hardly recognizing my own voice: ‘Okay, I’ll do it, just make it stop, please!’

The cacophony ceased, and Boz was holding one of those cell-phone thingies to my ear.

‘My Chemical Romance,’ he said smugly. ‘Works every time.’

The phone rang, and after a second I heard my father’s voice in my still-throbbing ear. My words came tumbling out. ‘Dad, thank God you’re there, I’ve been kidnapped! Help me, Dad, I think they’re going to kill me!’

There was a moment’s silence at the other end of the line, and then: ‘Gee, honey, that was swell, I can tell you’ve been practicing. I almost believed you. Not like when you used to phone me from your mom’s all the time, with your tall tales about her locking you in the cellar. Now you really sound convincing. The Academy is doing a fantastic job.’

Great. Try again. ‘No, Dad, I’m not acting. I really have been kidnapped. By vampires. They’re holed up in the old church on the edge of town, and they tortured me already. Come get me, please, who knows what they might do if you don’t!’

He chuckled. ‘Sure you have, darling, by vampires. Anyway, you have a nice day. I’ve got to go and help Mrs. Pierce, she thinks there’s some kind of big scary dog in the woods out the back of her property. I’ll see you later for casserole. Bye!’ And then he hung up.

‘Is he coming?’ demanded the vampire who called herself Crabtree.

‘Um, not so much, actually,’ I mumbled sheepishly.

‘Gah, you’re even more useless than your pathetic friends the Kelledys. I don’t know why Stephfordy even bothered with this ridiculous plan. Phone calls, kidnappings … is everyone in this stupid town so dumb that they can’t follow a simple plot line?’

She began pacing angrily up and down the aisle. After a few seconds, she stopped, a conclusion seemingly reached. ‘Right, forget the trap. You three, go to his office and get it done. Nothing fancy, just kill him.’

She indicated three of the goths at the far end of the room, who were wearing large black hoodies that hid their faces. They put down the boxes they’d been carrying, turned in unison and hurried out of the church.

‘The rest of you henchmen, keep moving those boxes. I’m not paying you to stand around! Boz, perhaps our guest would like a little more music …’ Boz skipped eagerly back towards the stereo. ‘Not so loud this time, though, we need her alive. Also, it sounds terrible. I ask you, what’s wrong with The Sisters of Mercy? You young vampires, no taste at all.’

He looked crestfallen, but obeyed, dialing the volume down to a low screech. They stalked off together, leaving me to suffer the unbearable caterwauling. My head throbbed and my skin crawled, but the box-moving goths seemed energized by the discordant noises. Some of them started to sing along enthusiastically, and I knew then that Teddy had been right. I was in the presence of pure evil.

Teddy … Would I ever see his sweet, hard face again? I had to get away, and soon. I could feel my resistance to the music weakening. I struggled against the ropes again, but they hardly budged a millimeter. I wished I’d paid more attention to the chapter my dad had narrated; hadn’t he been tied to a chair at one point too?

I tried to search my memories for the answer, but the noise in my head was getting louder, and my thoughts were becoming jumbled and strange. Maybe I should get blue highlights in my hair? Where did you buy those cool belts made of real bullets? Should I write my suicide note in my own blood, or would that be too messy? Can’t … think … straight …

I don’t know how much time passed then, but I know I came close to losing myself forever. My mind felt tossed on a great dark ocean, but there were two simple, clear images I managed to cling on to. The first was the cover of Heffa Gets What She Wants, which showed me as I had been then: arms folded, foot stamping, my tiny face a vision of ruthless self-interest. I found the determination of that Heffa inside me still, and it buoyed me up and kept me fighting.

The second was the face of Teddy Kelledy, just after we’d kissed for the first time. He’d looked so shocked and terrified by the whole business, while I had just been getting started. The memory of that look kept me swimming for the shore. There was no way that I was going under now. I had to get back to Teddy, I had to go all the way …

My mind cleared, and I was still me. Boz’s infernal music was still playing, but it seemed to have lost its brain-twisting influence over me. My strength of character had simply been too powerful.

I was still tied to the chair, though.

Then the main doors crashed open, knocking a couple of hapless goths off their feet. In the doorway, I saw the hoodie-wearing goths that Crabtree had sent after my father. They walked forward down the aisle, one slightly ahead of the two flanking him on either side. I desperately tried to make out their expressions as they came towards me, but the dim light and their low hoods kept their faces completely in shadow.

Ms Crabtree appeared to my left and stood in front of the altar. The three assassins stood before her, but none of them spoke. The other goths gathered round eagerly. The silence continued, and I wished it would go on forever. The next words that were spoken could make me an orphan. Except for my mom, but who counted her?

‘Well?’ demanded Ms Crabtree. ‘Did you find him?’

The trio stood stock still. Maybe they hadn’t found him and were terrified of telling her? Ms Crabtree seemed content to stand and wait for an answer; patience must be one of the benefits of eternal damnation.

Then the assassin closest to me gave me a subtle, but unmistakably cheery, finger-wave. I looked closer, and realized with joyous surprise that the face lurking beneath the hood was Bobbi Kelledy’s. She grinned at me, then pointed to my left. I turned my head and saw Boz’s stereo. I looked back at Bobbi for clarification and she nodded imperceptibly, jabbing her finger towards the hard floor.

I nodded, and started shuffling my chair closer to the altar until I could lean forward and nudge the boom box with my head. A couple of good shoves was all it would take; I just needed a few more seconds. The lead assassin spoke in a gruff murmur: ‘Uh, did we find him? Did we … find … him? Let me see …’

‘Good grief, man, either you did or you didn’t. If you don’t tell me right this instant, I’m going to pull off your—’

But we would never know what part of his anatomy she was about to jerk off, as at that moment my head connected with the stereo and sent it crashing to the floor. The music stopped as it smashed to pieces on the hard stone, and Ms Crabtree turned to look at me. ‘What on earth?’

As soon as her back was turned, the three silent assassins became a blur of motion as they removed their hoodies. The other goths gasped, and Crabtree’s attention was drawn away from me. In front of her stood Jack, Teddy and Bobbi Kelledy, all smiling at her shocked expression.

If their sudden appearance was a surprise to Ms Crabtree, I couldn’t imagine what she made of their outfits. Bobbi was wearing red vinyl boots and a minidress covered in green and yellow flowers, while Jack sported a purple sequined jumpsuit. In between them was Teddy, my one and only Teddy Kelledy. He wore flared jeans, platform boots and a tie-dyed smiley-face T-shirt. His pants were held up by rainbow braces. In his hands was an acoustic guitar.

The goths were clearly dazzled by this riot of color; some of them shielded their faces, while others backed away nervously. Ms Crabtree screamed: ‘My eyes!’

‘Okay, gang, hit it!’ Teddy shouted, and he began to strum the guitar. He sang, and the others joined in with harmonies.

The effect on the goths was instantaneous. They fell to the floor, hands clasped to their ears, writhing in agony, as the Kelledys merrily warbled, ‘The sun has got his hat on …’ Then the trio sang even louder as the screams threatened to drown them out.

I didn’t like to see anyone suffer, not even the hideous goths, but I bounced excitedly in my chair. Only because I was happy to hear Teddy sing, of course. The front legs of my chair slipped over the edge of the altar, and I went tumbling face first down the steps to the floor.

Oh yes, that was how Dad got free; he broke the chair, I thought, as my head cracked against the ground.

I heard Teddy’s voice in my ear, as if from very far away. ‘Wake up, Heffa – the exciting action sequence is over and we’ve dealt with the goths off-screen so as not to endanger our PG-13 rating, but now we need you to narrate again.’

It was so comfortable down here in the dark, though. Stop bothering me, Teddy, why don’t you try narrating for once?

I heard Bobbi’s voice then. ‘It’s no use, Teddy, look at the size of that cut on her head, and that huge pool of blood on the floor. I think she might be dying. Oh well, easy come, easy go.’

‘No, Bobbi, she can’t die. I love her. I won’t let it happen. Call an ambulance. We just need to keep her alive until they get here. She needs blood. Sweet, nourishing blood. There’s nothing else to do – I’ll have to slip her my special sausage.’

I felt Teddy’s presence then, very close to me, closer than I’d ever felt him before. I heard myself mumbling, ‘Special sausage?’ and then the voices faded. I saw strange visions – fireworks exploded, flowers bloomed, a train steamed into a tunnel … Then there was nothing, just darkness and a warm, enveloping sense of satisfaction.

I woke up in a private room in Spatula Hospital. My head was bandaged, and I’d have a bruise for a couple of weeks, but the doctor assured me there was no lasting damage. He left the room, muttering, ‘Where there’s no sense, there’s no feeling,’ and then Teddy and my dad rushed in.

‘Thank jiminy, Heff, I thought I’d lost you!’ Chump cried, grabbing my hand and kissing it.

The events of earlier in the chapter were hazy, but I hadn’t forgotten about how my so-called father had totally failed to come to my rescue. I couldn’t make him feel bad, though, he was obviously distraught. I put my free hand on his shoulder comfortingly. ‘Do you believe I was kidnapped now, Dad?’

He nodded guiltily. ‘Of course I do, Heffa, Teddy told me all about it. It’s lucky that his sister saw that story on Stawker – “Local Vamp Queen Kidnaps Mystery Brunette” – or they never would have found you in time!’

‘That’s right, Dad, Teddy saved me. It’s nice to know that there’s one man in my life I can rely on.’

Chump smiled wanly, then reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a card. ‘Here, it’s from your mother. Arrived this morning.’

‘A card? I almost died, and the best she can do is a card? After all I’ve done for her. Wait, maybe it’s got money in it. Open it, Dad. How much? Fifty dollars? Twenty? A few moldy singles, at least?’

Dad shook his head, probably in despair at my mother’s thoughtlessness, and set the card on the cabinet by my bed. ‘Get Well Soon,’ it read. What a predictable sentiment.

Teddy cleared his throat, and my dad looked at his watch. ‘Anyway, Heff, I’d better get going. I need to swing by the Economart and pick up some frozen casseroles to keep me going until you’re on your feet again, and the game starts in forty minutes. I’m glad you’re okay, kiddo. I’ll come and see you again tomorrow.’

‘Thanks, Dad! Bring chocolate next time; you want me to starve to death on top of everything else?’

‘Okay, honey, goodbye now.’ He smiled as he closed the door behind him.

Teddy and I were alone together at last. I lay staring at him, taking in every detail anew. His solid, helmet-like hair, with its dashing side-parting. His noble, jutting brow. His noble, jutting jaw. His other noble, jutting parts. His pale skin, his red lips, and his taupe eyes.

He stared right back at me. I waited. It would take him a minute yet to finish mentally cataloguing all my amazing features, so numerous were they. Take your time, Teddy. Don’t forget my toes, each more adorable than the last. There we go.

‘Heffa, my darling, you are my life. If anything had happened to you, I would never have forgiven myself. I knew I should never have left you alone!’ He looked angry now.

‘Teddy, you saved me. I’m safe now, here with you. That’s all that matters.’

He embraced me, and we stayed that way until the high-pitched beeping of the suddenly rapid heart monitor became annoying.

‘Just one thing, though,’ I said. ‘After I passed out, what happened?’

He looked at his feet (I’m over here, dummy, not down there). ‘We finished playing the song, and then we performed “Here Comes the Sun”, “Keep on the Sunny Side” and “I Am the Black Gold of the Sun” to make sure they were incapacitated. And then, for an encore, I did “Stairway to Heaven”– not really relevant, it’s just a great song. Anyway, then we killed the vampires, and their pitiful goth hangers-on. And then … we brought you here. And that’s pretty much it.’

‘Oh, huh. I have the strangest feeling that something significant passed between us while I was out. I had this funny dream where you – oh, it doesn’t matter, my head hurts just thinking about it. You killed the vampires, though? I’m sorry to have missed that, I bet it was really exciting! How do you kill a vampire, anyway?’

He looked puzzled. ‘With a stake through the heart, of course. How else would you do it?’

I scowled. He could be so patronizing sometimes. It wasn’t my fault if Stephfordy was too lazy to think of any new twists on vampire lore, I was just trying to take an interest in my boyfriend’s hobbies.

‘Well, fine. I’m glad they’re dead, they were really horrible to me. They tied me to a chair, and they kept going on about something called The Reshuffle, and how I’d be useless in it, and they said that I’d make a pathetic vampire. You don’t think that, do you? That I’d be a pathetic vampire?’

He wagged his finger at me. ‘You don’t get me that easily, Heffa Lump. You might not have completed “Nefarious Doings 101”, but I have; you can’t trick me. For the last time, you are not becoming a vampire, not now, not ever. First of all, I can’t let you lose your Eternal Cool, and secondly, look how many pages of the book there are left. All sorts of horrible things might happen to you yet, and if you were a vampire, you wouldn’t need me around to protect you from them, would you? I like keeping you safe, and I’m going to carry on doing it for ever and ever and ever.’

That reminded me, what about the horde of zombies that lusted after my brains? And what exactly was The Reshuffle? And how was I going to convince Teddy to stop worrying and just turn me into a vampire?

But these were questions for another day. Right now, I was happy to be alive and safe, and here with my darling of the undying, my Romeo of the revenants, Teddy Kelledy. I smiled at him indulgently, and looked out of the window. The rain battered against the glass as black storm clouds drifted across the sky. A bolt of lightning struck on the horizon, and I saw the tree it hit burst into flames. Another fine day in Spatula, my home sweet home.

chapter 11

withdrawal

Time, like a river, flowed onwards. Also like a river, it was wet and there were hidden hazards and whirlpools. Also like a river, you could go skinny-dipping in it. And before I knew it, it was our one-month anniversary and I’d just got a D in ‘Sense and Similes’.

Naturally, I went straight to Miss Shirley and demanded to know what in the blazes was going on. I’d narrated over half a book, been in and out of mortal danger and found my true love, and I was still getting poor grades for style? It was unbelievable.

I knocked on the cottage door. Miss Shirley looked up from where she was comforting one of the extras who’d failed her third ‘named role’ qualification exam, and sighed when she saw me, motioning the extra to fade into the background. ‘Miss Lump, what can I do for you today?’

‘A D in “Sense and Similes”? A D? Frankly, this mark is almost as ludicrous as the “dark mark”. I mean, why would you have a tattoo that told everyone you were part of an evil secret society?’

Miss Shirley winced, causing her aged face to wrinkle even more unattractively. ‘Judging from that, I’m surprised you didn’t get an F. I’m somewhat concerned about your progress, Heffa. You seem to spend all your time daydreaming of late. I do realize that you had that hospital stay recently, but, really, you need to throw yourself back into the action, not just spend weeks without any narrative or emotional development at all. You’ve got to try something new, experiment a little.’

I couldn’t believe what she was telling me. Everyone knew that true originality scared the life out of people. Far better to be a bit like everything else! Did she want me to move into post-modern fiction and lose all my ‘I’s or something? I’d rather die!

‘But I’m working really hard, I do all my homework, I’m trying to get Teddy to initiate adult relations, I’m just not sure what else I can do!’

I broke into tears. That usually got teachers to increase my grades, at least those ones Teddy hadn’t already threatened into giving me straight As.

‘Heffa, my dear, I’ve been headmistress of this school for years. You’re going to have to do better than crying if you want to move me. I’ve seen it all before. You do have a lot of potential, but you’re just going to have to stop writing “Heffa Kelledy” on all your notebooks over and over again and do some actual work. You can’t coast on adolescent emotional confusion for ever, you know.’

She smiled encouragingly at me, but it was far too late, my soul was crushed and my dreams ruined. I would never recover, and then she’d be sorry.

She led me to the door gently. ‘Just try thinking through your reactions a little bit. If you immediately fall into despair at the least setback, I don’t see how we can help you.’

How wrong could she be? I didn’t fall into despair at the least setback, only the really important things, like when Teddy failed to be exactly on time for our dates, or I found a freckle on my face, or my dad refused to buy me something: world-ending events like that. I was starting to feel that Spatula didn’t have everything I needed. If only Teddy would get over his adoringly selfless refusal to turn me, the two of us could just leave; we didn’t need anyone else.

I emerged from the school to find Teddy waiting for me by the car. He was clutching a present in one hand and a bunch of red roses in the other. He really was the best boyfriend ever.

‘Are those for me?’

‘Of course they are – you left me that note this morning, the one that said, “Today’s our one-month anniversary, which means you need to get me red roses, another present of your choosing, and an outing somewhere special.”’

I flung my arms around him. He’d remembered that today was our special day!

‘What’s the other present? Where are you taking me? I’m sure wherever it is, it’ll be perfect, just like you.’

He lifted me into the car. ‘Heffa, you shouldn’t say these things. I’m not perfect, I’m deadly.’

I loved how he tortured himself with worry over my well-being. It really showed me he cared, though it could also get a little repetitive. How many times did I have to tell him I’d rather be ‘taken’ by him than anyone – or thing – else? His vermillion eyes were like chips of marble, icy and stern, and I shivered. For a moment, I had a presentiment of doom. The last month had been perfect, apart from the zombies and vampires, of course, but how could it last? A girl and a vampire, surely that wasn’t meant to be? What if Teddy tired of me? It was unlikely, but it could happen. I didn’t know what I’d do without him. A cold wind swept through the car. Then Teddy wound the window up and we set off.

‘I hear you young folk like the moving pictures,’ he said. ‘I thought we could see what was showing at the Port D’Angerous Nickelodeon, how does that sound?’

I thought it sounded like he hadn’t spent enough time researching the details of our date, but then he was new to all this, so I was prepared to let him off the hook this time. And a dark cinema, us in the back row, some popcorn … it might be a great way to get closer.

We went to see Better Latte Than Never, the story of a grumpy independent-coffee-shop owner whose life is transformed when he meets a cheerful, borderline-insane young woman at a coffee convention. But it turns out she manages the nearby Starbucks and he can no longer talk to her, until she comes to work for him and their love blossoms amid open-mic nights and bean-counting.

Teddy seemed fascinated by it. I even caught him taking notes during the bit where Cassiopeia explains to Greg how love is like coffee: frothy on the surface, but full of dark intensity underneath.

‘Don’t you think Cassiopeia had some really good arguments about how age didn’t matter when true love was in the balance – true love weighed more, as she proved with the coffee-house scales and the muffins?’ I asked as we drove back. The film had been very educational. I wondered how other narrators coped when the world around them failed to provide parallel narratives that cast intriguing new light on their own situations. I supposed they would have to rely on original thought and intuition. Poor, poor lost souls.

‘Yes, indeed,’ Teddy said, ‘and about how big corporations are actually supportive of smaller concerns, and there’s room for everyone in this world of ours. I thought that was very inspirational.’

Oh, Teddy, how intellectual he was, and how I wished sometimes that he would descend to the lower level of mortality, where the rest of us lived and laughed and occasionally got intimate.

We snuck into my bedroom, barely escaping my father waving merrily at us to join him. Honestly, didn’t he know he couldn’t prevent our forbidden love? Teddy shyly revealed his other present, a piece of parchment covered in red writing.

‘Is that blood?’ I gasped.

‘No, blood is useless as ink, it clots so quickly,’ he said. ‘This is red biro.’ He went on: ‘I find it hard to express myself in front of you. You’re so eloquent, I know I cannot match your limpid prose. So I have used another medium, that of poetry.’

‘Oh, darling, give it to me!’ I sighed. ‘I mean, read it to me.’

Teddy cleared his throat nervously. ‘“Taddeus and Heffala”, a sonnet by Teddy Kelledy.’

Already I was in raptures; I was sure ‘Heffala’ meant me. I was starring in a poem for the first time since I was six – a dream come true!

