Chapter 3

For a few moments, the only sound was the gentle ticking of the clock, and a slight rustle of the newspaper the woman was reading. Then the sounds of springs, and the toast went flying out of the toaster and landed on the sideboard. The woman got up to make her breakfast, whilst outside the postman cycled by, the neighbour let his cat in, and the guy across the street drove his new car into the pillar at the end of the driveway.

The woman, having seen all this through the kitchen window, winced.

At that moment, the door to the kitchen burst open and a teenage girl walked in, yawning.

„You're running a little late, aren't you?“, the woman said, not taking her eyes off her toast, which she was covering with insane amounts of butter.

„Nah.“, her daughter replied, grabbing the carton of orange juice from the fridge and pouring herself a glass.

„Aren't you going to eat anything?“, her mother asked.

„Nah.“

„Are you trying to starve yourself again?“

„MUM! I never tried to starve myself! I'm just not hungry, okay?“

„Sure. Just eat enough lunch, okay darling?“

„Yeh sure.“

Her daughter finished her drink and placed the glass in the sink.

„Were you late coming in last night? I didn't hear you.“

„Ahh.. yeh, you were in bed already.“

„When did you come in then?“

Silence, only broken by the muffled swearing of the guy across the street who had just smashed the front left side of his new Mercedes.

„TIFFANY.“

„YEH! Umm, about 1am.“

„Tiffany, how many times have I told you to be back in the house at midnight? You know how dangerous it is out there these days, what with all the disappearances of teenage girls and young women!!“

„I know“, came the sulky reply.

Her mother sighed. She couldn't very well tie her daughter to a long leash and pull her in everytime it got too late, but she wished she would listen to her for once. That morning's paper had a fresh new story of a local kidnapping, or that was what they were referring to it as. A girl just a year older than Tiffany, had been walking home after a night out at the disco, and never got back. She shuddered.

The door closed again and she looked up to see her daughter had snuck out of the kitchen. Rolling her eyes, she sat down at the table with her toast and picked up the paper again.

**

Tiffany leaned towards her mirror, hastily applying some extra-long-extra-thick-extra-black-extra-spider-leggy-mascara to her lashes, thinking back to the night before in frustration, wondering why her date had just run off like that. And he hadn't texted her yet. And he hadn't called. Her phone sat on her dresser, the display showing just the date and time and the pink loveheart background. No new messages, no new missed calls.

„Screw you“, she muttered under her breath. She giggled. „I wish I had.“

A quick look at her clock told her it was time to leave and, with a last quick comb-through of her hair, she grabbed her school bag and ran down the stairs.

„OK bye mum!“, she yelled as she opened the door, and slammed it behind her before she could get an answer. Her mother just nodded, her mouth full of toast, a drip of butter falling onto the newspaper and her eyes glued to the weather section.

The bus ride to school was always so embarrassing. Most of the others were younger kids who found the buy way cooler than being brought to school by mum or dad and who were too lazy to walk it or bike it. Most of her friends lived near enough the school to cycle, and a couple of them had cars. They were so damn lucky. She lived out past the outskirts of the city and had to get the stupid yellow school bus to school.

The bus approached the school and she shrunk down in her seat, not wanting to be seen and wishing the bus would turn into a black hole to swallow her up. Curses, the gang of hot guys had to be standing at the bus stop. Why didn't they hang out somewhere else for a change?

She waited until all the younger kids had gone past, then grabbed her bag and made for the front of the bus as hastily as possible. She walked around the front of the bus onto the street, thus avoiding the group of guys who, she was sure, were laughing behind her back right now.

In the school yard she spotted her friends and made a beeline for them.

„Hey gals!“ she said, giving her two best buddies the obligatory kiss-on-the-cheeks; twice on each side of course.

„Hey Tiffy, so heey, how was your date last night?“, the taller of the two said, fluffing her hair with her free hand.

