Vampires Drink Tomato Juice

by K. M. Shea

  “It’s good, though, to hear that you are able to resist him,” Asahi said, smiling at me. “If you can, maybe Kadri can as well.”

  “I’m sure she can, Asahi,” I said, internally deciding if this girl chose the older brother over the younger, I would scalp her myself. “I have an idea. Why don’t you have her come to our classes and then ask Aysel to drop by,” I suggested.

  Asahi brightened. Like, literally. He went from glittering to absolutely radiant. “That’s a great idea!” he said. “I wanted to invite Kadri to our class, but she is far more advanced than our study sessions,” he said before drooping. “…So why would she agree to come when my learning level is much lower than hers?” he muttered.

  “How about a fieldtrip this Friday?” I proposed before nearly strangling myself. I couldn’t believe I just said that.

  Asahi straightened up. “A fieldtrip is a great idea! We could go somewhere in human society for observation or a taste of your culture!” he said, rapidly warming to the idea.

  “Not the whole class though!” I quickly amended. “Just a small selection! No more than…twelve,” I said, wondering if I could keep track of twelve human-hyper magical beings. Hmm…Perhaps Frey would be willing to come with?

  “Great!” Asahi chirped. “I’m sure Kadri would love to come. And Aysel would, too.”

  That’s right. The Prick would be coming with us. “Umm, are you sure your brother would want to hang out with us?” I nervously asked.

  “Oh, of course! He loves you guys.”

  I knew Asahi was blissfully innocent, but was he really under the impression that Aysel actually liked anyone?

  Madeline suddenly appeared at my side like a dark, murderous shadow. “Who loves whom?” she asked in a deep voice.

  “No one. Aysel hates everyone!” I croaked.

  “We’re going on a fieldtrip again!” Asahi said.

  “Great! Where?” Madeline asked with a smile.

  “Um…the Chicago Field Museum,” I decided, trying to pick a public place where I wouldn’t see anyone I knew. After all, knowing Madeline, she was going to carry on like one of the patients from the Cuckoo Ward.

  “Marvelous! Who’s coming?”

  “Yes, we should probably work out whom to invite ahead of time. It will be like an advanced-placement study course!” Asahi smiled.

  “Yeah, of course,” I said before shaking my pen at the High Elf. “Just make sure Kadri and Aysel can both come!” I said. There was no way I was going to submit myself to this torture if they weren’t going to show.

  “Of course.” Aysel promised.

  “Then, it’s set! We’re going on a fieldtrip!” Madeline squealed. “I’m going to see my first human museum!”

  On Tuesday, I arrived at my classroom before anyone else, Asahi included. This was a rare occasion. I had never seen the room empty before! So, I strolled up to my wretched Windows ME computer—Aysel still hadn’t switched it back—and flicked it on.

  Seconds later, the classroom door opened. “Hey, I was wondering where everyone—,” I said as I turned around before abruptly cutting myself off. “Nick!” He was standing in the doorway in one of his many expensive suits, a cheerful smile on his mouth. I beamed back, truly delighted to see the well-dressed/well-groomed cyclops whom I fondly thought of as the first cyclops in my Cyclops Union.

  “Morgan,” he smiled as I trotted up to him. “I am glad that you are doing as well as Sandra boasted you were. You certainly are a globe shaker,” he teased, motioning at my classroom.

  “Huh?” I cluelessly asked, scratching the base of my neck.

  “Teaching a class, teaching Asahi no less,” Nick said, shaking his head. (I vaguely wondered if Asahi and his family were royalty or something. It was always weird how everyone seemed to fawn over the fact that I was his teacher.) “But, I digress.”

  “How’s the eyewear research going?” I asked, folding my arms across my stomach.

  Nick grinned. “I’m wearing one of the prototype contacts,” he said. “All cyclopes now have access to contacts. The eyeglasses are being prepped for full production.”

  “So, the research has been pretty quick,” I observed.

  “Absolutely. And with our funding, the ophthalmological research branch has also found a cure to the dryad eye fungus.”

  “That’s great!”

  “Yes.”

