Tenth Grade Bleeds (13 page)

After posing for approximately five bajillion pictures, Vlad helped Meredith with her coat, and they moved out the door and down the sidewalk to the car. Vlad held her hand over the icy parts, not wanting her to slip and fall. He was keenly aware of the bear's eyes on him the entire time. Once they were safely in the car, Nelly gushed over Meredith's gown. Vlad stayed quiet for most of the drive, allowing Nelly and Meredith their girl-focused conversation while he mused about how lucky he was to be dating a girl like her. But overshadowing his thoughts was tonight's argument with Henry . . . and what it would mean if he was no longer Vlad's drudge.

Their friendship, Vlad wagered, would be a memory. Vlad would be alone, lacking that bond of blood and promises that he'd had since he was eight years old. What would it be like to be without a drudge? Would he make another? No. No, he didn't think he was even capable of such an act. After all, if Henry weren't his drudge, what was the sense in creating another?

Vlad bit his lip. The thing was . . . he wanted Henry to be happy. And if breaking that bond would give him a chance at happiness, then Vlad had no choice. What it came down to was the fact that Vlad would do anything for his best friend—even if that meant losing him forever.

Meredith squeezed his hand, and when he met her eyes, it was clear she was wondering what was wrong. But how could he explain that part of his soul was breaking off, all because of eons of vampire tradition? He couldn't. So instead he forced a smile and squeezed her hand in return.

At the school, Nelly took pictures of them standing in the snow. She insisted the photographs would be memories they would cherish for a lifetime, but Vlad was pretty sure the memory-retaining part of his brain had been frozen solid by the time she finished snapping pictures.

At last, Vlad led Meredith up the snow-covered steps and into the school. Soft light filled the halls, and silver snowflakes glistened all over the floor, guiding them into the gym. Meredith covered her mouth in awe. Vlad's eyes went wide. The room had been transformed into a winter palace in honor of the annual Snow Ball. The punch and snack table was disguised to look like a snowbank. Silver, white, and blue snowflakes hung from the large arched ceiling. An ice sculpture of a giant snowflake stood next to the food. And the DJ's booth had been completely wrapped in silvery paper, giving it a frosty exterior. It was the coolest dance theme that he had ever seen.

Melissa bounded up to Meredith, and they squealed over each other's dresses. Mike nodded to Vlad like they were old pals. “What's up, Vlad?”

“Not much.” Vlad beamed. It was hard not to smile on such a magical night. A night, he noted with a quick glance around, that didn't include Eddie's stalking or Bill and Tom's bullying.

A song that Vlad knew by heart pounded from the DJ's speakers, and the girls dragged him and Mike onto the dance floor. Vlad froze for a moment, because he really had no idea what he was doing. But eventually, he figured out a way of shifting his feet around that almost, sorta, kinda felt like dancing. After two songs, Meredith excused herself, and Vlad took refuge by the punch bowl.

It was nice to attend a dance where Bill and Tom were nowhere to be seen, and even nicer to have a date—especially the girl of his dreams. In fact, if it weren't for the dark cloud that had been hanging over his head ever since Henry had made his big I-don't-want-to-be-your-drudge-anymore speech, the evening might have been a pretty good one. For once, Vlad felt like a normal, human teenager.

He was wandering past the gym doors on his way to find Mike when he overheard Meredith's voice coming from the hallway outside. “No, I won't stay away from Vlad. How could you even suggest such a thing, Kylie?”

Peeking around the corner, Vlad saw Kylie whisper to Meredith. Whatever she said put an irritated crease in Meredith's forehead.

Meredith shook her head. “Well, I don't believe it.”

“But Henry McMillan told me—”

“I don't care, Kylie. If it didn't come straight from Vlad's lips, I wouldn't believe it. What a crazy, stupid rumor to spread! There's no such thing!” Meredith stormed off in the direction of the girls' bathroom. Kylie stood there, looking wounded but determined.

Vlad's stomach had twisted into a million knots.

Henry wouldn't. He couldn't. Could he?

Vlad quickly ran through every order he'd ever given Henry. None of them had included “Don't tell people I'm a vampire.”

