Still Sucks to Be Me: More All-True Confessions of Mina Hamilton, Teen Vampire

by Kimberly Pauley

  That makes me wonder again. “Cameron, what was your year?” I’m guessing it’s okay to ask, since Roy did. Cameron doesn’t look as old (or hairy) as Roy, but I guess he technically could be even older. Though not creepier. That I think I’d be able to tell. After meeting these guys, I’m not so worried about Cameron’s intentions anymore. Though he could have picked better people to introduce me to.

  “Oh, Cameron’s not one for sharing,” drawls Lowell, standing up to put an arm around both Cameron’s shoulders and mine. He pulls us close. Close enough I can tell he’s been drinking something in addition to the A negative. A lot of something.

  “Lowell, cut it out.” Cameron squirms out of Lowell’s grubby hold. But Lowell just pulls me closer.

  “Hey,” growls Roy. “I saw the fresh meat first.” He leans forward like he’s going to try and kiss me or something. I go to step back but Lowell’s still got my shoulder in a death grip, so I put my hands up to block Roy (there’s NO way he’s getting anywhere near my lips) but find myself suddenly pulled away. Roy and Lowell bump heads and both step back cursing.

  “Why don’t I get you home,” says Cameron, his hands still warm on my shoulders. I don’t know how he moved that fast. I’m not even sure what he did. I just know I’m grateful. “It’s a little too friendly around here tonight.”

  11

  As soon as there is enough daylight that there might be stores open (ha, if I can find any), I tell Mom it’s time to go electronics shopping. Or else.

  I go for the power punch of parental guilt and tell her I need a cell phone because, if I was going to go out without a car of my own, I might need to call home for a ride. She totally buys it. What parent with a teenage daughter wouldn’t? But the real reason is I’m going to go totally insane if I don’t get a cell phone soon. I don’t think I’ve ever gone this long without talking to Serena before, especially not with so much stuff to tell her. Not that I’m supposed to be calling her or anything, since she’s supposed to think I’m dead. And I’m going to have to go, like, miles away from the house to make sure Mom and Dad don’t hear me talking to her, but I’m going to talk to her tonight somehow if it kills me. Not that it could. You know what I mean.

  Dad is stuck hanging around the house since the cable guy is supposed to come today and set up our Internet connection and TV hookup. Dad had finally figured out that it was actually possible to get connected to the real world from here. You just had to talk to Eugenie, who talked to her brother Amos, who talked to some guy he knew, who set it up with the cable company to get someone to come out to our place. Or something all convoluted like that.

  Mom and I drive all the way to Jennings, the town with the Piggly Wiggly. (It turns out that it’s a pretty normal grocery store and carries Pop-Tarts, so I’m good.) We hit the electronics store first and pick up a cell phone for each of us. Since the VRA still has all our funds tied up and Dad hasn’t started up with Dr. Jonas yet (what the big rush was with getting us here, I certainly don’t know), we wind up with last year’s models, but I talk Mom into getting the texting package anyway. I think she is feeling the guilt. And she should. Who’s ever heard of having to drive to another town to go shopping?

  Then she hits me with this: “Why don’t we get your back-to-school shopping done while we’re here? There’s a SaveMart.”

  Okay, so I’m not exactly a style maven and I definitely wouldn’t know enough to make it through even one episode of just about any show on the Style Network. But geez. I at least tried to have some semblance of fashion before. I mean, I wasn’t like haunting the cool boutiques or anything, but I at least did my shopping at an actual mall.

  I guess Mom can tell I’m less than thrilled, since she puts an arm around my shoulders. “I know this is a big adjustment, Mina. We’ll just buy a couple of basics now, and after the VRA releases our funds we’ll go shopping in New Orleans, okay? I’m sure they’ve got at least some of the stores you’re used to. And at least you’ll be out of the stuff they left us in the house. I wouldn’t mind a new shirt or two myself.”

  I snort. That’s an understatement. Ivetta (who apparently is the do-it-all contact here) has less than no fashion sense, at least when it comes to finding stuff for other people. She’d given us an assortment of not-so-matching clothes to go along with our not-so-matching furniture. The best outfit I’d been able to scrape together was a pair of ratty jeans and a T-shirt with some cartoon character that I’d never even heard of on it (some bug-eyed cat). Mom has been knocking around in a frilly purple and pink sundress that was so-o-o-o not her. If anything, it looked very Eugenie. And Dad? Well, come to think of it, he doesn’t actually look much different. He still just looks like Dad.

