by ID Johnson
The weight of what he was saying sank into my chest like a heavy burden. It was as if I was trying to tread water with lead tied to my ankles. “You’re saying only Cadence can destroy Jack?”
“Essentially, yes.”
How could she do that? I couldn’t imagine my sister standing across from this creature that looked and sounded just like the man she used to love and being forced to destroy him. “How can she…?”
“Not easily. So…”
“Why can’t someone else do it?” I asked, hearing panic in my own voice, and I wasn’t even the one with the tribulation. “Why can’t you do it?”
“It’s complicated.” I realized then he wasn’t going to say more about it, and I may as well let it go. It was no wonder that Cadence wanted to leave Kansas City. I wouldn’t blame her for wanting to give the whole thing up and run away, but then, she likely couldn’t unsee what she’d seen.
“I need to go,” Elliott said. “We’re getting ready to meet before we go on a hunt.”
“For Jack?” I asked, prying again. I couldn’t help it.
“No, this one is local. Hopefully, Jack will head back this way soon.”
I wasn’t sure why that would be a good thing. Chills ran down my spine.
He must’ve realized that. “Don’t worry, Cass. You’re safe. Jack isn’t getting anywhere close to you; neither are his friends. As long as you’re in Shenandoah, you’re safe. Our people will protect you. Just stay put, lil girl.”
As if I had anywhere to go. “Okay,” I replied, believing him. “I never go anywhere anyway.”
He laughed, and I assumed he was trying to make light of my domestic captivity. “Try not to worry about any of it, Cass. Your sister is a big girl. She knows what she’s doing. We’ll help her through it.”
“All right. But… when it’s over, will you tell me how it goes down, please? I mean, Jack was my friend, too, like a brother.”
It took him a long time to agree, but he finally did. “Sure,” he replied. “Why don’t you go do some homework or something?”
“I’m done!” I exclaimed, making him chuckle. “Be safe tonight, though.”
“Always am,” he assured me.
I was just about to hang up when another question popped into my head. “Elliott,” I said, hoping he’d answer me. “What are their names?”
“Whose names?” he asked, and even though he didn’t sound annoyed, he sounded tired.
“The two vampires Jack’s with. What are their names?”
“Why do you want to know?” he asked.
“I don’t know….”
“You’re definitely not going to find anything online about them, lil girl. Christian keeps that stuff scrubbed.”
“No, I know,” I assured him. “It’s not that. I just want to put a name with the monsters, that’s all.”
He sighed loudly. “Their names are Giovani and Zabrina,” he said. “Now, have a good night, Cass, and I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
“Okay. Thanks,” I said, and he hung up before I could say more. “Giovani and Zabrina?” I repeated out loud. Once again, I had chills, though I wasn’t sure why. Their names didn’t sound particularly menacing. Neither did Holland. She just sounded like a country. I supposed Jack wasn’t exactly the kind of name you’d give a monster either. Which led me to realize all of these vampires had once been people, just like me. They might not sound too scary, but then, if I was ever transformed into a vampire, would people be afraid of me? The idea made me laugh. “Cassidy, the vampire,” I said in my most sinister Transylvanian accent. No way in the world would I ever make a good vampire. I was glad I didn’t have anywhere outside of Shenandoah to be so I wouldn’t have to risk it anyway. Although, if the time ever came that I did need to face these monsters, I was sure I’d find a way to be ready. If Cadence could do it, after all, so could I.
Chapter 13
The next couple of weeks flew by, and before I knew it, we were several basketball games into the season, and not only was the homecoming dance less than a month away, Valentine’s Day was just around the corner. Lucy and I had found a way to get Emma to “hypothetically” join in our conversation, and while all three of us were now having weird dreams, I was pretty sure it was due to the fact that we kept talking about monsters and not because of any actual bloodsuckers infiltrating our thoughts, though I couldn’t one hundred percent rule that out.