  I smiled in the somewhat awkward silence before asking, “So, what brings you to the MBRC today? Are you cyclopes being discriminated against in other ways now?” I said, already feeling the fires of justice starting to burn in me at the thought.

  “No, not at all,” Nick assured me. “I’m actually here to call on you. We were all very surprised, you know, when we arrived at the information desk to ask for you the day after our meeting and were informed that you had your memory erased.”

  “Oh. Yeah. Sandy mentioned that,” I said, nervously scratching at my elbow.

  “We were very hurt! How could you not tell us?” Nick tisked, sounding like a disappointed parent.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t really think it would matter,” I said.

  “Morgan,” Nick firmly said. “How could it not? You have done so much for us. You are the first person to come alongside us and try to help, not to mention the kindness and patience you displayed, most of all to me, with our wretched paperwork. We cyclopes in Chicago care very much for you!”

  “Aww,” I muttered, blushing deep red before forcing my eyes to the ground, choosing to stare at Nick’s unblemished dress shoes.

  “We would have done everything in our power to keep you from being unwillingly hypnotized,” Nick lectured. I wonder who told him I was unwilling. “In fact, if you ever need anything again, do not hesitate to call any of us,” Nick said, opening his expensive suit coat to remove a business card from an inner pocket. “Okay?” he asked, holding out the card.

  “Okay,” I agreed, raising my eyes to smile at Nick again. “Thanks, Nick. It means a lot to me,” I admitted, taking the card.

  “You are very welcome, Morgan. But, you deserve it. I don’t think my kind and I will ever be able to repay what you’ve done for us,” Nick said before checking his wrist watch. “I apologize, but I must go.”

  “Business meeting?”

  “No. In the spirit of the kindness you have shown us, Sandra and I have decided to become activists for Shoe Elves. You know, to pass on your legacy,” Nick said.

  “Shoe Elves?” I double checked.

  “Yes, the ones that build shoes for cobblers. Did you know they don’t have healthcare or workers’ comp? Horribly unorganized, that lot,” Nick said, shaking his head before giving me another pleasant smile. “Take care, Morgan. Next time you’re in trouble, you’ll let us know?” he sternly asked.

  I laughed. “I will. Thanks, Nick. Good luck with the Shoe Elves!”

  “I will do my best. If Sandra and I have problems, may we call on you for advice?”

  “It would be my honor,” I truthfully said. “Although I’m not sure I could be much of a help.” After all, what could a teenage girl tell those two business gurus?

  Nick rolled his eye. “Take care, Morgan.”

  “You, too, Nick!”

  I was more than mildly worried when Asahi didn’t show for class. I decided to go through with the lesson, mostly because by the time I realized he wasn’t coming, I had a full room of expectant students. I figured I would go look for him or have Madeline track him down for me after I released everyone.

  It turned out I didn’t have to do anything.

  I let class out and poked my head outside the door as the last of my students cleared the room.

  Asahi was in the hallway, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet—making his earrings jingle. Aysel stood there with him, looking like an accurately carved statue.

  I froze, stuck halfway between relief that Asahi was there and horror that he brought Aysel with.

  “Morgan!” Asahi waved before popping over t
o me. “I’m here for my lesson. Sorry I wasn’t in class, but Aysel asked if he could come with me, and he wasn’t free until a few minutes ago,” Asahi explained, entering the room before he made his way to his usual seat.

  Aysel shadowed him inside the room, moving with elegance that males shouldn’t possess. He stopped in front of me.

  “Hello, Aysel,” I greeted, gulping as I hoped that this time I would be able to better handle myself rather than spewing every little thing I thought.

  “Asahi says you wish to go on another fieldtrip. Why?” Aysel said, ignoring my greeting as he narrowed his moon eyes at me.

  Immediately, in spite of my intentions, I started to blurt out, “Because Asahi wants to bring—,” the words froze in my mouth when I caught Asahi’s gaze.

  His gold eyes were wide, and he violently shook his head as his normally tan skin grew white.

  “Because,” I repeated before choking. It was as if the words were triggering my gag reflex, demanding to get out of my throat. I gripped my throat with my hands and gurgled. “Because.”

