Vampire Love Story

by H. T. Night

  “All right everyone, straighten up those lines and please come in quietly,” she said very pleasantly. “As you walk into the classroom, you’ll notice that all your names are on specific desks. Please find the desk with your name and sit down.”

  This was actually fun. As I looked for my name, I began to see a trend in how the names were set out. They were in alphabetical order by last name. That could only mean one thing. I would be sitting next to my sister.

  I found my desk and sat down.

  I looked to see if there was a desk with Sarah Davis’ name on it. When everyone settled, I noticed there were two desks that no one was sitting in. One of the desks had “Sarah Davis” on it. Well, at least the teacher thought Sarah was in the class. I was relieved.

  Mrs. Phyllis walked to the front of the class. She smiled and asked, “How are you today? To start with, my name is Mrs. Phyllis.” She then wrote her name on the chalkboard.

  I looked over at my sister. She wrote the teacher’s name down on a piece of paper. I thought that was a bit much, as if she would not have the whole year to memorize it. My sister always tried very hard to get good grades. I, on the other hand, had never tried much at all. The crazy thing was that I always got straight A’s. Sometimes, I might get an A- in something lame like penmanship or music. My sister always seemed to get B’s and C’s. We were not that competitive about grades. She was younger than I was and I gave her a break.

  Mrs. Phyllis talked for what seemed like an eternity. I looked over at Eric and noticed he was already falling asleep. It was no secret that Eric was not a good student. He often left class to get help in the resource room. I had never teased him about it. That was not my style.

  I continued listening to Mrs. Phyllis explain the rules and codes. When I heard the phrase “extra-curricular activities”, my ears perked up. I began to listen more intently.

  Chapter Three

  I straightened up in my seat. I was definitely interested in any activities that were outside the walls of the school.

  “We’re going to have a camp over Thanksgiving weekend for our students who we feel will represent our school to the highest potential. They are going to compete with other schools in Math, Science, and History. We’re going to select the top students of each subject in both sixth grade classes.”

  Suddenly, every single hand in the class went up. I didn’t raise my hand. I figured either I would be selected or I wouldn’t. I didn’t really like scholastic competition. The only competition I enjoyed was sports.

  This real snobby girl, named Lucy Johnson, kept waving her hand. Mrs. Phyllis finally asked her to speak.

  “When will we know who is selected?” Lucy asked, gleaming as if her smile would help her be a candidate. Lucy was real smart. The problem with Lucy was she knew she was smart and constantly reminded everyone.

  “The six will be chosen in the beginning of November,” Mrs. Phyllis answered. “We’re also going to have other events, such as after school sports for boys and girls.”

  Eric’s eyes gleamed.

  “That’s not all. The sixth grade will be doing a production of The Wizard of Oz,” she said proudly. “I personally will be directing it.”

  “The Wizard of Oz,” I thought, how interesting. I never thought too much about acting, but if Mrs. Phyllis was directing it, I might just try it.

  Again, everyone raised their hands and asked questions. When the teacher called on Eric, I listened closely. He had the only question I was interested in. “What other sports besides football will the boys be playing?” he asked.

  “The boys will be playing football, basketball, and baseball. The girls, I think, will be playing kickball, volleyball, and softball.”

  There was something about Mrs. Phyllis. When she spoke, it was as if she sang the words out of her mouth. Her voice was very soothing. I think it was almost too soothing, because my eyes were getting heavy. I decided to close them for a second, but I must have closed them longer than I thought. All of a sudden, I heard a real deep voice come from the back of the room that startled me. I straightened up and turned around quickly, almost as if someone had pinched me.

  Everyone in the class instantly got real quiet.

  It was Mr. Jones, the principal. He was a tall, muscular man in his forties who was to say the least, extremely intimidating. He had a real thick mustache that did not look real, like something you would buy at Halloween.

  “Yes, Mr. Jones, for what do we have this honor?” Mrs. Phyllis asked, very professional-like.

  “I need to speak to Cody Greer,” he said very sternly.

  Cody Greer? That was me! What could I have possibly done? It was the first day of school. It was the first hour of school. Maybe he found out about my fight with Tommy Madkins. Maybe he was transferring me to Mr. O’Neil’s class. I didn’t know. This was extremely weird. I got up slow and stood by my desk. My sister was grinning the way sisters do when they know you are in trouble. But, I couldn’t be in trouble. I didn’t do anything wrong at school. I walked over to him and followed him outside. He shut the door behind us.

  “Son,” he said, “do you know how long I’ve been teaching?”

  “No,” I said, almost petrified.

  “Twenty one years. I have been a principal for ten of them. In all my years of teaching...”

  Uh oh, here it comes, I thought. He knew about the fight. I was dead. He was going to suspend me.

  “...From Kindergarten to now, you have never missed a day of school. You are on your way to a perfect attendance here at Wenchester Elementary School. Are you aware of that son?”

  “Yes sir, I am.” Was that all he wanted? He just wanted to congratulate me?