On game days, we wore our uniforms to school, and the boys on the basketball team all wore matching shirts. I was standing at my locker thinking about whether or not Liam would notice I’d curled the ends of my hair when I heard what sounded like a cheer coming from down the hallway. Puzzled, I looked around and caught a few other narrowed eyes before I grabbed my books and headed in that direction.
I wasn’t quite prepared for what I saw. Standing outside of Mrs. Neely’s classroom, Elliott was doing some sort of dance (if you want to call it that) while playing our school fight song on his phone. As each kid passed him in the hallway, he stopped long enough to give them a high five or fist bump, and then continued with his Pee Wee Herman-esque routine. The kids were cheering him on, and something told me even if the principal came by, he wouldn’t mind at all, even if it was a total disruption.
Glad that meant Mrs. Neely was out for the day, and I’d get to start my Thursday off with a fun teacher, I took my place amongst the other “cheerleaders,” though most of the others weren’t dressed for the occasion, and cheered him on. When the song was over, he clicked a few buttons on his phone and said, “All right, folks! Time to get to class!” His adoring fans stopped for one more acknowledgement each and then headed either into history class or on down the hallway.
“Cassidy!” He shouted, as if he’d just noticed me. “How goes it?”
With a big sappy grin on my face, I said, “Okay. What was that?”
“Well, I just figured, it’s not fair that the varsity team gets a pep rally every time they have a home game, and the JV team doesn’t get squat. So… I put on my own pep rally.”
“I see,” I replied, hugging my books to my chest as I walked around him, headed for class. “Well, that was… something.”
“Oh, come on now. Don’t dis my dance moves. I’m pretty good for my age.”
He had a point there. I didn’t mention that he didn’t even look half as old as he truly was. “I’m not dissing,” I assured him. He had his hand out for me to slap, so I did, even though I kind of thought the whole thing was silly. Clearly, I was the only one as kids weighed the possibility of being late with waiting for Elliott’s attention and formed a line in the hallway. I found my seat and tried not to laugh at the rest of my brainwashed classmates.
As soon as I heard Liam’s voice in the hallway, my breath caught in my throat, and I felt my skin get all warm and clammy. I felt like he had been paying more attention to me recently. At lunch, he’d shifted his seat to the other side of the table so that he was looking my way, and a lot of times when I’d look up, I’d notice him looking at me. With Valentine’s Day next week, I was still debating whether or not I should take a chance and get him something. Was there a chance he would surprise me that day with flowers or candy? What if he asked me to homecoming?
He walked in the door, and my heart literally fluttered. I know it sounds ridiculously cliché, but it’s true. His basketball shirt made him look especially handsome, like a professional athlete. He had a big grin on his face, likely because he was just as fond of Elliott as everyone else, and when he caught my eyes, he was still smiling at me. “Hey, Cass,” he said, walking past me to take his seat. “How’s it going?”
“Great,” I said. “How ‘bout you?” I realized that didn’t quite make sense but figured he wouldn’t notice.
“Awesome. We have a fun teacher today.”
I couldn’t agree more. I opened my mouth to say something, but the bell rang, and a few moments later, Elliott came in, closing the door behind him. “All right, guys. Tell me again wh
at class this is?”
There was a laugh and someone shouted, “American History!”
“That’s right,” he said, picking up a dry erase marker and sprawling, “Dr. Sanderson” on the board. Turning back to face us, he said, “Now, that’s me. A real American history relic.” The class laughed, but I was the only one who knew he wasn’t just joking around. He walked over to Mrs. Neely’s desk and read over what I assumed were some sub notes. He scrunched his face up, like he was concentrating, and then shook his head before picking up the textbook and flipping a few pages. “American Revolution, huh?” He was still shaking his head. He closed the book and pushed all of Mrs. Neely’s perfectly placed artifacts back so that he could sit on the corner of the desk. “All right, kids, we’re not gonna talk about the Battle of Saratoga today.”
