Bloodsuckers and Blunders

by Poppy Inkwell

  Maddie realized with a start that she had spent so much of her time obsessing about Being The Best that she’d neglected her own friends. And they, in turn, had stopped including her in their plans. Why bother when they knew the answer was going to be no? Maddie couldn’t even remember the last time she’d taken an interest in what her friends were doing - too busy urging them to listen to her audition pieces. Something they were doing with less and less enthusiasm.

  What did you get when you put nothing into a relationship? When the “Me” and the “I want” outweighed everything and everyone else? When reaching a goal and ambition became more important than friendship?

  An audience.

  You had to be careful what you wished for.

  ...

  Alana noticed with regret that her vampire theories were fast unraveling as Corinne chatted and flitted around the store, holding up prospective outfits against each of the girls’ frames. Will’s dad, Vlad, comes from Sweden and my family is from Ireland, so we suffer terribly from sunburn and avoid the outdoors wherever possible. I’m sure that’s why we’ve all got such terrible circulation, and of course Alice’s skin is so delicate. Ooh, I like this color on you, Maddie. Steak tartare tastes wonderful! We often eat food raw. So many nutrients are lost after cooking. How about this, Sofia? This has a real boho-chic feel to it. Have the children still got that silly game? Will’s always messing around. Im sorry if he scared you. Try this scarf, Khalilah. It’s really cute with the bear ears sewn on.

  Alana was losing patience. With her theory in shreds, all she had left was a creepy great aunt and fangs. At least it wasn’t a creepy great aunt with fangs.

  Or not that she’d noticed...

  “What does your husband do, Mrs. Löfgren?” Alana asked, knowing she was grasping at straws.

  “My husband? Vlad?” Corinne repeated, for once at a loss. She stared out the shop window where pedestrians were rushing past to escape a sudden downpour. The image reminded Alana of a Monet painting - soft and slightly out of focus. A whiplash of lightning illuminated the darkened street and as if on cue, Will and Alice suddenly appeared on either side of their mother. Their presence was almost menacing and Corinne seemed to fold in on herself as she shrank toward the rack of clothes behind her.

  “You don’t want to know about Dad,” said Will with a meaningful look at his mother.

  Alice advanced from the other side and agreed. “Dad is very, very boring. Isn’t he, Mom?”

  Alana raised an eyebrow. Corinne had burrowed into the Specials Rack. “Yes, dears. Very, very boring,” she squeaked, eyes downcast, picking at her hem.

  As soon as there was a break from the rain, the girls said goodbye and left the warm interior, only to be embraced by a bitter wind. Each gust hinted at the bite of winter to come. Khalilah was thankful for her new scarf with the bear ears, which she wrapped more tightly around her neck. Alana followed suit as she pulled on a second beanie and tagged along with her friends to a nearby café for lunch. The reconnaissance mission had yielded an intriguing lead - Will and Alice had been too keen to convince them that their dad was “very, very boring” and Alana was determined to find out why.

  CHAPTER 32

  Your own worst enemy

  “A disappointing effort, Miss Oakley,” Mrs. Snell tutted as she handed Alana back her essay on Reel History: A look at the history of horror films. “I expect more from you.”

  Alana fared no better in English and even worse in math. “Is everything okay at home?” Mr. Hornby felt compelled to ask, to which Alana could only shake her head in embarrassment. The only subject she wasn’t failing was science, but that was because Miss Metcalf let the students do whatever they want so she could check the surf scene on her computer. Last class some students worked on the physics’ principle of Hooke’s Law with a pogo stick, while others experimented with rocket-making outside. People were either bouncing and falling all over class or running from falling debris.

  Alana knew her lack of concentration was affecting her work. She also knew how to fix it. But knowing it and doing it were two very different things.

  “You hang up first,” Alana whispered, looking at the clock. The digital display by her bed said

  11:05.

  “No, you hang up,” Flynn said.

  Twenty minutes of silence later...