  He continued, “Every year we choose a sixth grader to do the attendance for the entire school. This year we have chosen you. Every morning you need to first report to your teacher, and then go to all the classes and get their attendance sheets for the day. When you are finished, just bring all the attendance sheets to the office. The way I figure it, if you never miss a day of school then you’re the one for the job.”

  I couldn’t believe it. That was all he wanted to say to me. I never thought it was much of a big deal to attend school every day. However, never missing a day got me a lot of attention from teachers. I had never dreamed that the principal would pay me a personal visit though. I felt special.

  Mr. Jones looked pretty scary before he talked to me. Apparently principals tried to do that. It was probably a power thing. If I could scare kids all day long, I would too. To be completely honest, I was relieved and disappointed at the same time. I was hoping that maybe he was transferring me to Mr. O’Neil’s class. Sometimes the school administration did that sort of thing on the first day of school.

  “So what do you think? Would you like to do this for us?” Mr. Jones asked boldly.

  “Sure. It could be fun,” I said and thanked him.

  “I’d like for you to start right now, if that’s okay with you. You need to just go to every classroom and pick up their attendance sheet. It’s that simple. I’ll go back inside your classroom and tell Mrs. Phyllis what I have you doing.”

  I went to every class and picked up their attendance sheets. I thought it was pretty cool walking around outside. The sun was shining and it was breezy.

  It was weird going to Mr. O’Neil’s classroom though. The kids all had their noses in books and were real quiet. No one turned around. Blayne and Timmy didn’t even know I was in the room. Mr. O’Neil seemed like he might be extremely strict. He was just the opposite of Mrs. Phyllis.

  It took me about half an hour to do the job. When I finished getting all the sheets, I headed to the attendance office. As I walked up to the building, I felt that the building looked smaller. Honestly! I realized that everything looked smaller now than when I was younger. Back then everything seemed to be huge. Getting older was strange.

  When I walked up to the attendance office and opened the door, I thought I was going to have a heart atta
ck. There she was just sitting there. Sarah Davis was sitting at a table with her father. Our eyes met. She seemed to recognize me. I completely forgot where I was, or why I was even in the office as I gazed into her eyes.

  Why wasn’t she in class? Why was she so late? That wasn’t important. All that mattered was that she was sitting in the attendance office.

  “Did you go to every single class, dear?” the secretary asked.

  “Huh?” I said, coming back to reality.

  “Did you go to every classroom?” she repeated.

  “Oh yes. I sure did, ma’am.”

  “Great, if you can hand me all the sheets, you can show Sarah where her class is. She is also in Mrs. Phyllis’s classroom.”

  She didn’t have to tell me that. I knew that better than anyone in the entire school.

  “Sure,” I said, trying not to sound too excited. But I was thrilled. I couldn’t believe it. Here I was standing right in front of the girl that I had thought about all summer long.

  I studied her features while her dad finished signing some papers. To me, she was perfect. She had a perfectly shaped head. She looked at me and smiled. Her eyes were greener than what I remembered. I smiled back. This was crazy. I didn’t even know this girl. Why did I like her so much?

  She stood and kissed her dad on the cheek, then walked over toward me.

  “Are you ready to go?” I said.

  “Yes, I am,” she said softly.

  Wow, we did it. We spoke to each other. Her voice was incredible. Very sweet, it sounded just like Mrs. Phyllis’ voice.

  “Why was your dad filling out papers?” I asked. I totally did not know what to say, but this seemed like a good place to start.

  “We moved. So he needed to change our address on papers and stuff,” she said, giving me a smile that about made me faint on the spot.

  “Where did you move to?” I asked, trying to push the conversation forward.

  “Closer to the school,” she said matter-of-factly.

  “Where exactly do you live?” I hope I didn’t sound too pushy.

  “In the housing track right in front of the school,” she said, laughing.

  I laughed, too. I had no idea what we were laughing about, but it seemed to make things easier. Before I knew it, we were right in front of the classroom. I didn’t want to go in. I wanted to stay out in the hall and talk to her forever.

  “This is it,” I said as I opened the door for her. She walked in and I followed. I went to my seat and she went to talk to Mrs. Phyllis.

  “Where did you go?” my sister asked quietly.

  “I’ll tell you later,” I whispered.

  My mind was still on Sarah. She said she lived in the housing track in front of the school. I lived in the same housing track. Things could not get better. I wondered how close she lived to me. I watched her walk toward her marked desk and sit down. I was at a perfect angle to see her profile. With that view, the rest of the day seemed to go by pretty fast.

  When school let out, I kept an eye out for Sarah so I could watch where she went, but her dad came and picked her up. Oh well, it was just the first day of school.

  Timmy and Blayne came over to my house that evening and we played video games. They kept on complaining about already having homework.

  All I could do was laugh at them. One day ago, I was down in the dumps and these two were on top of the world. How quickly things changed.

