Bloodsuckers and Blunders

by Poppy Inkwell

  CHAPTER 58

  A fairy-tale ending

  Alana’s lips were not the only ones left unkissed. Cassy Dawson, Maddie’s little sister, was still pretending to be Snow White on her makeshift bed of paper blossoms. She was still waiting for a kiss from her prince. And she was still waiting for him, even as her eyes closed and the letters in her favorite book turned blurry, so that she almost missed it when it happened. Quick as lightning and as gentle as a butterfly.

  “Night night, Princess.”

  Cassy’s eyes flew open and her arms were around her father’s neck even before she’d woken up. She knew her wish would come true!

  There was lots of noise then, the kind of burbling chatter that always accompanies late night cups of tea and catch-up conversations. Troy ached to tell his dad about school. Maddie had news about her violin performance at the school dance, and Cassy insisted on reading him a story.

  “Read?” Auntie Mo scoffed. “Her scrawny butt hasn’t left that bed since you left,” she informed the trucker who was placidly sipping a cup of tea, one arm around Maddie’s mom, Nancy. “It doesn’t count just because you’ve memorized it,” she said to Cassy.

  Cassy stood up and shot Mo a look that Mo herself was impressed with, but didn’t dare show it. She snatched a random white envelope from the coffee table and ripped it open.

  “Dear Miss Madison Dawson, Congratulations. Your application to Sydney’s Conservatorium High School has been successful. Please contact the Admissions Office for further information. We wish you all the best. Sincerely, Professor Tane Rangi.” Cassy’s narrow shoulders shook as she tried to catch her breath.

  “Are you sure there’s not an ‘un’ after the word ‘successful,’ Cassy?” Maddie said faintly.

  “No. I’m very sure,” Cassy said belligerently.

  “Me and my scrawny butt can read.”

  Nobody knew how to react. Everything felt like it was tumbling around inside, as twisted as a car wreck. Maddie took the letter from Cassy gently.

  “Cassy. You can read.”

  “Yes.” Cassy’s eyes widened. “Maddie. You’re going away to study.”

  “Sounds like it.”

  Then the words started to fly around the room with more urgency. Cassy-can-read-Maddie-Sydney-Conservatorium-I-don’t-believe-it-Cassy-Maddie-Cassy ... Under the table, slightly away from the shouting and screaming, Cassy crawled over to Troy to stare at him with big, serious eyes.

  “I can come to school now.” She paused, thinking that maybe it was safer to ask. “Is that okay with you?”

  Troy’s face broke into a huge grin. “Yeah! I can teach you to jump and you can teach me to read!”

  CHAPTER 59

  Opportunity knocks

  Several suburbs away in the Madzaini household, voices were also being raised but not in joy.

  “I don’t understand why I have to go now,'’ Khalilah said to the three adults sitting on the couch. “I’m happy here, and Mama hasn’t finished her PhD yet.”

  Auntie Nor sniffed in annoyance. “We have a family tradition of going to the U.K. for our education. Sometimes it is after your high school graduation. If you are very fortunate, sometimes it is before. This is a golden opportunity to attend one of the most prestigious ladies colleges in the world. I, myself, went there. You will learn proper manners, deportment, etiquette, the right way to speak...”

  “What’s wrong with the way I speak?” Khalilah pouted.

  Auntie Nor’s lips pressed together so thinly they almost disappeared as Jefri sashayed through the living room and up the stairs, urging people to “do the Locomotion.” She did not want to tell Khalilah the real reason for moving her to the exclusive, allgirl’s boarding school. Jefri might be a lost cause but Khalilah at least, was still young enough to be molded into someone suitable for society. If her wayward sister, Amal, didn’t want to think about their social position, then it was up to Nor to take matters into her own hands. “This is what you’ve said you’ve always wanted.”

  Khalilah looked momentarily confused. “I did. I mean I do. I just thought I’d go there for university, or something. That I’d have more time here.” Khalilah looked at her parents, clearly distressed. “I’ve made such good friends.”

  Amal quickly jumped in before her older sister could tell Khalilah unhelpfully that she would make new ones. “Try it out for a year. It really is a great school and you’ll be so close to Europe. Imagine where you could go sightseeing,” she said, appealing to Khalilah’s ambition to see the world.

