Night School

by Mari Mancusi

  Instead, I raise my fists. “I’ll show you adorable. Right up your effing—”

  “Rayne! Stop it!” Sunny hisses, this time stamping on my foot to get my attention. I look over angrily and she wags her finger at me. “Remember what Headmistress Roberta said,” she warns.

  “Yeah, Rayne,” mocks the shorter boy, who’s stocky and wearing a tool belt lined with wooden stakes. “Remember what Headmistress Roberta said.”

  I swallow hard, forcing my hands down to my sides. “Fine,” I manage to spit out. “But I’ll have you know, I’m no babe in the slayer woods just because I didn’t go to your stupid boarding school. I’ve taken down two big-bads through this so-called home-schooled program. And that doesn’t even count all the werewolves. All while you have been stuck reading, writing and ‘rithmatic’ing here at Riverdale I’ll bet.”

  Jerk-off smiles nastily at me, then turns to the Miley Cyrus girl and nods. “Varuka, do you want to break it down for Home School?”

  Varuka pulls out a small pad of paper from her Betsey John-son purse and flips through it. “Peter has staked seventeen vampires in total,” she reads. “Mara has eight under her belt—but she just transferred last year. Leanna”—she nods in the direction of corset girl—“has killed twenty-seven, though some of them were during the burning lair assignment. You tend to rack up kills pretty quickly that way. I just hit sixteen yesterday ...”

  “And I, Corbin Billingsworth the Third,” interrupts Jerk-off, “have slain sixty-three since arriving at Slay School.” He pulls off his sunglasses and stares me down with flashing, cat-like green eyes. “All stakes, Little Slayer,” he adds, mockingly. “And all vampires.”

  I swallow hard. Oh-kay then. Evidently they’re quite ... progressive ... here at Slay School. I’m suddenly really, really glad they can’t tell I’m a real-live vampire.

  “Well, well,” I manage to say at last. “I stand corrected. And while I’d love to stay and pop the celebratory champagne for your oh-so-amazing feats of wonder and awe, my sister and I have to get back to the dorm. So if you lovely slayers will excuse us ...”

  I attempt to elbow past them, but before I can break through, Corbin nods to Peter and the tool with the tool belt grabs me by the arms, whirling me around and effectively pinning me against his chest.

  “Let me go!” I growl, struggling to free myself. But Peter just twists my arm, causing me to involuntarily squeal in pain.

  “I’m sorry, Little Slayer,” Corbin says smoothly. “But you didn’t say ‘please.’”

  Ooh, that does it. I’m so ready to kick some serious Slay School ass. Seriously, it’d be almost worth getting nano’ed just to get one good punch in ...

  But no. For Sunny’s sake, I need to suck it up. “Fine,” I say, through gritted teeth. “May we, my good sir, PLEASE have permission to step away from your glorious presence for a short time?”

  Corbin smirks and for a moment I think he’s actually going to deny me still, but then he nods his head at Peter. “Let her go,” he commands.

  Peter does and I accidentally-on-purpose stomp on his foot as I stumble away. He howls in protest and Corbin’s cat eyes lock onto mine. “You’re a feisty one, Little Slayer,” he purrs. “I like that.” Giving me a mocking bow, he adds, “I’ll be keeping my eye on you.” Then he turns to his little minions and gestures for them to follow him down the hill, thankfully leaving Sunny and I alone at last.

  “What a jerk!” I growl as I watch them go.

  “You weren’t exactly Miss Congeniality yourself,” Sunny reminds me.

  “What was I supposed to do?” I ask her. “Get down on the ground and let them walk all over us? Kiss their skinny slayer asses? Not in this lifetime, sister.”

  Sunny opens her mouth, probably to say something super annoying about turning the other cheek, but luckily is interrupted by an anxious Lilli, who’s standing a few feet away, wringing her hands together, her face white and anxious.

  “Are you guys okay?!”

  “Yeah, we’re fine. Just a little wounded pride.” I glare down the road at the retreating gang. The others students scurry to keep their distance as they pass by like they’re God’s gift to vampire slayers. “What’s up with those losers?”

  Lilli rolls her eyes. “They’re Alphas,” she explains. “The best of the best, here at Slay School and they know it, too. Total bullies to anyone who doesn’t live up to their skill or coolness standards—which is just about everyone besides the five of them. Trust me, you’re best off avoiding them as much as possible.”