A wave of nausea washed over him. It was quite possible that Henry had broken his trust in a moment of blind fury, and had spilled his most valuable secret to the girl he was supposed to take to the dance. Vlad shook his head, unwilling to believe it, but also unable to deny the possibility that Henry might have slipped up in a moment of anger.

And all at once, Vlad was a freak again, and the dance was all but ruined.

Kylie almost bumped into him as she reentered the gym. Vlad forced a smile, not wanting to cause any more damage or to do anything that might substantiate any possible claims that he was a bloodthirsty monster. “Hey, Kylie.”

Kylie's face went white and she stepped backward, away from him. “Henry told me about you. Stay away from me!”

Vlad forced himself to remain calm, even though he was in full-on panic mode inside. “What did he say?”

“Leave me alone!” Kylie bolted across the room and started talking to a group of kids, gesturing wildly at Vlad.

Vlad swallowed hard and glanced about the room. The only thing missing from this scene were torches and pitch-forks. From behind him came a familiar voice, warm, sweet. Meredith. “Don't worry about Kylie. She's just a little worked up over something stupid Henry told her.”

He turned to face her, not wanting to see fear in her eyes. Thankfully, he didn't. “What would that be?”

Meredith furrowed her brow. “Are you okay? You look sick or something.”

Vlad shook his head, indicating that nothing was wrong. Meredith didn't look like she believed him, but went on, “Anyway, he told her that she should stay away from you, that close contact with you would be dangerous or something. Are you sure you're not sick, Vlad?”

Vlad felt like vomiting. So Henry really had betrayed him. Apparently, you can't even trust your best friend. “I'm fine. Just wondering why Henry would say something like that.”

Meredith shrugged. “No clue, but he told her that you're the reason he was too sick to bring her to the dance tonight. He said he caught something called Contagidiginosis from you. Apparently, it eats away the lining of the stomach like acid and comes from cross-eyed antelopes in Africa.”

Vlad's jaw dropped. Henry hadn't exposed him. Henry was just being stupid. Completely, ridiculously stupid “Antelopes?”

Meredith chuckled. “You look better already. How's your stomach?”

Vlad smirked. “Still intact. Guess I must be on the mend.”

A slow song started playing, and Vlad swept all of his fears away, turning to face Meredith. He smiled. “Wanna dance?”

In moments, they were on the dance floor.

Meredith placed her hand on his shoulder, and Vlad shivered as he clasped her free hand in his. He still wasn't sure exactly what to do with his feet, but when he looked into her deep chocolate brown eyes, he realized that it didn't matter whether he could dance or not—all that mattered was that he was here with her, that they were together, that it was the Snow Ball, and he wasn't alone. He was in the gym with his girlfriend instead of in the belfry with his thoughts.

They moved in slow circles, and snowflake-shaped confetti and silver glitter lazily drifted down from overhead, covering the dance floor and everyone on it. Meredith tilted her head back and closed her eyes, laughing softly as the glitter graced her cheeks. Vlad smiled, blinking away confetti. She was so beautiful that his heart ached.

The music drifted through the room. Vlad brushed a snowflake from Meredith's cheek. They weren't dancing anymore so much as standing in the center of the room, holding each other close to the tune of gentle music, covered by the decorative splendor of an unusual high school dance. Vlad met her warm gaze and was transported back to Halloween night, when he'd realized how much, how deeply he loved Meredith. Only tonight, his feelings seemed even deeper somehow, bigger, more real. He placed his forehead lightly against hers and closed his eyes.

So this was how his dad had felt about his mom. Vlad got it now. It was love, real and true. And it didn't matter that one of them wasn't entirely human. It didn't matter that technically, they were predator and prey. Or that when Vlad inhaled, he could detect the subtle, sweet scent of her blood as it moved from artery to vein and had to force his thoughts away from the danger of her close proximity. None of it mattered.

The only thing that truly mattered at the moment was that Vlad loved Meredith, and that he always would.