  Maybe this school year wasn’t going to be bad after all. I decided that having Mrs. Phyllis as a teacher and having Sarah in my class was going to make it a great year.

  Also available on Amazon Kindle:

  GETTING YOURS!

  (a screenplay)

  by

  H.T. NIGHT

  (read on for a sample)

  A story told in the tradition of American Pie and Something About Mary.

  FADE IN:

  INT. PICK-UP TRUCK – NIGHT

  CHAD WALKER, 20, clean-cut and all-American, is sitting alone in his beat-up 1982 Ford Courier truck, staring at a wilted, pitiful YELLOW ROSE. Chad looks to his right and shakes his head; sitting in the passenger seat is a giant stuffed rabbit.

  EXT. PETE’S BISTRO PARKING LOT – NIGHT

  Chad gets out of his truck and puts the yellow rose in his back pocket. He walks up to an all-night diner called Pete’s Bistro.

  INT. PETE’S BISTRO – NIGHTChad walks over to his brother BRUCE, who’s sitting at a booth. Bruce, 23, is a slightly older version of Chad.

  BRUCE So what’s going on? You look like shit.

  CHAD Thanks man, I appreciate it. I need to talk.

  BRUCE What’s up?

  An older, career waitress walks up.

  WAITRESS

  Boys ready to order?

  CHAD I’ll just have a Coke.

  BRUCE Basket of wings and a large shake.

  Waitress leaves.

  BRUCE (CONT’D)

  Not hungry?

  CHAD I’m not in the mood to eat.

  BRUCE Oh, this should be good.

  Chad pulls out a yellow rose from his back pocket, places it on the table.

  BRUCE (CONT’D)

  (referring to the yellow rose)

  You shouldn’t have.

  CHAD It’s not for you.

  BRUCE You’re walking around with yellow roses in your pocket? You haven’t turned Nancy on me, have you?

  CHAD Not quite.

  BRUCE What’s the deal with the rose?

  CHAD That’s why I’m here.

  BRUCE You want to discuss floral arrangements?

  CHAD I need your advice about a girl.

  Bruce sits up proudly.

  BRUCE

  Alright. Give it to me. But, make it quick. I’m getting a rub and tug in a half hour.

  CHAD Seriously? I’m sure Mings House of Massage will be there tomorrow.

  BRUCE Fine, let’s hear your problem.

  CHAD Okay, I’ve been rehearsing this play over at the college.

  BRUCE Another play? I thought you were through with that?

  CHAD Eric wrote another script and asked me to be in it.

  BRUCE You trust that asshole after the last one?

  CHAD What was wrong with the last one?

  BRUCE He had you play a Gay Nazi.

  CHAD It wasn’t that bad.

  BRUCE That falls in love with an 85 year old transvestite?

  CHAD It wasn’t your typical love story.

  BRUCE You made out with an old man!

  CHAD It was in the script.

  BRUCE You’re supposed best friend wrote a script that had you gumming an 85 year drag queen for five minutes.

  CHAD It wasn’t five minutes.

  BRUCE It felt like five years.

  (a beat)

  You know mom still cries out in her sleep.

  CHAD I told her not to show up.

  BRUCE She brought her church group....

  CHAD I told her to stay at home.

  ERIC ...and her bridge club.

  CHAD I told her that there might be questionable things in the play.

  BRUCE Questionable? You DRY HUMPED an old man in front of Sister Margaret.

  EXT. THEATER AUDITORIUM – FLASHBACK – NIGHT

  CUT TO:

  Quick cut to Chad’s mother, Sister Margaret, her bridge club, and a group of nuns in an audience looking on in horror.

  CUT TO:

  Chad, on stage wearing a World War 2 Nazi uniform, dry humping an 85 year old Transvestite, wearing a ball gag, DOGGY STYLE.

  INT. PETE’S BISTRO – PRESENT – NIGHT

  BRUCE

  Mom wasn’t the only one who had nightmares.

  CHAD May I continue?

  BRUCE Is this one normal?

  CHAD I wouldn’t say that.

  BRUCE What does Eric have you doing?

  CHAD I play a sex-addicted ventriloquist who falls in love with his dummy rabbit.

  BRUCE Now, you’re just messing with me, right?

 
CHAD Nope.

  BRUCE Why do you do it man? (a beat) Are there any love scenes with the rabbit?

  CHAD Just one.

  BRUCE They are going to have to take mom out on a stretcher.

  CHAD She’s not coming!

  BRUCE She’ll get excommunicated.

  CHAD (continuing)

  Okay...there is this really hot woman in the play.

  BRUCE What’s the problem?

  CHAD She is a bit older.

  BRUCE (skeptical)

  How much older?

  CHAD She plays my mom in the show.

  BRUCE Your mom? What is she? Fifty?

  CHAD She’s thirty-four.

  BRUCE So she had you when she was fifteen?

  Nice.

  CHAD Her character is forty-eight.

  BRUCE So she looks old?

  CHAD She’s hotter than any of those two a.m. skanks you meet at the club.