The Blood Coven - Stake That Part 17

"I'm going to get you for this, you s.k.a.n.k freak," Mike adds as Monsieur Dawson drags him away. "Just you wait."

I sigh. I just wish I could somehow turn the guy into a vampire so I could stake him through the heart. Him and my father.

The two of them should really die.

24

MONDAY, JUNE 11, 8 P.M.

Parents Just Don't Understand

So of course Mom totally freaks out about my detention. Especially since it was due to fighting. As you can imagine, as a hippie she's very into peace. And it's not just peace in the Middle East-that would at least be understandable. She evidently is advocating peace at Oakridge High as well. Puh-leeze. If only she knew what an obnoxious jerk Mike Stevens is. I try to explain how he spit on me, but she starts spouting something about turning the other cheek. As if I want to get spit on my other cheek next time. Ew!

And the worst part is that she doesn't ground me, she wants to have a "talk." Ugh. I hate talks. I'd much rather be sent to my room without supper and kept there 'til I grow cobwebs. Locked in a tower like Rapunzel would suit me just fine. Just as long as I don't have to talk and share my feelings. (And, uh, grow my hair that long. I have a hard enough time with tangles as it is.) "You've been acting very angry lately," she says, closing the door to my bedroom and joining me on the bed. I stare at my hands. This is so not fair. So, so not fair. "What's bothering you? Is it your father not showing up for your birthday?" she adds, in that horrible pity voice of hers. Grr. Nothing's worse than the pity voice.

"No," I retort. I knew she'd try that. Try to drag Dad into it.

"I know that must have hurt a lot, sweetie. I'm really sorry about that."

"I'm fine," I retort, anger welling up inside me, bubbling in my stomach, and making me feel sick. I knew we should have never told her about Dad's supposed plans to visit.

Mom frowns. "I don't think so, dear. People who are fine don't get into fights at school."

"They do if they're provoked by a.s.shole football players."

Mom winces a bit at the swearing, but doesn't comment on it. "Are you having problems at school, Rayne?" she asks. "I've noticed your grades are slipping as well. You went from honor roll to C student this year."

"Yeah, well I have stupid teachers." Stupid teachers who always favor the jocks and cheerleaders. Stupid teachers who think just because I dress in black I'm doomed to be a dropout and don't give me the time of day. I'm smarter than all those losers I go to school with.

"What don't you like about them?"

Sigh. "Nothing. They're fine. Forget I said anything." The less I talk, the shorter this will take. I'm supposed to meet up with Spider and I can't leave Spider waiting.

"I don't want to forget you said anything. I want you to tell me what's wrong." Mom reaches over to touch me on the shoulder. I shrug away. I know I'm being unfair, but I can't help it. I know if she touches me, I'll start crying. And that's the last thing I want. "I'm your mother, Rayne. And I care about how you're feeling."

Yeah, right. She thinks she cares, but she isn't ready to hear the truth. That her precious daughter is a weirdo. A freak. A social reject with barely any friends and a father who doesn't even bother to show up to her birthday party.

If only that vampire thing had worked out to begin with. I could be miles away from this miserable existence. I could be living in the lavish underground coven with magic powers and riches beyond belief. My days could have been spent reading the cla.s.sics.

Studying philosophy to enrich my world. No schoolwork. No parents. Nothing but bliss.

Instead, I'm stuck here. In my mundane, horrible existence where no one understands me. Mom will never get it. She's too innocent to understand my depravity. She's too sweet to see the chaos that swirls under my skin. And I'm okay with that, actually.

It's better that she live her life in her daisy-strewn optimism than know what a monster she created when she had me.

I think I must take after Dad.

"Rayne, I love you," Mom says, trying one more tactic. I know she'll give up soon and in a weird way this disappoints me.

"I know you do, Mom," I say resignedly.

Mom rises to her feet, her hazel eyes looking a bit watery. I feel terrible for putting her through this. For making her deal with me. Part of me wants to jump up and throw myself in her arms. Let her hold me and comfort me as I cry and tell her how much Dad hurt me by not showing up to my birthday. Take her strength since I have little left of my own.

But I can't find the willpower to get up from the bed. To lose face and admit weakness. So I sit scowling. More angry at myself than at her.

