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

by Kimberly Pauley

  Okay, when you put it that way, it does sound a little bad. And I did have a little moment there where I thought Cameron might go all hack and slash on me, but everything turned out okay, didn’t it?

  I shove the pickle in my mouth and take a couple of the cookies. “I’m fine,” I mumble as I chew. “Nothing happened. And in case you’ve forgotten, I do have that whole vampire superstrength thing and whatnot going for me now.” Not to mention I could totally kick butt before any of that too. “And I told you, Cameron is really nice. Right, Dr. Jonas?” I leave out the part where he saved me from being groped by Roy and Lowell. I could have taken care of myself anyway.

  He stares at me. “It remains to be seen. He’s new to the area and I haven’t been successful in interviewing him.”

  “Funny, he said he came back last year. It definitely sounded like he’d been here before.” I pop a chocolate chip cookie in my mouth and then wish I hadn’t. Dad must have baked them.

  Dr. Musty leans forward like a bloodhound on the scent of something big and hairy. “Oh? And what else did you learn there at Ernie’s? Did he say anything about the Carters to you? Ask you any interesting questions? Perhaps mention any affiliations he might have?”

  Affiliations? Like what? Key Club? Geez, this guy is weird. And nosy. I hope Dad doesn’t go all weird from working with him.

  “No-o-o … just that Lowell was a Carter too.” And that stuff about how John and Wayne used to keep humans, but I leave that out. Probably he knows that already anyway and if my parents don’t, they don’t need to know it right now. Weirdo Carters. “Hey, how come they haven’t had to change their names?” That’s totally not fair, now that I think about it.

  “They have used many identities over the years, but they do tend to stick to their chosen names. The Carter brothers and their Clan are not known for their rule-following abilities.”

  “Well, it doesn’t seem to be hurting them anyway. The VRA should get a grip and let the rest of us keep our names too.”

  Mom gives me a warning look.

  Dad glances nervously at Dr. Musty and leans forward in just the same way. He half whispers, “You are certain the Carters didn’t mention any affiliations?”

  “Yes, I’m sure!” I look at Dad and suddenly feel sorry for him. He is so obviously trying to impress this guy. He’s even started talking like him. I decide to throw him a bone. “Oh, yeah. There was one thing. Cameron said John and Wayne are probably on their way back to town.”

  “Very interesting.” Dr. Musty turns to Dad. “At least your daughter’s bad judgment brought some new information to light. The brothers coming to town will, I daresay, make our jobs that much more difficult in the coming months. But forewarned is forearmed.” He sighs. “And I had a feeling I was so close to making the connection.”

  My bad judgment? Who the heck does he think he is? Oh yeah, the reason I’m stuck in this town. Well, I guess I can add “nosy” and “pompous” to the list of stuff I don’t like about him, and I’ve known him for only half an hour.

  13

  Praise the Internet gods!

  After Dr. Musty leaves, I go out on my nightly run (i.e., excuse to get out of the house). When I come back, Dad has finally gotten the Internet set up.

  I spend the rest of the night online and sending e-mails to everyone I can think of: Serena (five times), George (eight times), Lorelai (twice), Linda (what the heck, once), and Uncle Mortie (I was really getting desperate).

  I got back exactly one reply, from Linda, who was in the middle of some top-secret training program (or so she said, though how secret is it if she could tell me that much?) and didn’t have time to do more than say “Hey!” and “Isn’t being a vampire COOL?” I will never get that girl. I wonder if she got her bee and butterfly tattoos before turning? I know she was thinking about it, and you can’t get them after since you heal too fast for them to take. I e-mail her back again to ask if she’s seen Raven at all.

  The next few hours I spend going through my meager supply of clothes (thanks, Josh-erator, O Killer of Fashion) for my first day of school in the morning. This is my first time picking out my outfit without Serena, which makes it that much more depressing. Especially since the last time I had any contact with her at all was really kind of a bust.

