Diary of a Vampeen

DIARY OF A
VAMPEEN

by

Christin M Lovell

SMASHWORDS EDITION

~~~

PUBLISHED BY:

Christin M Lovell on Smashwords

Diary of a Vampeen

Copyright © 2011 by Christin M
Lovell

~~~

*Note: Photo on the book
cover is owned and provided by:
http://free-extras.com/images/green_eyes-1587.htm

~~~

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal
enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to
other people. If you would like to share this book with another
person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you
share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it,
or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return
to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for
respecting the author's work.

~~~

This book is dedicated to my daughter Kali. May
your life be as rich as Alexa’s.

~~~

But we all, with open face
beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into the
same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the
Lord.

II Corinthians 3:18 KJV

~~~

Preface

I'd always wondered if the myths were
true. Who got it right; who didn't? Were most recent Hollywood
portrayals correct? Were all vampires gorgeous, pale specimens to
be swooned over? Did they all have the same eye color and choice of
human or animal blood for survival? Did they sparkle in the sun or
were they prohibited from soaking up its rays due to a fire
hazard?

Further back, when we relied on books,
were the authors more accurate in their details? Did vampires sleep
in coffins and wake only at night? Were they forbidden from
entering churches, touching crosses and eating garlic? Was I truly
safe in my home if I didn't invite them in? If I put a mirror in
front of them, would a reflection be visible?

The list went on and on; so many
questions I never assumed would be answered. They simply sat in the
back of my mind; a slow curiosity that didn't agitate me, but I'd
have loved to kill it.