Everyone began to cheer, and I raised both of my eyebrows at him. He winked at me, which I thought others might think odd, except no one else seemed to notice. “Let’s talk about what you wanna know about American history,” he said. “A lot of people might think it’s boring, like all those guys are dead and who cares, right?”
“Right!” over half the class shouted.
“Wrong!” he corrected us. “Because, here’s the thing, not all of those guys are dead.” My eyes probably resembled dinner plates, and for a moment, I thought he was going to tell them he has a friend who fought in the war, but while everyone else puzzled over what he meant, he continued, “You see, as long as you continue to think about all of the things these men and women did for us, all those years ago, it’s like they’re still alive. I mean, think about it. George Washington died, like, two hundred years ago, right? But you’re still talking about him. Why? Because he was one awesome dude.” Most people couldn’t pull off that phrase the way that Elliott could. I looked around the room, and a lot of the kids were nodding. “Abe Lincoln? What do we know about him? Tall dude with a stylin’ hat, right? But… he made changes to our country that still impact us today. It’s important to know that stuff so we don’t screw things up. If we don’t know about the Emancipation Proclamation, we might do something really dumb like try to take another group of people’s rights away, right? That would totally suck.”
There were a few gasps as a few of the girls were shocked at his unexpected language. Elliott pressed on. “So, since I’m an old guy, with lots of old guy friends, I happen to know a thing or two about history. What do you wanna know?”
We all looked around for a moment, like we weren’t sure if he really wanted us to ask questions or not, but one of the kids in the back, one who never participates at all, I think his name is Jeremy, raised his hand and Elliott gestured for him to go ahead. “So, like, my grandpa says that Kennedy was this great president, and then this other dude shot him in the head. Why would someone do that? Were you alive when that happened?”
Elliott looked at me, and I had to look away, because I realized he actually was alive when Kennedy was assassinated. But looking at Jeremy, he asked, “Dude, how old do you think I am? Kennedy was assassinated in 1963. Do I look like I’m in my fifties?”
“No,” Jeremy laughed. A bunch of other kids laughed at him. “Sorry, man, I mean, sir.”
“Don’t call me sir, kid. I just told you, I’m not an old man.” That had everyone laughing. “I may not be in my fifties, but the Kennedy assassination is a great topic to discuss. What do y’all know about Kennedy’s presidency?”
Elliott called on a girl named Nora who is almost as smart as Emma. “He was president when we started the space program,” she said, very sure of herself.
“That’s right,” Elliott agreed. “So, why was that important?”
He called on another student, and for the next forty-five minutes, we talked about how people like Kennedy, Einstein, Helen Keller, and of course, George Washington, contributed to American history and why it is important to learn about these people and the things that they did to make our country great. By the time we left, I think we all had a new appreciation for why we needed to study the past. While I’ve always been good at memorizing facts for tests, I had never thought about it the way that Dr. Sanderson explained it to us. Of course, I wasn’t completely convinced there was no brainwashing going on, but I sort of thought Mrs. Neely would return to a class that didn’t quite know as much about the Battle of Saratoga as we were supposed to, but we would listen better during her next lecture because we would all appreciate history a little more.
The rest of the morning seemed to fly by, and as I placed my tray of overcooked spaghetti down on the cafeteria table, I couldn’t help but let my eyes flicker over to Liam. I swear he was looking in our direction. I decided to pretend not to notice but did flip my hair over my shoulder as I sat down.
“Barf,” Lucy said, plopping her tray down. Emma was already there, since she brought her lunch, and she joined me in trying to figure out what Lucy was referring to.
“Barf the spaghetti or…?” I asked.
“Barf the spaghetti and the boy you’re flipping your hair over,” she replied, pounding the thin plastic tube surrounding her silverware on the table a little harder than she probably needed to in order to get her spork to burst through the top.
Emma turned and glanced over her shoulder before turning back to face us. “If the spaghetti is gross, why did you get it?”
