Vampire Love Story (19 page)

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Authors: H. T. Night

BOOK: Vampire Love Story
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When I walked up to the attendance office and opened the door, I thought I was going to have a heart attack. There she was just sitting there. Sarah Davis was sitting at a table with her father. Our eyes met. She seemed to recognize me. I completely forgot where I was, or why I was even in the office as I gazed into her eyes.

Why wasn’t she in class? Why was she so late? That wasn’t important. All that mattered was that she was sitting in the attendance office.

“Did you go to every single class, dear?” the secretary asked.

“Huh?” I said, coming back to reality.

“Did you go to every classroom?” she repeated.

“Oh yes. I sure did, ma’am.”

“Great, if you can hand me all the sheets, you can show Sarah where her class is. She is also in Mrs. Phyllis’s classroom.”

She didn’t have to tell me that. I knew that better than anyone in the entire school.

“Sure,” I said, trying not to sound too excited. But I was thrilled. I couldn’t believe it. Here I was standing right in front of the girl that I had thought about all summer long.

I studied her features while her dad finished signing some papers. To me, she was perfect. She had a perfectly shaped head. She looked at me and smiled. Her eyes were greener than what I remembered. I smiled back. This was crazy. I didn’t even know this girl. Why did I like her so much?

She stood and kissed her dad on the cheek, then walked over toward me.

“Are you ready to go?” I said.

“Yes, I am,” she said softly.

Wow, we did it. We spoke to each other. Her voice was incredible. Very sweet, it sounded just like Mrs. Phyllis’ voice.

“Why was your dad filling out papers?” I asked. I totally did not know what to say, but this seemed like a good place to start.

“We moved. So he needed to change our address on papers and stuff,” she said, giving me a smile that about made me faint on the spot.

“Where did you move to?” I asked, trying to push the conversation forward.

“Closer to the school,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Where exactly do you live?” I hope I didn’t sound too pushy.

“In the housing track right in front of the school,” she said, laughing.

I laughed, too. I had no idea what we were laughing about, but it seemed to make things easier. Before I knew it, we were right in front of the classroom. I didn’t want to go in. I wanted to stay out in the hall and talk to her forever.

“This is it,” I said as I opened the door for her. She walked in and I followed. I went to my seat and she went to talk to Mrs. Phyllis.

“Where did you go?” my sister asked quietly.

“I’ll tell you later,” I whispered.

My mind was still on Sarah. She said she lived in the housing track in front of the school. I lived in the same housing track. Things could not get better. I wondered how close she lived to me. I watched her walk toward her marked desk and sit down. I was at a perfect angle to see her profile. With that view, the rest of the day seemed to go by pretty fast.

When school let out, I kept an eye out for Sarah so I could watch where she went, but her dad came and picked her up. Oh well, it was just the first day of school.

Timmy and Blayne came over to my house that evening and we played video games. They kept on complaining about already having homework.

All I could do was laugh at them. One day ago, I was down in the dumps and these two were on top of the world. How quickly things changed.

Maybe this school year wasn’t going to be bad after all. I decided that having Mrs. Phyllis as a teacher and having Sarah in my class was going to make it a great year.

 

 

 

Also available on Amazon Kindle:

GETTING YOURS!

(a screenplay)

 

by

 

H.T. NIGHT

 

(read on for a sample)

 

A story told in the tradition of
American Pie
and
Something About Mary.

 

FADE IN:

INT. PICK-UP TRUCK – NIGHT
CHAD WALKER, 20, clean-cut and all-American, is sitting alone in his beat-up 1982 Ford Courier truck, staring at a wilted, pitiful YELLOW ROSE. Chad looks to his right and shakes his head; sitting in the passenger seat is a giant stuffed rabbit.
EXT. PETE’S BISTRO PARKING LOT – NIGHT
Chad gets out of his truck and puts the yellow rose in his back pocket. He walks up to an all-night diner called Pete’s Bistro.
INT. PETE’S BISTRO – NIGHT

Chad walks over to his brother BRUCE, who’s sitting at a booth. Bruce, 23, is a slightly older version of Chad.

BRUCE

So what’s going on? You look like shit.

CHAD

Thanks man, I appreciate it. I need to talk.

BRUCE

What’s up?

An older, career waitress walks up.

WAITRESS

Boys ready to order?

CHAD

I’ll just have a Coke.

