Blood Orange Soda: Paranormal Romance (29 page)

“What happens if you get your ass whipped? What happens then? It’ll be open season on Goths and Emos.”

Damn! I never thought about what would happen to the club if I take a dive. It saves me from Bao’s blackmail and bullying, but I didn’t consider what losing the fight might mean to the other Emos and Goths. I’m in a tough spot, with no clear way out. Tandi stands and pulls her backpack from the floor onto her shoulder. There’s nothing I can say that will ease her concerns, or even my own, so I let her walk out of the classroom.

She stops at the doorway. “You didn’t hear this from me; if you have any more of that Soda, bring it to the party. The Vampire Club might need it.”

Wow, Tandi has given this far more thought than I expected. She’s concerned for the entire club. And despite Jack’s warning to me about not sharing the Soda, she has a pretty good backup plan.

“Thanks for the suggestion,” I say.

“I’d say good luck, but if you’re on Soda, I suppose you won’t need luck.”

I give her a confident nod and hope that she’s right.

Walking into Ms. Andreesen’s classroom early, I hand in a draft of my memoir assignment. She’s at her desk with her head down, reading and grading papers. It’s amazing how much homework teachers have each week. I slip my memoir out of my backpack and set it on the stack of papers.

She looks up over the rim of her glasses. “Darius, I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I’m a Vampire, in stealth mode,” I reply, and she’s not sure if I’m serious, so I say, “That’s a joke. We don’t really have a stealth mode.”

Well, Shelby does…

She laughs with relief. Normals never know how to respond to Vampire humor.

“You’ve finished the assignment?”

“Work in progress. My life over the past couple of months. And I’ve got a lot of living to do.”

“Have you learned anything from your writing?” she asks.

What have I learned? What wisdom could I gain from reading the pages of my own life? I was so busy typing it that I hadn’t searched for any meaning behind it.

“I dunno...life is hard?”

“High school life is challenging,” Ms. Andreesen says. “But many people look back on these years with fond memories.”

“Yeah, I hated middle school. There were parts of it I liked, though.”

“Once I finish reviewing your assignment I’ll hand it back. Go back and read what you wrote, and I’m encouraging you to continue writing about your life.”

“Why? My life sucks,” I say. “It’s mundane.”

“Everybody’s life is interesting, especially the life of a teenager who becomes a Vampire,” she says with a wink. She seems proud of me.

I feel myself blushing, and I hear students entering the classroom behind me. Saved by the bell again. I wonder why she wants me to continue writing about my life.

“Congratulations to both of you,” Ms. Andreesen says.

Shelby is sitting at her desk, obviously curious about what I’m doing here so early, and what I’m talking about with Ms. Andreesen.

“Congratulations?” I ask Ms. Andreesen.

“For your Transformation Party tonight. This is a big step. I think it’s wonderful that you’ve both invited Normals to join in the celebration. Some of the faculty will be there. I’ll see you both tonight.”

Walking back to my desk, I sit as the other students arrive, looking around the classroom, wondering how many of these kids will be at the party.

“What’s the head count on the party?” I whisper to Shelby

“Over 200 RSVPs. Awesome, right?”

“Yeah, cool,” I say, but it’s so over the top I feel my heart racing, nervous.

What have I gotten myself into?

My mom took the evening off from work because of the T-Party and to watch me run my first race. She’s upstairs in her bedroom talking on her phone, while I’m in the kitchen boxing up the last bottles of Blood Orange Soda. I’m hurrying so my mom doesn’t see what I’m doing, and I use duct tape to seal the box before I set it on the front step outside.

Alex and Marcus are in my room in the basement, fetching our band’s gear and carrying it out to Alex’s van. They’re both sweating and bickering as they lug amplifiers, cables, and lighting equipment upstairs and out onto the driveway. When they pass me, I lift up the box again and follow them to the van.

“What’s in the box?” Marcus asks.

“A gift for the Vampire Club,” I say. “Sort of a thank you.”

He looks back at the duct-taped box. “Nice wrapping paper.”

“It’s wrapped
inside
the box.” I set it in the back of the van and slide it forward, and the bottles inside clink together.

Alex reaches into the van and shakes the box. “You giving us beer?”

“No, of course not, it’s uh…”

“Fine china?” Marcus asks. “Stemware?”

“Waterford crystal bowls, perhaps?” Alex says to me in a British accent.

“What the hell do you two know about fine china and crystal?”

“Enough to know they go really good with beer,” Marcus says, with a deadpan expression on his pock-marked face.

They’re anxiously waiting for me to answer them, like two boys staring at the only present under the Christmas tree.

“No, I’m not spoiling the surprise,” I tell them. “Go! Deliver this stuff to Shelby’s.”

They run back into my house and search the basement one more time for a couple of foot pedals for Weezer’s amp, and return and jog back down the driveway, just as Jack pulls up in his white 1973 Porsche. He parks along the curb, steps out of his vehicle, and examines Alex and Marcus in the front seat of the van. They roar past him in a cloud of black exhaust. The back of the van is plastered with wakeboarding and snowboarding decals. I guess those Gamers do play outside once in a while.