  Aysel’s expression grew pinched, his expression as hard as ice.

  I coughed and spat, “There’s more than one reason for it. Madeline has been begging to go see a human museum for a while—not like that would truly motivate me but hey, it’s a reason. Plus, the magical beings who are coming with will find the trip educational on a variety of levels. Your brother has a particular reason for wanting the fieldtrip, too, but you should ask him rather than bullying me into telling you,” I said before clamping my hands over my mouth.

  “I don’t think you’re telling the whole truth,” Aysel sneered.

  “And I don’t care what you think,” I said, the words barely muffled behind my hand. (I could have died on the spot.)

  Aysel drew back, his forehead smoothing as he studied me. He looked at me the same way my biology teacher peers at the innards of a dissected frog.

  “You just went on an ‘educational’ fieldtrip. Why take another one so soon?” Aysel asked.

  Rather than answer his question, I removed my hands from my mouth and scoffed. “I thought you said I was his tutor? Why won’t you let me tutor him my way? Unless you happen to know humans better than I do? I want to expose Asahi to human society. I can’t do much with your crappy technology, so of course the easiest way is to take him outside. I think he and my other advanced students are more than mature enough to handle being out in human society. Do you doubt him?”

  “Of course not,” Aysel bristled.

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  Aysel tightly pressed his lips together and went mute.

  I arched an eyebrow at him, and Aysel finally spat out. “I will be attending with him. If one thing goes wrong, if one single, insignificant thing goes wrong, there will be hell to pay,” he vowed before practically stabbing me with a packet of papers and a pen. “Sign this,” he barked.

  “What is it?” I asked, taking the offered items.

  “It’s a fieldtrip release form since you’re going off campus. Sign it,” Aysel hissed.

  I scribbled my signature on the dotted line mostly out of fear. Aysel swiped the papers up and swept out of the room without so much as a farewell.

  I watched him go with a gaping mouth.

  “Wow,” Madeline said. “He sure is crabby.”

  “The goblin imports contract has been weighing on his mind,” Asahi sighed.

  “Oh,” Madeline said, nodding. “That’s really been dragging on hasn’t it? Well, I guess his behavior is partially excusable. Goblins are notoriously difficult to negotiate with.”

  “…What?” I asked.

  “Nothing. You should probably start Asahi’s lesson,” Madeline said with a flicking motion.

  “You just want to take another nap,” I said.

  “Oh-ho-ho! You know me so well!” Madeline laughed.

  On Wednesday, I pretty much had a meltdown because of stupid Windows ME.

  “I hate this computer!” I snarled.

  “Wow, Morgan, you are such a good example to your students,” Frey mocked, splayed out in a chair. (He said it was more fun to attend my class than tag along with Dave.)

  “This thing! This stupid thing just erased everything on my jump drive!” I squeaked.

  “You lost your class notes for the day?” Frey asked.

  “I lost my American Government ESSAY! It was five pages long!” I moaned.

  Frey flinched in sympathy and actually got up to join me as I peered at the screen. “Did you tell it to?”

  “WHY WOULD I TELL IT TO DELETE MY ESSAY?”

  “I don’t know! But computers don’t do things unless you tell them to.”

  “You know, for being born in human society, you’re pretty computer stupid,” I snorted. “Computers are worse than cars when it comes to being fussy! And I’m stuck with one from the turn of the millennium!”

  “Hey, what’s the problem?” Perseus asked, appearing behind my shoulder like a cloud of doom.

  “I’m using deficient technology, that’s the problem,” I muttered, on the verge of tears.

  “Whoa, Windows ME? Talk about last-century technology,” Perseus said.

  Frey and I whipped around to stare at the teenage centaur. “You understand the concept of technology?”

  “Totally! I have a MacBook, an iphone, an ipad—,”

  “Holy cow, he has money,” I muttered.

  “Yeah. Loads of it,” Frey agreed.

  “An ipod. I had to get a computer with Windows on it because of all my computer games, but at least it is state of the art.”