„Well“, Tiffany began, ditching her bag on the ground and taking a seat on the low wall they stood by. „He was nice, he's super hot and everything but.. he was weird.“

„Weird? Like, totally gross weird?“

„No, I mean.. we had a great time and stuff, but at the end of the night he just suddenly ran off. As if he was scared or something.“ She shrugged, reaching into her bag for her phone. Still no text or call.

„Ran off? What a jerk.“ the second girl said, crossing her arms and inspecting her fake fingernails.

Tiffany shrugged. „I dunno, maybe he'll call back. Or should I call him?“

„NOO!“, the other two cried in unison.

„He's like, totally not worth it“, the taller one said. „If anything he should call you and APOLOGIZE. Which some guys just don't have the guts to do.“

Ms Fingernails-Inspector nodded, now filing her index fingernail with a pink and blue striped nail file. „MEN. All women of the earth should just become lesbians. It would serve them right.“

Tiffany and the tall girl looked at each other, eyebrows raised.

„Oh-kay! Well, we should get to class.“ Tiffany said, getting up and picking her bag off the ground. Her friends nodded and all three sauntered towards the school building.

**

Adrian lay restlessly on his mattress, staring into the semi-darkness, thinking about the night he had just spent with that girl. She was pretty. Though mindnumbingly stupid.. although his friends had all said most human females that age were, these days. Either that or all the intelligent girls were too intelligent to get picked up by a tall, mysterious looking stranger with a pale complexion and a weird loathing of daylight. He grinned, despite himself. He and his clan must look a right sight; it was amazing no one had been put behind bars yet. Then again.. thinking back to the other kinds people that roamed the streets at night, maybe they weren't so conspicuous.

He ran his tongue over his somewhat elongated inscisors. And what good had they been for till now? Absolutely nothing. He was a shame for vampirekind, he was. He sighed, loudly.

„Still awake there?“, Nathan said.

„Yes. I can't seem to sleep. My eyes keep flicking back open.“

„Is the candlelight disturbing you?“

„Not really.. I don't think.“

„Well let me just finish this cross stitch pattern then I'll blow it out and try to sleep myself. Another long night tomorrow, you should try and sleep too. Try counting pigs or something.“

„Don't you mean sheep?“

„Whatever animal works best for you, Adrian.“

Nathan pulled his needle through the material one last time for that night, then, setting his work aside, he pulled his mattress towards the candle. Lying down, he turned his head and blew the flame out. The room was plunged into complete darkness.

Adrian closed his eyes and tried counting sheep. Then pigs. Then sheep and pigs. Then sheep-pig hybrids. But nothing worked, he just didn't feel sleepy at all. Just worried.. worried about his future, and what would happen if he wasn't ready for the Coming. Nathan hadn't voiced his thoughts, but Adrian wasn't stupid. He could see the anxiety in his eyes whenever he brought it up, and knew exactly that Nathan was scared of what he would have to do if he didn't manage to recruit him on time.

Adrian wasn't scared. Just worried. His thoughts went back to Tiffany – what a ghastly name – and her lovely neck. And he hadn't had the guts to lean in for a bite. Tomorrow, he told himself, tomorrow he would. Definitely. Yes.

He turned over and shut his eyes, waiting patiently to fall asleep.

**

Class always took far too long. Tiffany sat staring out of the window, mindlessly chewing on her Biro, even though everyone said she shouldn't do that since it could explode and she'd end up with ink everywhere. But she had been chewing on that pen for the entire year so far and nothing had happened, so she concluded nothing will ever happen. Her teacher was droning on, his voice seemed distant, as she watched the clouds fly by. She should call. Should she? Why didn't he text? Maybe he had lost her number.. yes, that was it, surely.. what sane guy wouldn't call her back? She knew she was desirable. Brittany and Else always said so too. Though Else was a little crazy, Brittany was believable.

But they had said not to call. Why would they say that? She should call. Yes, after school, she'd call. If he hadn't called by then. Or texted. She would call.