Teddy read aloud:

Heffala was a blushing flower

Whom Taddeus spied once from afar.

She threw posies to him from her bower;

He drove her ev’rywhere in his fast car.

But oh! The rose will rot once it has bloomed.

And oh! How soon is cut the fatal thread.

Taddeus’s love he feared was doomed

For Heffala would soon be dead.

No matter, though – his love was pure:

No thorn would harm his virgin bud.

He would protect, adore and woo her,

And swore not once to drain her blood.

So here is Taddeus’s promise weighty –

My love always, even when you’re eighty.

Now I was the one lost for words at his moving declaration of eternal love. He’d be mine even when I was wrinkly and wizened! But I didn’t have to be wrinkly and wizened – why couldn’t he see there was another way?

‘Teddy, your words are the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard, but I fear for us. I’m ready to take the next step, can’t you see that?’

As if to demonstrate that declaration, I took a step towards him, but my clumsiness came crashing back in as a plot device, and the next thing I knew, I had tripped and fallen, knocking my arm on the edge of the table and sending the vase of roses flying to the floor. I lay, bruised and wet, surrounded by broken glass.

‘You see!’ Teddy declared. ‘Merely being in the same space as me brings you close to losing your Eternal Cool, and puts you into mortal danger. I must depart!’

‘It’s only a bruise,’ I muttered forlornly, picking myself up from amid the shattered vase. I could only hope that this wasn’t some kind of metaphorical foreshadowing of other things breaking (i.e. my heart). Surely Teddy would not be so cruel, nor Stephfordy so darn obvious?

But then he uttered the words that shattered my soul, just as the vase had foreseen mere seconds before. ‘I think I should stay away from you for a little while.’

I jumped to my feet, unable to make sense of the words, and then, once they had filtered in, I knew there was only one appropriate reaction to news of this magnitude.

Unfortunately, my body stubbornly refused to faint on cue, so I hyperventilated until blackness crept up on me – Teddy’s voice continued in the background, but nothing he could say would help. I was passing out … going … going … gone …

REALLY

REALLY

BUMMED

It was no good. My life was over. The past seemed so long ago, it was meaningless. It could have been years since Teddy had left me, or months, or days. Had I known happiness? It seemed I had, but that was just a flicker of a second in the face of this maelstrom of never-ending misery.

Even his poem was gone, the one piece of evidence I’d had that he had loved me, apart from the memory of all the times he’d said he did. I would never recover, never move from this room, no matter how many years followed. It was like there was a hole in me, a gaping hole in my head, an open, bleeding wound that would never close or heal, and from which all of my brains would slowly leak out until I was a shadow of my usual feisty self.

‘Heffa?’

‘What is it, Dad?’ I answered hollowly.

‘You want some dinner? I’m worried about you; when’s the last time you ate a proper casserole?’

How could I think of food when I was surfacing from eons of unending horror and despair? He was belittling my pain, how typical. He clearly hadn’t noticed the rain rattling the window or my black garb or the big sign on my door that said, ‘Do not disturb – grieving the loss of life itself.’

Still, all this heart-rending mournfulness was hard work. I was a little bit hungry. I got up and went downstairs, and even the stairs mocked me, always descending evenly ever further into the gloom …

Chump turned the lights on as I entered the kitchen, startling me. I had forgotten what brightness looked like. ‘Are you all right, Heff ?’

‘My life is over. I’ll probably kill myself, then Teddy will be sorry,’ I told him – I didn’t want him to worry about me, after all. He patted my hand awkwardly.

‘There, there – I know this seems like the worst thing ever, but trust your old dad, you’ll get over it. It only took me fifteen years to stop missing your mother, these things run their course.’

‘Honestly, Dad, how can you compare your wife of three years leaving you to this? No offence, but you and Mom were hardly the stuff Hollywood movies were made of. This is totally different, this was destiny!’

Chump frowned. I could see his tiny little brain struggling to wrap itself around the truth and beauty of my words. ‘But if it’s destiny, won’t it all come right in the end somehow?’

Oh, it was no use talking to a man as homely and down-to-earth as Chump. Of course it would be all right eventually, since Stephfordy was writing a romance and everything, but right now we were in the dramatic and conflict-ridden middle section, and there was no light anywhere to be seen (except for on the kitchen ceiling).

I cast around for something, anything, I could do to make myself even more miserable, and thus drive home the point of my suffering even more forcefully. There was no point in being half-hearted about it all, this was THE END OF EVERYTHING and totally worthy of capital letters. Ah, I had it! I would go and visit Teddy’s home, walk the corridors he’d walked, sit among his abandoned possessions, kiss the light switches his hands had once touched … that would set me up for weeks more wallowing in pain.

I grabbed Chump’s keys and drove out of Spatula. I’d never been to Teddy’s house, but he’d drawn me a detailed map in case I ever got attacked and needed to flee there for his protection. It was out of the town a little ways. I’d initially assumed this was so that people didn’t get too curious about the Kelledys and their strange nocturnal activities and hunts, but apparently it was just because Jack liked to play his music really loud to drown out the screaming of Joseph’s visitors.

I pictured the Kelledy home as I drove up to it. It would be shuttered, lifeless and dark – no Bobbi tapping away at the Internet, no Jack practicing the drums, no Joseph making videos in his basement. And no Teddy, no Teddy, no Teddy, a fact dire enough to make it worth repeating thrice. I thought about simply driving into a tree, but decided to be brave. The world still needed me and my supreme characterization, I couldn’t deprive it by taking the easy way out.

The house was found at the end of a long and winding driveway, and was more of a castle than a house. Only fitting for the regal family that had once lived there. Again, my heart clenched, my mind froze, my body shivered as grief shook me, and the hole in my head throbbed for good measure.

I climbed out of the car and went closer to the castle. From a distance, it looked grand and imposing; close up, it seemed slightly smaller than I might have thought. For some reason, I was reminded of Disneyland – my best ever holiday; I’d managed to disrupt the entire parade by insisting that I was the princess until they’d let me ride the float – and I knocked against the wall. It resounded hollowly.

At first, I thought that even the inanimate stone was reacting to the gaping wound in all existence, but then I realized the explanation was much simpler. The Kelledys’ castle was made of fiberglass. One more deception! I didn’t think I would survive a further blow: first Teddy left, and now it was revealed that he wasn’t really a prince living in a castle. Was he even a vampire? Maybe I had been foolishly misled over everything; next, someone would be telling me that I wasn’t the most fascinatingly interesting person they’d ever met.

I leaned against the castle wall and pounded my fist against it. ‘Why? Why? WHY ??’

‘Heffa, don’t – you’ll hurt yourself!’

Well, didn’t that just take the cake, now I was hearing Teddy’s voice. I really had gone insane with grief. I bet Miss Shirley would call that character development, so there!

A hand clasped mine. Now I was feeling things, too? I turned and saw Teddy. ‘Visual hallucinations as well?’ I said out loud.

‘No, Heffa, you’re not seeing things. I’m right here.’

‘You came back for me! Oh, my love, my love, never leave me again, I’ll die without you, you hear me? And then you’ll have to come to my funeral and everyone will know it was your fault and you’ll have to live with the pain and grief for always.’

Teddy appeared puzzled. Couldn’t he see what his leaving had done to me? I was a wreck of a girl, even paler than before; I hadn’t even brushed my hair or done my make-up, that was how world-ending this was.

‘Came back? It’s still the same day, Heffa! You fainted before I could explain properly. I’m not leaving for good – how could you think that? It’s just that I’m finding it really hard to be around you right now, you smell even more … alluring than normal.’

I wondered if it was because I was on the rag. It seemed strange that I was dating a vampire who lusted after blood, but neither of us had ever mentioned or worried about the impact that time of the month would have on him. It was kind of icky, so probably best not discussed. Anyway, the point was getting to the bottom of this whole affair. He’d said he was leaving, pitching me into a slough of despond that had lasted for decades, or a whole afternoon, and now it was all some kind of misunderstanding? What kind of game did he think he was playing?

‘So, I’m going to do an exchange trip with a Romanian family for a couple of weeks,’ Teddy went on earnestly. ‘Apparently, there are primordial forests there where beasts still roam, and Jack says he saw on this website that they have these hostels where you can kill people, too. It’s just what I need, a really relaxing break, unwind a bit, and then I shall return refreshed and back in control and we can be together forever again.’

I wanted to swoon into his arms, but held back. He’d put me through hell, after all; I wasn’t going to forgive him just like that. ‘I thought you were going for good,’ I whimpered, my stoic, dignified mask finally breaking.

‘But Heffa, why would I do that? We’re soulmates, I’ve told you that. How could you think I would leave you just for the sake of some cheap narrative tension, or to increase the page count?’ He stroked my cheek.

‘Now, cheer up, my darling. I’ll be back before you know it, especially if you make a couple of weeks pass in a few pages. Oh, and promise me that you’ll at least try not to kill yourself while I’m gone. I do see that it’s difficult to live without my shining perfection, but if we both sacrifice this time together, our relationship will be even stronger, or something, trust me on that!’

He wiped the tears from my eyes, licked them rapturously from his fingers, and gently led me back to the car. Perhaps he was right; my natural inclination was to go all the way with him, but I remembered Trey McBlande saying that there was virtue in waiting. Maybe it was worth giving it a go.

I drove away from Castle Kelledy, away from my own Knight in Shining Armor, away from my fairy-tale, legendary love affair, and slid once more into the wallowing morass of gloom. I’d been dumped, and I didn’t care if it was only temporary. My fragile soul would never ever recover, never ever … at least until Teddy returned and kissed, or bit, it better.

chapter 12

doing it werewolf style

The next few days were a relentless torrent of unending agony that would definitely have been fatal to anyone who didn’t possess my amazing ability to bear torment without complaint. I was reasonably certain no one had ever suffered even half as much as I was suffering. Who else could possibly have plumbed the depths of pain such as I was now enduring?

After all, my soulmate had left me for two whole weeks. I had wanted him to grant me eternal life, and instead he gave me eternal misery. I couldn’t think straight; I felt like a zombie had bitten the top of my head off and drunk my brains like a slushie. I was doing my best to go through the motions of day-to-day life as if nothing was wrong – I didn’t want anyone to worry about me, much – and the needless self-sacrifice gave my pain an added hint of piquancy.

My only consolation was that Teddy’s devotion to my well-being lived on, despite him being gone, never to return (until next Sunday). As I blundered listlessly through my daily routine, I was constantly reminded of our former love. The hundreds of tender notes he had thoughtfully left for me were now a bittersweet pleasure. The hole in my head ached every time I saw one of them, and yet I could not look away, for they were all that remained of him.

I sat at my dresser one morning, so distraught I was no longer sure what day it was, whichever one comes after Tuesday, who knows? The mirror had two of Teddy’s loving notes stuck to it. The first read, ‘Careful, glass can be sharp, so don’t accidentally smash the mirror and cut an artery on a shard! xxx’ and the second reminded me, ‘Check you still have a reflection; if not, you may be a vampire! xxx.’

I wiped a tear from my eye. How could someone capable of such sensitivity leave me so cruelly? Teddy had warned me of his demonic nature many times, but I never thought he would be able to kill me from halfway around the world. I threw my mascara down and gave up trying to make myself look presentable to the world. There was no way I could ever hide my torment.

That said, not one of my so-called friends had asked me if I was okay. Maybe I was doing way too good a job of bottling up my misery? I grabbed my lipstick and painted my lips, extending the color downwards on either side of my mouth to create a ‘sad face’ effect. Surely that would provoke a wave of girlish sympathy.

At school, English passed achingly slowly. I sat at my desk surrounded by tissues, head propped in my hands, ready to break down in tears dramatically the moment anyone asked me if I was doing okay. No one did. I guess my heartbreak at losing Teddy was so unique that it wasn’t even recognizable to ordinary people. They had never felt this kind of pain, with their ordinary relationships and their ordinary looks, so how could they possibly comprehend what I was going through? That was the only rational explanation for their lack of interest.

The bell rang. I couldn’t face Gym. There was no need to keep in shape any more. I packed away my textbooks and my ‘ask me how I feel about being forsaken by Teddy’ sign, and then ran through the corridors of the Academy, screaming aloud as the gore-stained edges of the hole in my head throbbed agonizingly. Oh Teddy, my unholy love, why have you abandoned me?

Eventually, I slumped against a corridor wall and curled into a ball on the floor. I wept sorrowfully, even though there was still no one around to notice my pain. I kept it up for a few minutes in case anyone came past, but then stood and attempted to straighten myself out.

At the end of the corridor was a door labeled ‘Boiler Room’. Now that I was no longer sobbing ostentatiously, I could hear voices and raucous laughter coming from behind it. It sounded like Joe Cahontas and his dumb stoner friends. Just what I needed! My bloodsucker might have gone away, but a bog-standard sucker suited me fine at this precise moment.

The school basement was warm and filled with the gentle thrum of the machinery that took up most of the space. I could hear a voice on the other side of the boiler, and I approached gingerly. In the center of the room, Joe Cahontas and his trio of slacker friends lolled on ratty old couches. The one who was speaking shouted out, ‘A dalmatian with sunburn!’ and the four of them creased up with laughter.

Maybe it was their good mood, or just something in the atmosphere, but suddenly I was laughing too. The others noticed me, turning their heads slowly towards where I stood, but they kept on giggling and pointing at me. Apparently, my presence was amusing to them.

Their renewed laughter made me laugh all the harder. I couldn’t remember the last time I had laughed, and I felt the tension leaving my body. My sides were starting to hurt, so I staggered over to the couch where Joe sat and fell onto it. He moved to let me sit down, smiling at me and wiping a tear from his eye.

Eventually, we got ourselves under control and Joe announced, ‘Oh, Fidaux, man, that was a good one, but cool it for now. I don’t think this chick could stand no more.’

The boy he’d called Fidaux shrugged and slumped back into his seat. He grabbed a magazine from the top of a nearby pile and flicked languidly through it.

‘Hey, is that this month’s Wolf Whistle? Let me get a look at that, man,’ another of the boys said, getting up to lean on the back of Fidaux’s chair. They started to point enthusiastically at the magazine, nudging one another, with comments like ‘Look at the long glossy coat on that’ and ‘Check out Readers’ Were-Wives’.

Joe watched them with an amused expression, then turned to me. ‘So, great to see you, Heffa, where’ve you been hiding?’

‘Oh well, you know, I was spending a lot of time with Teddy and then he …’ I stopped. I could feel tears forming in my eyes; it was just too painful to talk about. Joe put his arm around me and patted me on the shoulder.

‘I understand, you don’t have to say it. That lousy undead punk did the dirty on you. That’s vampires for you, they just don’t know how to stay faithful. Well, good riddance. You’re better off without that leech, Heffa, trust your old pal Joe.’

I nodded. Maybe Joe was right. Teddy had deserted me and broken my heart; what sort of a soulmate would have made me this miserable?

‘And anyway, vampires? Please, they think they’re so scary, but what have they got, honestly? They’re just ordinary-looking humans with bad dentists. Put one of them next to a ten-foot-tall, slavering man-wolf, and I know which I’d bet on to make a quivering victim change into their brown pants, if you know what I mean. Vampires have this killer rep, but it’s total bull. We werewolves are a thousand times scarier. And one day we’ll prove it!’

The rest of Joe’s gang went very quiet then, and looked at him gravely as if he’d just revealed some dark secret. He cleared his throat and looked into my eyes. ‘Now werewolves, on the other hand, we’re famously faithful. Once a werewolf finds a lady he likes, she may as well just accept that she’ll be finding dog hair on her clothes for the rest of her life. Even if she’s been hideously scarred, or she’s a newborn baby. Ain’t that right, boys?’

The others nodded wholehearted agreement, smirking and winking at Joe as they did so, probably at some shared piece of secret werewolf lore.

Joe’s arm felt warm and comforting around me. I’d forgotten what the touch of a real live man felt like. I moved closer to him. ‘Thanks for letting me hang out with you guys, Joe. I’ve been feeling so sad and lonely for the last few days, I think I really need you right now.’

Fidaux threw down his magazine and shook his finger at Joe. ‘Hold on, man, having a visitor is one thing, but you ain’t gonna let this chick hang out with us full time, are ya? What about the band?’

Laddie agreed. ‘Look at her, she ain’t exactly Mayor of Coolsville, is she?’

Joe withdrew his arm and stood up. He looked me up and down, and then shrugged apologetically. ‘Maybe the guys are right, Heff. For one thing, we’re werewolves, and if that wasn’t bad enough, we’re dangerous rock musicians too. We live way out on the edge, and you’re just too much of a goody two-shoes to fit into our scene.’

I’d only just rebounded into Joe’s life, and now he was trying to dump me because I wasn’t cool enough for him? Well, if these hairy goofballs thought they could get rid of me that easily, they didn’t know Heffa Lump. I stood up and stamped my foot with all the determination I could muster.

‘You guys are really mean. I’m totally cool, and I can live as dangerously as any of you. I was going out with a psychotic vampire for heck’s sake, surely that counts for something?’

They were shaking their heads now, and Fidaux turned away dismissively. Joe was still looking at me. I could tell from his face that he wanted to get me in the club.

‘If you live so dangerous, what’s stuck to your shoe?’ Laddie asked.

I looked down and saw another of Teddy’s Post-it notes. ‘Don’t forget to keep your laces tied, or you may trip and fall! xxx.’ Ugh, not helping, actually, Teddy.

I marched over to Laddie and stuck a finger in his face. ‘Fine, you want me to prove I’m dangerous, I’ll show you dangerous. Meet me in the car lot after school – we’re gonna turn Spatula upside down with mayhem.’

The four of them were silent. Joe was grinning at me proudly; the others wore shocked expressions. I heard the bell ring for afternoon classes and I fled for the stairs, shouting back over my shoulder: ‘Don’t want to be late for class. See you this evening, and be prepared, anything could happen!’

I hardly paid attention to my lessons. Instead, I scribbled in my notebook, plotting a wave of anarchy that would rock this sleepy town to its foundations. I rushed to the parking lot after class, where Joe Cahontas and his hairy friends were waiting for me by their band van, with skeptical looks on their faces.

‘Get in, boys, and get ready for a one-way trip to chaos,’ I challenged them. I’d been stung by the suggestion that I was a bit of a square. It’s true I’d always minded my parents and paid attention in class, but I couldn’t believe that having a boyfriend, and a vampire one at that, counted for so little. I was going to have to take some genuinely irresponsible risks if I was going to be accepted by this werewolf clan.

‘Where to, Heffa?’ Joe asked from behind the wheel.

‘Just drive, fuzz face, and stop when I tell you.’

Joe nodded and set off. We cruised around Spatula, Joe with his eyes on the road, me looking out the window for something appropriately dangerous. After ten minutes or so of aimless meandering around the suburbs of Spatula, I finally spotted a house that seemed to hold promise. It was ordinary-looking enough, apart from the half dozen or so rusting motorbikes that sat abandoned on the driveway.

‘Pull over, Joe. I hope you’re watching, you guys. Something seriously radical is about to go down.’

I hopped out of the truck and walked up the drive to the front door. The motorbikes seemed like they’d been badly neglected, but I was sure they could be fixed up by someone with the right mechanical brain. I stepped up onto the porch and paused for a moment. All right, Heffa Lump, let’s do this. Those boys want to see irresponsible, let’s give them total craziness.

I rang the doorbell. Then I was running back down the driveway as fast as I could. I dived into the van’s cab and shouted, ‘Drive, Joe, put your foot down, go go go!’ The tires screeched on the tarmac, and we were off, exhaust fumes billowing out behind the rapidly accelerating van. I glanced back to see a peeved-looking man stood on the porch, shaking his fist in our direction.

