“W-where’s Taisha?” I gasp out, my heart hammering my rib cage so hard the bones might crack. The space is dark, but enough light leaks in that I can make out my sworn rival’s terrified expression.
“I don’t know,” Lucas snaps, bracing himself against the door. “I think she stayed with the ASU kids when we got separated. Why the hell did you trap us in a room without a lock?”
“I didn’t trap us anywhere.” He’s making me wish I’d stayed with the vampires. “You followed me, remember? And how was I supposed to know this door doesn’t lock?”
Lucas lets out a grunting breath and rubs his face. “The other rooms down here are offices...it might not be too late to sneak out and—” He’s interrupted by a scream from up the hallway, frighteningly close, and then the blood-curdling sounds of some pretty hideous violence. His eyes bulge, and his voice becomes a terrified squeak. “And now we’re stuck here! I could die in a supply closet, thanks to you!”
“You’re welcome to leave anytime,” I rasp through my teeth.
I’m worried about Taisha. She’s tough, but none of us have ever faced a full-scale attack before. I hope she did stay with the ASU kids; Miyu’s dad was part of the recession-era vamp hunting squad, and I know he taught her some tricks.
“How did they even get in here?” Lucas demands. “Vampires need an invitation to enter any non-public building, and Harbor Haven is privately owned!”
“You saw them—it’s a whole pack of bros. Most of them probably belong to this fucking place.” Only, even as I say it, I know it doesn’t totally make sense. In order to Turn into one of the undead, a person has to actually die first and stay that way for at least twenty-four hours; after that, their fatal vulnerability to sunlight pretty much keeps them out of regular circulation. There’s a lot of vamps here tonight, and Orchard Bay is small enough that we’d have noticed that many missing people. So, either they’ve been lying dormant for years, gathering numbers, or...and when it hits me, I actually smack my forehead. “The banner.”
Strung across the entrance to the club, a giant banner greets everyone who arrives tonight with an enormous message: Welcome, One and All, to the Orchard East Homecoming Dance! Harbor Haven might be members only, and the school might require tickets for admission, but Welcome, One and All, is a loophole big enough to fit a dozen thirsty vampires through—and the homecoming committee put it right there outside the front doors. Even though we can’t stand each other, Lucas and I share a look and roll our eyes, because Julie.
A moment passes before Lucas speaks again, his tone full of disdain. “I can’t believe you were making out with a bro.”
“Hey! He mesmerized me, okay?” I’m indignant, my cheeks heating up. Along with their immortality and other superpowers, vamps also have this special pheromone thing that they use to subdue their prey. It triggers a chemical response that makes people docile and swoony and compliant, so that even if you live in a vampire town and you’re naturally suspicious of bros, a pretty face with dreamy gray-blue eyes can still render you helpless. “I was in a trance!”
“I can’t believe you’ve lived in Orchard Bay your whole life and you still don’t know how to avoid being mesmerized.”
I bite my tongue on what I really want to say, but what comes out as a result is what I really, really don’t want to say. “I was lonely, all right?”
Immediately, I hate myself for admitting it out loud. It’s exactly the kind of thing enemies love to hear, but Lucas just huffs out this weird breath. “How is that possible? You’ve got, like, a billion friends.”
“You’re the one with a billion friends.” My tone is unattractively sullen. Everybody loves Lucas—teachers, directors, the other drama kids—and there are days I think I’m losing my mind because I’m the only one who sees how fake he is.
“Oh, please! You’re always the center of attention at rehearsals, you’re always making people laugh...even Mr. Lutjen likes you better than me.” He’s talking about the director of the fall show, and making no sense. “‘Austin, your line delivery is perfect!’ ‘Austin, your instincts are spot-on!’ ‘Austin, if you didn’t exist, we would have to invent you!’”
Although his attempt at Mr. Lutjen’s Dutch accent is satisfyingly awful, the quotes are all real. And yet. “He still picked you for the lead over me.”
“Yeah, well, I’m a better actor,” Lucas snits, without even trying to make it sound like a joke.
I’m so outraged I swear I feel a blood vessel burst open in my eyeball. Thanks to my brain/mouth divorce, I’m once again saying exactly what I shouldn’t. “Are you kidding? You can’t even figure out how to act straight!”
I regret it immediately, of course. There’s not a single person in the drama club who doesn’t think Lucas is gay—well, except for Jenna Holcomb, who thinks they’re going to get married someday, and we all cringe when she brings it up—but nobody says it out loud.
Everybody likes Lucas too much to talk about him behind his back, and everybody feels bad for him on account of his older brother getting eaten by a vampire at prom four years ago, so no matter how blatantly he checks out Katie’s older brother when he picks her up from rehearsal, everyone agrees not to notice it.
“Screw you.” Lucas turns his face away from me, but his breathing thickens, and I can just see the silvery glimmer of a tear when it rolls down his cheek. I am the worst possible person.
“I’m sorry.” I hate saying it, though, because I still can’t forget our first encounter. “I didn’t... I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Screw you, Austin Klein,” he reiterates, getting angrier. “Everything’s so easy for you, isn’t it? Making friends, getting laughs, flirting with whoever the hell you want. You don’t even stop to think about it, do you? You just do whatever and it all falls into place!”
“Yup, exactly. My life is perfect.” I hurl it back at him, louder than I should, and I check myself. All the screaming from down the hall is loud enough to drown out a marching band, let alone our bickering, but it’s better safe than sorry. “I’m trapped in the closet with a homophobe because everything just ‘falls into place’ for Austin Klein.”
His shock is almost palpable. “Ho—homophobe? Did you just call me a homophobe? How dare—”
“‘I’m not like you,’” I interrupt, mimicking the same mordant tone he’d used the day we met. “I told you I thought your outfit was cute, and you glared at me like I was a sex criminal. Then you said, ‘I’m not like you.’”
For a moment, Lucas struggles to find his voice, and when he does his tone is haughty. “You weren’t really talking about my outfit.”