  It’s pretty easy to pick out my most stylish outfit, since I don’t have a lot of choices: a pair of decent jeans that I’d snuck in my bag when the Josh-erator wasn’t looking, and that one slightly retro red shirt I’d found at the store. All I can say is that the VRA better do whatever it is they need to do and either send us some more fundage or my stuff. They said we could get it back. Not that I trust them.

  Though it’s probably just as well that I don’t have my whole wardrobe since I probably would have wound up changing outfits a million times without Serena to be my mirror. Why couldn’t they have put off relocating until after my senior year? I was just really starting to get comfortable in my old school. Now I have to start all over again.

  I really wish Serena were here.

  I go back to the computer to send her one more message and see that I’ve finally gotten a reply from her. About time! I was seriously about to start calling the police with an anonymous tip or something. The date stamp says 9:00 a.m., which is about 7:00 a.m. for her in California. Which worries me, since it’s way early for her (school doesn’t start out there for another week or two). It means either (a) something is dreadfully wrong, or (b) she stayed out so late with Nathan that she was still up.

  Turns out that it’s (a).

  hey girllll!

  about time u wrote!!! ur up L8 … no rest 4 the wicked, rght?? Got ur txt yesterday, srry didn’t snd back. trouble at home with the rentals. Mom & Dad are into it big time.

  they argue ALL THE TIME now!!! it SUXXXXXXX!!!!! h8 it! Wish u were here. Nate is gr8, but not the same. :-/

  went school shpping all by myself yesterday. ver ver sad. Saw a dress tht u would luv!

  U should stop stressing ovr tht stpd goth chick. don’t waste the email space. i haven’t seen her. tld u she was jst being weird.

  I miss u! Write bk soon, k? Gotta go, the horror is banging on the door.

  luv ya,

  serena

  Oh man, that sucks. I’m glad Raven’s not bugging her, but this is worse. Serena’s mom is this really nasty woman who spends all her time and energy on Serena’s little beauty queen sister. I bet that’s what she and Serena’s dad were fighting about. He’s the only one in the family who’s decent to Serena at all. Now I feel like an idiot for sending her those five e-mails full of nothing but me complaining about how crappy Cartville is and how I can’t get in touch with George. Having your parents at each other’s throats is way worse. Gah.

  hey S—

  that suxxxxx rocks. I’m so sorry!! I wish i could do somethin. if u think of ANYTHING u need at all, let me know and i’ll do whatever i can. Anythin 4 U!

  i hope they work things out. =( Tell Nate to take u out & spoil u rotten. U deserve it.

  Sending you lotsa hugs. XOXOXOXO

  miss u!

  Min

  I feel so useless. Serena’s going through this really nasty situation and I’m stuck halfway across the country where I can’t do anything about it. Not that there’s a whole lot I could do, but I could at least get her out of the house. I miss our monthly Girl’s Night In. I bet she does too. My mom is more like a mom to her than hers is. And way nicer. And prettier. Not that that makes a difference. Just saying.

  I send one more e-mail to George and then spend some more time online. Which is totally the wrong thing to do when you’re trying NOT to think about how your boyfriend apparently can’t find the time to e-mail you or call you or even send you a teeny-tiny little text.

  Because what do I do? I google Brazil, where apparently the girls all run around in these skimpy little bathing suits. And I do mean skimpy. Have you heard of the Brazilian? It’s a type of bikini waxing thing where they essentially take off all
your hair. Down there. Seriously. Like really ALL of it. Places where you didn’t even think you had hair.

  Yet another thing I didn’t want to learn from the Internet. Even as a vampire with a pain threshold of who knows what, I don’t want to think about that.

  Though it’s slightly less painful than thinking about George cavorting around on some Brazilian beach with a bunch of Brazilian-waxed bikini babes.

  14

  I’m watching yet another stupid cat video when I hear dad singing off-key in the shower, which mean’s he’s deliriously happy to be getting ready for work AND I’m nearly late for my first day of school. Agh! Curse you, Lolcats!

  I run the couple of blocks to school with my mostly empty backpack (schedule from the Josh-erator, two pencils, one pen, and some college-rule paper) and in through the main door. Maybe I should have gone in early like Mom said or at least figured out where the office was ahead of time.