The guys in the back of the van were hooting with laughter, and Fidaux clapped me on the back. ‘Oh Heffa, man, that was amazing. Did you see the look on that guy’s face? He thought you were, like, the postman, or something, but then when he answered the door, you weren’t even there!’

Laddie chipped in: ‘Totally unbelievable, his dinner was probably going all cold and stuff while he walked to the door!’

Joe was quiet, his eyes still fixed on the road. Was he angry? Maybe I’d gone too far? I sat nervously in my seat, my mind starting to race. What if that man called the police? God, Teddy was right, I couldn’t be trusted to look after myself. I’d taken leave of my senses.

Joe pulled over and turned to me then, his face bearing a stern expression. ‘Heffa. That was … awesome!’ He reached over and took me in his arms, crushing the breath out of me in a powerful bear hug. Or do I mean were hug?

He addressed the others. ‘See, guys, I told you that hanging out with the stupid vampires hadn’t made her a total loser.’ They agreed eagerly. We all exchanged high fives. I’d been accepted into their gang, and I grinned from ear to ear.

I could feel the hole in my head getting smaller with every second that I spent with Joe and his friends. This was going to be great – who needed Teddy and his creepy vampire family anyway? Thanks to their selfishness and cruelty, I still had my Eternal Cool; maybe it was time to start using it. After all, I was hanging out with The Protection Racket now. I was in their group. I was a total groupie. What did a groupie do, exactly?

Joe interrupted my deep reverie. ‘Hey guys, I’m going to drop Heffa off at home. I’ll catch up with you later, okay?’

The others all piled out of the van, leaving us alone. ‘Aw, thanks, Joe,’ I breathed softly. ‘That’s really sweet of you.’

‘Makes a change from your precious, selfish vampires, huh?’ he responded.

I put my hand on Joe’s arm and tenderly ran my fingers through his fur. ‘Joe, forget about Teddy, will you? I’m here with you, aren’t I?’ He smiled. ‘Although we’re just friends, Teddy is still my soulmate, you got that?’

He nodded disappointedly, and started the van. I didn’t mean to give Joe mixed signals; he was a good friend, and his warm embrace touched me in ways that felt different to what I’d had with Teddy. I’d never want to hurt him, so I’d just have to – what was the phrase? – ‘string him along’ until the hole in my head healed and I could think clearly about which of them deserved me the most.

When Joe pulled up outside my house, we sat quietly, enjoying the simple platonic sexual tension between us. Joe eventually broke the silence. ‘Hey, Heffa, do you like killing things?’

‘Well, I’m not sure. I’ve killed houseplants, and maybe the odd pet or two, but—’

He laughed. ‘Naw, not like that, you dummy. I mean like aliens and stuff, in video games!’

‘Video games? I’ve never heard of those.’ Must be another modern technology that Stephfordy Mayo felt it convenient to deny the existence of.

‘Man, you’re gonna love ’em. Come on, I’ll show you. Grab that bag from under my seat. You do have a TV, don’t you?’

We went inside. Dad was watching the game in the living room.

‘Hi Dad, this is Joe, he might be my new boyfriend now Teddy has dumped me, but maybe we’re just good friends. I haven’t decided yet. Anyway, we need the TV. Your game is nearly over, isn’t it? Would you mind going upstairs and listening to the last eight innings on the radio? Thanks, bye.’

Joe waved a friendly goodbye as Dad trudged out of the room, and then started messing with wires behind the TV. He passed me something called a ‘joypad’ and switched on the strange gray box he’d attached to our television.

‘Okay, this game’s called Phalo. We each play a ’roided-up space fascist, and the idea is to shoot each other repeatedly until one of us has an epileptic fit, you got it?’

I nodded uncertainly as the game began. Time went by in a blur as I was shot, stabbed, grenade-tagged and ‘tea-bagged’ over and over again. It was utterly mystifying, but Joe seemed to be enjoying himself, and seeing his happiness made me happy. I struggled to master the controls with limited success, and was pleased when the game was interrupted by the phone ringing.

Joe answered it. ‘Hello? No, I’m sorry, she’s dead. Yeah, that’s what I said. She’s totally dead, I blew her head off with a shotgun and then shoved a plasma grenade down her neck-hole just to be sure. Okay, thanks for calling, bye!’

‘Who was that, Joe?’ I asked anxiously. It would be easy for someone to get the wrong impression of my state of health from what he’d said, which would be awful.

He shrugged, and I was just about to express my annoyance by hurling the joypad at his stupid were-head when the phone rang again. He grabbed it before I could get to it.

‘Hi again. No, nope, I didn’t mean literally dead, no. Yeah, I was talking about a video game. Yes, I suppose it could have been misconstrued. No, you’re right, someone would have to be very dumb to jump to the conclusion that Heffa was dead from that one ambiguous conversation. It’s good that you called back to check. Okay, I’ll tell her you called, bye again.’

‘For crying out loud, Joe, who was that?’ I demanded.

‘Huh? Oh, on the phone? It was Teddy someone, Teddy Cutlety? He’s glad you aren’t dead, says, “Hi.” Ow!’ Joe screamed in pain as the joypad smashed on his forehead.

‘Why didn’t you let me talk to Teddy, you hairy moron? I think you’d better go. That’s quite enough “fun” for one evening, and if Teddy calls back, I think I’d rather you weren’t here.’

Joe looked upset as he gathered his stuff together. ‘Okay, Heff, I need to go and meet the others now anyway.’

At the door, I tried to reassure Joe, just in case I needed him later on. ‘That was fun, Cahontas. I’ll see you tomorrow, maybe you can think of some other games we can play together?’

His mood brightened, and I let him give me a goodnight lick on the forehead. I waved goodbye and closed the door. I felt bad. We had had a fun evening – I’d nearly forgotten about Teddy until a minute ago, and that was all thanks to Joe Cahontas. But then, Teddy had called. Maybe he did still love me, and maybe Joe could get lost after all. It was very confusing. I needed to get some sleep.

I got into bed, but I was still wide awake. What if Teddy called back? I couldn’t risk missing him again. I thought about the play we’d started studying in English today, Antony and Cleopatra. It seemed to have many convenient resonances with the events of my own life. Teddy was just like Antony, callously abandoning me to swan off to Rome, or Romania, or wherever he had gone. If I wanted him to come back, I would have to prove how much I loved him by pretending to be dead, just like Cleopatra did.

The phone rang again. I answered and recognized Teddy’s voice on the other end of the line.

‘Hello? Sorry about that, I ran out of change. Can I speak to Heffa please?’

I lowered my voice and answered. ‘No, sorry, Heffa’s dead. She stabbed herself in the chest with an asp, and died with the name “Antony” on her lips.’

‘Antony? Who the hell is Antony?’

‘Um, not Antony. Sorry, she died with the name “Teddy” on her lips.’

‘Well, I suppose that’s better, but why do you insist on playing such silly games? Do you have any idea how much it costs to phone Spatula from Romania? I’m just phoning to check you’re okay, and haven’t done anything stupid in my absence, like base jumping.’

He’d seen through my ruse, how frustrating. But he did sound concerned about me, so on balance I was glad I wasn’t dead.

‘Teddy, why did you leave me? I can’t stand it, I can’t go on, it’s really boorrring without you. When are you coming back?’

‘Soon, my darling, soon. Just be strong and remember that I …’

The line went dead. Typical, even the Romanian phone company was determined to keep us apart.

Hearing Teddy’s voice in my ear had been sweet agony, and all the feelings I’d managed to suppress while I was with Joe came rushing back. The hole in my head returned, as large and painful as ever, and I tossed and turned for ages before drifting into a fitful, dreamless sleep.

chapter 13

ruff and tumble

I didn’t meet up with Joe the next day at school. I spent the morning mulling over the events of the day before. Joe was fun to be around, he really seemed to care about my happiness and he was, y’know, right there. Teddy was my soulmate, but on the other hand, he had left me, swanning off to Romania for two whole weeks. Could any relationship survive that kind of trauma?

I went to find Miss Shirley in her office. She had a good head on her shoulders. ‘Miss Shirley, I need your advice.’

‘Of course, Heffa, sit down.’ She gestured for me to join her on the window seat.

‘I love my boyfriend, Teddy, but he’s really upset me by going away. Is it okay to come on to one of my male friends while he’s gone, just so he gets jealous enough to come back?’

‘Well, don’t you think you might run the risk of ruining your relationship with both of them? Wouldn’t it be better to be honest about your feelings, rather than callously and calculatingly moving people around in your life like they were pieces on a chessboard?’

She was frowning at me, but her milky old eyes were filled with kindness. She was trying to give me the best advice she could – it wasn’t her fault that her old-fashioned morals were hopelessly outmoded in today’s media-saturated, hyper-sexualized society. I’d simply have to solve this one myself. Maybe I just wouldn’t tell Teddy about Joe and me: that seemed like a realistic and uncomplicated solution.

I thanked Miss Shirley for her help and left. I still wasn’t sure what the best thing to do was, though. Where else could I turn? Dad? The only emotions he felt were joy when his team won the game, and sadness when they didn’t. My other school friends? Experience told me that they would be strongly on the side of faithfulness, and would likely know a catchy song about it, too.

Suddenly, the answer came to me. Trashy women’s magazines! They’d been a fantastic source of information about vampires, I was sure that they would provide me with the moral compass I needed now.

I left school and drove to the Economart to scoop up the latest issues of all my favorite mags. As I left the store, I saw Joe Cahontas, Fidaux and the others trying to jimmy open a gumball machine. They didn’t notice me, engrossed as they were in their act of petty larceny, so I put my head down and dashed for my car, hoping to get away without any awkward conversation.

I was halfway across the lot when I felt a hand grab my shoulder. I dropped the magazines as I was spun back around, and looked up, expecting to see Joe.

It wasn’t him, though: it was a tall, blond boy I didn’t recognize. He was tanned and wore a blazer over a blue linen shirt. He was accompanied by two other blond, chino-clad, well-groomed youths. The overall impression of moneyed smartness was slightly spoiled by the dirty bandages covering their hands. Their eyes were hidden by their Ray-Bans, but they were all smiling at me with perfect white teeth.

‘You’re Heffa Lump, aren’t you?’ said the guy who’d grabbed my shoulder. I nodded suspiciously. ‘You really should come and see us at Spatula Country Club, I think you’d fit right in. I’d love to take you out on the lake and watch you handle my twenty-footer.’

‘I think you must have the wrong person …’ I turned to leave, but he stepped in front of me.

‘No, it’s you we want, Heffa Lump. The Reshuffle is imminent, and you must join us or die.’

The Reshuffle? I’d heard that phrase before. From Ms Crabtree? Or from Joe? What did vampires and werewolves and preppies have in common, and what did it have to do with me? I didn’t really want to die, but I didn’t think my feet were the right shape for deck shoes either …

Before I could think of an answer, one of the other boys screamed: ‘Brad, look!’

He pointed towards the other side of the street. I turned, and saw – to my horror – a groaning horde of zombies emerging from the alley next to the hardware store, heading straight for us. I stood rooted to the spot with terror. Zombies, right here in the center of Spatula, in broad daylight, and my protector on the other side of the world!

The preppy trio hovered indecisively, as scared of the approaching zombies as I was. As the horde crossed the street and entered the lot, I heard their gold chains clinking in time with their rhythmic shambling. The lead zombie was pointing at me, moaning, ‘We neeeed herrrr braiiinsss’ to encourage the others. Crap. Where was the Post-it note to save me from this, Teddy?

Brad the preppie snapped out of his paralysis. ‘We can’t let those filthy zombies snatch her. Grab her, my brothers. We’ll take her back to the fraternity house; she’ll be very slightly safer there.’

Before I could protest, his sidekicks seized my arms and started to drag me behind Brad, who was making for a silver saloon car. I struggled, but they held me tightly. They were much stronger than they looked; they’d probably done gymnastics at prep school. We reached the car, and as they turned me around to shove me inside, I spotted Joe Cahontas and the others, still selfishly struggling with the gumball machine, completely oblivious to my predicament.

I screamed at the top of my voice: ‘Joe, help me, I’m being kidnapped!’

To my relief, the four of them looked up. Joe gestured to the others and they sprang into action. Joe and Sweep immediately headed towards me, while Fidaux and Laddie started to run at the approaching zombie horde with long, loping strides.

When the latter duo were a few meters away, they leaped into the air, arms outstretched before them. There was a concealing wisp of grayish special-effect smoke, and then they landed. But where a moment before had been the familiar, lanky, hairy forms of Laddie and Fidaux, there now stood a pair of giant, slavering wolves, at least six feet high at the shoulder. They were an impressive sight, although I did think a proper transformation sequence might have been a lot cooler than a momentary puff of smoke.

They fell upon the zombies, their claws and teeth rending through putrefied flesh like Joseph Kelledy’s meat slicer through a leg of ham. I looked away in disgust. The werewolves’ brutal dismembering was effective, but totally savage and animalistic, with none of the balletic grace of Teddy’s family.

Joe and Sweep had transformed, too. They crouched a few feet away from us, eyeing the preppies hungrily. The huge black wolf that Joe had become bared its teeth and growled.

Brad gestured to his friends to let me go, and they seemed only too happy to comply. The three of them backed slowly away and then clambered into their car. As they pulled away, I heard Brad say, ‘H-head for the Gap, will you, Chad? I think I might need a new pair of chinos.’

Fidaux and Laddie stalked across to join us; their fight with the zombies had been as brief as it was one-sided. I rushed over to the black wolf and hugged his mane with relief. ‘Oh thank you, Joe, I thought I was finished for sure that time. If you turn back to your human form, there’s a big kiss waiting for you.’

The wolf grinned, its tongue lolling out of its mouth. I waited. The four wolves stood before me, tall and fluffy and majestic. Wolf-Joe cleared its throat and gestured with a toss of its head.

‘Oh right, sorry,’ I said, and turned my back. I caught a whiff of transformation smoke and then, a second later, Joe’s once-more-human arm reached over my shoulder, holding a handful of bills.

‘Would you mind popping into the store and buying us some more clothes?’ he said. ‘It’s kind of chilly out here.’

‘Oh sure, I’ll just be a minute,’ I agreed, trying my best not to think about where the money had been stashed.

‘We’ll be hiding behind that dumpster,’ Fidaux added. ‘And get some Pepto-Bismol, will you? I think I ate some bad meat.’

I rushed back towards the store, concentrating very hard on not looking at anything at all. Ten minutes later, I was being driven home in Joe’s van. I felt safe in his company, and of course I was grateful to him for saving me, but I wasn’t happy.

‘Joe, that’s the second time that the zombies have come after me, not to mention that I’ve been attacked by goths, and kidnapped by vampires, and manhandled by preppies. There’s something deeply weird going on in Spatula, and I think you know what it is. If you want this ride to finish with a happy ending, you’d better let me in on what everyone else already seems to know.’

‘I’ll tell you what I can, Heffa,’ he agreed, more eagerly than I’d anticipated.

‘Well, first of all, I keep hearing about something called The Reshuffle that’s supposed to happen soon. What’s that?’

‘I’m not entirely sure. I’ve heard the werewolf elders talk about it, but it sounds a bit crazy to me.’

‘Stop stalling, Cahontas.’

He looked across at me, almost apologetically, and continued. ‘Well, I’m a werewolf, right? And you already know all about vampires and zombies?’

I nodded, and he went on. ‘Well, all the supernatural beings in the world are connected to each other, and they exist in a sort of a – what’s the word? – a hierarchy, with the most important creatures having certain powers and privileges over the ones lower down. You follow me?’

‘Is that why you hate vampires so much, because they’re higher up the pecking order than you?’

I was guessing, but Joe’s angry reaction told me I was right.

‘Honestly, I don’t even care about the stupid hierarchy. I don’t even believe it makes any difference, but those lousy vampires are so snooty about it. They get all high and mighty just ’cos they’re number one on some stupid list. It’s totally lame.’

‘Okay, okay, you don’t care about the list, fine. But you still haven’t told me what The Reshuffle is.’

‘All I know is, each creature has a favored subculture, and the more kids there are who follow that lifestyle, the more powerful those creatures become, and the ones with the most support will be numero uno when The Reshuffle comes.’

‘Of course, that explains why that horrible Ms Crabtree had all those goths hanging round. They were her support, right?’

‘You got it. The vampires have been feeding the teens round here Emo for weeks, hoping to get an army together. The hip-hop kids that are always hanging out in the park are rooting for the zombies. They’ve been tight ever since Thriller. And all the punks are shouting for the banshees. They love a good caterwaul.’

‘How about the preppies who attacked me today, which ghoul or ghost do they support?’

‘The preppies?’ He sneered dismissively. ‘They’re total mummies’ boys.’

‘My goodness, it all makes sense now. This Reshuffle must be coming soon, right? You can hardly move in this town for youth culture.’

‘I guess so. Whatever it is, wherever it takes place, it’s definitely on its way. It’ll probably happen within the next sixty pages or so.’

I was silent then. This was a lot to absorb; these supernatural machinations had been going on right under my nose ever since I’d arrived in Spatula, and I hadn’t noticed a thing. It didn’t really affect me one way or the other, though. Except …

‘This has got something to do with me, hasn’t it? Tonight, the preppies and the zombies were both after me, and the first time I heard about The Reshuffle was when those goths tried to recruit me. They all think I can help them win The Reshuffle somehow, don’t they?’

‘I don’t understand that part, but it does seem like it, yeah.’

So Spatula was full of warring supernatural tribes, and the one thing they had in common was that they were all after me. That was so unbelievably thoughtless of them. I wasn’t some pawn to be shoved this way and that, I was the narrator. I shivered as if a thousand demons had just paraded over my grave. ‘I’m scared.’

Joe smiled, and for a second he made me feel like it was all going to be fine. ‘Don’t worry, Heff, you got Joe Cahontas and his fearsome werewolf clan to protect you.’

‘That’s a point, where’s your army of supporters?’

‘Ah, I told you, we don’t really care about this Reshuffle crap, so we didn’t bust our nuts with a recruitment drive. What does it matter who’s number one?’

‘Wow, Joe, you’re so cool. I wouldn’t be surprised if you won anyway.’

‘Thanks, you’re pretty cool, too.’ He turned to look at me, serious now. ‘I got you, though, right? You’ll be my supporter, won’t you?’

I looked back at Joe’s sweet face and those puppyish brown eyes, and I came very close then to blurting out something that I wouldn’t be able to take back. Then the image of Teddy dripping with gore as he battled the goths flashed heatedly through my mind.

In the end, I said nothing. I knew that soon I would have to choose between my virile vampire and my winsome werewolf. Between losing my Eternal Cool or taking more and more reckless chances.

Then again, maybe the zombies would kill me and eat my brains first.

chapter 14

The Diary of Young Teddy, Aged 30 2⁄3

DAY 1 WITHOUT HEFFA. PEOPLE KILLED: 0 (BRILLIANT, KEEP IT UP). CATS KILLED: 3 (BUT FAIRLY SURE THEY WERE FERAL). HOURS SPENT SUBSUMED IN MISERY: 18 (DISAPPOINTING, BUT IT IS FIRST DAY).

Arrived Romania after overnight flight from Berlin surrounded by people who stank of blutwurst; had to go into toilets a few times to calm down. Am determined to best control issues. Bobbi suggested Heffa could tie me up, but I’m not sure whether that would work; I might just break free. Bobbi said if I didn’t know, she couldn’t tell me, and then went and giggled with Jack for a while.