  I uttered a little, pathetic sigh. “I don’t understand how you can be so computer literate but everyone else in this building thinks I’m crazy when I talk about Windows 8.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll hook you up,” Perseus promised.

  I managed a weak smile for him but was completely distracted when Frey said, “Morgan, I got your files back!”

  “Really? Where?”

  “Here we go! Quick, unplug the jump drive! I bet this crappy computer has a virus!”

  “Yes! You’re the best Frey!’

  “I know.”

  With that, I forgot Perseus’ promise of better technology.

  …until the next day anyway.

  I was going over my list of students attending the fieldtrip Thursday morning while Fran sorted through her locker.

  There was an assortment of folded notes crammed into her locker, and she ruthlessly ripped every single one and tossed them in the trash without reading them.

  “Fran! What’s with the notes? And why aren’t you reading them? One of them might be from me,” I said as I set my list aside.

  “They aren’t from you. You text me unless we’re in class together.”

  “That’s true. But still! Why do you throw them out without reading them?” I asked.

  “Because they’re filled with useless drabble!” Fran savagely said, slamming a book deep into her locker.

  I slowly crouched down next to Fran and put a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?” I quietly asked.

  I could feel Fran shaking beneath my hand. “Yeah,” she said, her voice watery.

  Rather than berate her for obviously lying, I nodded. “And you can tell me anything.”

  “I know,” she said, her voice horribly small. Whatever it was that was shrinking Fran—the most boisterous, vibrant girl I know—it had to be heart wrenching.

  “And pestering you about it isn’t going to help, is it?” I asked.

  “Nope.”

  I sighed and sat back on my heels, trying to imagine what bit of relief I could pass on. “I have to go to work after school, but do you want to go get some ice cream together later tonight? Isn’t Dairy Queen open late?”

  “Just the two of us?”

  “Yep.”

  “That sounds nice,” Fran wistfully sighed.

  “Great. We’ll do it then. I’ll text you on the train rid
e home.”

  “Okay. Thanks, Morgan.”

  “Hey, you’re my best friend! It’s what we do.”

  When I walked into my tutoring classroom later that day, I actually backed out and double checked I had opened the right door.

  Sitting on the desk where that stupid Windows ME computer used to be was a flat screen monitor, speakers, a desktop tower that was glowing red, a laser mouse, and a wireless keyboard.

  I almost fell to my knees at the beautiful sight.

  “Hey, Morgan!” Perseus chirped, tossing his head. (His hair still didn’t move.) He was standing beneath a newly installed projector, holding a remote. “I got you set up. Some of my friends helped me,” he said, motioning to the three centaurs, two boys and a girl, who were camped out behind him.

  All three were dressed similarly to Perseus, wearing Hot Topic clothes with severely gelled hair and branded butt cheeks. The girl was the most remarkable looking with a blue roan horse body and black hair that had strips of purple dyed into it. Her purple lipstick sadly clashed horribly with her fair skin tone. One of the centaur boys accompanying Perseus had a black horse body. The other was buckskin, which means his horsy legs had black socks on them; his tail and hair was black, but the horse fur on his body was a golden tan color, making him look pretty ridiculous because of his Hot Topic clothes.

  “Perseus…thank you!” I uttered. I am not kidding, I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. I hurried over to the computer and touched the mouse with great reverence. “Is this really it?” I asked, staring at the screen.

  “Yep, Windows 8. I wanted to get you a Mac, but Hercules insisted on a PC,” Perseus said, rolling his single visible eye.

  Behind him, the black-colored centaur snorted.

  “Thank you guys, really, thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!” I said, clasping my hands in front of my chest. “The frustration, having to soothe Asahi—this means it’s all over,” I groaned.

  “See, told you she would appreciate it,” Perseus smugly told his friends.

  “Aw, it even has Word and Power Point on it,” I said as I navigated my way through the programs list.

  Perseus clopped down the last few steps before moving to stand next to me, his horsey tail swishing. “We’ve got it connected to the projector, too,” he said, pressing a button on the remote. Behind me, the wall lit up with a perfect illustration of my beautiful computer screen. “So you can show pictures ‘n stuff.”