  “Don’t worry,” I say, shaking my head and turning away from the group. “I have absolutely no interest in becoming friends.” With them or anyone else at this godforsaken school at this point.

  “Anyway, I swear not everyone here at Slay School is like that. In fact, most people are really nice,” Lilli insists. “Why don’t you come down to the cafeteria with me and I’ll introduce you around? We could get you some food or a ... drink of some kind.” She looks at me like she can tell I’m starved.

  Her offer makes my stomach growl, but sadly not for what the Slay School cafeteria will provide. This growing bloodlust is going to be a serious problem. I wonder how long I can go without drinking ...

  I realize Lilli is waiting for an answer.

  “Sun? You want to eat?” I ask my sister for the second time today.

  But predictably, Lady Lovelorn shakes her head. “I just ... I just want to go back to our room,” she says sadly. “I’ll catch you later.” And with that, she turns and continues to trudge up the hill toward the dorm without even a good-bye.

  “Sorry,” I say to Lilli. “I’d better go check on her. She’s really homesick.”

  Lilli watches Sunny go. “I understand,” she says. “I can grab some extra food and drinks and bring them back for you.”

  I guess I should be grateful there’s at least one decent person at this ridiculous school, even if she is a bit annoying. After thanking her, I say my good-byes and head back to the room to find my sister.

  I find her, not surprisingly, I suppose, curled up in a ball, cradling her useless cell phone in her arms. The speakerphone is on and I can hear Magnus’s voice over the airwaves. One of the last messages he’d left her yesterday, before any of this happened. It’s all she has, I guess.

  Hearing me, she sits up with a start, her face flushed with embarrassment as she clicks off the phone.

  “You okay?” I ask, sitting down beside her on the bed, reaching over to stroke her hair. She’s growing it super long these days. Probably to further differentiate herself from me. The thought makes me a little sad.

  “Not really,” she replies, staring at the blank wall in front of her. “This is pretty much the worst day of my life.”

  “I know it sucks,” I soothe. “But we can get through this. It’s only temporary.”

  “You don’t know that!” she cries angrily. “What if, after all this, Mom and Dad can’t convince the fairies to leave us alone? Then one of us will be stuck becoming a fairy queen!”

  “Yeah, but ... well, that’s not the end of the world, is it?” I ask. “I mean, there’s probably a lot of great perks that come with being a fairy queen. Think about it: riches beyond belief, magical powers, all the nectar you can drink, limitless glitter.” I pause, then giggle. “Not to mention a hot prince named Dew Drip ...”

  “Stop it!” Sunny cries, rolling over to face me. Her eyes are stormy and bloodshot from all the crying. “Don’t you get it? It’s not a joke! It’s my freaking life here!”

  I hold my hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. I just thought—”

  She scrambles up and starts pacing the distance between beds. “Sure, it’s not big deal to you. You’re already supernatural six ways from Sunday anyway. And you like it that way, for some unfathomable reason.”

  “Well, yeah.” I shrug. “Though I’d like it better if I had some kind of powers ...”

  She turns to me, staring me down, fury clear on her
face. “Well, I don’t. I don’t want to be a vampire. I don’t want to be a slayer. I certainly don’t want to be a fairy queen. I just want to be a human girl and I just want to be left alone.” She shakes her head. “I mean, what’s left, Rayne? Are we going to find out our long-lost cousin was a freaking leprechaun?”

  “Ooh, that’d be cool. Maybe he’d share his pot of gold with us. Or at least his Lucky Charms.”

  Sunny glares at me.

  “Come on, Sun,” I cajole. “You gotta look on the bright side. Glass half full and all that. I mean, what’s the worst that can happen? You become fairy queen?”

  “I will never become a fairy queen,” Sunny mutters. “I’ll kill myself first.”

  “Well, you’re already a drama queen.” I shake my head, rising from her bed, defeated. Obviously she’s in no mood to listen to reason. I head over to my own bed and plop down, staring up at the ceiling, annoyed as all hell. From across the room, I hear Sunny pressing keys on her phone, to listen to Magnus’s messages again—this time, sans speakerphone.