Two of them are so juvenile. Wish they’d act their age. Heffa is only seventeen, but already so much more mature than either of them.

Father was no use, of course – just said ‘ripe indeed’ and started one of his interminable stories about a girl he once bit. I’m so fatigued by my family. A break will be good for me, even though my soul aches hard for my Heffa.

Stewardess on flight kept accosting me as I emerged from toilets to ask if I wanted to join a club. I said I was already member of most fearsome club that exists (i.e. vampires, but was more mysterious at the time).

She shrugged and said yes, she’d thought I might be gay, but no harm in trying. Not sure how my drawn and wearied countenance could be confused with gaiety; all very perplexing, the living are strange.

How I long for Heffa! Only she can understand what I’m going through. I thought briefly this afternoon of just going home, but must suffer through this self-imposed exile to prove my love. I believe that was my reasoning, anyway; it all seems a bit tenuous now I am miles and miles away. What if she finds someone else while I’m gone? Not sure I could survive knowing she was with someone else, would have to kill either her or myself, or both. Either way it would be messy. Father would be so proud.

Exchange family’s house v. disappointing. Was expecting thatched cottage in midst of woodland; instead, cab driver left me at large gray tower block surrounded by other large gray tower blocks. Not at all soothing, I must say, the aesthetics are terrible. Lots of poorly lit alleys and underpasses a plus, though – a good place for pouncing. Host family tried to explain something about communes when I complained re: ugliness, but not sure why them being hippies is any excuse for an infatuation with concrete. Poor show all round.

According to family, nearest forest is about 50 miles away. Rather tiresome to have to travel so far for dinner; consequently, dined on three scrawny felines I found in stairwell instead. Still hungry now, but Bobbi swears by a cat diet when she’s trying to keep trim, so I’m sure I’ll get used to it.

Host mother screamed an awful lot when she returned home: v. protective of her sofa covers, I think, but I’m sure the blood will come out no problem. Some people are so overdramatic. Had to retreat to my bedroom to shut out shrieks and bellows. This is NOT restful.

Lay on the bed all night, wondering if Heffa misses me yet. Am not going to call her. She has to call first.

DAY 2 W.H. HOURS SPENT HUNTING: 7 (BEARS 4, WOLVES 7, RABBITS 18, GOATS 25, PEOPLE 3 – WHOOPS, WILL GO BACK ON WAGON TOMORROW). HOURS SPENT SUBSUMED IN MISERY: 5 (V. GOOD; HUNTING EXCELLENT DISTRACTION).

Depressing day. Heffa didn’t call. Think perhaps I forgot to give her my number when I was tearing myself away from her. Buggeration.

Mood made worse by utter overreaction from host family viz cats/blood/sofa combination. Fear one of the pussies I was eating belonged to host mother. It was an accident! Tried to explain, but they persisted in their waving of garlic/crosses/holy water etc. Pointed out I was romantic lead not villain, and also they were meant to be amusing foreign comic relief.

To no avail, though: they continued with the curses and the thrusting of stakes. Frankly, I found it all rather Freudian. No idea what their problem is, but decided probably prudent to leave them to it. I thought Europeans were welcoming and hospitable; feel I was sadly misled. Also, now homeless.

Went into the local town in search of distractions, but no one seemed to know of any secret torture dungeons nearby; in fact, my questions seemed to provoke dismay. No luck at tourist office either, but I did get leaflets with directions to local caves, funfair and ‘DracuLand’, so trip not a total waste of time. Decided to leave the town and look for more stimulating company. So far, holiday hasn’t been at all what I was hoping for.

Felt somewhat depressed again as I ran through Romanian countryside, and so took a detour into the forest to let off some steam. Romania still has bears! And wolves. Mood considerably better after a few hours in the woods, though I do feel a bit guilty about the hikers – v. difficult to tell difference between fur and anorak when in a hurry.

Overall, then, a good day, despite inauspicious beginnings: I barely thought about Heffa at all as I tore beasts limb from limb. Bobbi is right; bloodbaths are very therapeutic and also good for skin. I feel years younger.

DAY 3 W.H. TOURIST ATTRACTIONS VISITED: 1. VAMPIRES MET: 0 (SADLY). AMERICANS MET: 20. AMERICANS KILLED: 0 (GO ME!). HOURS SPENT IN HOLLOW PIT OF DESPAIR: 9 1/2.

Sunk in gloom again. ‘DracuLand’ a total failure. I stayed at this youth hostel specially so I could join the trip, and got herded onto a bus with twenty young blonde Americans, who kept sniggering at each other and putting on silly accents and nibbling at each other’s necks.

Thought about explaining how disrespectful this was of my culture and then killing them all, but decided not to as a) Heffa likely to be disappointed in me and b) Dracula likely to be angry that his takeout had been eaten en route. V. clever idea to persuade victims to come to you!

Arrived at Castle Vlad to find it was made of concrete, just like every other building here. Would have expected better of Prince of Darkness, but reminded self that times are hard for everyone. Irritating peasant in cheap smock and bad wig led us round castle. I suspected his hump was less than genuine. Again, comforted myself with notion that it must be hard to get good staff these days. Though I was going to have something to say about it in the visitors’ book!

Nonetheless, was v. excited about meeting the old boy, and possibly getting him to sign an autograph in blood for Heffa. She seems fascinated by vampires, so I was sure she’d be thrilled.

Not sure when it began to dawn on me that Dracula was not, in fact, living there, despite all the posters. I first had my doubts when the guide explained about Vlad the Impaler being the origin of the myth (MYTH?), and gave various other explanations of the legend (LEGEND?!). Then we were shepherded into a small room, where a pale girl lay asleep on a four-poster bed, and I began to cheer up – this was much more in keeping, and I was glad to see the old ways still being practiced.

Was considering when would be best time to introduce myself – was secretly hoping to get an invite for dinner – when, of all things, a HUMAN in a cape, wig and bad white make-up sprang into room and shouted, ‘I haff come to suck your blut!’

Some of the Americans screamed, but I could tell they didn’t mean it. It was all fake! Felt sullied. Our heritage, abused for the mindless pleasure of idiots. I didn’t even think killing the wannabe ‘Dracula’ would make me feel better, so I just sat at the back of the minibus, listening to the appalling tourists laugh at the cheesiness of it all and talk about who wanted to give whom a good staking. I felt like they didn’t mean ‘staking’ literally, but couldn’t decide what hidden meaning might be.

Feel lack of Heffa more than ever, she’s got such a way with words, she’s told me several times how good she is with her tongue. I’m sure she could have explained why they found concept of poking each other with long, hard stakes so alluring.

Will stop writing now, as someone is knocking at the door; at least, will stop writing once have written about how someone is knocking at door … dammit, this journal style is REALLY hard.

*

AmerIcans brllant., later in ev’ning now, went to bar w. them introdecued to new drink can’t remember name but def green so must be good 4 you. told all abt being evil night-stawking bl’dthristy beast they were so suportive all cheered toasted me brilliant friends love them all. Martha said could stalk her anytime might take her upon that latrr. Sleepy now, s’weird, dont’ even sleep. Heffa … hair so lovely., black as bat wing, something like that, Heffa my darling …

DAY 4 W.H. KILLS: 0. MINUTES SPENT GRIEVING: 8. HOURS SPENT BROODING: 15 (NOT EVEN ASHAMED, TODAY HAS BEEN TERRIBLE).

Head feels like someone has gouged hole in it with hammer. Horrible. In cold light of morning, am not feeling so friendly towards Americans. Suspect drink contained alcohol of some sort. Would kill them all if only I could move without room spinning. May never be able to face Heffa again. Am addict. The shame of it. Must call her and admit my weakness. Will she ever forgive me?

WORST DAY EVER. HEFFA DEAD. LIFE MEANINGLESS. DEATH IMMINENT.

Correction. Heffa still alive. Am torn between joy and anger. Not sure what happened to be honest, all v. confusing. Rang up to confess all re: succumbing to temptation in form of greenish liquid; her phone was answered by voice I didn’t recognize. Asked to speak to light of life/other half of existence/perfect figure of womankind.

Unknown voice: ‘No, I’m sorry, she’s dead. She’s totally dead, I blew her head off with a shotgun.’

The assailant callously gave me further details as I pleaded with him to say it was not so; I assume he wished to torture me the more, but I was no longer listening. A hysterical grief washed over me. I had found soulmate, only to lose her. Oh, cruel irony of fate.

Words cannot express despair I felt at that moment. Like a dark, dark, black, dark, black, bleak, dark hole in the center of everything.

Spent two minutes planning memorial I would construct to my beloved’s memory, a large museum where her beloved corpse could lie in state; or possibly I could name a star after her, or a rose garden. And then I would live a long, pointless existence full of suffering, as I’m sure she would have desired.

Thought occurred to me that I should find out details so I’d know what to write in epic poem I was midway through composing, so I called back. Turned out, they were talking about one of those newfangled computer games, ‘World of Woecraft’ or something. Newspapers always said they drive people to murder; can see why now.

Still, must remember to be positive, it was all an honest mistake and an unfortunate, unbelievable coincidence. Heffa is still alive. Glad I thought to check, otherwise who knows what might have happened?

Yet I fear she is under some strange spell; when I called again to hear her dulcet tones and to reassure myself of her safety, she pretended to be dead AGAIN. Am v. troubled by her behavior. And who is this Antony, anyway? Do I have rival? All bloody complicated, frankly, and makes my head hurt.

I think I might cut short my time here. It’s been a bit of a letdown so far, and Heffa seems to be enjoying herself far too much without me. Must return to make sure she is still moody and still mine. Perhaps turning her into a vampire isn’t such a bad idea after all, at least I wouldn’t have to worry about her dying if she was already dead, seems sensible. Will spend a couple more days hunting, then return home.

DAY 5 W.H. MILES TRAVELED: 300 (DARN TRUCK DRIVER). VAMPIRES KILLED: 1 (HAH!). PIECES OF OMINOUS NEWS RECEIVED: 2. TIME SPENT WORRYING ABOUT HEFFA: ALL DAY.

A most troubling and portentous day! Can’t believe what I’ve learned. (Deep breaths, Teddy, the flow of oxygen is calming even if unnecessary.) Will start from beginning; must try to get things in order, hopefully will make more sense.

Went hunting early – I caught the scent of what I thought was wild boar and tracked it for most of the morning. Unfortunately, turned out I was following a truck of pork products on its way to Bratislava. Worry sometimes I am not terribly good at hunting, but I make up for it in enthusiasm.

I retreated to nearby woodland and was spending a cheery half hour making daisy chains out of rabbit entrails as a love token for Heffa, when I was distracted by the sound of sniggering. Looked around to see vampire from Spatula – Baz or Boz or something. Felt even more perturbed about hunting skills since I hadn’t even heard him approach.

Anyway, immediately launched into spirited rendition of ‘You Are My Sunshine’, which wiped the smile off his face. Take that, smirking vamp! Once I’d finished off the second verse – with verve and tempo, if I do say so myself– he was pressed up against nearest tree with his hands over his ears, pleading with me to make the noise stop. No appreciation for music at all. I sang first line of ‘Here Comes the Sun’ and moved in for the kill.

Will try to write exactly what he said as I feel sure it must mean something, though all rather obscure at the moment.

Me: Hello. My name is Teddy Kelledy. You harmed my Heffa. Prepare to die.

Him: I know who you are, jeez, unoriginal much? Is there any genre you won’t pastiche, you disgrace of a vampire?

Me: You won’t be so sanguine when your blood has run dry! (Was quite pleased with wordplay, I must admit.)

Him: Oh, just stake me already. It doesn’t matter. Once The Reshuffle happens and the New Moan rises, the true vampires will take control, and we’ll get rid of you – and your little girlfriend, too.

Me: Now who’s being unoriginal? Wait, what?

Him: The New Moan? The Reshuffle? Man, are you guys such lame vampires you didn’t even get the memo – aaaaargh.

Sadly, at this point my ire got the better of me and I accidentally uprooted the nearest tree, beat his arms and legs into a pulp of blood and bones with it, and then impaled it through his evil black heart. Probably a little rash; I might have found out more details if I’d held off a few more minutes. Still, at least there won’t be any loose ends to reappear at any moment when Stephfordy thinks there’s a need for increased tension.

Also, I do have vague and mysterious threat to Heffa to deal with now – investigating that and sorting out whatever it is might provide climax after the last hundred pages of unresolved sexual tension! What did he mean about the New Moan?

I returned to the youth hostel and practiced my ‘resolved’ face in mirror till I felt able to make a resolution. And this was it. I shall go and visit D’Arcy D’Acula, the coolest, most romantic vampire of all. If he finds us worthy, he’s sure to help Heffa and me. Conveniently, he lives just a few miles away. I will set out on the morrow and not rest until I have answers!

DAY 6 W.H. KILLS: 0 (HURRAH, V. GOOD). TIME SPENT SHIRTLIFTING: 1 HOUR (BUT ALL IN NAME OF ART).

D’Arcy D’Acula resides in town of Boubcharest. Guidebook calls it ‘one of the most stimulating Romanian locations – good for wine, women and song, and be sure not to miss the festival of St. Voluptua, which has to be seen to be believed!’ I knew D’Acula would pick only the classiest locations to hang out in.

Anyway, sprinted over there early in the morning and found it just as I had imagined, all cobbled paths and red-brick houses and cute little shutters on the windows. Found a passing yokel and complimented him on authentic Eastern Europeanness of his home; he just shrugged and told me that the ‘set’ usually impressed Americans, but of course he actually lived in the tower blocks on the outskirts like all the locals. Why must people persist in shattering my dreams?

Demanded to know where D’Arcy D’Acula was. Yokel consulted watch. ‘Probably shooting,’ he said, and gave me directions to the ‘studio’. I decided ignoramus probably meant shooting range or forest, I couldn’t imagine what D’Acula would be shooting in a studio, but was sadly mistaken, and the day took a most disquieting turn from here on in.

The ‘studio’ lay a little out of the town, in a twin set of domed buildings. I joined a merry throng of young men and women at the gates; young women in a most disgraceful display of undress – I could see almost all of their skin and had to fight hard to control myself. Men smelt overpoweringly of cologne and had styled hair and sometimes toolboxes. I wondered if they were day laborers looking to help with plumbing and so on.

Eventually, the gates opened and we were ushered inside; men went one way and I followed. Found myself shut into a room with a bed with a velvet counterpane and a table next to it with collars and a lead. Horrible – why do people let pets into their bedrooms? So unhygienic.

‘Darling, yes, perfect, what a figure!’ someone exclaimed enthusiastically, and I turned to see D’Arcy D’Acula himself.

He was wearing a white shirt and leather pants, and had a neatly trimmed pencil moustache and elegantly slicked-back hair. He gestured to an assistant: ‘Arpatz, more water!’ A rather buff type with a chiseled quiff heaved a bucket of water over him, rendering his shirt translucent. D’Acula shook himself; shining droplets flew everywhere. Could see his muscles rippling under his clinging shirt. Have to admit I was quite starstruck, gulped a little before I gathered myself.

‘D’Arcy!’ I declared, ‘I have come to throw myself on your mercy.’

‘Throw yourself on some other thing and we might get somewhere,’ D’Acula smiled at me with his renowned grace and elegance. Then frowned – ‘Wait, are you a vampire?’

Explained that I was Joseph Kelledy’s son and had come to consult him on matter of utmost urgency, had heard rumors of an impending event involving something called The Reshuffle and a New Moan and was concerned for my lady love, Heffa Lump. Would he help me?

D’Acula looked rather misty-eyed. ‘Ah, The Reshuffle, if only I were young again! How time does fly. I had no idea one was due. And dear Joseph, tell me, how is he? Still persisting with his ridiculous “no killing” ethics?’

‘Indeed he is,’ I said proudly. ‘Well, most of the time.’

Begged D’Acula again to explain what this dread occurrence was. He stroked his moustache thoughtfully and asked what it was worth to me. Of course, I swore I would do anything, anything, for my Heffa.

D’Acula took me on tour of his studio. Explained he was entertaining himself in his undeath by making romantic and educational films for both living and dead. What an artist, gentleman and egalitarian; felt myself quite overcome with awe. He said he had been sadly let down by one of his stars, who’d gone for a walk in the woods and never returned. Would I consider taking his place? And then, once I’d done him this favor, he would answer all my questions.

Naturally, I agreed with alacrity. He took me into a room made to look like a restaurant, all done up in red velvet and satin. A man of such taste! I asked what my motivation was in scene. He said I was to think about being really, really hungry.

A young woman entered, wearing black skirt, corset and little white apron – the waitress, I presumed.

‘How can I serve you today?’ she asked.

I suggested seeing a menu might be a start. D’Acula frowned and thrust a script towards me. The title page said: ‘Fangs for the Mammaries’. Mammaries? Were they that tribe from New Zealand?

‘No time to read the script now!’ D’Arcy said, and told me to take my shirt off. A kind suggestion; it was rather hot in there. Rehearsed scene for an hour or so; D’Acula’s main advice to think ‘hungrier! hungrier! starving!’ but not sure this really helped me uncover my character’s personality.

The girl was definitely NOT a method actress, am fairly sure no real waitress would lean quite so far forward over table to lay out cutlery, nor attempt to lick her customers’ necks. Didn’t really understand the specials menu, either – almost made it sound as if I was to eat the waitress not the food!

Still, this is foreign country etc., and the film is almost certainly art house, therefore not expected to make sense. Must return tomorrow to run through the final scene. Think budget will be much higher than for today’s paltry production; D’Arcy kept talking about ‘filming my money shot’.

I returned to hotel to write down progress so far. Must admit, I am a little disappointed – was hoping that D’Acula would simply answer questions so I could be with Heffa once more. But suppose that one must prove oneself worthy of his patronage. Considered letting Heffa know what I was up to, but decided not to worry her. After all, what could possibly go wrong?

chapter 15

going all the way

(to romania)

Another day passed in a slow, agonizing mist of sadness and pain and confusion. I was just trying to decide if anyone had ever been so strong in the face of unending adversity as I, when my reflections were interrupted by Bobbi crashing through the door. ‘Oh, thank goodness you’re here – it’s an emergency!’

Honestly, couldn’t she knock? I was right in the middle of soul-searching, where were her manners?

‘What is it, can’t it wait till morning? All this late-night drama is doing terrible things to my skin, I’m getting positively aged. I don’t know how Chump is going to afford all the lotions I need.’

Bobbi looked wildly at me. All her poise seemed to have deserted her. Her hair was disheveled, her shoes untied, she looked utterly insane. ‘It’s the worst news – it’s Teddy!’

It was a good thing I was already sitting down, as I felt sure I would have collapsed otherwise. My mind raced through all the possibilities. Perhaps he’d found someone else, some Romanian seductress, or perhaps he’d been kidnapped by white slavers or brainwashed or murdered. Nothing Europeans got up to would surprise me.

Somehow, I found the inner strength to articulate my worst fear. ‘He’s dead, isn’t he? Or deader. Oh, Bobbi, tell me he’s not dead!’

‘Not yet,’ Bobbi said urgently, ‘but I fear he will be. Look at this headline!’ She waved her phone in front of my face, and I saw the Stawker splash: ‘Haughty Heart-throb to Star in Romanian Rumpfest.’

‘What does this mean?’ I yelled, throwing the evil device away from me and out of the window.

‘Gee, thanks. I was going to use that to call Teddy and talk him out of it. Now we’ll just have to go and stop him ourselves. Oh well, I suppose a race against time will be fun.’

‘A race where? Tell me what’s going on!’