Lucy shrugged and stirred it up a few times before loading a bite onto her fork. “I guess the line was shorter than the salad bar.” She took a bite and made a face.
Frustrated, I set my spork aside. “Why don’t you like him?” I asked. “He’s a good guy.”
She raised her eyebrows at me and stared for a moment. “You’re entitled to your opinion. I just… he’s shady, that’s all.”
“He’s throwing shade all up in this place.”
Both Lucy and I turned our heads to survey Emma who had a perfectly straight face for a few seconds before she started laughing at herself, which made us laugh as well.
“Who are you, and what have you done with our Emma?” Lucy asked.
“I don’t know,” Emma shrugged. “Just being silly. Was that silly?”
“Very silly,” I assured her. I thought about returning the conversation back to Lucy’s comment, but then thought better of it and let it go. She didn’t have to like Liam. It wasn’t like we were dating.
Lucy and I both had Mrs. Neely for history, though at different times of the day, while Emma had a different history teacher, so she wouldn’t get to sit through Dr. Sanderson’s engaging lecture. We both had similar stories about how much more interesting he had made the class, and I was just about to make another comment, one that had something to do with his true age, when the chair across from us screeched out from under the table, and I looked up to see Dr. Sanderson standing there. I was glad I hadn’t opened my mouth, since as far as I knew, he wasn’t aware that Lucy and Emma were re-aware of the truth.
“What are you doing here?” I asked as he sat down.
“Nice to see you, too.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” I said, wondering if my tone had been harsh. “It’s just… Mrs. Neely has a class right now, doesn’t she?”
“Yeah, but they’re good. They’re reading chapter twenty-seven and answering the questions at the end like good little robots.”
“Ugh. Glad you didn’t make us do that,” Lucy said, pushing her tray aside.
“Something tells me we’ll have to do it tomorrow,” I replied. “Class was fun.”
“Yeah, sure was,” he agreed. “What time’s the game tonight?”
“Seven thirty,” Lucy answered before I could get it out. “You comin’?”
“Of course,” Elliott replied. “Drove all the way from Kansas City just to see it.”
I know my entire face was a question mark. “You came up here just to watch a JV basketball game?”
“Nah, I came here to watch my two favorite cheerleaders,” he replied, making Lucy giggle. “I don’t even know who we’r
e playing.”
“The Cougars,” Lucy replied, making a face. “They’re legit two feet taller than us and built like farmers.”
“Mostly because they are farmers,” I noted.
“So are we,” Emma chimed in, shrugging.
“You going?” Elliott asked her.
“I don’t know.” Emma took a deep breath. “I have already attended two games, which is my quota for the months of January and February.”
“Emma hates crowds, or people in general,” Lucy explained, “but she wants to be a good friend. So, we decided that if she came to one game per month, that would be sufficient support.”
Elliott nodded. “Man, I was hoping you’d be there. I need someone to sit with.”
Emma looked around the cafeteria. “I believe there are plenty of other students who would be happy to sit with you, Dr. Sanderson. Or you could sit with Mr. and Mrs. Findley, or Mr. and Mrs. Burk.”
“Yeah, but none of those people are as cool as you.”
He had her blushing then, and I was in awe. I’ve seen her turn red before, out of frustration or anxiety, but rarely for the reason she was a light shade of maroon at the moment. “Well, I guess I could come.”
“Awesome!” Elliott exclaimed. “All right, I should probably get back to class, though I’m pretty sure no one’s left their seat since I told them I’d be right back.” He winked at me, and I realized that meant he’d brainwashed them into not getting up. I hoped no one had to pee or vomit. “Need a ride home, kid?”
“Uh, yeah,” I replied.
“I didn’t bring Aaron’s hotrod today, so it’ll have to be in the Buick.”
I was minimally disappointed, but I nodded. “That’s okay.” I’d still get to ride home with the coolest teacher ever.