“Who was that?” Jack says, walking up the driveway with his hands in his pockets and his gym bag over his shoulder.

“My crew,” I respond.

“Those featherweights?”

“A couple of them. I have others from the Vampire Club who will be at the party and the fight.”

Jack pulls in close and looks at the front door before saying, “Let’s talk about how you want it all to happen tonight. What time does Jonathan arrive?”

“Between 8:00 and 8:30. If I’m onstage when he arrives, then you watch out for him,” I say, and pull my phone out and surf to Jonathan’s Facebook page. “Here’s what he looks like.”

“I recognize him. I’ll talk with him until you’re ready to introduce him to your mom,” Jack says. “Once that happens, they’ll reminisce for a while. When are you planning to talk with him about helping your mom?”

“Later in the evening.”

“Don’t expect an answer from him right away. He’ll need time to think it over.”

It took years for my own dad to transform for the woman he loved. How could I really expect an answer tonight?

“I know,” I say to Jack. “At this point I’m just raising the question, what if he could save her? Then afterwards, I have to go to the railroad bridge to fight Bao.”

“I’ll run interference for that, too,” Jack says. “I’ll make sure your mom and Kira stay at the party. You nervous?”

I haven’t told him about my arrangement with Bao because I’m pretty sure he would disagree that I should let Bao win. I can’t risk it, though. Jack could be in huge trouble if he’s convicted for buying Blood Orange Soda from gangs and supplying it to a minor.

“I’m nervous, yeah.”

“You’ll win, but don’t win too big. Don’t take your aggression too far,” Jack says, patting me on the shoulder. “And this 5k race will relax you.”

“I’ve never raced before. I’m not sure how it all works.”

Jack shrugs. “I ran races when I was younger. Road races are simple. You line up with a crowd of other people and when the gun goes off, you run. Follow the people ahead of you. When you cross the finish line, they’ll tear a tag off your bib number and there’s food and drinks at the end.”

“Okay, I’ll find my place in the pack and follow everyone ahead of me.”

“I brought you a costume.”

“I’m not wearing a costume,” I say. “Nobody mentioned anything about—”

“Dude, this is the Halloween Haunt, when Normals get their freak on. You’ve got to wear a costume. I thought Goths liked dressing up.”

“We do, I mean, no, we don’t dress up, we dress down,” I say. “Black, minimalism. We’re not GAP kids, we’re Goth kids.”

Jack reaches into his gym bag and hands me black running tights and a black shirt. “Hold it up.”

Holding up the costume, I see it’s mostly black, with white on the front.

“Skeleton costume,” Jack says, laughing with pride. He hands me a hooded mask to go with it. The face of the skull is sinister. “Perfect, huh? You want to fit in, right?”

Standing at the front door, looking at my reflection on the storm window, I agree it’s a decently cool costume. The bones will make me look even skinnier than Weezer. I actually like it. He sees me smiling at my reflection.

“It was either this costume or Batman,” Jack says. “A Vampire wearing a Batman costume? Well, it’s just redundant.”

I’m wandering through a herd of runners in Halloween costumes, trying to pin my race number to the front of my own costume, which I’m sure looks ridiculous because I’m nothing but bones and a race number. Shelby’s dad is dressed like a Zombie runner, which actually looks very authentic, and he keeps nudging me to move up to the front with the faster runners.

“Go up there. Only joggers back here,” Mr. Rork says.

“I’ve never raced before—”

“All the young athletes are up front, Darius. Get up there.”

Moving up, I elbow past runners who are stretching and notice my counselor, Mr. Striefland. He’s dressed in a classic prisoner’s jumpsuit, with black and white stripes. An ironic choice for a guidance counselor trying to keep students off the street. He doesn’t recognize me in my skeleton costume, so I call to him.

“Mr. Striefland!” I wave.

He moves forward. “Darius?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” I pull my mask off.

“Great costume, Darius,” Mr. Striefland says. “Good luck!”

“You too,” I reply.

I jostle through the smelly, nervous herd of runners and the closer to the front, the fewer costumes I see. These are the real athletes, the ones who are here to race, not celebrate Halloween. In front of them there’s a separate group of elites, maybe fifteen men and women in spandex tights and shirts with sponsor logos. I stay at the front of the pack with the regular runners.

A woman dressed as Elvira, Mistress of the Dark (yawn!) is the official race starter. When she fires the gun, we’re off. At first I feel a lot of elbows and arms bumping into me, as we all try to find our free space on the road. I surge ahead to escape injury, and I find myself between the elite runners ahead and the regular runners behind me.

The Halloween Haunt 5k is a road race that starts in the parking lot of St. Cloud State University. The course winds through residential streets and crosses the Mississippi River before we eventually make our way back and finish on the university track. In theory, that works great. And I’m sure the person who designed the course chose the route for its scenery; but what he or she neglected to check is the train schedule, because a mile into the race, we approach railroad tracks.