  The school feels really small after going to McAdam for the last three years, but big enough that I can’t find the office. It’s not like a one-room schoolhouse or anything, but it’s way smaller than my old school. And very blah looking. The whole thing is made of concrete block, like a prison or something, and all the walls are institutional gray. Every door looks like every other door, which also doesn’t help.

  And the cafeteria smells weird. Like wet dog and Cheetos. I can smell it everywhere I go as I run through the rapidly emptying halls. Chalk one up for being a vampire. NOT.

  I’m really glad I don’t have to eat, especially considering it’s just the first day of the year. I don’t know how I’m going to stand the smell after it’s had some time to build up. Gah. I can just imagine Taco Salad Thursday. I need to ask Mom if there’s some way you can block the whole supersniffer thing. I mean, she worked in a middle school back home in California, and I’m sure it smells just as bad as here. Maybe worse.

  I finally ask a janitor guy where the office is (four more doors down, duh). And there’s Eugenie, filing papers. I’d forgotten she said she volunteered at the school too. It’s almost good to see a familiar face.

  “Hey there, Mina, sweetie. You runnin’ a little behind? Spend a little extra time on your hair? Or”—she squints her eyes at my head—“maybe not.”

  Hey, my hair isn’t that bad today. I hope. I didn’t actually check it before I ran out of the house. “Um, yeah. Hey, Eugenie. I guess I need to check in.”

  She clucks her tongue at me and pulls a compact mirror and a bottle of Aqua Net out of her purse. “Why don’t you let me see what they gave you while you check out those curls. Don’t wanna make a bad impression your first day!”

  “Um, right. Well, here’s what I got.” I hand her the letter the Josh-erator gave me and take the mirror. Yikes. I run my finger through my wild hair a few times and give it a light touch of hairspray, but there’s not really much I can do without a brush. Or a flamethrower. I set the mirror and the hairspray on the counter.

  Eugenie glances at the letter and then flips through a file drawer and pulls out a folder with my name on it. It’s so weird to see “Mina Smith” instead of “Mina Hamilton.” I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to that. And what’ll it be like a couple of hundred years from now? Who knows what my name will even be? Hopefully something better than “Smith.”

  “You know what, honey? I’m gonna stick you in AP English.” Eugenie scratches something out and then scribbles on both my copy and whatever she’s got in her files. She gives me a wink when she’s done. “Your GPA is good enough and you had Honors English at your last school. I’m not sure why you weren’t in there to begin with. You really ought to be thinking about your transcript for college, you know. At least you were already signed up for Calculus with Mrs. McNeal. She’s an excellent teacher.”

  Like I even had anything at all to do with my schedule. But I don’t tell her that. “Um, okay.” I doubt if it makes much of a difference anyway. And as bored as I’ve been, a little extra homework actually sounds kind of good.

  “If you have any questions, you just come on by anytime. I told Mari I’d take care of you. Now then, let me call your student mentor to come pick you up and show you where everything is.”

  “That’s really not necessary,” I start to say, but she just shushes me and picks up a phone.

  “Mrs. Hebert? Could you please send Henny to the front office?” She smiles at me again and says, “You’re just gonna love Henny, I know it. I’d’ve gotten Grady to show you around, but Henny just begged and begged. She’s dying to meet you!”

  Again, I have to ask: where do these people find their names?

  Henny gets there in no time and bursts in through the door at full speed. She’s quite a bit shorter than me (shorter, in fact, than Serena, and that’s saying something) and has some crazy fuzzy brown hair and a round face. And she’s smiling. Of course.

  “Mornin’, Eugenie! And you must be Mina! From California, right?”

  “Right, um, Henny.” She nods happily. She reminds me a little bit of Linda, except without the weird vibe. Okay, and maybe not the Chess Club vibe either. She’s more like a little mini pep rally on short legs.

  “Let me take you to your locker first. It’s right by mine.” And with that she takes off out the door like a little jackrabbit.

  “Don’t forget your schedule and your locker combination!” Eugenie hands me some papers and then gives me a little wave and another big smile.