‘Don’t you get it? Teddy’s agreed to be in one of D’Arcy D’Acula’s blue movies! A porn film, Heffa. Even you must have heard of those. He’s committing career suicide! We must fly to Romania this instant and stop him.’

I swayed, the world graying around me. My Teddy, stooping so low, how could he do such a thing to me? I was going to be a renowned star, and I’d never be able to associate with anyone who had a dirty movie on their IMDb page; people might have thought I was involved, too. Not to mention that his private parts belonged to me alone, and I couldn’t endure the thought of him sharing them with the world. There must have been some dreadful mistake, but Bobbi was right. Time was of the essence. I had to prevent this disaster before the death of Teddy’s career took place.

‘Quick, Bobbi, help me shift this stuff outside. I’ll need money if I’m getting a plane; it’s the only option.’

Together, we moved my dad’s TV, three-piece suite, stereo system, rare butterfly collection and Best of Humphrey Bogart DVD set onto the front lawn. I hastily scribbled a sign for passing cars: ‘All this for just $500.’ Bobbi generously offered to pay for my ticket, but naturally I said no. I was a big girl now; I had to stand on my own two feet and pay my own way.

An hour later, we’d collected enough money. Now I just had to break the news to Chump. I knew there was a way to handle this sensitively, so he’d know I was doing this for a good reason. If I explained everything to him, I was sure he’d take it well.

Chump entered just as I was about to leave, and blinked in confusion at the empty spaces where his furniture had been. ‘Say, Heffa, didn’t I have a front room before?’

‘No time to go into details, Chump. I had to sell everything, but it was pretty shoddy anyway. Think of this as a timely opportunity to upgrade,’ I said gently.

‘But, Heff, the game’s on this evening, how am I going to watch it without a TV?’

‘How can you be so heartless, Dad? This is an emergency! Gosh, no wonder Mom left you, it’s always “me, me, me” with you, isn’t it? I’m leaving now, and I’m not going to tell you where I’m going, and I may never return. So there, I hope you’re sorry now!’

And, with that, I ran out of the door to where Bobbi was waiting. I thought that had gone okay. He’d had to make it needlessly upsetting for me, of course, but I was going to be strong about it and only mention it once or twice in interviews in the future. I’d tried to be as reassuring as possible given the dramatic circumstances; I was sure he wouldn’t worry about me anyway. He was such a terrible father.

Chump did run after the car for a mile or two, waving his arms, but soon enough he clutched his chest and collapsed and we left him behind. Thank goodness for that. I was so tired of the way he kept trying to hog the limelight.

Bobbi had already booked us on an overnight flight to Romania. Finally, I had a use for that passport I’d foolishly applied for when my class went on that Geography trip. How was I to know Rhode Island wasn’t overseas? But I was glad now that I had a logical reason to be among the few US citizens with passports.

The journey was unbearable. I couldn’t sleep and the in-flight film was the Bratz movie. I couldn’t understand how that had even been made, all the characters were so dull, uncharismatic and self-obsessed; I had no idea what kids saw in it.

In the end, I distracted myself en route by contemplating all the things I was going to say to Teddy once we saw each other again. I had missed him so much; I was going to have to ignore him for ages, and probably flirt some more with Joe Cahontas, so he’d understand what he’d put me through.

Once we finally got off the plane, Bobbi raced us through customs (literally, to everyone there we must have seemed like a blur) and we joined the long queue for car hire.

‘Can’t you just steal something?’ I asked, jumping up and down in haste. ‘Or run us there, don’t you have super-speed? C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, we gotta go!’

‘Do you want us to get arrested before we get to Boubcharest? Now calm down; if you’re really good, I’ll let you buy an ice cream later.’

I was momentarily pacified, and soon after we were in the rented Vulvo G-Sputz and driving carefully through the Romanian woods. Their trees could not measure up to Spatula’s: they were spindly, thin specimens that looked pale and undeveloped, with half-grown shrubs sparse on the ground around them. The view was entirely uninspiring, and once more my mind drifted to full-blooded American wood, Teddy rugged at my side as we explored every nook and cranny of the landscape.

‘Are we nearly there yet?’

‘No.’

I waited at least a minute. ‘What about now? Are we nearly there now?’

Bobbi sighed. ‘We’ll get there on time, okay, the laws of fiction demand it, we just have to get there right at the last minute for added drama. Why don’t you read the guidebook and let me drive? I’m not used to handling stick.’

Judging from the way she and Jack were usually all over each other, I somehow doubted that, but I reached for the guidebook as instructed.

‘Hey, it says that today is the Festival of St. Voluptua. Apparently, in the fifteenth century, the Boubcharest convent was attacked by marauding rapists, and St. Voluptua saved the nuns by bearing her breasts and beating the rapists over the head with a schlonga – a large Romanian candle – while they were distracted. In memory of this, the townsfolk wear breasts in her honor and the young men have to race around town carrying their schlongas. And then there’s an orgy in the main square.’

How quaint Europeans were, and how sweet to see them keep up traditions, even ones as ridiculous and unlikely as this. I hoped we’d be able to stay and witness the orgy once we’d rescued Teddy. It was always good to help preserve local customs, and I was sure it would give us all sorts of useful ideas.

‘Ah, yes, St. Voluptua. I heard that D’Arcy D’Acula invented her in the 1950s for a laugh, and the locals decided it would be a good way to bring in some tourist money.’ Bobbi glanced over at my crestfallen face. ‘What, you didn’t think it was genuine, did you? Come on, Heffa, it’s the silliest-sounding festival in the world, obviously it’s made up.’

‘I totally knew that,’ I sniffed. Did she think I was an idiot or something? It was quite a coincidence that it was happening on this very day, though, of all the days in the year we could have come to Boubcharest. Anyone would think there was dramatic irony at work, but any narrative with me at its heart had to be an irony-free zone. There simply wasn’t room for the both of us.

It seemed like forever before we reached Boubcharest, but arrive we did at last. It took ages to find a parking space, and I was nearly crazy with tension when we finally penetrated the thick walls of the town with their schlonga-shaped battlements, and approached our goal.

The streets were crowded with partying locals and tourists. There were grown men proudly wearing St. Voluptua’s bosoms on their chests or heads, women brazenly walking the streets bare-chested, and small boys having sword fights with imitation schlongas. I barely knew where to look in this fervent celebration of fertility.

‘Wow, everyone looks like right tits,’ Bobbi said, ‘especially the people wearing them. I’ve got to take some photos. There’s a whole section on Stawker called “Mock the Foreigns”; these gap-toothed Euro-hicks are pure gold.’

How could she think of such things at a time like this? I grabbed a schlonga from a passing ten-year-old and hit her over the head with it. ‘Focus, Bobbi, we’ve got to find Teddy before he does something he’ll regret for ever!’

‘Oh, right,’ Bobbi said, and thrust herself into the throng, tossing schlonga-wielding yokels to the left and the right with gay abandon. I ran behind her as her violent rampage cleared us a path; no time to worry about the wails and moans as the festival-goers picked parts of themselves up from the ground. It served them right for getting in the way of true love.

‘Where’s the studio?’ I yelled as we ran.

‘I don’t know – I thought you knew!’

Oh Lord, did I have to do everything round here? I looked about wildly, catching sight of a convenient billboard that read: ‘D’Acula Films – So Stimulating You’ll Rise from the Dead.’ How fortuitous! I raced on, and soon found myself at the studio gates. A bored-looking attendant tried to bar my advance, but I swiftly elbowed him in the crotch and carried on running. Teddy, Teddy, I’m on my way, wait for me!

I rounded the corner, and there he was: my angel, harder than I’d ever seen him before. Time seemed to slow down. I was really tired from all the rushing about and my feet dragged on the ground. This was no time for a slow-motion montage, and yet I couldn’t help it. Time passed in dramatic flashes as I went forward …

… the sound of my panting – the clapperboard slamming down – D’Acula shouting, ‘Action! Drop ’em, Teddy boy!’ – my darling’s hand on his pants – the thud of my heartbeat – his fingers on the first button …

‘Nooooo!’ I yelled, all time for finesse long gone. When things went italic, it was really getting serious. I dived forward, knocking Teddy over just as he was about to take his pants off, and falling heavily upon him. His flesh was just as rigid and cold as I’d remembered it. I placed my hand on his as it rested on his flies and squeezed, feeling him jump at my touch. Oh, Teddy, Teddy, how close I came to losing you! How close you came to coming without me!

‘Heffa?’ Teddy blinked. ‘Is that you? What in the blazes are you doing here? D’Acula was about to blow his wad on this scene, and you’ve ruined it – now he’ll never tell me about The Reshuffle.’

‘Don’t you understand this is career suicide?!’

He didn’t answer me at first, but helped me carefully to my feet, checking me over gently to make sure that the ground hadn’t sullied my clothes or mussed my hair. That was the Teddy I remembered. Then he said, ‘What do you mean? This is an art-house movie. They’re very well respected, especially the ones where everyone’s naked all the time.’

‘Oh, my love, how sweetly naive you are. Look around you: the cheap bedroom set, the semi-naked women, the title, what did you think this was?’

‘Fangs for the Mammaries? Is that supposed to mean something?’ He looked embarrassed, probably by his endearing innocence, and changed the subject swiftly. ‘Did you come all this way to save me?’ He clutched me harder to him; I rested my hand on his unbeating heart.

‘Of course I did, my darling. I know your chances of having a career are slim-to-nonexistent, but you should have thought about me before you agreed to star in a porno. What kind of impact could it have on my future if it came out?’

He lifted me to him. ‘Oh, Heffa – am I forgiven?’

‘Oh, Teddy – of course!’ He spun me round, and for a moment it seemed as if birds sang, glitter sparkled in the air, the sun set overhead …

‘Cut, cut, cut!’ a loud, uncouth voice shouted. ‘What is this? This is not some romance, stop messing with the special effects.’

Teddy lowered me back down to earth, and we turned together to see D’Arcy D’Acula growling at a luckless technician. I glared at him. So this was the man who had lured my angel into the world of vice: a faded matinee idol with greasy hair and highly inappropriate clothing.

‘I am so disappointed,’ he proclaimed, gesturing at the two of us. ‘I thought I had found a real man for my movie, but the minute you turn up, he turns into a crybaby, a weedy teen heart-throb, bloodless, yurch, you make me sick.’ He threw the script at Teddy, but missed, and it fell at my feet. ‘You’ll never work in this town again.’

‘But we must know about The Reshuffle,’ Teddy insisted, advancing on D’Acula with his teeth bared. The sight of him all shirtless and macho like that was quite overpowering; I picked up the script and fanned myself with it. Perhaps he and D’Acula would duel to the death!

‘Hah, I should just kill you, you pathetic failure of a vampire,’ D’Acula scowled. ‘Still, it would be a shame to destroy something so pretty. I shall grant you this favor. Come with me.’

We followed him away from that dreadful place. I kept Teddy’s hand clasped tightly in mine. I wasn’t letting him go anywhere on his own. I might need his protection from the strange men with oiled muscles and jockstraps wandering the set; it was all making me feel rather dizzy.

Outside the studio, D’Acula led us to a sunken concrete pit. I peered into it, and saw a foul-smelling pile of pieces of paper, treasure maps, warp drives, MacGuffins and flux capacitors. Within it, up to their knees in garbage, a few workers picked through the mess. I gagged on the rotten stench. ‘What is this?’

‘It’s the Exposition Dump,’ D’Acula announced proudly. ‘Repository of half-baked justifications, long-winded explanations – and we’ve been diversifying into technobabble, too; it’s amazing how much people will pay for a bit of reverse polarity. What was your question again?’

‘A vampire I encountered announced there was something called The Reshuffle about to take place, and he also mentioned the rising of the New Moan. What is the nature of these events?’ Teddy asked.

‘Also, it all seems to be connected with a bunch of people trying to kill me. Tell us what the heck is going on,’ I demanded.

D’Acula motioned into the Dump. A few seconds later, a worker emerged with a soggy length of knotted string, which he handed solemnly to his master. D’Acula scanned it. ‘If this flimsy skein of narrative is to be believed, there is indeed something called the New Moan rising. Are you ready for the exposition?’

I grasped Teddy, and he nodded as we braced ourselves for an onslaught of over-detailed plot description.

‘The Reshuffle is an Ancient and Dread Time of Reckoning—’ D’Acula began.

‘Cut the capitals,’ I begged, as my ears rang with clunkiness.

‘Oh, fine. The Reshuffle is an ancient and dread time of reckoning. Once in every generation, all the supernatural tribes must join together to re-establish the esteem in which they are held in the wider world. The competition is fierce and bloody, and results in monstrous half-breeds and crossovers, but eventually one tribe wins out and is ranked above all others. Whoever wins will rule over pop culture for the next generation. Books, films, music and TV, all will be their domain.

‘But this time, something new is upon us. A rumor speaks of the arrival of a new force, something with the power to rewrite all the rules. Whoever has it on their side is guaranteed victory. It is called the New Moan, and two nights hence, in Spatula, it will rise.’

As he stopped speaking, I collapsed against Teddy, my head spinning with all the new information forced into it in the space of just two paragraphs. ‘This is going to happen in Spatula?’

‘Yes, of course,’ D’Acula said. ‘Didn’t you think the sudden rise in supernatural activity was a bit odd unless something major was about to happen?’

I felt overwhelmed with an unfamiliar emotion. ‘Oh Teddy, this is dreadful; what if I got hurt? Or you? Or I suppose it could affect Joe and my dad, as well; they’re dumb enough to jump right into fights. We’ll have to go home and save them.’

Teddy looked concerned and placed a hand softly on my forehead. ‘Heffa, are you feeling all right? That was almost … altruistic of you.’

I shook him away. ‘No time to analyze my sudden burst of selflessness; the Exposition Dump was bad enough. Quick, let’s find Bobbi and leave this skeevy town behind!’

I grasped Teddy’s hand and pulled him with me. This was really cool: I was taking the lead and making decisions; I hadn’t done this in ages. Look at me controlling the narrative!

We found Bobbi slumped against the main entrance to the town, looking dazed, and covered in red streaks.

‘Where the hell were you?’ I asked. ‘And how did you get so messy?’

‘The Boubcharesters aren’t kidding when they say they throw an orgy,’ Bobbi murmured, ‘I’ve never seen so many schlongas before.’ She glanced down at her crimson-stained attire. ‘And then, um, we all started squirting bottles of tomato ketchup at each other.’

‘Tomato ketchup?’ Teddy queried, looking sternly at his sister.

‘Old tradition,’ Bobbi insisted. ‘I definitely wasn’t making mincemeat out of people, and if you say I was, I’ll tell Father about what you did on your Romanian holiday!’

I shifted impatiently from foot to foot. ‘No time to fight, we’ve got to go, come on!’

Teddy and Bobbi followed me back to the car. Walking ahead of them, I was glad they couldn’t see the tragically conflicted expression on my face. For, in my heart, I knew that all this rushing around was not as selfless and noble as it seemed. Of course I wanted to return to Spatula and rescue my father and bask in his gratitude for the rest of my life, but more importantly, sooner or later I knew Teddy and I were going to have to talk seriously. And I wasn’t sure I knew what I was going to say to him.

Now that we were back together, the hole in my head had closed and I was filled once more with joy and self-satisfaction. I ought to have been entirely happy, but during the days without him, I’d learned something about my life: there were other people I could manipulate into doing everything for me. Did I really need Teddy to mollycoddle me when I had four were-boys around to do it?

I’d dreamed of nothing but Teddy transforming me for a long time, but suddenly I wasn’t sure I wanted it. The question was: where did that leave me in terms of my climax?

chapter 16

just a little prick

The flight home was blessedly calm and free of incident. It was a daytime flight, so Teddy and Bobbi decided to spend the whole time locked up together in one of the plane’s tiny bathrooms.

At least I could relax, without having to worry about a stray beam of sunlight through one of the plane’s hundred or so windows revealing the Kelledys’ spooky origins. The cabin of a crowded airplane wouldn’t give them many places to hide from an angry mob, and I knew that, if it came to a confrontation, Teddy would probably butcher everyone on board to preserve his secret. I didn’t want their blood on my conscience. Or on my outfit.

Teddy and Bobbi returned to their seats shortly before our final approach to Port D’Angerous Airport. I hated that Teddy and I hadn’t had time for a proper reunion yet; we had some serious catching up to do when we landed. Bobbi and I were heading for the exit before we’d even finished taxiing to our gate, but Teddy seemed reluctant to leave, murmuring something about ‘needing to get a drink from the stewardess’ and disappearing for a good five minutes.

We breezed through customs, partly because we only had hand luggage, but mostly because Stephfordy couldn’t think of anything interesting to say about being in an airport. We found Bobbi’s car in long-term parking and began the long drive home, tired but happy to be back under Spatula’s gray, looming skies.

The skies looked even grayer than I remembered them, and as we got closer to town, I began to get the feeling that something was terribly wrong.

‘Is that smoke?’ Bobbi asked from the back seat, pointing out several dark columns that were rising above the center of town.

Teddy slowed the car down to get a better look. ‘Yes, Bobbi, I think it might be. Either winter barbecues have become suddenly popular in our absence, or something has gone horribly awry.’

Some aspect of the scene ahead filled me with dread, and I looked away. We’d pulled to a halt outside St. Stephen’s Church. The building appeared to be deserted, strange for this time of the afternoon. Looking around for any signs of life, my attention shifted to the cemetery next to the church. Horrified by what I saw, I grabbed Teddy’s arm. ‘Look, the graves – they’re empty. All of them.’

It was impossible for Teddy to turn any paler, but his voice betrayed more than a hint of concern. ‘Zombies. There must have been hundreds of bodies buried here. And there are another six cemeteries within Spatula city limits – there could be thousands of the things on the loose.’

‘Don’t forget their victims, they’ll be zombies too by now!’ Bobbi added, rather more perkily than was really appropriate.

I looked deep into Teddy’s cyan eyes, hoping to find reassurance there. ‘What does it mean, Teddy? Is it The Reshuffle? Is it happening now?’

‘I don’t know. Let’s not jump to any conclusions. Perhaps it is just extremely thorough bodysnatchers.’

‘Well, come on, let’s head for Main Street and see what’s happening. We might get to kill something!’ Bobbi was enjoying herself.

We arrived on Main Street to find it deserted, but the signs of devastating conflict were everywhere. Virtually all the store windows had been hastily boarded with plywood, and the rest had been smashed in. Overturned cars in various states of destruction made progress difficult, and Teddy was forced to slalom the car between them. The hardware store had been burned out, and the last puffs of toxic smoke drifted skywards. Only the Economart seemed undamaged, as the main entrance had been blocked with a truck trailer.

The atmosphere in the car was thick with tension, and no one spoke as we scanned the streets for signs of life, or un-life. We saw none. Whatever had happened here, the fight had moved on.

‘Pull over,’ Bobbi said, tapping Teddy on the shoulder. She hopped out of the car and stepped over to a battered newspaper vending machine, from which she plucked several papers and returned, passing copies round with a victorious smile. ‘Look at the front page!’

The headline read: ‘Reshuffle Imminent: Mayor Recommends Surrender, Eternal Servitude.’

‘It’s yesterday’s paper, this must all have happened just after we left for Romania!’

Teddy pretended to inhale with shock. ‘Look at Father’s shop – it’s been burned to the ground!’ He ran off towards the smoldering remains of Kelledy’s Magnificent Meats, but returned all too soon, his perfect face smudged with soot. ‘The store is a total wreck. Machinery, stock, everything is destroyed. There was no sign of Father. We must return home, we can only hope that he is safely ensconced therein.’