  So we spend a couple of hours trying to piece together some decent outfits out of the racks at the SaveMart. As I score a surprisingly nice red shirt off of the sale rack, Mom gives a little telltale throat clearing. Uh-oh.

  “Mina …,” she starts off and then clears her throat again. That’s definitely a bad sign. It can’t be the shirt—the neckline is high enough to even be Dad approved.

  “Yeah?”

  “I was just thinking … you know, since we’re in a brand new place with … well, essentially brand new lives … now is the perfect time, don’t you think, for all of us to turn over new leaves?”

  What kind of new-age mumbo jumbo is she talking about? How much more new can things get? I keep flipping through the sale rack.

  “I just mean …” She sighs. Wow, this is so unlike Mom. She’s usually the take-charge gal. “Your dad is trying something new and expanding his horizons. And I’m not sure yet what I’m going to do next, but it definitely won’t be teaching. I’d like to try something new myself. And you … well, I think you’ve got the perfect chance here to really shine. Make new friends. Maybe … maybe try to keep a positive attitude when you meet people.”

  “Exactly what are you trying to say? I’m positive I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Just that you might try being a bit more open-minded about people. Just … you know, be nice. Nicer. I don’t mean to say you aren’t nice already.”

  No? Well, it sure sounds like that’s what she’s saying to me. Geez, from my own mother!

  She sighs again. “This isn’t coming out right. I’m sorry. What I mean to say is that I know things are rough on you, especially with losing Serena and then George moving to Brazil.”

  “Visiting Brazil.”

  “Okay, visiting Brazil. I’m just saying that I’d like you to take this as an opportunity and not as a setback. There are lots of people out there who would love to be able to reinvent themselves and we’ve got the chance. We can be anything, do anything.”

  “Oh? I’d like to be in California again. I don’t see that happening.”

  “I know, sweetie. That’s just what I mean. We all need to accept the reality of things and move forward. I just think you should try, okay?”

  “Like what, exactly?”

  “Well, what did you think of that Grady fellow? Eugenie says he’s a nice young man.”

  Of course she does. She’s his mom. He could be an axe murderer and she’d probably say he was just misunderstood. Not that he is, but you know what I mean. “He was okay. Kind of full of himself. Why?”

  “No reason.” She flips through a rack of jeans like her life depends on it and clears her throat again. Just what is she trying to say?

  “I thought he was quite handsome,” she says.

  “Yeah, for an overly muscular pretty boy who probably carries a mirror around so he can check his biceps out from every angle. So?”

  She sighs for like the three millionth time and stops messing with the jeans. “I just think you ought to keep your options open.”

  My options? What options? I’m living here because I have no options. “I think you’re going to have to spell it out for me, Mom.”

  “Okay, okay. I think George is a wonderful boy, but he is half a world away. And you’re so young.
There’s no reason to tie yourself down, especially when you have literally lifetimes in front of you.”

  “You think I should dump George for Grady?” Holy cheese, what has she been smoking? That’s like dumping Prince Charming for the troll under the bridge. Not that Grady is remotely troll-like. But you get the point.

  “No, no, honey. I’m just saying that you should keep your options open. Keep an open mind.”

  Yeah, whatever. George is an awesome boyfriend. Besides,

  a) It’s not like I’ve got a lot of experience in the whole boy department. She should be happy I even have a boyfriend at all. Even if he’s in Brazil and hasn’t bothered to write to me for over a week. He’s still my boyfriend. (I think.)

  b) Grady is cute, but seems about as interesting as a hole in the wall, not to mention he’s got a bunch of baggage (i.e., around 110 pounds of baggage in a sparkly pink T-shirt).

  c) And hello! Grady is a non-vampire. Mom turned just so she could stay with Dad. Why would she even suggest I take a look at a regular guy? Sounds like heartbreak city to me. Of course, I haven’t told her about Cameron, who is a vampire. And is really cute in a non-big-bicep kind of way.

  d) But hello again. Awesome boyfriend. Don’t need a new one.

