Vampire Manifesto (13 page)

“
I apologize for being late, Mrs. Shoemowetochawcawe; I kinda got a little turned around in the hallways here.” Ethan professed.

“
Nonsense, young man.” Adahy stated. “This place is a labyrinth unto that of any Crete Minotaur.”

Adahy turned her attention back to the class. “As I was saying. John Rogers. Have any of you heard of him?”

Nothing but silence from the student body.

“
He’s a writer.” Ethan called out from his semi slump in his chair.

“
Very astute, Mr. Blackwood.” Adahy commended. “Your first day is looking quite remarkable. Are you familiar with his work?”

Ethan shrugged. “Not really. Back in the day he wrote a script for some Vampire movie, but it got leaked on the net before the movie was green lit so they brought someone in to do a rewrite. Don’t remember the name of it, but the original script was pretty banging.”

“
The name of the movie was
Fledgling
and the script was excellent. He was before his time on that one. He was also the show runner on the short lived TV show entitled
The Vampire Manifesto
. Now the rest of you may be wondering why this man, this John Rogers, some hack writer none of you have heard of is important.”

Adahy pulled out a stack of books. “Please take one, and then pass the rest to your neighbor.”

“
What are you doing here?” I whispered to Ethan, trying to mask the excitement in my voice.

“
Trying to get an education, what are you doing here?” He responded back coly.

“
Smart ass! What are you doing in my English class?” I demanded. Just having him close to me set my mind aflame. The person situated directly in front of me plopped a book down on my desk. I barely glanced at the cover, it was nigh impossible to take my eyes off of him.

Damn…

Ethan Blackwood looked me up and down slowly. “Why are you covered in paint?”

Adahy began walking down the rows of desks and chairs within the classroom. “The name of the book you just received is called
Forgotten Future
. It is written by none other than John Rogers himself. I will expect you to read it…”

“
Is that all you expect?” A voice called out.

“
Speaking while not being interrupted would be another, but no, that is not all I expect. You will read it, then produce a ten thousand word essay on the contents. You will have two weeks.”

There was a noticeable groan from my classmates at the assignment.

“
Well class, we could always go back to Mr. Jones original itinerary, which was the fifteen thousand word essay on War and Peace. Yet as delightful as that project sounds to you, just imagine the mass appeal resting on my shoulders in reading such awe-inspiring drivel in which I’m sure you’ll try to pass off as an A plus grade essay.”

I picked up the book again, gave it a quick thumb through. Just a little shy of two hundred pages. War and Peace was like what? Five bible stacks high? Yeah, I’m definitely not feeling that at all.

“
So why Rogers.” I asked. “What’s so great about this guy? Why did you choose this dude?”

Adahy turned her eye towards me. “Because he’s quite mad, I believe. The insane can have such delightful intelligence at times. Always more intriguing then your run of the mill, day to day, insert random name here person. You never know just what type of delusional escapade they’re liable to get themselves into.”

“
Well that’s cool and all, but you really didn’t answer my question.” I’m not completely sure why I said that.

The substitute teacher leaned up against Mr. Jones desk, crossing her arms. “Please, elaborate.”

“
Just because he’s crazy, yeah, that’s just describing his current mind state really, but has no impact on the actual assignment. In fact, the reason this dude is some kind of nutcase would in fact be detrimental, especially since we are deviating from Mr. Jones initial syllabus. In spite of the impending drivel that we would transcribe and you would inevitable have to grade, switching authors is not going to change our intellectual prowess. So why Rogers?”

“
Intellectual prowess?” Adahy repeated. “I like you.”

Ethan just shook his head.

“
The reason I choose the John Rogers book, awesome tittle notwithstanding, is because he’s here, here in Palm Coast, over at the Books a Million doing autograph signings all week. I met him yesterday, just on accident mind you, met him during a random encounter at the bookstore. We had a nice little conversation and yes, he is quite mad, or rather, eccentric would be the politically correct term.”

“
Rich people are eccentric, poor people are just crazy.” A student three chairs down from me announced. “Crazy and broke.”

“
Clever observation.” Adahy conceded. “But yes, we talked, much longer then I thought I would have allowed. Rogers is very convincing. Very charming.
When the Mouth of Madness speaks, sometimes it’s just to say hello, sometimes it’s just to sing you a lullaby, sometimes it’s just to ask directions. But by the time you stop to listen, it’s already too late. You’re dead.
He said that to me during our conversation. Out the blue, random and completely off topic. Then he very causally got up and walked away. That’s how our conversation ended. Intriguing man. That is why you are reading his book.”

Adahy was looking at me intently, judging my reaction to her story. “Why are you covered in dried paint?” She asked finally.

The intercom blared to life: “Excuse the intrusion, Mrs. Shoemo…uh..”

“
Is there something I can help you with?” Adahy was obviously annoyed at the interruption.

“
Is Amber Rose in attendance today?” Came the static voice.