I placed a calming hand on Teddy’s as he gripped the steering wheel. ‘Don’t worry, my love, I’m sure Joseph is totally ensconced.’

He nodded grimly, and gunned the engine.

We approached the Kelledy house along the twisting forest road, catching glimpses of its majestic turrets silhouetted against the darkening sky. The road was narrow and winding, but Teddy threw the car into each corner at high speed. I hoped this was confidence born of familiarity rather than recklessness.

The worried look on Bobbi’s face didn’t provide much reassurance.

We emerged from the trees and Teddy accelerated across the clearing, skidding to a halt outside his family home. He flung himself from the car and ran with inhuman speed across the drawbridge and into the house. Bobbi and I followed at a brisk trot. The stone-effect walls towered high over my head and even though I knew they were only fiberglass, I felt I would be safer within them.

As we crossed the drawbridge, I noticed the wooden shingle next to the bell rope. ‘“Comealot”, that’s a sweet name.’

‘Ha, yes, Father’s little joke. He really likes visitors, but sadly we get very few.’

She ushered me in through the large double doors. They creaked shut behind me and I heard Bobbi throw the bolts. The room we’d entered wasn’t the grand marbled entrance hall I’d imagined. We were in a one-room log cabin, which was crammed to bursting point with thick rugs, deep, comfortable-looking armchairs, and folksy knick-knacks of all kinds. The walls were lined with stuffed trophy heads.

‘Wow, is that a hippo?’ I asked, walking towards the roaring fire that crackled merrily in the stone fireplace.

Bobbi slumped onto the sofa and turned on the TV. ‘I dunno, I guess.’

I heard Teddy’s voice behind me. ‘Do you like our little home, my love?’ He was smiling now, all traces of the former tension in his face had vanished. I ran to him.

‘Oh, I really do, it’s so cozy, and your trophy collection is a masterpiece of ghoulish taxidermy. The fiberglass castle is very deceptive!’

Teddy took me by the arm, and led me towards the door he had come through, explaining as we walked. ‘Joseph built the cabin himself, nearly a century ago. When the funfair closed, he bought the castle and had it lowered into place over the original house. Since then, we’ve built upwards and outwards inside the hollow castle, adding rooms here and there as we needed them. We don’t have time for the grand tour now, though – my father wants to talk to us.’

‘He’s alive, then, thank goodness!’

‘Well, no deader than he was when we left, at least,’ Teddy chuckled. ‘He’s in his study, come on.’

The hallways of the Kelledy house were crooked and narrow, with many corners that wound left, right, and occasionally over, the various rooms that had been added over the years. The rooms themselves were dimly lit and cluttered with furniture. I ran my fingers along the top of a beautiful mahogany sideboard, confirming my suspicion that the soft lighting was more about masking the inadequacy of the Kelledys’ housework than it was about atmosphere. We were now deep in the mazy passages of Comealot. By the time we reached Joseph Kelledy’s study, I had completely lost my bearings; I wasn’t even sure what storey we were on any longer.

Teddy knocked on the door and we entered. The study was brightly lit after the gloom of the corridors, the light reflecting off the white marble tiles that covered the walls and floor. Countless animal carcasses dangled from meathooks that were attached to metal rails that ran the length of the room. Joseph Kelledy stood at a marble table in the center, whistling ‘The House of the Rising Sun’ with a jaunty air as he happily went about the business of butchering what I really hoped was just a side of beef.

‘Father managed to get all our meat from the shop before it was looted. Isn’t that wonderful?’ Teddy said.

Joseph looked up as we approached. He carefully placed his boning knives on the slab and rushed over to me, arms outstretched. His embrace was cold and reeked of carcass more than a little, but I was moved by the warm greeting.

‘Teddy has told me everything that happened in Romania,’ Joseph said. ‘I dread to think what might have come to pass if you hadn’t got there in time. That D’Arcy D’Acula is a tricky blighter and no mistake. I remember this one time, back in 1897, we were in this pub in Whitby and it was his round, and he—’

Teddy cleared his throat politely. ‘We’d love to hear that story, honestly we would, but if the destruction of central Spatula and the front page of the local paper are to be believed, we do not have the time for misty-eyed reminiscences at this precise moment.’

Joseph looked downcast, but Teddy persisted. ‘The Reshuffle, Father. We know it is imminent, but do you know when it will happen?’

‘Yes, it’s tomorrow at midnight. Look, I got sent an invitation and everything.’ Joseph reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of card. ‘An owl delivered it this morning.’

‘An owl, delivering the mail?’ I said skeptically.

‘I know, but look over there if you don’t believe me.’ Joseph pointed to a small featherless body dangling from a meathook.

I shrugged and took the invitation from him, reading it aloud: ‘You are cordially invited to The Reshuffle, where the cosmic order will be forever rewritten, with unutterable and cataclysmic consequences. Old Spatula Funfair, midnight tomorrow, drinks and canapés from 11:30. Dress to unnerve. RSVP.’

‘I take it from the owl’s presence on the sausage rack that you did not RSVP?’ Teddy asked.

Joseph shrugged sheepishly. ‘Well, I wasn’t sure I fancied it, to be honest. The werewolves will all be there, and you know how awkward that can be, and I’ve been out every night this week …’

I could see Teddy becoming tense once more, and I sensed a frustrated tirade about to be unleashed. I put my hand gently on his arm in the hope of holding him back. I had never seen two vampires fight, and although it would probably be pretty cool, I didn’t want the Kelledys arguing because of me.

Teddy’s noble brow furrowed in anger quite beautifully. ‘Father! This is intolerable. We go away for a couple of days, and when we come back, we find that you’ve completely ignored our invitation to the supernatural event of the epoch!’

Teddy grabbed me by the hand and stormed out. I struggled to keep up with him as he whisked me through the halls of Comealot. Eventually, we stopped at a door bearing the thrilling label ‘Teddy’s Room’. My breath caught in my throat. I was about to penetrate the holiest of holies. How many times had I dreamed about this moment? Several, at least, and I had the laundry bills to prove it.

Teddy opened the door and gestured for me to enter. His room was vast, hangar-like, but it was the view that struck me immediately. The wall opposite the entrance was glass from floor to ceiling, and looked out over the forest. I didn’t remember climbing any stairs, but we were at treetop height now. The leafy crowns of the vast wood spread out before me, swaying in the evening breeze as the last of the daylight shone weakly on the horizon. I was sure there was a special name for this time of day, but I couldn’t think what it was just now.

I tore my eyes away from the view, eager to soak up every detail of my darling Teddy’s boudoir. The walls and floor were concrete, hard and cool like my love. The huge space was sparsely furnished. There were a few chairs – chic, brushed-steel-and-leather contraptions – and a glass coffee table artfully strewn with fashion magazines. A fantastically complicated-looking entertainment center had pride of place along one wall. Racks of CDs lined the wall opposite. I felt dizzy trying to guess how many there were, probably thousands.

The overall effect was one of cool sophistication, tasteful and expensive without being flashy – pure Teddy Kelledy, in other words. I walked over to a glass display case. It was filled with row upon row of elegant figurines. They were brightly painted, each with its own unique outfit and accoutrements. They looked valuable.

Teddy whispered from behind me, ‘They are beautiful, aren’t they? I’ve been collecting them since I was a boy. It is my dream to possess the whole set.’ He reverentially indicated an item propped up against the back of the display case. ‘Look, Jedi Knight Luke is still in his original packaging. Let me tell you about some of my favorites.’

I nodded appreciatively, then sighed as a sudden wave of tiredness engulfed me. I sat on one of the chairs, which turned out to be built for looks rather than comfort. I picked up a photo album from the coffee table and flicked idly through its pages. There were some photos of Comealot, and Joseph’s shop, but the majority were views of the forests and hills around Spatula. They were impressively bleak.

‘Your landscape shots are wonderful, my love. Their barren emptiness evokes the tormented sadness of your existential loneliness.’

Teddy smiled apologetically. ‘Um, they’re my family snapshots, actually.’ He pointed to a photo of a forest meadow, empty except for a plaid blanket laid out in the middle. ‘That one’s my birthday picnic last year. Not sure why I bother, to tell the truth, vampires and photographic film, we don’t really get on …’

His voice trailed off, and he paced the room distractedly for a moment before sitting down on the edge of the single bed that occupied a corner of the room. He patted the bedclothes.

‘Heffa, would you join me on the bed please?’

His face was more serious than I’d ever seen it before. His brow was furrowed so deeply that a farmer would be able to plant his seed there. The air was electric with tension as I rose and stepped across the space between us. I sensed something momentous was about to happen. I sat on the bed and gazed deeply into the sensitive silver eyes that I knew so well, waiting for my love to speak his mind.

‘Heffa, you are the most important thing in my life. I would trade everything I own for your safety – all my figurines, every single one of my 2,137 AC/DC CDs. I would even give up my Eternal Cool, were that still an option. I don’t know what will happen tomorrow night, but I do know that it’s nearly the end of the book. So unless Stephfordy wants to disappoint her audience with a massive anticlimax, The Reshuffle will certainly be an extremely perilous event. Maybe more perilous than your puny human form is able to endure.’

He moved closer, and put his cold, hard hand on my trembling thigh. I knew what he was going to say before he opened his mouth.

‘I want to bite you, Heffa. I want to bite you very hard. I’ll make you a vampire, that way you’ll be safe during The Reshuffle, and we’ll be together forever.’

I said nothing, just looked down at Teddy’s hand creeping up my thigh. After a moment, he added, ‘It is what you want, isn’t it? You said you wanted it. I know you want it, I can see it in your eyes.’

My mind was in turmoil. All these months, I’d been thinking about this moment, begging for it, and now here it was, and I didn’t feel any of the joy I’d expected. I loved Teddy, of course, he was my soulmate, and we were going to be together forever, but becoming a vampire wasn’t all boned corsets and eyeliner. There were consequences, too. Was I really ready to give up my family for a life in the shadows? Well, okay, that was a no-brainer, but I’d also have to lose something more precious and irreplaceable. My Eternal Cool.

I hadn’t given the prospect much thought when Teddy had first warned me, because I’d never had any cool to lose. But during the last week, hanging out with Joe Cahontas while Teddy was in Romania, I’d started to feel differently.

When I was with Joe and The Protection Racket, I could tell the other kids were envious of our laissez-faire attitude and our general insouciance. The French kids were, anyway. The rest just admired the wittily obscure slogans on our vintage T-shirts. We were simply too cool for the Academy. I’d always dreamed of making my peers jealous of me, and finally they were. Was I really ready to give that up, forever? I wasn’t sure, and unless I was sure, there was only one answer I could give.

‘I’m sorry, Teddy. I’m just not ready.’

‘Not ready? I thought this was what you wanted? I’ll be gentle, I promise. If you really loved me, you’d let me.’

‘Oh, Teddy, of course I love you, and I do want you to bite me, but, well, it’s complicated. I want it to be special, to mean something. I’m not going to let you bite me just because the world might end tomorrow. It’s a big decision, and one we’ll hopefully have the chance to live with for a long time. There’s no hurry. Let’s just wait and see how we feel after The Reshuffle, shall we? Assuming we survive.’

Teddy crossed his arms and stood up. I could tell that he was upset, but I had to remain firm until I was sure. I didn’t want him thinking of me as just a quick snack he could gobble any time he felt like it.

‘Well, fine, if that’s how you feel. I’ll take you home, then you can curl up in your own bed like a little girl.’

He marched off towards the door. I followed him, but didn’t waste my energy trying to explain myself. It would just have to wait until he was calmer.

Bobbi and Jack were relaxing in the cozy entrance hall when Teddy and I found our way back there a few minutes later. Teddy still wasn’t speaking, but he gestured for them to join us, and a moment later the four of us were in Teddy’s car, driving swiftly away from the safe haven of Comealot.

We took the long way around town. The roads were quiet, but we could see fires burning in central Spatula. Bobbi tried to speak, but Teddy brusquely shushed her, so we sat in awkward silence all the way back to my house, the hush punctuated only by the occasional scream or gunshot carried to us on the wind.

When we pulled up outside my house, Teddy finally spoke, turning to his siblings. ‘Bobbi, Jack, you’re going to stay here with Heffa and protect her. Joseph and I will attend The Reshuffle tomorrow evening, and afterwards I’ll either come back, or we’ll all have bigger problems – of an eschatological nature, if you get my meaning.’

Bobbi nodded grimly; Jack picked his nose. Teddy turned to me. ‘You will stay here, Heffa Lump. You will not attempt to sneak away from Bobbi and Jack and take Route 9 out of town to where the old funfair sits ominously atop the cliffs overlooking town. Do you understand me?’

‘But I’ll miss The Reshuffle! Where’s my climax?’ I pleaded.

‘I gave you the chance to come with me and you declined. If you attend The Reshuffle, you will surely die. Despite your stubborn truculence regarding the matter of the biting, I find I do not want this outcome to transpire. Therefore, you will remain within your familial domicile until such time as the danger has dissipated. Do I make myself clear?’

I nodded, but did not speak. I knew Teddy was only acting for my own good, and if that meant I needed to be locked away from the world for the rest of time, then so be it. I grabbed his hand, kissed it once, and got out of the car. Bobbi and Jack followed me.

Teddy tried his best to approximate a smile. ‘Don’t worry about me. I’ve already died once, and it ain’t no thing.’ Then he was driving away.

I began to cry, and Bobbi embraced me. Jack patted the top of my head in a sympathetic manner. I was bawling now, all the pent-up emotions of the last few days spilling out of me. My one true love had gone, and the world might well end tomorrow. Who knew if we would see each other again? Crying unceasingly seemed like the only sensible response.

I heard the front door open and wiped my eyes to see my father come onto the porch. It was nice of Bobbi and Jack to comfort me, but Bobbi’s embrace was cold, and Jack’s touch was leaden. They weren’t flesh and blood like Dad. I felt the overwhelming urge to collapse in his arms and just let him hold me, like when I was a baby.

He walked down the steps towards our unlikely triad. Chump was strapped into some kind of black body armor, and several bandoliers of ammunition were draped across his chest. His left hand rested on the butt of a pistol holstered at his hip, and his right held the stock of a combat shotgun. He grinned at me, and rolled the large cigar in his mouth from one side to the other.

‘Hi Heffa. Sorry, can’t stop, all hell’s breaking loose in town, literally. Gotta get down there, zombies to kill. There’s a gun on the kitchen table in case you need it. Remember to save the last bullet. See you later, kiddo.’

He puffed a mammoth cloud of noxious cigar smoke in my direction as he passed, and I watched as he climbed astride the sleek black motorcycle that he now appeared to favor. The rear tire skidded on the path as he sped off, showering us with gravel. I stood dumbfounded for a few seconds, looking after him, and then Bobbi was leading me inside.

In the living room, the clock struck midnight. One day left until The Reshuffle. I loved Teddy for his protective instincts, but I was still the heroine of this story. My dad was out settling scores with the undead, and Teddy and his father were preparing to face off against who knew what. They were having adventures, and I had no intention of staying cooped up in my house like some Austrian girl for the next twenty-four hours. When The Reshuffle happened, I was determined to be there.

But first, I had to get away from Bobbi and Jack – and with their preternatural vampire senses, that would be no mean feat. I needed to plan my escape carefully. I announced that I was going to bed: sticking to my usual routine was the best way to avoid arousing their suspicion. Bobbi looked up and waved me a cheery goodnight. Jack just continued rocking back and forth in his chair.

As I passed through the hall, there was a knock on the door. I answered it, and found Joe Cahontas on my porch. He seemed upset, and the sight of me did nothing to brighten his expression. Before I could say hello, he shoved his long, clawed forefinger right in my face and started talking in a voice hardly quieter than a howl.

‘I won’t be here long. I can smell your filthy vampire friends inside, so I’ll let you get back to your Marilyn Manson albums in a second. Listen, Heffa, we’ve been friends, but The Reshuffle is tomorrow night, and everything’s different now. I know I shrugged it off before, but the Utensil Indian Chiefs laid it all out for me, and now I get it. The werewolves have got to be there, and we’ve got to come out on top. I know you dig the bloodsuckers, so if you’re at the funfair tomorrow night, I’ll have to assume you’re on their side. And if the shit comes down and you get in our way, I’ll have to kill you, too. That would suck, so just stay right here, will you? For me?’

Another man trying to tell me what to do with my life? I was starting to get tired of this, and Joe took the full force of my anger.

‘What is it with you boys? You don’t own me, you know. I can go out with whoever I like, and hang out with whoever I like, and go wherever I like, whenever I like. You understand me, dog-breath? It’s not enough that every supernatural entity in the area wants to kill me, now I’m not even allowed to attend the denouement of my own story? Well, forget you, buster!’

I slammed the door right in his hairy face, and stormed up the stairs to bed.

That night, I slept poorly, going over plans of escape in my head. How was I going to give Bobbi the slip? I thought about my options. I couldn’t outrun her, and I couldn’t overpower her. Maybe Dad’s gun would do the trick? How would Teddy feel about me murdering his sister? I ruled it out except as a last resort.

I was getting nowhere. When morning came, I climbed out of bed and paced impatiently around my room – before opening the curtains, and realizing that the answer was right in front of me. I smiled, and went to take a shower.

After dressing, I went downstairs, where Bobbi and Jack were sitting in the living room, just as I had left them.

‘Who’s up for some brunch?’ I asked. They nodded enthusiastically, and I reeled them in. ‘Let’s eat outside on the picnic table. It’s not raining for once.’

We all went outside to sit in the back yard. Jack chewed contentedly on a long string of sausages, while Bobbi picked daintily at a pork chop. I slid a pair of dark glasses from my pocket, and held them in my hand.

‘You guys looked bored when I came downstairs,’ I observed innocently. Bobbi shrugged. ‘It’s funny, how people can get bored of things. Like, take Stephfordy Mayo, for instance.’

Bobbi looked up now, puzzled. Jack dropped his sausages, concentrating on me.

‘I mean, she invents this piece of vampire lore where the light shines out of your asses when it’s sunny, and it’s all very new and exciting to begin with. But then the plot gets more complicated, and it gets completely forgotten about. It was sunny the whole time we were in Romania – they were in the middle of a heatwave, in fact – but it never even got mentioned.’

Bobbi and Jack began to look alarmed, and stood up. I pointed at the sun hanging high in the midday sky. ‘Look, it’s blazing sunshine right now, and not even a flicker of an ass-ray from either of you.’

The moment I pointed out this serious lapse in narrative consistency, there was a burning smell as the backs of the vampires’ pants were scorched away. The two of them staggered away from the table, screaming as blazing beams of pure white light poured from their behinds, blinding them. I slipped my sunglasses on, dived into the convenient plot hole that I’d created, and made good my escape.

chapter 17

climax

Old Spatula Funfair sat high on the cliffs about five miles out of town. It had closed down over a decade ago after one too many personal injury lawsuits. Its attractions sat rusting quietly now, probably more dangerous than ever as the passing years took their toll on the structural integrity of infamous rides like The Mangler and The Decapitron 3000.

I made my way there cross-country, careful to keep my distance from the outskirts of Spatula. The unseasonal sun beat down on me as I trampled along the half-forgotten trails that led through the woods. I was pleased to see it; at least the various undead fiends that lusted for my blood/brains/body seemed to be keeping a low profile while it was out.

Only one road led to the funfair entrance, and I was sure that it would be in heavy use as the zombies and banshees and who knew what else all headed towards the site of the coming Reshuffle. I would have to avoid the road if I didn’t want to be spotted and dismembered. I was thoroughly exhausted by the time I’d scaled the cliffs that were the only other option.