  What am I going to do? I know she won’t make good on her threat to kill herself, but at the same time, I feel terrible that she’s so upset. She’s my twin. And as the oldest by seven minutes, I’m supposed to be the one taking care of her. And yet I know, at the end of the day, if the fairies want her as their queen, there’s very little I can do about it.

  I crawl into bed and pull the covers over my head, hugging a pillow to my chest, feeling the tears spring to my eyes. I’ve been working overtime all day to be strong and optimistic for my sister’s sake, but now, alone in bed, reality is starting to sink in big time. If only Jareth were here; he’d know what to do. And even if he didn’t, he’d still take me into his arms and infuse me with the strength to face whatever was coming our way. With him, I feel invincible. Now I just feel kind of defeated.

  Part of me hates admitting this. After all, a kick-ass chick like me shouldn’t be all weepy over a guy. I’m not like my sister. But at the same time, Jareth and I are such a good team. I feel like half of me is missing without him by my side. When did I get all codependent girl? Ugh.

  I wish I wasn’t so messed up when it comes to relationships. I usually blame my dad, but now even that excuse has gone all cloudy on me. Did he really leave to protect us? Did he really miss my last birthday to save my life? Was the birth of Stormy really not that big a deal? I’ve been furious at him for so long it’s hard to accept the fact that I may have misjudged him. If we ever get out of this, we’re so going to have to spend some time together to figure things out.

  I hope he and Mom are okay in fairyland. As conflicted as my feelings are for my dad, I’d clearly die if anything happened to Mom. My best friend. The one who loves me unconditionally no matter how screwed up I am. I can’t lose her. Not to the fairies, not to anyone.

  I hear a muffled noise and peek out from under the covers. Sunny’s tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable in the rickety twin bed. Poor girl. I feel bad for grumping at her a few minutes ago. She has every right to express her unhappiness, and it’s probably a lot healthier than stuffing it deep down inside like I tend to do. But, at the same time, I hate seeing her appear so vulnerable. So scared. If only there was a way to ensure I became the fairy queen and not her. Not that I want that, per se—hell, I look freaking awful in pink—but I’d do it in a heartbeat if it meant allowing her to forever live in the human world as she so deeply desires.

  I lift my arm in the air and study my elbow. Could it really be as easy as a quick kiss, as Mom said? A simple kiss to save my sister’s life and ensure she never has to become something she doesn’t want to be? Tentatively, I lift my head, pressing my lips to the wrinkly elbow skin, my entire body buzzing in anticipation. Here goes nothing.

  7

  I wake up the next morning with the worst backache ever. For being a posh private school, Riverdale’s beds are lumpy as all hell. I glance over at Sunny, who’s still in bed with the covers pulled over her head, then at the clock, which reads ten to seven. Ugh. We’ve got ten minutes to get dressed and get to class—or incur the wrath of Headmistress Roberta.

  “Sunny, wake up!” I leap out of bed and cross the room to shake my sister. She moans in protest. “Get up and get ready.”

  “Five more minutes,” she pleads.

  “How about five more seconds? One, two ...”

  “Okay, okay!” My twin sits up, rubbing her bloodshot eyes. Has she been up all night crying? “Geez, you ever think of a career as an alarm clock? You’re totally overqualified in annoyingness.”

  “It’s for your own good, Sun,” I say, rummaging through my tiny dorm-room closet for something suitable to wear. “You don’t want that evil headmistress coming down on you. Or, you know, me, for that matter.” According to my schedule, which was dropped off by Lilli when she came by with lunch yesterday—grilled cheese sandwiches and a huge jug of strawberry Kool-Aid, all of which I ended up tossing in the trash since Sunny wouldn’t eat and I can’t. I’ve got combat training most of the day so I’m thinking sweats are probably more practical than my normal lacy black dresses.

  I have to forgo makeup, but I manage to get us both dressed and down to the field, where classes are held, with thirty seconds to spare. The morning air is crisp and cool and the other students are huddled around one another for warmth. I look around for our one friend, but Lilli’s nowhere to be found. Must be in a different class.

  A man in his forties, carrying a clipboard and sporting a porn mustache and muscle mass that would make Mr. Universe extremely jealous, walks over to us and looks down at his list. “Which one of you is Rayne?” he asks.

  I raise my hand.