V
LAD DREW HIS SHOULDERS UP in an effort to block the freezing early-January wind from his ears. It didn't work. The wind picked up and pushed against his chest with all its might, slowing his already slow steps to the school. Snow drifted over his shoes as he made his way down the sidewalk, soaking his socks and chilling him to the bone. His ears were completely numb, as were his gloved fingers. Winter break was over, but clearly, winter was not.

And whose sick idea was it to have school today anyway?

At the top of the steps, tucked safely inside the warm school, stood Principal Snelgrove, eyeing each student with his distrustful, rodentlike stare. Vlad rubbed his numb hands together and swore under his breath. Of course. Snelgrove. Rat-man extraordinaire. Next time the weather got this fierce, somebody had better distract the principal with a maze and the promise of cheese. Maybe then school would be canceled for the day.

He climbed the steps and went inside, thankful for the heat of the building, even if it was school. It took him a minute, but he fumbled with numb fingers to unlock his locker, then looked around. Henry was nowhere to be seen, something that deeply troubled Vlad. He hadn't seen Henry since before winter break, since the day Henry had told him that he no longer wanted to be his drudge. Vlad was hoping he'd cooled off by now and maybe changed his mind. After all, Henry was the only human in the world besides Nelly who knew what Vlad really was. Except for Eddie. And his were only unconfirmed theories. So far anyway.

Vlad drifted impatiently through his morning classes, with no sign of Henry between classes. By the time he got to lunch, Vlad was beginning to wonder whether or not Henry had called in sick, despite the fact that Henry hadn't called him to bemoan his various aches and pains. Deep down, Vlad knew he was kidding himself. But the possible truth was far more upsetting to consider.

Vlad's stomach rumbled angrily. He'd been so anxious to get to the cafeteria that he'd forgotten to stop by his locker and grab his sack lunch. But at the moment, he didn't care. All he could think about was finding Henry and righting whatever was wrong between them.

Winter break had given him plenty of time to consider why Henry might feel suddenly put off by his drudge status. And while Vlad had only recounted a handful of instances where he'd ordered Henry to grab him a Pepsi, and maybe two where he'd told his best friend to back off and let him win a video game, clearly those moments had meant a lot more to Henry than he'd realized. And though he hadn't at the time, recalling each of those things now filled Vlad with a burdening guilt. Maybe Henry was right—maybe Vlad had been acting more like a vampire overlord than a best friend. Whatever it was, he had to make things right, and hope that Henry would abandon the insane notion of leaving his position as Vlad's drudge.

As he approached his usual table, he smiled at Meredith before scanning the room for any sign of his best friend. Just as he was about to count Henry as absent, he spied him seated at the “popular table,” a table that made the tiny hairs on the back of Vlad's neck stand on end. Vlad's shoulders slumped in confusion as he made his way across the cafeteria toward him. The air grew thicker with every step he took. Vlad was most definitely uninvited here.

Chelsea Whitaker was the first to detect the intruder. She flipped her hair and wrinkled her nose, as if Vlad didn't smell very good. And though she was looking right at Vlad, she spoke to Henry, who was sitting to her right. “It looks like we have company.”

Vlad's jaw tightened. He managed to squeak out, “Henry?”

But Henry wouldn't look at him. He just slumped down in his seat and said, “I'm sitting with Chelsea today, Vlad.”

Vlad spoke through clenched teeth. He didn't like standing this close to the popular table any more than Chelsea liked him doing it. “We need to talk about something. It's important.”

Henry picked a French fry off his lunch tray and swirled it around in a pile of ketchup. “I haven't changed my mind, if that's what you're wondering.”

“Can I please talk with you?” Vlad moved his eyes briefly to Chelsea and raised his voice slightly for emphasis. “Alone?”

After a moment, Henry nodded and left the table with him, directing him to a quiet spot near the Pepsi machine. “Look, Vlad . . .”

“No, you look!” Vlad paused and got a firm grip on whatever part of him was still in panic mode. This wasn't going to be easy, but it would be a lot harder if Vlad approached with the wrong attitude. “I mean, Henry . . . I'm sorry, okay? I was thinking about what you said, and if I have been treating you more like a slave than a friend lately, I'm really sorry.”

Henry looked as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. But he didn't speak.