  Henny is already halfway down the hall and she’s still talking. I guess she didn’t even notice I wasn’t right behind her. “… it here, I’m sure. Though I bet it’s nothing like what you’re used to in California. I’ve never been there, but I’ve heard it’s real nice. I did go to Florida once to go to Disneyland. Or is it Disney World? I forget which one’s which. Did you go to the original one out there in California? Is it any different? I guess all Mickeys and Plutos look the same. But enough about that. I heard you went to Lonnie Pratt’s big back-to-school party with Grady Broussard.” She whistles and gives me a wink as I catch up to her. “Grady’s quite a catch, but you might want to watch out for the other fish, if you know what I mean. Though I also heard you left with Cameron Carter … is that true?” She actually stops talking long enough for me to answer her.

  “Yes, but it wasn’t—”

  “Interesting,” she says. “Very interesting. Cameron just started here at the end of last year. He was the last new person we got before you, but I guess he’s related to a bunch of the Carters around here somehow, so it’s not like he’s really a stranger, ya know? He’s pretty hot too, in a really distant kind of way, but some girls like that kind of thing. But he’s always ignored all us local girls. I heard he doesn’t date. Never heard of him leaving a party with anyone before. I don’t know why he even goes to them, always sits himself down in a corner and stays there all night. Where’d he take you?”

  Boy, a little nosy, isn’t she? And it’s not like I can tell her about Ernie’s. I shrug and almost lose my backpack. “He took me home. It was no big deal. I just needed a ride.”

  “But I thought you went to the party with Grady?”

  Okay, I guess this must just be a small-town thing, like Dr. Musty said. Either that, or else everyone I’ve talked to is just incredibly nosy. Or I have “sucker” written all over my face (probably right underneath where it says “not from around here”).

  “Well, kind of. It wasn’t like a date or anything like that. And there was this girl Kacie—”

  Henny holds up her hand. “Say no more. I get it. Hey, here are our lockers.”

  I fumble with the papers Eugenie gave me, trying to find the one with the locker combination on it, and manage to drop all of them. They scatter around my feet and I stoop to pick them up. When I stand up again, there’s Henny with my locker door already open.

  “Here you go!” she says cheerfully. “I had that locker freshman year. They never change the combos here. My mom’s old locker down the hall still has the same
combination as when she had it.”

  Well, that’s safe. Why do they even bother having locks at all?

  Henny is in only two of my classes (physics and the weird health class they stuck me in called Food & Nutrition … which so-o-o doesn’t apply to me, but how am I supposed to explain that?) but she meets me at the door after every single class to walk me to the next one. I don’t think I could get away from her if I tried. And she’s not the only one either. Everyone, and I do mean everyone, seems to want to talk to me or just stare at me. It’s kind of creepy. Not that I necessarily liked being Invisible Girl at McAdam, but being Girl Under a Microscope is kind of worse. And Grady has managed to meet me after three of my classes even though he’s only in one of them (Calculus, so apparently there’s a brain in that cute head of his). By lunchtime I’m totally ready to leave. Or at least give my hair a really good brushing.

  I’m seriously thinking about ducking out a side door when Grady throws his arm around my shoulders and steers me to the cafeteria.

  When we walk in, I swear that the whole place goes quiet for a beat and then the conversation picks up again. And they are all talking about me, even the teachers. It’s crazy. With my superhearing, I can hear just about every word (and it’s totally giving me a headache). Here’s just a sampling:

  “Have you seen the new girl’s eyes?” (Oh, c’mon! I mean, they are really ultrablue now, but I don’t look like a total freak or anything. I don’t think. I hope.)

  “I am totally getting that shirt she has on. Do you think it’s from one of those famous stores on Rodeo Drive? It must be.” (Ha, little does she know. Try SaveMart, sweetie. Not that I would ever admit that.)

  “Is she talkin’ to Grady? Do you think she’s talkin’ to Grady?” (Um, hello, he’s standing right next to me, so yes, I’m talking to him. Wouldn’t it be rude not to? I so do not get the South.)