Totally a Vampire Thing || ONC 2024 ||

Chapter 1. It's Different This Time. Trust Me.

The Delys High's cafeteria was emptying, and only three of Cruz's buddies remained at the jock's table with him—a perfect setup for my latest plan to capture his attention. Alas, everyone at our misfits' table had just voted against it, including Esha. When I desperately needed her, my BFF since grade six, on my side. Without her help, the prom of my dreams would remain just that. A dream.

"I'm not doing anything stupid, I swear!" I kissed my teeth in search of a killer argument. "I need a conversation starter, that's all. Look, I pass Cruz so often in the hallways, even the lockers must have clued in by now! But he mumbles a 'hello' and rushes away. This is my last shot at the prom date with a nice guy, okay?"

"Zoe." Esha adjusted her glasses for emphasis. "Zoe, you're ranting."

"But it doesn't feel like he's rejecting me! If he actually stopped for a few seconds, we could—"

"Why, why are you even stuck on this guy? Why?" she lamented.

"Because he has those eyes!" Heat rushed into my face. "It's like he's always smiling, but they're tinged with sadness. And... and also he has cheeks to die for."

Esha tilted herself parallel to the floor. Holy crap!

"For the sake of all that is holy! I meant his cheekbones, Esha. Cheekbones, not butts." I squirmed enough to drill a hole in the plastic seat of my chair.

"Cruz is a very fine male specimen, but that's immaterial. He'll never go out with you after Dylan's BS."

I squawked. "That was months ago!"

"Long, torturous months, Zoe, during which the five of us had no social life to speak of. Allow us the opportunity to at least partake in the prom. I hear it's an important rite of passage for the freshmen."

"Will you give it a rest already?" I muttered.

Yes, my friends stood by me against the popular crowd. Was it how I survived Dylan-inflicted heartbreak and the follow-up shaming? Absolutely. I was grateful, no question. But another talk about it was totally unnecessary.

"Dylan's been skipping school for three weeks and everyone says he's going to drop out. Nobody cares about him anymore." And nobody cared about me in the first place, before he noticed me.

"Right, and that's how we want it. Hence, don't stir the beehive by lusting after another jerk. History shall not repeat itself."

"It won't! That's my point!" Couldn't she see the truth? "Cruz isn't like Dylan at all."

Esha shrugged one pointy shoulder. "How so? He's a quarterback. Dylan is—was—a quarterback."

The lunch-break was basically over, and we were debating team sports! Tears of frustration stung my eyes. "Fine, they both play football. Lots of guys do."

She stared at me, wide-eyes, as if trying to say, do I really need to spell it out for you? "You have a type, Zoe. Face it. Own it. Admit it."

"Let me guess. My type is a quarterback...any quarterback?"

"Duh."

The absurdity of it! "They're completely different people!"

"Look up denial in a dictionary, Zoe. I feel, it might help."

"Guys like Dylan are full of piss and bluster," I argued. "All they care about is scoring during the game and getting into the girl's pants when they're not playing. Cruz is not like that. He's so remote! No, that's not right. He is..."

I stammered, trying to encapsulate Cruz's charm in one word.

"Haughty?" Esha suggested in her straight-A student voice.

Wrong again. How could someone so smart be so consistently wrong? "Not haughty. Otherworldly. Yup, that's what he is. Otherworldly!"

"Otherworldly," Esha mouthed and rolled her eyes heavenward. "Other-frigging-wordly...Girls! Help!" She turned to others, who slipped to the farthest end of the table while we were dunking it out. If she got them on-board...

I had one ace left up my sleeve, and I had to use it. If not now, then when?

"Esha," I said with conviction I didn't feel. "I promise, if Cruz doesn't invite me today, that's it. I'll go to the prom alone. I won't look at boys until our senior year. I'll even go out with your cousin. Just...will you help me right now, please? All you need to do is yell my name and say I forgot my bag. Pretty please?"

My breath hitched after this speech. The rest should work, because it always worked in the movies. As long as Esha started the chain reaction of the events, the ending would be happy.

She heaved a sigh so deep, it stirred the ruffles on her collar. "Okay."

"Esha, ple—"

Wait a minute! She actually said yes! Technically, it was okay in a doubtful tone, but I'd take it!

"No takesies-backsies!" I pushed from my chair, making an awful scraping sound on the floor. A cup of coffee I gripped in my hands shook in time with my thumping heart. Did I just ruin everything with my usual clumsiness?

Thankfully, the cafeteria was still noisy, so nobody was looking at me. Yay!

"I'm going," I said and loosened the lid on my coffee cup.

"She's going." Esha fanned herself. "Girls, girls, just look at this. She's actually doing it!"

"Oh!" my four other friends groaned in unison, their half-eaten sandwiches and bananas forgotten. "Oh, no!"

This collective disapproval might have deterred me, if Esha didn't rehash that Dylan thing and the bitter tears I drank all year. But she did, so she left me no choice. Cruz had to ask me out, or the girls would lecture me about bad boys till I was forty.

The bright farmer's market scenes painted on the walls of the cafeteria, the juicing counter with its glass hood for potted herbs and a stack of mangoes, even the misfit's table—everything faded away. I barely even noticed Nina salute me or heard Esha's dry swallow. All my senses zeroed in on Cruz.

With each step, it became more and more obvious how right I was about Cruz. He was not like all the other boys. His straight back, his elusive smile, his solemn brown eyes of an old soul...everything set him apart. He was an enigma. Putting him in the same basket as Dylan was criminal. However, he was sitting with the players who were exactly like Dylan. If I missed my shot, Cruz would behave like a gentleman. The other wouldn't. Hence, I couldn't miss.

Our cafeteria must have shrunk, because I crossed the floor far too fast to prepare for the next stage of our plan. A few more steps—and I'd zip right past my target.

I slowed down, so that Esha could make her move.

Nothing.

I slowed down some more. Cue Esha!

Nothing.

I was supposed to be striding past Cruz for it to work, so I was basically doing a moonwalk, only far less graceful than MJ's.

Esha?!