  “Okay, great. You’re in my class. Sunshine?” He turns to my sister. “They’ve put you with the beginners. They meet inside the gym.” He points to one of the one-story outbuildings down at the end of the field. Sunny shoots me a worried glance—I know she doesn’t want to be separated from me—but I give her a comforting squeeze on the shoulder.

  “It’ll be okay,” I whisper in her ear. “You’ll be in with a bunch of twelve-year-olds. How bad could it be?”

  She nods, reaching over to hug me, holding on a second too long. Professor Pornstar clears his throat impatiently. Reluctantly, Sunny lets go and shuffles down the field at a snail’s pace. I let out a frustrated breath. I gotta figure out a way to get her to snap out of this funk or she’s going to get us both in serious trouble.

  “Well, well, if it isn’t Little Slayer.”

  Speaking of trouble. I whirl around, not surprised to see Corbin standing behind me, a smug smile on his face and his arms crossed over his chest. He’s forgone his red robe for today’s training and is wearing black sweatpants and a tight white T-shirt, which annoyingly accentuates his abs. I mean, yeah, the guy’s a total a-hole, but that doesn’t mean he’s not ripped. In fact, he looks just like freaking Jason Stackhouse on that True Blood show. If only he were just as dumb, too.

  “Well, well, if it isn’t Big Dick,” I mimic in my sweetest voice. “Are you in my class?”

  “I’m way above you in class,” he replies with a sneer. “But yes, I will be your partner today.”

  Wait, what? I try to mask my surprise. “Excuse me?”

  “Mr. Klaus assigned me to show you the ropes,” he explains. “So we’ll be sparring partners.” He grins. “In other words, you’re about to get your ass kicked, Little Slayer.”

  “By you and what army?”

  A few of his friends step up behind him, looking down at me with scornful expressions on their faces. Oh, right. That army.

  He laughs. “Actually, I don’t need an army to take you,” he assures me. “In case you didn’t know, I’m an Alpha here at Riverdale.”

  “Alpha?” There was that term again.

  “Alphas are the best of the best,” Leanna says haughtily. “First-tier slayers on the front lines, after they graduate Night School.”

  Night School? A vision of that
creepy building across from the admin office flashes into my brain. “Wait. You guys go to Night School?” I ask.

  “Um, well, not yet,” Corbin replies, looking a tad sheepish for the first time since I’ve met him. “But we will,” he adds. “Hopefully very soon. We’re just waiting for our official invitation.”

  Interesting. I open my mouth to ask more, but Professor Pornstar, aka Mr. Klaus, blows the whistle. Guess it’s time for fight club. I suck in a breath and turn to our teacher, who’s passing out wooden stakes from a red velvet bag.

  “Okay,” he says. “You guys know the drill. One of you is the slayer, the other the vamp. Slayers try to slay your opponent by touching the tip of your stake to your vampire’s chest. Don’t forget to dip them in red paint first, so we’ll be able to judge your accuracy. Vampires, try to bite your slayer. If you get neck contact first, you win. Get a red mark anywhere near your heart, that means you’re dead and need to leave the field.”

  Okay then. We’re playing vampire paintball. Or paint-stake, I guess.

  He looks around “Any questions?” he asks, throwing me a stake. “Now, on the count of three ...”

  I turn to Corbin, who, as it turns out, must be counting challenged. Before Mr. Klaus even gets to one, he grabs me, pinning my arms behind me, his hot lips searing my neck.

  “You’re dead!” he crows. His little lackeys cheer.

  “Wait a second!” I cry. “I wasn’t ready. Mr. Klaus didn’t even blow his whistle yet,” I protest, slapping at him to get him off of me. God, what an ass.

  “I’ve got news for you, chickie.” Corbin laughs, shoving me unceremoniously to the ground. I land on my knees and pain reverberates up my spine. Jerk. “In real life, vampires don’t wait for any whistle.” He pauses, then adds, “Guess they didn’t teach you that in home school.”

  He holds out a hand and I stupidly reach for it, assuming he’s trying to help me up. He laughs. “Your stake,” he clarifies.

  Oh. I can feel my face burning as I hand him the weapon and scramble to my feet unaided. I watch him dip his stake in the bucket of paint, not feeling all that great about having my new mortal enemy casually wielding in his hand the one thing that can kill me.