The sun was sinking towards the western horizon as I lay on the clifftop, watching it disappear. The night of the New Moan was imminent. Who knew if that friendly yellow globe would ever return? Best to enjoy it while I still could. Besides, my legs were absolutely killing me. If I knew anything about Stephfordy’s obsession with dramatic timing, The Reshuffle wouldn’t start until the stroke of midnight. There couldn’t be any harm in resting my poor ravaged body for just a few minutes …

Something howled in the distance and I startled awake. I couldn’t believe I’d gone to sleep at such a moment of high drama. Did Stephfordy want me to miss everything? It wasn’t fair! My watch said it was gone eleven, and the crescent moon was high in the sky. The Reshuffle was happening somewhere within the grounds of Old Spatula Funfair within the hour. I needed to start searching. Canapés were being served at 11:30, and I was ravenous.

A nearby signpost pointed out the fair’s former attractions. The Tunnel of Love seemed an unlikely venue, and even the damned weren’t crazy enough to go anywhere near The Decapitron 3000, so those were both out. Aha, of course: the Ghost House – that way, six hundred yards. Average queuing time from this sign, 45 minutes. I had to hurry.

I heard the sound of voices before long, and I slipped off the path into the shadows, approaching the source with catlike stealth. I could see the Ghost House up ahead. It was a rickety, two-storey wooden structure that had probably been pretty unsafe even in its heyday, and was almost certainly deadly now. I resolved to stay clear if possible; I didn’t want tetanus on top of getting killed by the undead.

There were hundreds of people and … not people … milling around outside. They were gathered into groups, some quite large, some with just a few members. Each was keeping a wary distance from the others. They talked among themselves in hushed tones, and the atmosphere was thick with anticipation. I stayed in the shadow of the arcade that faced the Ghost House, trying to catch sight of my darling Teddy, but my view was obscured by the crowd. I crept quietly up a metal staircase and hid behind the sign on the roof of the arcade.

From my new vantage point I could identify some of the groups below, either because I’d studied them in Mr. Wellbord’s class, or because they’d tried to eat me already. I spotted Joe Cahontas and the rest of The Protection Racket in their wolf forms. They were huddled in a circle outside the gift shop with about a dozen or so other werewolves, presumably discussing their tactics for the imminent Reshuffle. Over by the helter-skelter was a large group of zombies. They weren’t particularly animated; they seemed happy stumbling around and bumping into each other. How many of those things were there? I wondered. Hell must be empty.

My heart sank as I noticed the leather-coated vampires by the carousel. Teddy had destroyed their leader, Ms Crabtree, way back in Chapter 10, but they were still here in force, thirty of them at least. Some sat astride the carousel horses, while others lounged at their feet. A few paced impatiently, flexing their muscles. A tall vampire with blond hair and a cigarette in his mouth was issuing orders, but no one seemed to be paying a great deal of attention.

I glanced from group to group, spotting banshees, mummies, trolls, and even a slightly out-of-place posse of cowboys. But nowhere did I see my cold handsome Teddy or his father.

Directly below my rooftop hiding place was another small group of zombies. I wondered why they weren’t with the others, and – more to the point – why they were holding clipboards. I looked closer, and realized that the brown-haired zombie was actually just Wanda Mensional in a zombie mask and a wig. The others must be kids from school too! What were they doing here? Didn’t they know the danger they were in? Actually, based on past experience, they probably didn’t even know which state they were in. I had to warn them, especially if it meant selflessly risking my own life.

I crept back down the stairs and snuck around the corner to join them. ‘Wanda, what the fiery heck are you guys doing here? Don’t you know that the supernatural number two is about to hit the fan?’

‘Who’s Wanda?’ said Wanda from beneath her rotting-flesh mask. ‘I’m Winona Arizona. Zombie Winona Arizona.’

‘Cut it out, Wanda, just get out of here while you still can. The Reshuffle will begin any second now.’

‘Duh, we know, that’s why we’re here. Miss Shirley said we needed to get practical experience of denouements.’

The others nodded, and zombie Chip waved. I buried my head in my hands. There was no helping some people. I had valid reasons for being here: I needed to narrate, and hog all the glory if the world got saved. These kids were little more than cameo roles; they were just going to end up dead. Hadn’t Mr. Wellbord taught them anything?

As if to prove my point, I heard Kristina scream. She was struggling with a caped figure who was attempting to force a syringe into her arm. I recognized Joseph Kelledy’s voice whispering, ‘You’ll just feel a little pain, and then your temperature will be gone, I promise.’ Kristina screamed again.

‘Ah think y’all should step away from the little lady, feller,’ said a tall cowboy, stepping between Kristina and Joseph, hands hovering close to the pearl handles of his pistols. Joseph hissed at the cowboy, and dropped into a slight crouch. The cowboy’s hands edged closer to his guns.

Then Teddy was between them, his body language calm, his voice placid. ‘That’s quite all right, pardner, we don’t want any trouble. It’s just a misunderstanding, my father thought the lady was dying, but as we can all clearly see’ – he glared at Joseph – ‘she’s fine. No need for alarm. We’ve all got a busy night ahead of us, let’s not shoot our load early.’

The cowboy scratched his stubble thoughtfully. ‘Well, I reckon I can let it go fer now, but I’ll be watchin’ you varmints, you best think on that, hear?’

Teddy nodded, and, after being nudged in the ribs, so did Joseph. The cowboy turned to head back to his posse.

As he passed me, I couldn’t help asking, ‘Why are you here anyway? Are you zombie cowboys or something?’

He chuckled. ‘No, miss, jest regular old cowpokes. We used to run pop culture back in the fifties. The Lone Ranger, John Wayne, Woody’s Round-Up … cowboys were the kings of the range. We might not be fancy su-pee-nat’ral critters like these other folks, but maybe kids are tired of goblins and ghoulies. Maybe The Reshuffle will put us back on top this time. Gotta be worth turnin’ up to see, ain’t it?’

That made as much sense as anything else round here, so I wished him good luck and turned my attention to my one and only love. ‘Where the heck have you been? I’ve been looking everywhere for you!’

‘I was watching events unfold from a safe distance, like you should be! In fact, why are you here at all? Didn’t we agree that you would remain locked in your house until further notice?’

‘No, we didn’t “agree” that, you decided. You might be trapped in the body you had in 1997, but your attitudes should have moved on. I make my own decisions, you chauvinist pig!’

Teddy looked shocked by my outburst, and I immediately relented. ‘Sorry I shouted, my darling. You do still love me, don’t you?’

Teddy rushed to embrace me, and I froze in his cold, hard arms. We were together again, and nothing would ever tear us apart.

Kristina tugged at my sleeve. ‘Um, guys? I think we’ve been spotted.’

I looked up, and saw the massed ranks of supernatural entities advancing on our small group of interlopers. Teeth were bared, claws were raised, horns were sharp looking. Maybe I’d spoken too soon on the ‘never being torn apart’.

The lead mummy was eyeing me hungrily. ‘She is here! Our prophecy says she will join us. Did anyone remember to bring the spare bandages?’

A blue-haired punk screamed in response: ‘No, our prophecy says she will join us, and banshees will rule supreme once more!’

A zombie stretched his grasping hands towards me. ‘Our prophecy says her brains are tasty.’

The blond vampire shrugged. ‘You lot can do what you flamin’ well like, as long as we don’t get stuck with her. Our prophecy says she’s trouble.’

They were almost upon us now, jostling with each other to get to the front of the crowd. I wondered what the collective noun for supernatural fiends was. An abomination? A stench? A malaise?

Teddy stood in front of me to shield me from the approaching horde. His face betrayed uncertainty. There were so many of them, maybe more than even he could handle, with all his violent energies. We backed away. This wasn’t exactly the climax I’d had in mind. But hey, at least I was the center of attention for once, instead of being cruelly ignored. That was something. I clutched Teddy’s hand tightly.

A thin, reedy voice squeaked loudly from behind us. ‘Cease this foolishness.’

The creatures gasped as one, and dropped to their knees, eyes towards the floor. Teddy and Joseph had done the same. I turned round and found myself staring into the face of death.

By which I mean a skeleton. An unusually short one.

He was standing in the open doorway of the arcade, holding a roll of quarters in one hand and an ornately carved stone chest under his fleshless arm. He was at least six inches shorter than I was, about the height of a twelve-year-old. His empty, black eye sockets stared at me from behind thick-lensed spectacles. I could see the flashing lights of the arcade games through the slender ribs of his puny chest.

Why had the sudden entrance of this skeletal nerd had such an effect on the throng of monsters around us? A few moments ago, the whole crew had been vying with each other for the privilege of dismembering me, but now all eyes were on this scrawny dead kid. I had deeply mixed feelings about this development. Before I could suggest that we return to the matter in hand, namely me, Teddy grabbed my hand to drag me back.

‘Give him room. Show some respect to the Codex Master.’

The peculiar figure slipped the roll of quarters into the pocket of his neatly pressed jeans and raised his left arm high above his head. A ripple of excited murmurs passed through the crowd.

‘Silence!’ he commanded.

For a few seconds, there was utter stillness, the ranks of zombies, ghouls and assorted unspeakable entities from beyond time and space frozen in a ghastly tableau vivant. Or not so vivant. The faint beeping of the Codex Master’s digital watch broke the silence. Twelve beeps. Midnight. The time of The Reshuffle had arrived. Unlike the canapés.

‘You all know why we are here, my sinister siblings. But for the benefit of the inattentive who would otherwise have to skip back to Chapter 15, here is a brief recap. Once in a generation, we gather: the tribes of the terrifying, the families of the phantasmagorical, the, er, clans of the creepy. We gather here for the night of The Reshuffle. On this night, the Codex will be reordered, and the supernatural hierarchy forever changed.

‘Each tribe has worked to recruit disciples, and they have given you strength. Now you will be judged, and the strongest creatures will reign supreme. Popular culture will bow before them. Blockbuster movies, TV shows, bestselling books, ubiquitous merchandise – to the victors all these things will be granted. The humans will worship you, and their passion will sustain you while your less fortunate cousins are fighting among themselves for guest appearances on Supernatural.’

A shudder of horror went through the crowd at the mention of this terrible outcome. The Codex Master took the stone chest from beneath his arm and held it out reverently. ‘The Chest of the Codex.’

He opened the chest, and withdrew a black velvet bag. From the bag, he took out a deck of cards, and fanned them out before him. Each bore the image of a creature, and below the image I caught a glimpse of what I initially assumed was some sort of mystical incantation. The assembled throng had gasped at the unveiling of the cards, but I was somewhat underwhelmed.

I whispered to Teddy, ‘Seriously? The Codex is a pack of Horror Top Trumps? That silly kids’ game?’

Then it struck me. So that was what the game of trumps in my dream had meant! Far too vague to be of any actual use; thanks for nothing, Stephfordy.

Teddy didn’t answer me, and the look in his electric-blue eyes told me that he too was in awe of the sacred ‘Codex’. Personally, I’d preferred this whole scene before the stupid little Codex Master had shown up. There was a prophecy, about me, which meant everyone was trying to harm me, and Teddy had been about to save me in the beautiful, insanely violent way that he had. And now we were stood around watching a dweeby skeleton do card tricks?

Codex boy shuffled the deck of cards, and pronounced in his reedy voice, ‘Prepare yourselves, my uncanny kin. The first combatant at Reshuffle XIV shall be …’ He drew a card from the pack. ‘The Missing Link!’

There was a strange, half-gargled whoop from somewhere at the back of the crowd, and then the sound of someone or something apologetically forcing its way to the front. After a moment, a weird green creature stepped out of the crowd, waving its arms above its head. I couldn’t tell precisely what it was: it had yellow eyes, large reddish lips and something like gills on the sides of its neck. Some kind of sea demon, perhaps.

It took up a position to the left of the Codex Master, who announced, ‘The Missing Link has fought at every Reshuffle since his debut in 1954, but has never made it past the second round. He is 5’ 11” tall, has a Fear Factor of 37, and is allergic to harpoons. Give him a round of applause!’

The crowd obliged. I sensed the excitement building. The Codex Master drew the second card. ‘And he will be facing off against the Invisible Man!’

The audience was still, listening for any telltale sound of an invisible presence among us. The silence eventually became awkward and the Codex Master asked, ‘Has anyone seen the Invisible Man recently?’

‘Maybe he’s still lying low because of Hollow Man 2, I know he was real embarrassed about that one,’ one of the vampires suggested.

‘Oh well, we’ll give him a minute. Invisible Man? Are you there, Invisible Man? Could someone throw some paint or something in the air? No? No Invisible Man. Okay, well, in that case, I hereby declare the Missing Link to be the scariest, you’re through to round two!’

The green sea beast clasped his webbed hands above his head and gurgled incoherently with pleasure. There was some polite applause, but I could feel a hint of dejection in the crowd’s muted response. The Codex Master tried to lift the mood by pressing on with the draw for the second bout.

‘First card, here we go. It’s werewolves! They’ve got one of the best records of any entity. They won Reshuffles V, IX and X. They’re popular, they’re experienced, they have a Fear Factor of 92, let’s hear it for … the werewolves!’

There was wild applause now; clearly the werewolves were one of the main attractions. The crowd parted to let them through, and a large group of giant man-wolves was soon gathered in the open space before the Codex Master. I saw Joe among them and gave him an encouraging wave. ‘Go on, Joe, tear them to shreds, werewolves rule, aawwoooo!’

Teddy frowned at me, but I ignored him. Joe was my friend, and I wanted him to shred his opponents like they were confidential documents.

‘And the werewolves will be fighting …’ The Codex Master paused dramatically. ‘The vampires!’

My breath caught in my throat. Werewolves fighting vampires? Joe versus Teddy? Victory or death? I grasped Teddy’s arm tightly, begging him not to step forward. He looked at me and I saw utter resolution in his bright yellow eyes. He shifted away from me and I whimpered, ‘No, Teddy, don’t …’ But before he could step into the circle, the blond vampire addressed the Codex Master.

‘Before we start, let’s be clear on one thing. Little Teddy there and his weirdo dad ain’t proper vampires, okay? They’ve betrayed our most sacred beliefs, with their trendy colored clothes and their stupid nonsense about “vegetarianism”, so they won’t be fighting with us. We’re vampires – undefeated in three Reshuffles, Fear Factor 97 – and we don’t want to be dragged down by that pair of mimsy ponces. All right by you, chief?’

The Codex Master nodded, and Teddy’s shoulders slumped.

‘I don’t think you’re mimsy, don’t listen to the nasty cockney vampire,’ I reassured him.

The vampires gathered on the other side of the circle to the werewolves, and they began to hiss at their slavering opponents. It was only the second bout of the contest, but everyone knew that the winner of this fight was likely to be the eventual champion. The Codex Master held his hand up, let it fall, and the battle began.

The combatants stood in the light of the crescent moon, each group assessing the strength of the other. The werewolves were bigger, and naturally more powerful, but the vampires outnumbered them. They seemed confident. I knew from what Joe had told me that the werewolves had made very little effort to recruit support for their cause, but the vampires had been planning for this moment for months, recruiting a vast army of impressionable teenagers to their unholy goth cause. Now the power of all those black T-shirts and bad poems about suicide was theirs to draw on.

The blond one shouted, ‘Right, you lot, let’s bloody have the wankers!’ and then both sides charged. I struggled to follow the fight as it unfolded, but at least I wasn’t unconscious this time, which was some sort of progress.

The werewolves lashed out at the vampires with their sharp claws. The vampires moved with the unfathomable speed that Teddy had demonstrated when he’d revealed himself to me in the playground all those weeks ago. They became a blur, leaping and dodging around the wolves, always moving just a whisker faster than their opponents’ mighty jaws. They attacked the beasts in pairs, one drawing attention while another tried to pounce from behind. The other creatures shouted, groaned and ululated their encouragement, and the noise of the crowd quickly became overwhelming.

Then, a vampire succeeded in leaping onto the back of a werewolf, and the giant beast rolled over and over as it tried to shake it off. In its frenzy, it tossed itself into the circle of spectators, and I saw Wanda and Chip crushed beneath its flailing body. The werewolf righted itself and returned to the fray. The crowd closed around where Chip and Wanda had been standing, and I saw them no longer.

This was terrible. Teddy and I were standing on the sidelines, while our friends got to suffer tragic fates center stage. I looked for Joe and found him, too, in the thick of the action. He had a vampire pinned to the ground with one of his massive paws, and I watched as he bit its head clean off. I struggled to process what I was seeing; the Joe Cahontas I knew was such a mellow dude. About half a dozen vampires pounced on Joe then, and he fought to hold them back, lashing out with every pointy appendage at his disposal. One of his adversaries managed to get behind him, slashing at his hind legs. Joe staggered, trying hard to stay upright.

I couldn’t take this any more. I couldn’t stand by watching these ghastly events unfold. I looked at Teddy, who knew what was on my mind before I could even speak.

‘I can’t, Heffa,’ he said helplessly. ‘The Codex Master told me not to fight.’

Maybe the blond vampire had been right, after all; that was a bit mimsy, considering what was going on here. Well, the Codex Master didn’t forbid me from doing anything. I broke free from Teddy’s grip, and dashed into the heart of the story.

‘Stop!’ I screamed, channeling the power of a thousand blazing arguments with my mother. My voice rang out strong and clear, and I felt sure that the grappling fiends could hear me, even if they did continue killing each other. ‘You can’t do this! It’s wrong! You’re all here fighting to the death for some sort of silly supernatural supremacy, but look around you, people are getting hurt. You’ve all forgotten what’s really important.’

The members of the audience looked at each other with a hint of shame on their faces. I had their attention now. The fighting began to die down as here and there the vampires and werewolves started to listen too.

‘Me. I’m what’s really important. Not this stupid Reshuffle business. It started out very promisingly, I’ll grant you that. I arrived, and you were all talking about me, and my place in your prophecies. Great, love that: Heffa Lump finally gets the attention she deserves. But then Codex boy turns up, and you forget all about me. Do your ancient prophecies mean so little?

‘And then, when the fighting starts, I’m not even involved. I’m left standing around narrating, doing my best to describe what’s going on, which is really hard, actually. I wish Stephfordy hadn’t put in this stupid action scene, or I’d got banged on the head and slept through it all. Narrating fights is difficult, and I hate it!’

I stamped my foot for emphasis. The ghoulish mob was paying complete attention to me now, which was just as well. I was only getting started.

‘My boyfriend doesn’t get to fight either, even though he’s been in loads of fights already, and he’s really good at fighting. I wanted him to get involved, because it makes me feel all nice and gooey when he kills things, but – oh no – he’s not good enough to take part in your special Reshuffle.

‘Then my stupid friends, Wanda and Chip, get a really cool death scene, squashed underneath that rampaging werewolf. And my fallback boyfriend Joe is fighting, and it looks like he’s going to get beaten, though I just know he was going to come back and win. But then he’d look really heroic, and Teddy would look even more pathetic than he already does, and I don’t like that idea either.’

One of the zombies groped his arm skywards and groaned, ‘Look, the moon!’ but I ignored his attempt to distract me.

‘And while we’re on the subject, this whole Reshuffle has really messed me around. I haven’t had a proper chapter with school lessons in for ages. I’m supposed to be here to learn to be more mature, and all you stupid zombies and things are spoiling it. It’s not fair.

‘And it’s my birthday today, actually, which I never mentioned because you were all so busy, but it would have been nice if one of you had remembered …’

I paused for breath. I would need a good lungful before I started on the story of how horrible my mom was to me at my seventh birthday party.