"If you ever want to talk, I'm here," she says. "I mean it." "Thanks," I mumble, staring at my shoes, barely able to get the word out.

Mom pauses at the door. "I'm supposed to go out tonight, but. . . well, if you'd prefer I stay home, I will."

I look up. "Out?"

Mom's face gets red. "With David."

Great. She's still seeing David. Could my day get any worse?

"I don't think you should go out tonight ... or ever," I mutter. "Not with him." "Rayne, why? He's really nice. What do you have against him?" Mom lets out a frustrated breath. I can tell she's trying hard to be nice to me still, but at the same time she's ready to wring my neck. "Is it 'cause you feel he's going to replace your father?"

OMG! Does EVERYTHING in my freaking life have to revolve around Dad?

"Do you think I'm stupid?" I yell, scrambling to my feet, absolutely furious that she would even say such a thing. G.o.d, I wish that punching bag was here right about now. "Do you really think I'm holding out some kind of inane hope that the guy's gonna suddenly show up at our doorstep and want to be a family again? That's crazy, Mom! Really crazy!"

Mom takes a step backward, her eyes wide. I think she's afraid of me. Great. I've made my own mother afraid of me. I am a loser. Such a loser.

"Then what is it, Rayne? What's wrong with David?"

"There's nothing wrong with him. Nothing except for the fact that he's an evil vampire and I don't want him to kill you."

There. I said it. Let her deal with reality for once. I'm sick of sheltering her from the truth and looking like an idiot. Then again, in hindsight, telling one's mother that she's dating an evil vampire is probably not the best way to keep from looking idiotic.

Mom stares at me, her eyes narrowing and her lips pressed together tightly. She pauses for a moment and then speaks slowly and deliberately. "So you're trying to tell me that I shouldn't date David because he's a vampire."

"An evil vampire. If he was one of the good guys, I'd have no issue with it. In fact, I think it'd be kind of cool."

Realization lights on Mom's face. "Is that what you two were doing the other night with the garlic and the rosary beads?" she asks in a tight voice.

"Well, yes. Actually it was. It was a test. And he failed. Or pa.s.sed-however you want to look at it. Bottom line, he is a vampire, Mom. And I don't think it's wise for you to be dating him because-"

"Rayne, this has gone far enough," Mom interrupts. "You obviously need help. I'm sending you back to Dr. Devlin. In fact, I'm going to see if he has any last-minute openings for tomorrow." She turns and storms out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

I slump back into my bed, tears of frustration springing to my eyes. Great. Just great. Now, in addition to Mom risking her life with Vamp Nerd, I'm going to be sent back to Dr. Devlin, psycho psychiatrist.

Let this be a lesson to all of you. No matter what happens, never tell your mom she's dating an evil vampire. It's just not worth it.

25

DIARY ENTRY, TUESDAY, JUNE 12, 8 P.M.

I <3 jareth="" and="" i="" don't="" care="" what="" u="">

Wow. So much has happened since I last wrote. Where to begin? I doubt I can write this as one big diary entry-it'd take me a week to type. I guess I can split it up into chapters. Not like anyone's reading this anymore. Sigh. I kind of miss my blog. It feels lonely writing to myself. .. .

Luckily Dr. Devlin is booked up for about a month so I don't have to waste the evening talking to him about the symbolism of my dreams or whatever. After detention I go straight home and go straight to my room, yelling down that I'm not interested in any dinner before slamming my and blasting Snow Patrol from my stereo.

I turn off the light and lie on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. When Sunny and I were little we pasted glow-in-the-dark stars up there and there are still a few left, struggling to glow in their old age. It's kind of comforting to look at them. To remember a more innocent time.

I let my mind wander over the past week. The excitement of Dad coming. The disappointment of Dad not coming. The fight with Mike Stevens. The fight with Mom. The finding out that I have a destiny. The finding out that I have to share that destiny with a vampire who hates me. The realization that the vampire maybe isn't so bad.

I wonder where Jareth is. I haven't seen him since Wednesday night. He told me he'd call me when the results of the donor's blood came back from the lab, but it's already Tuesday and I haven't heard from him. Maybe he decided he'd be better off working alone. That he didn't need me.