“
Of course she is.” Adahy narrowed her eyes in my direction

“
Please have her report to Principle Girard immediately.” The voice declared.

Ethan gave me an uneasy look. All I wanted to do was kiss him.

“
She’s on her way.” Adahy gave a slight head nod towards the door.

I gathered up all my things, shoved them in my book bag and headed towards the door, running my fingers across Ethan’s back as I passed him. Once outside, I headed towards the Principles office. Just up ahead was some random student patrolling the hallways.

“
Hall pass.” He demanded.

I flipped him the middle finger and held it as I kept walking.

“
Oh that’s mature!” He yelled out, but I had already forgotten him by then.

Just static cling…

I wasn’t exactly sure why they wanted me up at the principal’s office; I’d never been there before. Ever. I don’t get in trouble really, that was more Aiden’s thing then mine. Not so much since him and Abigail hooked up, she really straightened him out on a lot of things, got him going down the right path again so to speak, although neither of them were angels.

I entered the Main Office, coming to a halt before a waist high counter top that separated the waiting area and the administration part of the office. It was stuffy in here, like the air hadn’t been cut on yet, sweat visibly running down the side of the Secretary’s face.

“
Principle Girard wanted to see me.” I announced.

The Secretary pointed to a clipboard on the counter. “Just sign in there and take a seat, she’ll be with you shortly.”

I grabbed the pen and signed my life away. “What’s up with the air?” I asked. “It’s hot in here.”

The woman seemed almost distraught at the question. “It’s not working for some reason. The Principle is trying to get them to come in sometime after lunch to get it fixed.”

I glanced at the kid sitting next to me on the bench. He was asleep. Drool was oozing out the side of his mouth.

“
And it smells like…ass.” I said under my breath.

The Secretary looked at the boy beside me. “I know baby, I know.”

I wasn’t sure how long I waited. Forty-five, maybe fifty minutes before a door behind the counter opened and Principle Girard leaned halfway out the archway.

“
That Amber Rose kid here yet?” She called out. The Secretary motioned in my direction.

“
ROSE! My office. NOW!” Principle Girard demanded. I could tell she was pissed. What I couldn’t tell is if it was because of me or something else altogether.

The Principle ducked back into her office then immediately poked her head back out again. “Mrs. Greta, what is that smell?”

The Secretary scrunched her nose towards the kid sleeping next to me.

“
Hey you!” Principle Girard yelled out. “WAKE UP!”

Homeboy didn’t even budge. In fact, he actually snored louder.

“
You’ve got to be kidding me? Amber Rose, wake him up.” Principle Girard demanded.

I gave him a quick nudge to the ribs. “Dude, eyes front.”

He came awake slowly, squinting his eyes as if the light was hurting him severely.

“
Oh bloody hell.” The kid exclaimed, rubbing his side, slipping the shades that were resting on his head down to his face.

“
Hey, Mr. American Idol. First, sunglasses off.” Yelled the Principle.

“
But…”

“
Save it for Dateline. Second, where are you coming from?” When the kid took off his shades I could swear I saw his eyes go from white to completely bloodshot in seconds.

“
Gym.” He announced, squinting as he looked away from the sun.

“
Well that explains the…aroma. Third, why are you here?”

“
Well I…”

“
Please do not insult my intelligence by lying.” Principle Girard added.

The kid let out a sigh. “Cigarettes.”

The Principle shook her head. “Your lungs, your cancer. But in the meantime, you’ve just volunteered yourself for the school bake sale this month AND the annual car wash next month…”

“
Is that all?” He interrupted.

“
What? Slow your roll boy and pump your brakes, I ain’t done yet. AND you’ve just volunteered for concession stand duty for the next three home games AND…”

“
Oh come on Principle Girard.” The sullen boy cried out. At that precise moment, she gave him such a look of utter contempt that I had to fight back laugher.

“
Are you staring at my boobs?”

The boy seemed flustered as he tried to garner a response.

“
He was totally checking them out.” I chimed in.

“
Uh…”

“
Please refrain from answering rhetorical questions Mr…” Principle Girard cut a look towards Greta.

“
Horatio Venezuela Jr. Ma’am.”

“
...Mr. Horatio Venezuela Jr.” The Principle continued without skipping a beat. “Well that’s a mouthful. Venezuela. Son to Salomé Venezuela. I do believe she runs the emergency room up in St. Augustine.”

“
Yeah, she does her trauma thing.” Horatio admitted.

“
She does her trauma thing. How eloquent.” Stated the Principle. “I’m sure she would be very interested in knowing that her son was suspended for a month for smoking on campus.”

This caught little Horatio Juniors attention. “Suspended?”

“
Not to mention the fact, that if you were smoking, then you would have used a lighter, or matches, whatever your pleasure may be, but considering the fact that lighters and matches are on the list of banned contraband and classified as a weapon, I am well within my rights to contact the authorities…”