But something strange had happened while I’d been sharing. The monsters had all looked away from me (which I would have something to say about in a minute) and were looking up. At the moon. I allowed my gaze to follow. The moon was still crescent-shaped, but now the horns of the crescent were pointing straight down, as if the moon had shifted in space, rotating through ninety degrees. The moon was making a sad face!

Teddy was standing beside me. He spoke to the assembled throng: ‘Do you see the sky? It is the sign of the New Moan, just as the prophecy foretold!’

There was a collective intake of breath, followed by frenzied murmuring. I had no idea exactly what the New Moan was, but it seemed to mean something to the vampires, zombies and banshees who were suddenly discussing it enthusiastically.

The Codex Master spoke: ‘It is just as the cowardly vampire says. The prophecy speaks of the coming of the New Moan, a creature so overwhelmingly powerful that none can stand against it. Or possibly, stand to be in the same room as it, the translations vary. Regardless, you all witnessed the sign in the heavens, and the spectacular outburst of childish petulance of a few moments ago. There can be no doubt. This human, Heffa Lump, is the New Moan.’

He pointed at me with a bony appendage. I still wasn’t sure where this was going, but everyone was looking at me, and their expressions were far less hungry than I had gotten used to, so I was happy to go with the flow.

‘The New Moan has become the center of the universe. Whomsoever the New Moan chooses to support, her power shall be added to their tally, and their victory in The Reshuffle is guaranteed. There is no need for further conflict; only her choice matters now. Choose, Heffa Lump, thy will be done.’

Oh, yes, this was a bit more like it. These are the moments you live for. I looked around at the faces of the various hideous supernatural creatures that cowered before me. The zombies wouldn’t meet my gaze; I think they knew that their previous insistence on eating my brains had not gone down well. The mummies were inscrutable, what with the bandages, but one of them seemed to be attempting an ingratiating smile. The Missing Link was staring intently at me, his webbed hands pressed together in silent prayer, his lips mouthing, ‘Please, please, please!’ Joe Cahontas had returned to his human form, and was as hairily handsome as always. He gave me a broad grin, and then waved me away. He already knew what my decision would be.

I turned to where Teddy Kelledy was standing. Teddy, my love, now and forever. All that he possessed was mine, and all that I had belonged to him, always.

‘Teddy. I choose Teddy,’ I said quietly. Teddy grasped my hands, and we stared into each other’s eyes.

The Codex Master nodded, and began to speak. ‘The New Moan has spoken. The Reshuffle is decided. From this moment forth, the Kelledy Family will be the ultimate power in the super—’

He was interrupted by the blond vampire, who had grabbed Teddy heartily by the shoulders. ‘So anyway, Melvin, what I was saying before, about the Kelledys not being proper vampires? That was just because, well, they’re our leaders, aren’t they? Yeah, that’s it, didn’t want to endanger the leaders. We’re all one big happy family, so if she chooses him, she chooses the lot of us. Okay by you, Melvin, or shall I tell your mum about that other, “special” deck of cards you’ve got in your chest?’

The Codex Master glanced guiltily at the ornate stone box and then quickly agreed.

‘So mote it be. The vampires are supreme once more. All hail. There is one condition, however. For the choice to be valid, the human must become a vampire. Not necessarily in this book, but soon, for goodness’ sake, before we all go batty hearing about it.’ He looked at his watch. ‘I’ve got to go, my mom doesn’t like me to stay out so late!’ With that, he grabbed the chest and raced back inside the arcade.

His departure seemed to mark the close of events. Creatures began to drift away, wandering off through the fairground, chatting to one another, enjoying the last few moments of peace before their eternal battle for supremacy began once more.

I looked around for Joe Cahontas, but he had already disappeared. I wanted to tell him that I would have chosen him, if not for Teddy. Second choice is still pretty good; I didn’t want him to be downhearted.

Joseph Kelledy, on the other hand, was very visible. He had dashed over to the spot where Wanda had been squished by the rampant werewolf. I’m not a first aider, but it looked like he was giving her the kiss of life.

Teddy and I walked hand in hand towards the main entrance, saying goodnight to the creatures we passed along the way. The blond vampire was waiting at the gate.

‘You’re still a wanker, Kelledy, but you’re our wanker.’ He exhaled a cloud of cigarette smoke in Teddy’s face, and turned to leave.

‘Oh, thanks, keep in touch!’ Teddy called after him, with genuine enthusiasm.

We walked to his car in silence after that, enjoying the calm, anticipating the pleasure of being alone together, safe at last.

The cowboys were untying their horses from the hitching post near where Teddy was parked. One of them called over to me.

‘You were right to choose your feller, I guess, miss. But what you done means we’ll be up to our ears in clichéd vampire stories now. Hope you like books with black covers. Y’all are gonna be seein’ a whole lot of ’em.’

chapter 18

afterglow

‘And that’s how I defeated the forces of darkness and saved all of your puny, worthless lives,’ I concluded triumphantly. I waited for the class to burst into cheers of appreciation.

The room was silent. The rest of the students had gone quite slack-jawed in awe. I’d known my storytelling was powerful; obviously, I hadn’t realized quite how much. They’d been so rapt by the narrative that they clearly hadn’t noticed it was over!

‘You may applaud now,’ I graciously informed them, but they remained sitting in stunned quiet. Perhaps that was to be expected. It was a lot to take in at once, and, as had been amply proven, my fellow students weren’t exactly the sharpest tools in the shed. I bowed anyway, and returned to my seat.

‘Well, um, thank you, Heffa, for that most dramatic interpretation of the assignment,’ Miss Shirley said at last. ‘Could we have a quick word after class? Now, who’s next – Wanda? Oh no, she’s still in hospital, isn’t she? Tudor, then.’

I sat and listened to one pathetic attempt at ‘what I learned this semester’ after another. Not one of my classmates had had an experience comparable to mine, and most of them had clearly failed to achieve any kind of growth at all. But they all received enthusiastic acclaim; I couldn’t understand it. How rude teenagers were.

After the class, I stayed mute and dignified while Miss Shirley felt my forehead and shone a light in my eyes. Eventually, she shook her head and put her thermometer away. ‘Heffa, when I said you needed to work on your imagination, I wasn’t expecting you to become delusional,’ she commented. ‘Do you feel all right?’

‘Miss Shirley, it’s all true,’ I insisted. ‘Teddy was there … and his father … If Chip and Wanda and Kristina were here and not comatose, they could tell you all about it. I swear to you, it really happened!’

‘Yes, dear, of course,’ she agreed, but I could tell she didn’t really believe me.

Once again, I was fated to be apart, not just because of my innate superiority, beautiful complexion and babelicious boyfriend, but because I had been places no mortal should ever go, and seen things no mortal should ever see, and totally beaten them. I smiled at Miss Shirley. She couldn’t help being a provincial spinster with a complete lack of insight and really rough skin; I was adult enough to forgive her for her lack of faith in me. I left her behind me, and moved on.

The semester was nearly over; all that was left was the prize-giving ceremony and dance. I thought I’d probably receive some kind of prize in recognition of my bravery, even though I knew it was a dumb popularity contest and genius is never recognized in its own lifetime. It was just as well I would one day become a vampire; that way the world would have lots of lifetimes in which to recognize me. The Academy was buzzing with rumors of who had asked whom to the dance, and who would be awarded which prize, but I floated above it all.

A week before the ceremony, I was sitting with Piper in the cafeteria, feigning interest in listening to her go on and on and on about Rudy maybe asking her out. I should have been sitting with Bobbi and Teddy and discussing far more erudite matters, but the Sun Machine was shining overhead as part of a Beach Reads exam, and so the Kelledys had taken the day off to go hunting; Joseph was keen to add to his trophy collection. Most of Piper’s regular sycophants had been at The Reshuffle and were therefore either off school with broken limbs or resting in peace (and pieces), so she had turned to me in desperation.

‘So, Heffa, are you and Teddy going to the dance?’ she asked eventually, perhaps able to tell that she’d lost my attention from the way I’d started listening to my iPod.

‘Mmm? Well, he’s asked, but I said I’d think about it. No harm in playing hard to get, after all, and I’m not sure I even want to go.’

I smiled as Piper fell over herself trying to persuade me. She couldn’t have been any more transparent. Obviously, everyone was planning a surprise for me. And of course Teddy and I were going to the dance. What was the point of being the Academy’s premier couple if you couldn’t flaunt it from time to time?

The last few days before vacation dragged terribly. The students who had survived The Reshuffle returned to school, eliciting sympathy with their crutches and wheelchairs. Everywhere I turned they seemed to be taking up space, edging down corridors and hesitating at steps. It was so inconsiderate; they’d take ages to move out of the way, simply forcing you to push past them or climb over them. Sometimes they stumbled or got shoved against walls, but that was good physical therapy; I had no idea why they kept complaining about it.

Finally, the day of the dance dawned. I rose at 5 a.m. to commence my preparations. After showering, depilating, moisturizing, and sprinkling myself with attar of roses, I called Teddy to check he’d be ready on time. ‘You’re coming to pick me up at six, right?’

‘I am? Yes, of course I am, that had not slipped my mind at all.’ There was a pause. ‘Where are we going?’

I laughed indulgently and put the phone down. How darling of him to pretend that he wasn’t planning to whisk me off to the dance. Why, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d organized a limo and everything!

I spent the next few hours carefully doing my hair and make-up, and making sure the ruffles on my Pink Princess dress hung just right. Come six o’clock, I was poised elegantly on the sofa, waiting for my cold-blooded hunk of loveliness. Chump insisted on taking photo after photo.

‘Oh, Heffa,’ he said. ‘You look so grown-up, and just as pretty as your mother. I remember when I first saw you; I knew my life was complete at that moment. I’m so pr—’

‘Dad, could you quit hogging the limelight for five minutes? This is my special night. And stop taking photos, the flash is making my eyes water.’ I heard a car pull up. ‘Is that Teddy? Is it? Is it? Is he driving a limo?’

‘No, looks like he’s just got the car,’ Chump said, wiping away a tear in sympathy with my crushing disappointment at Teddy’s inadequate choice of vehicle.

I went to greet my Prince Charming, pulled open the door – and then froze, flabbergasted at the vision before me. ‘Hello, my darling. You look even more regal than ever. And the very quintessence of pink. Why are you so dressed up?’ Somehow, I found my voice. ‘Teddy, you’re – you’re – you’re wearing jeans.’

Teddy’s eyes darted downwards as if to check. Jeans, sneakers, a white T-shirt … he’d made not the slightest bit of effort. What price my dreams, my precious memories? Ground into the dirt in an instant.

‘I can’t believe you could treat me this way! It’s the dance, Teddy, the dance! The crowning moment of the school year! Our chance to sway close together in slow motion while our adoring fan base throw roses at us! And you forgot!’

‘I didn’t forget,’ the assassin of my hopes dared to protest. ‘You said you didn’t want to go. I asked you about twenty times.’

‘I was being coy, you idiot! You’ve been around for thirty years and you haven’t figured girls out yet? How slow can you be?’

My voice rose to a shriek, and I could hear the strange harmonics begin to echo in my chest. Teddy winced in pain and looked worriedly upwards. Sure enough, the moon had started to shift on its axis, drawn inexorably downwards by the force of my wrath.

‘Don’t, Heffa, you’ll only exhaust yourself. I will take mere seconds to repair this damage—’ and with a faint clap of thunder he vanished. I waited, tapping my foot impatiently. On his reappearance ten minutes later, things had indeed changed for the better: gelled hair, cummerbund, shiny shoes, tux …

‘That’s acceptable,’ I allowed, sniffily. ‘But don’t think you’re getting past first base this evening, mister.’

I stalked towards the car. The prize ceremony would have started by the time we got there; everyone would be waiting to ‘surprise’ me with my special award.

As I’d expected, when we finally reached the school, the hall was already full of eager teens milling about in front of the stage; the room reeked of excited hormones. I sailed through the crowd and up the steps, interrupting Miss Shirley’s eulogy in honor of those students who had failed not only to graduate, but to survive the semester at all.

‘Shove over, Principal, I’m here. You can get these awards started now.’

‘Miss Lump, what on earth—’

‘Look, stow the fakery, all right? I saved this town and resisted the lure of darkness, evil and lust – where’s my prize?’ I glared out into the auditorium, where the supporting cast shuffled and murmured among themselves. I could feel the power of the New Moan rising; if they didn’t get their act together pretty soon, they were going to get a right earful. ‘Well?’

‘Here it is!’ Bobbi announced, appearing onstage beside me almost as if she’d been pushed. ‘In honor of your … most outstanding attributes and commitment to my brother, I mean your career, we do present you with this token of our regard.’

I took the award she thrust at me. It looked suspiciously like a schlonga wrapped in tinfoil, but no doubt they hadn’t collected all the pledge money yet. It would do for now.

‘Aw, thanks Bobbi. Thanks, you guys. I’d like to thank myself, my gorgeous beau Teddy, and the rest of the Kelledy family, who were there for some of it without being much use. My mom and dad were no help at all, unless you count their DNA, which I need to get tested some time, to be honest. Oh, and—’

‘Thank you, Heffa,’ Miss Shirley said. She had the most quizzical expression on her face. Under her breath, she muttered, ‘You are truly the most self-obsessed student this Academy has ever had – and that’s saying something.’ I beamed at her. I’d always known I was unique, but it was nice to hear it said out loud.

As I let Bobbi lead me from the stage, Miss Shirley said, ‘And now for our first, sorry, second award of the evening. The Clark Kent Prize for Most Minimal Disguise goes to … Wanda Mensional! Or should I say, Winona Arizona!’

Wanda pushed past me on her way to collect the award. She seemed different from how I remembered her, lying half-dead on the ground with Joseph Kelledy bent over her. I was sure she hadn’t worn so much eyeliner or silver jewelry, for a start. And were those fingerless lace gloves? Oh well, everyone goes through phases. I looked around for Teddy, only vaguely listening as she began her thanks: ‘Cower before me, mortals …’

‘Congrats, Heffa,’ Bobbi said. ‘They made up a prize just for you, that’s great. Now if you’ll excuse me, Jack and I are going to, um, mingle. See you later!’

‘Heffa,’ a voice interrupted. Chip. Oh Lord, why couldn’t he have stayed in hospital just a little bit longer? I so wasn’t in the mood for this right now. ‘I’ve been thinking a lot recently, and I’ve realized something. I wanted to tell you first.’

‘I know you’ve got the hots for me, Chip. Don’t get me wrong, it’s kind of gross just thinking about you looking at me, but I suppose it’s a free country …’

‘No, you’re wrong. That’s what I have to tell you. Trey McBlande came to visit me loads in hospital, and our conversations really made me think about my place in life. I know what I want to do now. I want to sing. I want to have snarky, bitchy dialog. I want to advise people on their clothes. Heffa, I’m not a leading man – I’m the Gay Best Friend!’

I patted him gently on the shoulder. ‘If you want to be a stereotype that bears no relation to reality, that’s just fine. I wish you all the best. Not all of us plumb the depths of character I’ve reached, I know. Now why don’t you run along and see if Piper wants to talk about boys?’

He nodded gratefully and wandered off. That was that dealt with. Now, where was Teddy?

‘Heffa?’ It was Joe Cahontas. Jeez Louise, where was a girl’s gentleman vampire when she needed him? Joe and I had not spoken since The Reshuffle; he’d been going out of his way to avoid me. From the tension in his shoulders, the hair sprouting on his lip and the way his hackles were rising, he was still mad.

‘I’m sorry you didn’t win, Joe, even if we would all have had to wear ripped jeans and get into Nirvana again,’ I began in an attempt to placate him.

‘It’s all right for you,’ he said, bitterly. ‘You get to swagger around town with your undead beau, king and queen of all you survey, while the gang and I are stuck in the basement with the Xbox. Twenty years we’ve been waiting, Heffa. I had the script for Spatulan Werewolf in Bermuda green-lit and ready to go, and you just made sure we’ll be despised, low-rent gamers for a whole new generation. It’s not fair!’

I scritched the top of his head, and he whined softly. How nice of him to call Teddy and me ‘king and queen’. I was positive we’d fix this silly rift between us some time soon, or if not I probably wouldn’t care for long anyway. Perhaps there was a play or a book that would give me some ideas about how to describe the way Teddy, Joe and I interacted; with some help, I’d surely be able to figure out a way for us to stay friends. Shakespeare hadn’t been much use, but maybe if I moved on to nineteenth-century novels I’d find something.

‘Ahem.’ Teddy stood beside us. Joe growled, a little, until I bopped him on the nose with my trophy. ‘She’s mine, wolf-boy, get your dirty paws away from her,’ Teddy went on, displaying the psychopathic possessiveness I loved so much.

‘I’ll see you later, Joe,’ I said, and watched sadly as he sloped off. Teddy clasped me close to him, and we began to sway back and forth. The gentle rocking motion went some way towards distracting me; rubbing against Teddy’s smooth torso, sliding my hands down his taut, perfect behind …

‘Heffa?’ Teddy whispered.

‘Yes, my love?’

‘Have you thought further about my proposal?’

I detached myself. He wasn’t going to get me that easily. Butter a girl up, and when she’s all open and soft, out with the fangs. Well, not Heffa Lump!

‘Teddy, I told you. I’m not ready. I want to graduate. I’ve got all sorts of adult things I want to do with you, but I’ve got to be an adult first. Why must you keep pressuring me like this? Didn’t you say you’d love me even if I was eighty?’

Teddy stuck out his bottom lip, petulantly, and I leaned up to kiss it. He pushed me back. ‘Eighteen, Heffa, not eighty. Urgh, if you were eighty, you’d be all dried up and old. What kind of freak would promise something like that?

‘And the thing is, if you grow up any more, you’ll realize I’m just a shallow romantic cliché, a thirteen-year-old’s idea of a perfect man. You won’t care for me at all once you reach maturity, and I can’t bear the thought of losing you. You’re all I think about. I can’t sleep – well, I don’t sleep, but if I did, I certainly wouldn’t be able to – I’m off my steak, I’ve barely even investigated the men’s spring collection. Images of you possess me. If I can’t plunge my teeth into your inviting flesh, I don’t know what I’ll do.’

‘Oh, my darling,’ I sighed, and held him tightly. ‘I’ll never grow bored of you, never! Probably. Besides, romance doesn’t have to be all about biting, you know. There are other things we could do …’

I took his arm, and started to lead him out of the hall. Behind us, my fellow students danced, and talked, and lay in a pile at the side of the stage next to Wanda. I only had eyes for my Teddy.

‘What can you mean?’ he asked now. ‘Joseph explained it all to me quite carefully … You meet a girl, you get to know her, you stick your fangs in until all the blood is gone, you’re done.’

‘No offence, sweetheart, but your dad’s not someone I’d take relationship advice from. We don’t have to subsume our urges in an extended vampire metaphor. We could just have sex.’

‘Sex?’ Teddy’s eyes were round in puzzlement and faintly horrified. ‘I don’t know, isn’t that rather forward? Are you sure you wouldn’t rather I bit you first?’

‘Definitely not,’ I said firmly. I extracted the script of Fangs for the Mammaries, which I’d secreted in my handbag for this very moment. ‘Let’s go to the basement, Teddy; I think it’s time for an extracurricular drama tutorial. What I’ve got to teach you is sure to get your blood flowing.’

Teddy checked me as we emerged into the empty corridor. ‘But Heffa, my heart doesn’t beat, remember? I don’t have any circulation.’

I wrapped an arm around his waist, and tenderly pulled him onwards. ‘In that case, dear heart, you’d better bring the schlonga.’

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18