BRUCE

Basket of wings and a large shake.

Waitress leaves.

BRUCE (CONT’D)

Not hungry?

CHAD

I’m not in the mood to eat.

BRUCE

Oh, this should be good.

Chad pulls out a yellow rose from his back pocket, places it on the table.

BRUCE (CONT’D)

(referring to the yellow rose)

You shouldn’t have.

CHAD

It’s not for you.

BRUCE

You’re walking around with yellow roses in your pocket? You haven’t turned Nancy on me, have you?

CHAD

Not quite.

BRUCE

What’s the deal with the rose?

CHAD

That’s why I’m here.

BRUCE

You want to discuss floral arrangements?

CHAD

I need your advice about a girl.

Bruce sits up proudly.

BRUCE

Alright. Give it to me. But, make it quick. I’m getting a rub and tug in a half hour.

CHAD

Seriously? I’m sure Mings House of Massage will be there tomorrow.

BRUCE

Fine, let’s hear your problem.

CHAD

Okay, I’ve been rehearsing this play over at the college.

BRUCE

Another play? I thought you were through with that?

CHAD

Eric wrote another script and asked me to be in it.

BRUCE

You trust that asshole after the last one?

CHAD

What was wrong with the last one?

BRUCE

He had you play a Gay Nazi.

CHAD

It wasn’t that bad.

BRUCE

That falls in love with an 85 year old transvestite?

CHAD

It wasn’t your typical love story.

BRUCE

You made out with an old man!

CHAD

It was in the script.

BRUCE

You’re supposed best friend wrote a script that had you gumming an 85 year drag queen for five minutes.

CHAD

It wasn’t five minutes.

BRUCE

It felt like five years.

(a beat)

You know mom still cries out in her sleep.

CHAD

I told her not to show up.

BRUCE

She brought her church group....

CHAD

I told her to stay at home.

ERIC

...and her bridge club.

CHAD

I told her that there might be questionable things in the play.

BRUCE

Questionable? You DRY HUMPED an old man in front of Sister Margaret.

EXT. THEATER AUDITORIUM – FLASHBACK – NIGHT

CUT TO:

Quick cut to Chad’s mother, Sister Margaret, her bridge club, and a group of nuns in an audience looking on in horror.

CUT TO:

Chad, on stage wearing a World War 2 Nazi uniform, dry humping an 85 year old Transvestite, wearing a ball gag, DOGGY STYLE.

INT. PETE’S BISTRO – PRESENT – NIGHT

BRUCE

Mom wasn’t the only one who had nightmares.

CHAD

May I continue?

BRUCE

Is this one normal?

CHAD

I wouldn’t say that.

BRUCE

What does Eric have you doing?

CHAD

I play a sex-addicted ventriloquist who falls in love with his dummy rabbit.

BRUCE

Now, you’re just messing with me, right?

CHAD

Nope.

BRUCE

Why do you do it man? (a beat) Are there any love scenes with the rabbit?

CHAD

Just one.

BRUCE

They are going to have to take mom out on a stretcher.

CHAD

She’s not coming!

BRUCE

She’ll get excommunicated.

CHAD

(continuing)

Okay...there is this really hot woman in the play.

BRUCE

What’s the problem?

CHAD

She is a bit older.

BRUCE

(skeptical)

How much older?

CHAD

She plays my mom in the show.

BRUCE

Your mom? What is she? Fifty?

CHAD

She’s thirty-four.

BRUCE

So she had you when she was fifteen?

Nice.

CHAD

Her character is forty-eight.

BRUCE

So she looks old?

CHAD

She’s hotter than any of those two a.m. skanks you meet at the club.

BRUCE

Maybe I should just hit up the local convalescent home for a date like you.

CHAD

She’s not that old.

BRUCE

Better yet, I’ll TiVO Golden Girls tonight.

BRUCE gestures WHACKING OFF.

CHAD

...why don’t you just continue to drop hundred dollar bills on that Cambodian refugee at Ming’s House of Massage.

BRUCE

Hey, Shamnang has had a hard life.

CHAD

I bet she has.

BRUCE

Okay. You have the hots for a forty-eight year old. Go on.

CHAD

She’s thirty-four!

BRUCE

Thirty-four. Got it.

CHAD

Alright. Even though Eric wrote the Play, I had to formally audition.

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