  “Hang up the phone, Flynn.”

  “I will after you do it.”

  The late-night calls had to stop. Hours of listening to each other just breathe. Alana wondered if it was weird that that was all they wanted to do. That it physically hurt to disconnect the phone.

  “You can borrow my glasses if you like,” Khalilah offered one day while they were studying Malay at her home. Mr. and Mrs. Madzaini were inordinately pleased with Khalilah’s academic progress, which they attributed to the red resin frames. Khalilah balanced her glasses on Alana’s nose. “See, you look smarter already.”

  What nobody realized was that Khalilah was transforming study, especially the periodic table, into a format she could understand. The molecule for water (H20) for example, was the girl Oxygen, towing the twin Hydrogens from her plaits. And Fluorine had anger issues because it was the most reactive chemical element. A glance at her science notebook could easily have been mistaken for a modern interpretation of Tolstoy’s War and Peace... but with weirder names.

  Sadly, there was no such breakthrough in learning for Alana no matter how much more intelligent she looked in specs. The situation got so dire that after the third week back at school, Alana was called into the deputy principal’s office. To Mr. Turner’s annoyance, Alana was unable to offer a satisfactory explanation for her falling grades.

  “The Sir Marcus Oliphant Scholarship is awarded to the student who best displays temerity, curiosity, and intelligence, as well as a high standard of physical competence. Lately your academic record has been sorely lacking in all three, and you’re barely scraping a Pass in PE. If this continues...”

  Alana nodded her head. She understood the consequences. Flynn or no Flynn, it was time for her to Pull Up Her Socks or else.

  CHAPTER 33

  Prisoner of love

  Soccer training, school assignments, and the looming mid-year exams made time pass in a blur. The four girls took turns hosting revision weekends to prepare. Alana made a determined effort to work harder after the talk with Mr. Turner, but Sofia couldn’t resist bringing the vampire trilogy along and took to reading a few pages from them aloud. The other girls often stopped what they were doing to listen to her. At this, adults of the household always shook their heads and muttered about “fairy-tale nonsense” and “unrealistic expectations.”

  “They puke, they snore, they fart,” Auntie Mo of the Dawson household said, glowering at Uncle Joe who released a loud belch. “The sooner you realize it, the better!” This last sentence, Alana felt, was directed at little Cassy, who lay in the same makeshift bed of flowers made months before. Her tiny, button nose buried in the same story.

  “Being a princess isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, you know,” Khalilah said to Cassy. “I should know,” she muttered.

  But the girls didn’t care none of it was real. They knew boys didn’t really glitter in the sun, or were too hot to wear shirts in the middle of winter. Love wasn’t logical. “Do you think we’ll ever find love like that?” was their favorite question.

  Everyone scoffed except Emma.

  “Oh yes,” she insisted. “I found Alana’s dad, Hugo,” cupping her head dreamily in one hand as she stirred her coffee with a pen.

  Alana sighed and swapped the pen for a teaspoon. She wanted to believe in the kind of love her parents had shared, but would she ever find it? How would she know it was real and not some corny high school infatuation? And which is Flynn? The question snuck into her head and pitched a camping spot.

  Alana made an effort to refocus. “Can someone test me on history?”

  Sofia fixed her ear buds firmly into place and turned up the vol
ume on Jet Tierbert. She did not want to listen to all the creative ways a person could be tortured or killed.

  “Name the animal whose skin toxins are used to coat blowpipe darts by the Columbian Indians of the Embera Choco region,” said Maddie.

  “Phyllobates terribilis or the Golden Poison Frog. Its common name is ‘Poison Dart Frog,’ or kokoi in the local language.”

  Maddie smiled. “Correct. An adult terribilis contains around one milligram of poison which is enough to kill one human, between one and ten humans, or between ten to twenty humans?”

  “Between ten to twenty.”

  “Yep.”

