Blood Orange Soda: Paranormal Romance Read Free Page B

non-Vamp category. I wouldn’t expect her to have any great insights into Vamp behavior, but it’s interesting that she finds all the stealing sad . She’s at least sympathetic instead of angry about it.
    Weezer jumps down from the staircase. “Did either of you meet that new Goth girl at school yet?”
    “Shelby Rork?” Angel asks.
    “Yeah,” Weezer says. “She’s hot.”
    “Is she a V-Goth?” I ask.
    “She’s not a wannabe who dresses the part, if that’s what you mean,” Angel says. “Half the guys in school want her. If you want her too, get in line.”
    If this new girl is a real, pre-Vampire Goth, that would be big news in our school. A lot of kids dress the part, but only a small minority of us are on the Reds and have the potential to transform into Vampires.
    “What class is she?” I ask.
    “Sophomore,” Angel says. “A lot of the junior and senior football guys are already stalking her.”
    “Fresh meat,” Weezer says. “Why can’t those mofugs date girls their own age?”
    “Mofugs?” I ask Weezer.
    “Mother-fuggars. Duh.”
    “High school guys always date down,” Angel says. “Sorry, it’s the truth.”
    “I don’t date down,” I respond sarcastically, thinking about the summer I’d dated Angel.
    “We don’t date at all,” Weezer says with fake pride, but I know he regrets it as much as I do.
    “All I’m saying is don’t underestimate upperclassmen,” Angel says. “Girls like Shelby date older guys.”
    Weezer nods at me, because neither of us has had a girlfriend in a while. We’ve admitted to each other that we’d kill to have one, but I never thought we’d compete for the same girl. It just never crossed my mind.
    Now there’s a new girl in school, and that could change everything. If she’s Goth, she’s probably on the Red pill like Weezer and me, which means she’s deciding if she wants to be a Vamp. And it also means she’s holding back raging hormones like the rest of us. I can’t wait to meet this Shelby Rork.

Friday, October 10
    I’m late for school, which is really my modus operandi , according to the security guard at my school. Jogging along the railroad tracks, I trip on the rocks with my backpack slung over my shoulder.
    In this digital age, why are textbooks getting heavier?
    Winded, I slow to a fast walk so I don’t sweat too much before class. Mom is angry because she had to wake me up after her shift, and she knows I ignored Kira last night because Kira admitted she’d been up until dawn reading another Vampire novel. How come girls read that trash? It’s all fantasy, and none of the reality of what it’s like to live as a real Vampire. Transforming is hard. It’s not all love and romance like you might read in a book like Twilight or see on TV. If I run into another Normal girl named Bella, I swear I’ll lose my freaking mind!
    The open field, which is more prairie than a useable practice turf, crunches under my boots from early morning frost. I like how the sun warms my skin, yet I pull my black shades off my head to protect my eyes. I’m not yet a Vamp who fears daylight. If I choose to stop taking the Red pill and transform, then the sun and I will be enemies; but for now I enjoy its radiant warmth. These are the kind of trade-offs Vampire Goth consider as they decide on whether to live as Normals, or to stop taking the Reds and transform naturally into a full-blooded Vampire.
    Security at Stearns County High is tighter than a choke collar, and I should know because sometimes I wear one. I run my backpack through a scanner while an old sheriff’s deputy named Denny glares at me. I nod politely as I remove my metal bracelets and my skull and cross necklace, but it’s the rosary I pull from my pocket that surprises him.
    “Hey, Denny, ‘sup?” I say.
    “Late ‘cause you were at church this morning?” Denny asks, with forced sarcasm.
    “Yep, Our Lady of the Bedside.”
    “How about that blood bank robbery the other