Eleventh Grade Burns(42)

Besides, Meredith was safer not being around him. She was safer with Joss.

October pulled up and honked her horn, and suddenly it felt like everyone in the world but Vlad had their own car. Shouting a quick goodbye to Nelly, Vlad bolted out the door. He piled into the back with Sprat and Andrew, and with a jerk, October managed to get the car into gear and drove them all into Stokerton, music blaring on the radio, dashboard lights making Kristoff’s silver hair glow slightly blue. By the time they pulled up in front of The Crypt, Vlad was feeling much better about missing out on Matthew’s party. Once they stepped inside and descended into the club, he’d forgotten that Matthew was even holding a party.

The entire room was decorated in red and black, with hundreds of tiny, fuzzy bats hanging from the ceiling. The normally empty picture frames on the wall held artwork depicting famous vampires: Dracula, Count Chocula, the Count from Sesame Street, and more. And everyone—everyone but Vlad, that is—was dressed as stereotypical vampires. Some wore capes, some dressed in Victorian finery, but every single one of them had a pair of fangs. Vlad smiled and let his own fangs slip from their hiding place behind his gums. No wonder he loved it here.

Standing by the bar was Snow, dressed in a slinky black dress, with a small silver bat hanging from a chain around her pale neck—pater than usual, which Vlad attributed to rice powder. Her black hair was pinned up, with several loose curls hanging down, brushing lightly against her skin. She smiled at him and he smiled back.

October tapped him on the shoulder and said, “Tell her, Vlad. If you’re not interested, tell her tonight ... or I will.”

After debating just what to say for several minutes, Vlad walked over to Snow and said, “Having fun?”

Snow could barely contain a grin. “Good music, my favorite night of the year, room full of vampires ... I’m having a blast.”

“Can we talk?” Vlad swallowed a lump in his throat. “Outside?”

Snow nodded, taking Vlad’s hand in hers, leading him to the back door. When she touched him, he secretly reveled in her warmth. He could get used to this feeling, Snow’s skin against his. But didn’t Snow deserve better than a beast who only wanted her for what she could give him? That wasn’t a relationship. That was a tragedy waiting to happen. He slipped his hand from hers and avoided her questioning glance.

No. He couldn’t get used to it, to any of it. He was getting too close to Snow for her own good.

As they passed October, she handed Snow her jacket and shot Vlad a look that said she meant business. It turned out while guys would not only stand by and watch as their friend volunteered to help out the lion tamer, and hand him a steak as he was entering the cage, girls were fiercely protective of their friends. Vlad couldn’t ever imagine threatening a girl’s life for making out with Henry. Besides, that would be a lot of girls, and Vlad wasn’t sure he could even remember all their names, let alone threaten them with bodily harm for making Henry grin like an idiot. As far as he was concerned, Henry could make out with anybody he wanted. Except for Meredith. And maybe Snow.

They stepped outside and Vlad’s fangs throbbed within his mouth, as if they’d become accustomed to feeding in the cold. It wasn’t why he’d come here, but his body, that monster that lurked within him, known only as thirst, reacted immediately.

She smiled at Vlad once the door closed, sealing them off from the club. “You’ve been really hungry lately.”

“It’s not that. I mean, it is, but we need to talk.” His eyes found her neck and that delicious blue vein. At once he was seized by hunger, all sense and reason gone, lost in his blood-thirst. “Maybe it’s better if I feed first.”

“Why? Worried whatever you have to say to me will make feeding awkward?”

Vlad blinked, tearing his gaze away from her neck. It would make it easier to focus on the conversation at hand. A little, anyway. Her tone sounded hurt, as if she already knew what he was going to say, that they should just be friends, that the feeding sessions didn’t mean he had any real feelings for her. Her cheeks flushed, and Vlad couldn’t tell if it was out of anger or embarrassment.

“Snow . . . we’re friends, right? I mean, you’re my drudge, but that’s it, right? Just my drudge? Just my friend? You don’t think we’re . . .” But the look in her eyes said it all—she didn’t view him as just a friend. October was right. Snow had a crush on him. A big-time crush. And what’s worse, Vlad wasn’t entirely sure she was the only one with attachment issues.