Page 120 of The Last Vampire
Salma ignores me in classes again, so at lunchtime I make myself a quick sandwich, and I hurry back to our room to eat it. Maybe there’s a special passcode I need to write for the ink to reveal itself.
I flip past the first few pages, which are scarred with my earlier attempts, and pick an unblemished page. I write:Vampires.
The text just stays there, and nothing happens. So I turn the page and try:William Pride.
Same thing.
I flip the page so roughly that I cut my skin on the thick paper. “Shit,” I murmur as a drop of blood smudges the white canvas.
As I suck my finger clean, the red stain is absorbed by the paper.
I stare with wide eyes at the impeccably blank surface—
The door’s lock clicks, and I shut the book. Then I slide my copy ofDraculaon top of it, right as Tiffany walks inside.
“Hey,” she says, leaning against the doorway. It’s still jarring to see her styled so natural and low-key, without makeup or heels. “You good?”
“I’m fine. Shouldn’t you be at lunch?”
“It’s over. Class starts in a few minutes.”
“Then why are you here?” I ask, stuffing my books into my bag and avoiding her gaze.
“Because you don’t seemfine.”
“We both know how you feel about me,” I say, sliding my arms through my bag’s straps. “Why are you pretending to care?”
“Salma told me what really happened at that party. I’m sorry for what I said about you. I didn’t know the full story.”
I don’t immediately respond. The fact that Salma shared one of our biggestsecrets with Tiffany makes me feel like our fight has crossed a point of no return.
“Why didn’t you or your mom explain what really happened?” Tiffany prods, ever the reporter sniffing out a story.
“You got what you wanted. Salma is your best friend now. Congratulations.” I try reaching for the door handle, but Tiffany blocks it with her body.
“I get that you’re hurting, but Salma is, too. You’re both clearly miserable without one another, and neither of you is handling this break well.”
“What exactly has she told you about ourbreak?” I ask.
“She hasn’t. She told me it’s private between the two of you”—good to know some things still are—“but I think it’s time you hash it out. Or those lines on your forehead could become permanent.”
“Thanks for your concern. Can I go now?”
“Look,” she says, sucking in a big breath like she has a lot to say, and I already know I don’t want to hear it. “You have no reason to trust me. But I thought after helping you get ready for the dance, you would see that I’m trying to start over.”
“I don’t want to start over,” I say, reaching around her to hook my hand on the door handle. “I’m fine with how things are.”
Then I stomp past her and bolt down the stairs.
ALL THROUGHmy afternoon classes, I fixate on the green book in my bag.What does it mean that it absorbed my blood?
By the time I get to English, I can barely sit still. I’m just one hour away from finding an empty corner and continuing my experiments with the blank pages.
My gaze snags on the only empty chair in the room, the one in the front row where William once sat. I never thought to ask him what he thought ofDraculaafter handing him the book in the library. I wish I could hear his opinions now and ask him questions about the mythology. I wish I could tell him about the green book and how it drank my blood—
“Stop reading, please,” says Minaro, and I realize I’ve been on the same page the full forty-five minutes.
She comes around to the front of her desk. “We have been discussing Jonathan Harker and Dracula, but by now you should also have met Lucy and Mina. We already heard from Lorena and Salma on this matter a couple of days ago, so I will ask the rest of you: What do you make of them?”
