Southern Exposure Read online

  Chapter 3

  I had ceased any kind of breathing even before entering the ladies room, but it wasn't enough, so I rinsed my mouth out with water desperately trying to dilute the gripping aroma. It wasn't long before two girls came in. They looked at me strangely as if they didn't want whatever it was I had. I slid back into the isolation of one of the stalls.

  "She must have eaten the tuna salad," one of the girls whispered. "Aren't you glad you listened to me?"

  "Should we tell one of the teachers?"

  "Nah, she'll be okay."

  "Was that Cathy? She looked different than I remember."

  "With that hair, are you kidding? She's some new girl."

  "I haven't seen her around town, you?"

  "No, guess she must have just moved in."

  "Lucky her, right? Can you believe the hair?" Their voices faded toward the door and disappeared.

  Rinsing my mouth out and the fact I wasn't breathing began to help. The intoxicating scent was fading. I was relieved and sad at the same time, which made no sense at all.

  What's wrong with my hair? I thought. Who was I kidding, I hated it. It was so thick that even in a ponytail it stood out larger than my head. I'd cut it recently, but it grew back within days—a vampire thing, something to do with how you looked when you died. Still, they didn't have to be cruel. That had happened before, I puzzled, two girls, it was cold, my hair was in a ponytail and they were laughing, teasing, saying it looked like I had two heads. The door groaned, as someone else came into the bathroom. The memory was gone.

  A few other girls came and went before I felt I could venture out of my porcelain refuge. I had History next and it was in the opposite direction of the cafeteria. If I could just make it around the corner in the hall, I should be far enough away from whomever it was that I could cope. I slowly opened the stall door, which naturally made a loud, ghostly squeal, and peeked out into the empty room. As I slipped out of the stall, the scent came blasting through the door vent like it had been waiting to pounce. I staggered back into the tiny stall.

  By the time I regained any semblance of composure the bell rang. It was obvious I was in no condition to venture out into the sea of humanity. History would have to wait until tomorrow. The question, was I done for the day? I decided to try and wait it out. Besides, going home early would play into Elizabeth's notion that school was impossible. It seemed that after half an hour or so, there were no lingering effects. Still, what was it? What manner of human had that kind of magnetism? I wondered if other vampires would experience the same intense thirst. Was this human destined to be a victim? Perhaps I was just overwhelmed at the time. That must be it I decided. After all, I'd never had the kind of difficulty around humans the others described. It was all just too much. I overloaded. Still, there was something about this particular scent I couldn't escape. Even now, when the alluring aroma had completely faded, it remained in me, all through my body, a scent against which all others would now be compared. I shuddered at the thought of paltry deer blood.

  The bell rang, making History, well, history. I cautiously ventured out into the hall—not bad. I was surprised to find that the muddled human scent that I'd been resisting the entire day was completely gone; but in it's place, the ever so faint new aroma. The school's ventilating system had dispersed it, but it wasn't difficult for me to tell the individual had passed this way. Unfortunately, it looked like my next class was in the same direction. It was much more difficult to ignore the single scent than it had been to deal with the muddled mass, but I had to try. I could always retreat back into the bathroom, if necessary. According to my floor plan, I needed to go through the crowded center of the school to the far end of the opposite hall, near the gym. I guess it made perfect sense that if Mr. Singleton was the coach, then his classroom would be near the gym. I put my head down, refrained from breathing and headed for Software Apps.

  Once I entered the classroom, I quickly claimed a desk near the back of the room and settled down behind the computer monitor. There were a lot of different monitors, in various sizes, but they were all large enough to conceal the students behind them. I seemed to be sitting behind one of the larger ones.

  "Hey, you," a sharp voice said, "you're in my seat."

  One of Derrick's crew, I recognized from the hallway, was leering at me.

  "No, your stuff wasn't here," I replied, remembering what Cathy had said about holding your ground.

  "Dude," a boy yelled from one row up, "I saved you a spot up here."

  The boy smiled. "You're still so dead." He grunted and went to join his friend.

  He had no idea.

  Mr. Singleton rolled his chair into the room from an adjacent office, a phone tucked between his ear and shoulder. "We'll get started in a minute. Don't touch anything. We have some new rules this year." He rolled back into the office. It was quiet for a moment, and then everyone started whispering. It sounded like the two boys in front of me were talking about Cathy.

  "No way that's Cathy. I heard she just got out of the hospital."

  "Again?" The other boy questioned.

  "Yeah, she spent most of the summer in the psych ward. We'd only been out of school for like a week when her old lady had to call 911."

  "Why?"

  "Cut herself again."

  "That's freakin' gross."

  "So, if she's not Cathy, then who is she?"

  "I don't know. Who cares anyway? She's just another freakin' Emo."

  "I guess." The boy leaned closer to his friend and lowered his voice even more. "Still, she's kind of hot, don't you think?"

  "You kiddin' me? You askin' her out?"

  "No," the boy recoiled, "just sayin'."

  "Sorry about the delay class, problems scheduling our first scrimmage. I'm Mr. Singleton, but around here they call me Coach."

  "We already know that, Coach." A girl up front complained.

  "I just though I'd put that out there for our new student. Izzy, would you stand up, please. Everyone, this is Izzy Faulkner."

  Heads emerged from behind the computer monitors, their necks straining to quench their curiosity before sinking back out of sight. The class was about a fifty-fifty split, girls and boys, I'd managed to put myself with the boys. The girls were primarily up front. My whole back of the class thing just wasn't working out.

  "Thank you Izzy, you may be seated. Alright, here's the way this is going to work this year…"

  As Coach continued, I stared down at the keyboard. This was familiar. I held my hands out and placed my fingers over the home keys. Yes, I'd used a computer before. The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog, I remembered, making the motions with my fingers, but the keyboard lacked a time or place. It was just a random object linked to nothing. Mr. Singleton gave us a sheet of computer-oriented questions to answer so he could get a feel for our familiarity with the lingo. I knew all the answers, which surprised me. The bell suddenly rang.

  "Okay class, that's it for today. Remember the first scrimmage game is this Saturday and you get extra credit for coming to the games. See you tomorrow."

  Like in all my other classes—except Latin—there was a mad scramble for the door. I'd made it through the first day, with the exception of History. I figured that was key. The first day had to be the most difficult. I'd had no epiphany, but there were a few things, the keyboard and the mountains. They seemed totally unrelated, inconsequential, but maybe they were something to build on. I looked up as the boy whom claimed I stole his seat passed, leering at me, but I didn't care. Besides, according to Cathy, they'd leave me alone now. Yes, all-in-all it was a successful day.