  “Just a year?” Khalilah looked at her dad for confirmation.

  “If that’s what you want,” he answered.

  “Okay,” Khalilah sighed with obvious reluctance. “I suppose if it’s only a year...”

  But how would she tell her friends, and what would Maddie, Alana, and Sofia say?

  CHAPTER 60

  Change: The only constant

  Maddie didn’t do tears.

  Not when the BlueJay Bruisers almost broke her leg in last year’s game. Not when her first violin got stolen. Not even when the kids from the other school whispered insults or called her names as she walked past. Tears dry up fast when you take a blowtorch to your eyes. To burn images from your brain. Images like her dad lying in waste from cancer. Yellow. Dying.

  If there had been a blowtorch.

  Maddie was the strong one when she’d first met Alana on the Kidz2Air program at the community radio station. It was just after Alana’s dad had died. She was the one to take the new girl under her wing and coax the smile back onto her face through shared playlists and exaggerated DJ accents. That both their dads were gone was the first thread to hold them together. It was a bond that had grown stronger and tighter ever since.

  And now Maddie was off to The Con. Khalilah was moving to London. Sofia was doing a Summer Science Internship at the University of Melbourne. All but Alana were embarking on a new adventure. So why did Maddie feel like she was the one being abandoned?

  Again.

  Whatever.

  Maddie didn’t do tears.

  ...

  “London’s not that far, you know,” Khalilah said. “It’s like, you get on a plane, they feed you a couple of meals, you watch about five movies, and then you’re there.”

  To Maddie who had never been farther than North Sydney, who didn’t even own a passport, London was practically Mars.

  Sofia looked at Khalilah in the mirror, through the corner of one eye, because to look at her friend straight-on felt way too weird. “You look really different in your new head thingy.” Khalilah’s face was framed like an apple. It made her cheeks look rounder and her eyes look huge. Sofia remained wary about the change. As far as she was concerned, Khalilah’s Auntie Nor was still the scariest nun she had ever met.

  Khalilah scratched her head through the fabric. It felt itchy and uncomfortable. When she’d complained and said, “It’s hot,” Auntie Nor had said, “Hell is hot,” and effectively shut down the conversation.

  “We call it a tudong. It’s pretty handy, too,” Khalilah said with her characteristic grin. “See?” She held out the ear buds of her MP3 which were hiding under the silk scarf. If school got boring she was going to listen to Jet Tierbert. Maybe even if school didn’t get boring.

  “Plus, I figure ‘Auntie Snore’ doesn’t really need to see my hair right now,” Khalilah said, removing her headscarf to adjust it properly.

  Khalilah’s hair was such a violent orange it punched your eyes.

  It was shaved on one side.

  It was so neon it glowed.

  “I mean, I know flight staff can deliver babies on planes, and all that,” she continued to prattle as they all stared, “but they probably don’t want to deal with a coronary. What?” she said when no one said a word. “I’m going to Lon-don, ba-by!” she said with Austin Power-swagger. “I’m blending in!”

  For the first time that day, Maddie and Sofia smiled. They helped Khalilah put her tudong back on and adj
usted the corners so they were even. Khalilah was still there. Under the tudong. Under the mad, neon hair. Even thousands of kilometers away in “Lon-don, ba-by,” Khalilah wasn’t going to change.

  “You have a serious death wish,” Sofia told her friend who just beamed in reply.

  “Are you crying, Maddie?” Alana asked, amazed.

  “Maddie doesn’t do tears,” Khalilah said emphatically.

  Then there were no longer four heads, but one: a chocolate, magenta, electric blue, flaming patch of giggles and gasps and not-tears.

  The End

  BIOGRAPHY

  Poppy Inkwell writes a lot of different things. Stories...

  Website content...

  Mandalas...

  But not Christmas cards ... or not very often.

  When she’s not at her desk writing, you will find her ferreting in car boot sales, experimenting with food gastronomy, or playing with her camera.

  Born in the Philippines, she now lives by the beach in Australia with one husband, two of her children, and four pets (May They Rest In Peace).

  See www.poppyinkwell.com for happenings, weird trivia, and more!