  I guess Mom can tell I’m not really buying it. “And I’m not saying that you’ll ever be able to replace Serena, but who knows who you might meet tomorrow once school starts? You never know.”

  No one could ever replace Serena and I don’t need anyone to. Of course, she doesn’t know that. But to even suggest it … cheese.

  “How are you liking Eugenie as your new BFF?”

  She grimaces a little. Got her there. “I get your point. But she’s growing on me because I’m keeping an open mind. And that’s all I’m asking you to do too. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I say grudgingly. I can try to be nice. But no one, and I mean no one here or anywhere else, will ever replace Serena. Or George.

  I start texting as soon as we get in the car to go back to Cartville.

  Send text to(SERENA)

  Me (4:53 pm): HT, UT?

  Me (4:54 pm): Hey S

  Me (4:55 pm): my nw phn

  Me (4:59 pm): UT?

  Me (5:02 pm): u ok?

  Me (5:10 pm): TXT ME!

  It’s not like Serena to not have her cell phone with her. Maybe she just doesn’t recognize the number? But she should be expecting something from me by now. I’ve got so much to tell her and I want to make sure Raven isn’t bothering her. I wonder if I could sic Linda on Raven? She’s training in the Vampire Corps, the über-crazy enforcers of the vampire world, now—or something crazy like that. Though she did hang out with Raven some in class. I never could figure out why.

  Send text to(GEORGE)

  Me (5:15 pm): G!

  Me (5:15 pm): H&K

  Me (5:16 pm): XOXOXO

  Me (5:17 pm): gt nw phn

  Me (5:18 pm): WUWH :(

  Me (5:20 pm): UT?

  Me (5:22 pm): Brzl ok?

  Me (5:23 pm): G??

  So much for finally getting a cell phone again. Where is everyone?

  12

  Dad is in a complete tizzy when we get back. I think at first it’s because we’re all connected to the world again, but then I notice he’s gone all happy homemaker on us. He has set out like five different pitchers and carafes full of blood (which was pretty much our entire supply at the present, since we still hadn’t figured out a local “pig swigger” contact. Okay, other than Ernie, but I hadn’t exactly told them about dropping by a blood bar with a sexy vampire stranger I’d just met, so-o-o …) and little trays of sandwiches and things like that. There’s even a dish with little bitty pickles, with toothpicks to stab them with.

  “What’s up with the Rachael Ray, Dad?” That is, if Rachael Ray had gone all vampire, which I would seriously pay money to see. Big bucks. I can’t even imagine how big her fangs would be.

  “Dr. Jonas is coming over! He’ll be here any minute. Hurry, get changed! Do you have a dress? Can you comb your hair?”

  Wow. This dude must be seriously big time. I’ve never seen Dad so excited. Or freaked out. He even buttoned his shirt wrong, but Mom reels him in and fixes it. I don’t think he notices. He’s practically hyperventilating.

  The doorbell rings while I’m changing into one of my new outfits (not a dress, since I didn’t buy one, and besides, I’m not that excited to meet some ancient historian dude) and I hear Dad squeak out a high-pitched “He’s here!” before Mom shushes him and gets the door. By the time I get out there, they’ve already made their introductions and are sitting kind of awkwardly in the living room, staring at each other. Well, Dad at least. He’s staring at Dr. Jonas like he’s covered in gold or something.

  Which he isn’t. Though he does have this look about him like he should be covered in dust. He doesn’t actually look that old, just a little bit of peppery gray in his hair and kind of a craggy face. He was probably turned when he was in his forties or maybe even fifties, like Uncle Mortie, but there’s something about him that just screams ancient. Maybe the smell. He smells old. Like mothballs and whatever that smell is they get in old-people homes. Cottage cheese? Dust bunnies? Metamucil? I bet even non-vampires can tell he’s an antique. I wonder what year he is?

  Dad jumps up like a puppet on a string. “Dr. Jonas, this is my daughter, Mina.”

  Dr. Musty gets up too, but a lot slower. I go over and shake his hand. “Nice to meet you,” I say and smile my best you-employ-my-Dad smile though it kind of pains me to be nice to him when he’s also the reason we’re stuck in Cartville.