  While Alana and Maddie continued to test each other on poisons like tetrodotoxin — a toxin so deadly it was 1,200 times more poisonous than cyanide - Khalilah jumped up and seized Sofia by the hands. She began to swing her around in a circle, humming the waltz.

  “What are you doing?” Sofia cried, giggling.

  Maddie jumped up to join them. Sofia began to dance with Maddie, as Khalilah grabbed Mrs. Oakley. Round and round they twirled. Emma laughed good-naturedly as they spun. Their humming turned into lahs.

  “Lah, lah, lah. Come on, Alana,” Maddie said, reaching out her hand. But Alana refused to join in. “The chemical formula of Batrachotoxin is C31H42N2O6,” she said loudly, eyes screwed shut.

  “What’s wrong with Alana?” Emma wanted to know.

  “Cinderella’s grumpy because she’s too young to go to the ball,” Sofia said with a mischievous grin.

  “The ball?”

  “The Year Ten formal,” Khalilah explained, puffing slightly from the twirl.

  “Yep,” Maddie said. “We’ve been learning Ballroom Dancing and Alana would LOVE to show off her new dance moves but only Year Tens get to go.” She dodged a cushion. “Mrs. Cronenberg —”

  “— our dance teacher —” Khalilah explained, ducking.

  “— thinks Alana is very special.” The girls giggled as another cushion sailed past.

  Alana ran out of cushions to throw. “Mrs. Cronenberg can drop dead for all I care! There is no way I’m doing the waltz and I wish she’d get out of my life.”

  “The waltz is lovely, Alana, but I guess it is a bit old-fashioned. Shall I show you girls the dancing I liked to do when I was your age? It was retro even when I was young, though,” Emma said apologetically. Despite Alana’s protests that nobody wanted to see Emma Shake Her Booty, Emma proceeded to do so, leading the four girls in lots of finger jabbing at the ceiling.

  “Don’t stop ‘til you get enough,” Emma sang.

  All four girls promptly sat down.

  CHAPTER 34

  Kusmuk finds her banana

  Alana and her friends turned up for Ballroom Dancing with the rest of her class on Monday morning to find a note taped to the door:

  Alana felt a surge of elation. They heard the boom boom boom of a beatboxer well before they saw Tran leading a small group of Second-Chancers. He was heading their way. Khalilah whooped. There was no doubt in her mind that Tran was replacing Mrs. Cronenberg to teach them some “old-school moves,” a bit of breakdancing, moonwalking, maybe even a bit of head spinning. Tran spotted them too and beatboxed a greeting:

  It’s Hotchickalana,

  Hangin out with Khalilah.

  So nice to see ya'

  They ride boards with no feah-ya!

  While Alana was not as excited as Khalilah, she still felt a sense of relief. She didn’t care what moves Tŕân had in mind, as long as it didn’t involve someone invading her personal space. Even if that someone is Flynn? A voice in her head asked. Alana ignored the slight pang of regret and raised her hand to slap Khalilah’s in a high five. Only it wasn’t Khalilah’s hand that clamped onto hers. This hand was much smaller with the strength of a Rottweiler’s jaws.

  “Nice to see you, too, Oakley,” Coach Kusmuk grinned before twisting Alana’s hand up and then behind her back, before flipping her over. Alana found herself face-to-face with the ceiling.

  Coach Kusmuk’s voice wiped the triumph from Khalilah’s face. “Welcome to martial arts! In this class we will be learning specific skills from judo, jujitsu, karate, aikido, tae kwon do, and hapkido. Each of these self-defense techniques requires a great deal of strength, coordination, and agility, but none of this will help you if your mind is weak,” Kusmuk announced, indicating Alana on the floor, “as my volunteer has demonstrated.”

  The group moved to the mats in the great hall. Khalilah waved forlornly at Tŕân as he disappeared into the dance studio. Kusmuk, her tiny frame as thin and as wiry as an adolescent’s, seemed to expand to the size of a monster truck. She cracked her neck twice and took in a lungful of sweat-soaked air, just stopping short of beating her chest. The teacher was almost trembling with excitement. Alana could hardly blame her. Not so long ago, Alana had knocked the coach out in a bout of kickboxing. Kusmuk must be dying for an opportunity to pay her back.