Perhaps that's their appeal though.
Because there was no conclusive evidence I could manipulate the
image of these immortals (the only consistency in all the books and
movies) to be whatever was attractive to me. My imagination was
allowed to love an Edward, a Dracula or Lestat because nothing was
concrete factually speaking about vampires... until my sixteenth
birthday when I learned all but one of the above is
inaccurate.

~~~

Chapter 1

I knew he was different from the moment I laid eyes on him. Not
different in a paranormal or supernatural sense; just different. I
could tell he wasn't superficial like the majority of high school
students. He had a better grasp on life than most of us yet I
didn't understand how or why.

He was gorgeous standing
there in all his glory. A buff body; strong, angular features that
made his beauty harsh; he was hard, dark. He held mystery and
intrigue. He was far from approachable yet his eyes, the most
beautiful emeralds I'd ever seen, drew me in. His aura called to me
yet his body language pushed everyone away. A red i-Pod nano was
attached to the bulk of his bicep, a lure to his strength. It was
pumping music through his earphones as our eyes locked from
opposite sides of the hall.

"Hello?! Earth to Lexi!" Mel
frantically waved her hands in front of my zoned out
face.

He looked away, breaking eye contact
with me. A second later he closed his locker and walked away
leaving my heart racing. It took me a good minute to clear my
head.

"Hello?! Lex!" Mel
practically screamed my name for the entire world to hear and know.
She's my best friend; I love her, but patience isn't her strong
suit.

"Sorry," I mumbled.

"Yea, yea. Let's go so we're not late
for class!"

"I'll see you later babe," Mike said,
planting a quick kiss on my cheek. I instantly blushed.

I was still adjusting to the idea that
fat, four-eyed, less than perfect skin me had a boyfriend. A
wonderfully devoted boyfriend who called me beautiful while others
announced my hips down the hall. I was curvy. Ok, so I was
extra, extra curvy with a side of cottage cheese. I guess that
explained the nickname "hungry hippo."

Cooper River High School
is like all others. It has your jocks and preps, the kings and
queens of the school who flaunt their perfection daily and make
your inferior comparison public knowledge. Jason, the all American
dream boy, a.k.a. the quarterback for the Riverdogs, and Jenny, the
teen queen, a.k.a. the captain of the cheerleading squad, thought
it was appropriate to attach the board game 'Hungry, Hungry Hippos'
to my locker with cement glue. I was mortified. I guess you can
understand why I decided to forgo the locker this year.

"Babe?" Mike prompted,
interrupting my memories, while studying me closely. His brows
furrowed in appraisal.

A smile slowly crept on my face as I
looked in his eyes. "See you later."

"Oh God. Can we cut the mush and get
going?" Mel was tapping her foot expectantly.

"I'm coming," I droned.

"Wow. There is a God," she stated
rolling her eyes.

"Oh stop! I thought you were happy for
me?" I teased.

"I was... until you
started subjecting me to regular p.i.a." We were power walking to
class by this point.

"P.i.a.?"

"Yea, p.i.a.: puke
inducing actions."

"Ugh, gross." I felt my
face wrinkle in response to her twisted acronym.

We raced through the door
just as the final bell rang.

As I scurried towards my
desk, I froze. There, two desks back from mine, was him. My breath
caught and I knew, had I needed to speak, I wouldn't have been able
to. As cliché as it sounds, he took my breath away.

Mel came to my rescue
tugging me down in the seat behind her. "What has gotten into you
today?!" she scolded in a rushed whisper as Mrs. Henderson, our
ancient, highly eccentric teacher, approached the front.

I was irritated. I had never been
stunned into a statue before. There was something about this new
interest that stopped me dead in my tracks. I literally lost all
train of thought simply caught up in the glory of him. That alone
was highly unusual for me. I was never affected by outward beauty
which is all I had to go on at this point. I’d learned the hard way
that unless you were equally accepted by society as an ideal model
of physical perfection, you never stood a chance. I never stood a
chance, and I forced myself to be blind to the beautiful to avoid
ever making a fool out of myself.

The rest of the period passed.
Regardless of what I did, I couldn't shake Mr. Emerald Eyes from my
mind. Fear momentarily reared its nasty head at the somewhat
obsessive analyzation my thoughts were doing over him. I'm
certainly analytical by nature, perhaps overly at times, but not to
the point of insanity which was the steady job my dear head was
angling towards over this new boy... no, man? It didn't fit him. I
could tell he was an old soul, but I couldn't define him
properly.

By the time I packed my stuff, Mike
was waiting by the door.

"Hey babe," he beamed.
"Mel," he spoke her name with disdain clearly on his
tongue.

"Don't start," she snapped.

"So. You two going to
Barnes and 
No-bell
 tonight?" he asked as I walked towards the
door.

"Of course. You know we always go on
Thursdays."

"Hmm. I'm thinking I could be in the
coffee mood tonight," he smirked.

Mel rolled her eyes. It was justified
though. Despite him being my boyfriend, when it came to outside
social events, Mike was unreliable. I didn't mind though because I
never attended social events unless you counted my weekly B&N
run with Mel. Every Thursday night, come rain or shine, Mel and I
went to B&N. It was a ritualistic gathering we'd been addicted
to since our first trip in sixth grade, exactly a year after we'd
met.

Apparently I'd left my body again
because I returned to Mel and Mike arguing with me
in-between.

"You are such a cocky bastard," Mel
harrumphed.

"Sounds like you're
jealous of my confidence."

"More like majorly turned
off!"

"I didn't know you were attracted to
me like that."

"I'm not you jerk!" She was steaming
pissed. I could tell she was about to explode. Mike knew how
to push buttons; not only buttons but boundaries, and for some
reason he found Mel the most amusing to push around.

"Mike, please. Don't
start," I pleaded, angling my eyes to do the same.

"Yea,
Michael
, don't start something you
can't finish," Mel tossed in.

"Guys," I groaned. They were always
fighting. I would have pulled my hair out by now if they each
hadn't confided that they enjoyed the banter. They bickered like
siblings all the time.

"Sorry babe," Mike pulled me in closer
as we breeched the bus lines.

"Mel, is your Mom dropping you off or
do you need my dad to pick you up?"

"I think she said she's
dropping me off after she picks up Kyle from practice."

"Ok. I'll see you later," I
waved.

"Later gator," she grinned as she
walked towards her bus. Ironically, she and Mike rode the same
one.

It was me who was alone; I was left to
be tortured by the neighborhood kids who reinforced the
'hungry hippo' byline. My saving grace was the occasional
times that Justin rode it. I was able to get lost in conversation
with him rather than be forced to listen to their jeers.

"Want me to ride home with you babe? I
can call my mom to get me later," Mike offered, pushing my hair
away from my face.

"Thanks, but I'll be ok." I tried to
plaster the best smile I could manage, but it was meager at best.
He didn't talk about it, but Mike knew the way people taunted me. I
was just grateful that he tolerated it while holding my hand
proudly.

"'kay. I'll call you," he announced
softly kissing my lips before leaving to rejoin Mel. Every
time he kissed me, little butterflies fluttered about inside me. It
wasn't an overwhelming passion that burst through my soul, but
rather a simplistic enjoyment that kindled.

Luck was on my side. Justin was
waiting for me.

Chapter 2

“Mom, are you home?” I called walking
through the front door.

“In the kitchen!” she
yelled back to me.
I dropped my book bag
and slid off my shoes by the door before skipping through the
living room to our large open kitchen.

My mother was already preparing my
dinner. We never ate the same meal or shared an evening at the
dining table. It was our routine to go our separate ways. I took my
plate into my room, usually chatted through my consumption on the
phone with Mel, while she ate in the company of my dad downstairs
when he returned home. By the time I retreated from my room my
parents were typically snuggled together on the couch watching
their crime shows.

After school was the official time I
interacted with my mom daily. I normally sat at a barstool nestled
to the granite covered island while she cooked my dinner. We
discussed random topics pertaining to our day; reflected upon the
one-offs of our lives. Despite our age difference and her formal
approach to most subjects, I could talk with her about almost
anything. The one exception to this would be boys.

She’s a part time real estate agent
and my dad an engineer. I’d always been close to my mom since my
dad tended to work long hours.

“So how was school today honey?” she
interrupted my thoughts while stirring the contents in the
pot.