  “The pleasure is all mine,” he says in a wispy, paper-thin voice. Wow, dude even sounds ancient. Does he really dig up prehistoric vampire secrets, or does he just remember stuff?

  Dad offers the good doctor a selection of cow, pig, or sheep blood and I’m relieved when he just takes a glass with a thanks and sits there sipping it, rather than ragging on us for being pig swiggers. That’s really been kind of bugging me. I don’t see how you can call somebody any kind of swigger or anything related to a pig and have it be completely harmless.

  “So,” says Dr. Musty, “how have you been enjoying Cartville so far?”

  “Well, it could be worse,” I say. “I guess you could have been researching Siberian bloodsuckers.” They all turn to look at me. What? It’s true.

  Dad laughs nervously and then goes on and on about how “quaint” Cartville is. Maybe I don’t have the right definition of quaint. Mom tactfully says something about how nice the people are.

  “Yes, most of the people here are very welcoming, until you start digging into things they don’t want dug up,” Dr. Jonas says in his wispy voice. “I’m speaking, of course, of the Carters. This has been one of the more difficult research challenges of my career.”

  “Some of them seem kind of nice,” I blurt out, forgetting (once again) about that whole not interrupting your elders thing. And this dude is definitely my elder, probably by like a thousand years.

  “Oh, and to whom are you referring?” Dr. Jonas looks down his nose at me. Maybe he’s old school, with the whole “be seen and not heard” thing.

  I shift a little in my seat. This probably isn’t the best way to tell Mom and Dad about the whole after-the-party blood bar visit. “Um, Cameron? And a couple of others. Lowell, I think? But Cameron seemed really nice. Not so much Lowell.” And hot. Cameron, that is. But NOT dwelling on that.

  “Oh? And where did you meet them, perchance?”

  I don’t think I like his tone or his line of questioning. Geez, he’s worse than Mom and Dad, who are also now looking at me quizzically like I was out doing something wrong. What’s their problem? Didn’t Mom tell me to get out there and meet people?

  I lean forward to grab a pickle from the coffee table. “I met Cameron at a party that Grady Broussard took me to.”

  “And Lowell was there?” He sounds incredulous, in a whispery sort of way.

  I can’
t help but laugh. Lowell would look like some kind of trolling geezer at a high-school kid’s party. Which I guess he kind of was. “No, Cameron took me to Ernie’s after the party.”

  “Ah,” he says, and leans back in his chair, satisfied at last. Man, I bet this is how he interrogates his research victims.

  “You went to a party with Grady but left with another boy?” Mom sounds scandalized. Dad just glances apologetically at Dr. Musty, like he can’t believe his daughter would do such a thing. Cheese.

  “It wasn’t like that. This girl Kacie was all mad at me for being there with Grady and I didn’t want a scene—”

  “Oh, yes,” says the sage Dr. Musty. “Kacie Kinsley. She’s been after Grady Broussard for quite some time. They did go out a few times, but nothing serious. At least, not on Grady’s part.”

  Why in the world does he even know that? We all stare at him.

  He shrugs delicately and takes a tiny bite of a little tuna fish sandwich. “It’s a small town,” he says. “I think you’ll find that you’ll soon know everyone’s business.”

  Huh. Sounds like a crazy place to send a bunch of vampires to hide out in, if you ask me.

  “And who is Ernie?” Dad asks.

  “I was going to tell you about that,” I say, resisting the urge to glare at Dr. Musty. “Ernie’s is the local blood bar. Cameron said it’s about the only place to go around here for blood. It’s in the woods just a couple of miles outside of town.”

  “You went to a blood bar without telling us?” Mom looks even more scandalized now. For heaven’s sake, it’s not like I’m a little kid anymore.

  “I didn’t know that’s where we were going until we got there. Besides, you’ve been looking for a blood supplier. I thought you’d be happy.” They could at least say thank you, couldn’t they?

  Dad stands up like he’s going to pass around the tray of cookies he’s holding on his lap, but stops in front of me instead to give me the evil eye. “So, you just went somewhere where you didn’t even know you were going, with some boy you didn’t even know, without telling anyone about it?”