  “Note that you should always exploit the weaknesses of your opponent, and maximize your own strengths,” she explained, sweeping Alana’s legs from under her. “To do this, you have to keep your mind sharp and focused. Use your brain. Fight smart and then it doesn’t matter if your opponent is faster. (Ooof). Stronger. (Arrgh). Better. (Ullullull)? Alana found herself looking at the ceiling once more. “You will always win.” There was a humming in Alana’s ears. Then she realized Coach Kusmuk was singing. If she strained her ears she could hear her. “... simply remember our favorite things are so bad...”

  That’s strange. It sounded very different when Miss Beatrice sang it.

  Pffft. The air in Alana’s lungs made a bid for escape. Alana wished she could do the same. But even though she was being pummeled and pulled, thrown and shoved, Alana felt a strange sense of gratitude to be there.

  “Are you okay?” Sofia’s worried face appeared next to hers. Alana swayed as she got up. There were four Sofias belly dancing in front of her eyes.

  Sofia felt a tug on her arm. It was Maddie. “Don’t worry about Alana,” she said with a defiant glance at the smirking coach. “She’s a lot tougher than she looks.”

  In the background of her vision Alana saw Khalilah fend off the attacks of her P.E. partner with ease. By using her weight to her advantage, she remained as unmoveable as a boulder. Flynn, as an Army brat, was as comfortable in hand-to-hand combat as he was on the dance floor, and sidestepped all the kicks and blows that came his way. Miller was not having an easy time but in an odd way seemed to enjoy being thrown about the room with Neanderthal abandon. With five older brothers, Alana didn’t expect any less of her friend, Sofia.

  “’Sbetter than ballroom dancing,” she repeated to herself, although not sounding as convinced as before. Kusmuk used the momentum of one of Alana’s wild punches to throw her effortlessly to the ground. Alana rolled onto her back with a groan. “I’m okay!” She held up a hand to tell the crowd of faces that came to check on her. She was eager to reassure them it wasn’t anything serious. “m okay. I don’need t’go to the...” The room swam again. ... clinic.

  “Oh, but I think a visit to the clinic is EXACTLY what you need,” said Coach Kusmuk.

  Revenge. Kusmuk’s eyes said. Her grim smile was the last thing Alana saw before she blacked out, happier than Alana had ever seen her.

  The coach had found her banana.

  CHAPTER 35

  A shocking discovery

  Darling Lala, (Alana read)

  Auntie Ling Ling and I are taking Auntie Katriona on a road trip to celebrate her 30th birthday. Late, I know, but it’s the only thing which will get her out of bed and hopefully out of the doldrums. Unless we don’t see Kylie Minogue, in which case ... BUT we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. We will be back in plenty of time for the Big Game, so not long. Grandma dropped off some food — see the freezer — which should tide you over until I get back.

  Guess what? I bumped into our lovely new neighbors, you know the ones who moved in across the road, and they have promised to
keep an eye on you. So nice to have some friends move in (finally!) who are of a similar age.

  Miss you already.

  Forever. For always. No matter what.

  Mamadoodlekins

  xoxoxoxoxo

  P.S. I’ve sorted out that problem you were telling me about and the new neighbors are ecstatic to help. I wont say anymore because I don’t want to spoil the surprise but I cant WAIT for your birthday!

  For once, Alana reflected, her mom’s timing was perfect. Alana could quite safely sneak out of her house to snoop on the neighbors without disturbing Emma, who preferred to work in the downstairs study through the night. Alana did not want to think about what role her new neighbors were going to play in her birthday, but if it was anything like past birthdays, it couldn’t be good. She pushed away the negative thoughts - it was a couple of months before her birthday, after all -and concentrated on the task at hand.