The thought brings on the tears again. Jeez. I feel like I've cried more in the last three days than I have the rest of my life combined.

I'm such an idiot. To think Jareth might actually like me. That he might have been jealous when he saw me dancing with that other vamp. That he might have made up that excuse to kiss me in the broom closet just so he could do it. That there might be some kind of future with him.

Dumb, Rayne. Truly dumb.

Of course he doesn't want a future with me. What do I have to offer? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. My own father isn't interested in a future with me. Why should Jareth be?

Bleh.

I force myself to zone out to Snow Patrol, concentrating on the deep, melodious sounds and trying to block out the overwhelming sadness that's threatening to take me. A few minutes later I'm so into the music that I almost don't hear the knock on my door.

"Rayne?"

Mom. Great. I wonder if she's here to yell or to attempt comfort. I wonder which would be more annoying.

"Go away!" I cry, my voice sounding a bit wobbly. I hope she can't tell I've been crying. I don't want to give her the satisfaction.

"That's really nice, Rayne, thanks," she retorts. "And I'll be happy to. I just thought you might like to know there's a boy here to see you."

I raise my head and look over at the closed bedroom door, A boy? What boy would visit me? "Who is it?" I ask, against my better judgment.

"I've never seen him before," Mom says. "He says his name is Jareth. Tall, skinny. A bit on the pasty side? Dressed all in black, just how you like 'em," she adds, and I can hear a small smile in her voice. "Just hope he's not an evil vampire."

I wince a bit at the dig, but know she's doing her best to try to lighten things up between us. "Nah, he's not," I say with all the false bravado I can muster. "He's one of the good guys."

Mom laughs. "So I should send him up then?" she asks and I can hear the relief in her voice after what she thinks is my attempt at humor.

But no time for a.n.a.lyzing. Jareth is here. Here in my house. Soon to be here in my bedroom. Gah! I'm so unprepared. I glance around the room, realizing I have clothes strewn everywhere and that I'm wearing plaid flannel pants and a T-s.h.i.+rt.

"Rayne?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," I say, frantically grabbing discarded laundry and tossing it in the hamper. I'd normally ask if she could stall him for a moment or two, but I don't want her asking a thousand-year-old vampire about where he goes to high school.

I shed my clothes faster than Superman in a phone booth, tossing on a black-and-white plaid skirt and a Smiths concert T- s.h.i.+rt, then run over to the mirror.

Ugh. Even with the change of clothes I'm not looking so hot. My eyes are completely bloodshot from crying and my makeup's all smeared. I run my index finger under my eyes to try to get rid of the excess black. Then I apply more of my bloodred lipstick. Maybe that'll detract from the eyes.

A knock on the door causes my heart to jump in my throat. Why am I so nervous? It's just Jareth. We've been working to- gether for nearly a week now. It's all business. And that one kiss? Well, it didn't mean anything. So there's absolutely no reason to freak.

Another knock. This one louder.

"Come in," I say, rus.h.i.+ng back to my computer, as if I've been sitting there the whole time. No need for him to know was worth reapplying lip gloss for.

He opens the door and steps over the threshold into my room. I've had guys in here before. Mom's cool with it as long as we keep the door open. But this seems different somehow. More dangerous. And since Jareth doesn't know the door rule, he shuts it behind him before walking over and sit-ting down on the bed. My bed. Gah! Jareth the hottest vampire ever is sitting on MY bed. I wish I had a web cam so I could have recorded the momentous event.

"So the blood test has come back from the lab," he says, launching right into business. "And it's positive."

Gulp. Good thing he shut the door. If Mom heard the words "blood test" and "positive" in the same sentence she'd be carting me away to the clinic before I could explain we were talking vampires, not HIV.

I turn around in my chair to face him. "Positive for . . . ?"

"Wait a moment." Jareth studies me with his intense blue eyes. "Have you been crying?"

I scowl. Great. I should have kept my back turned. "No. Of course not. I'm not your typical crying type of girl. Now, tell me about the donor's blood."

Jareth frowns. "Your eyes look red."

"Allergies."

"And your makeup's smudged."

"I dig the Mary-Kate Olsen look, what can I say?"

Jareth shakes his head. He's so not buying any of this. "What's wrong, Rayne? What happened?"