Home > Fangs for the Memories (My Sister the Vampire #13)(13)

Fangs for the Memories (My Sister the Vampire #13)(13)
Author: Sienna Mercer

‘Of course.’ He frowned. ‘So?’

‘So, why don’t we both adopt disguises?’ she said. ‘Then we can go out and walk among real Londoners, instead of just relying on your vocal coach and her rules. We can listen to how people really talk, to get the rhythms of the speech down.’

‘Olivia Abbott, you are brilliant.’ Jackson beamed at her as he picked up a last sandwich. ‘Why don’t we try it later today?’

‘Sounds good to me,’ Olivia agreed. She smiled to herself as the pod carried them slowly back down to earth.

So much for having a quiet, lazy afternoon . . . but this has definitely been a lunch to remember!

Chapter Four

Even lunchtime is a bizarre experience! Ivy thought. She stared down at her food, but couldn’t bring herself to eat it. She was too busy reeling from the shock revelations of the morning.

Not only was Franklin Grove High full of goths, they seemed to be the largest demographic – the most popular social group! Even Mr Russell, Ivy’s English teacher, had been wearing a long-sleeved black Tee underneath his collared shirt. More than that, he’d used a Destroy the Dream Boat track to inspire a creative writing session!

When Ivy had had to stand up and introduce herself, she’d received a round of applause before she’d even opened her mouth. When she’d sat back down afterwards, the girl sitting next to her had whispered, ‘How do you get to be so cool?’

Ivy was lost for words – and that never happened.

Now, she was in the school cafeteria, with a burger in front of her, surrounded by a sea of goths. They filled up the prime table in the cafeteria, just by the dessert bar and next to the doors that opened up on to the courtyard outside. Posters for Ivy’s favourite bands hung on the cafeteria walls, and a sign over the dessert bar announced their ‘Dark Special’ – a dark chocolate cheesecake, with tiny bats drawn perfectly in icing.

And if all that wasn’t weird enough, Ivy could see a group of blonde, tanned ‘bunny’ girls sat in a dark corner, pressed uncomfortably into a too-small table. But they sure weren’t acting like any bunnies she’d ever seen before.

Back at Franklin Grove Middle, those bunny girls would have been confidently chatting and laughing, well aware that they ruled the whole school. Here, though, they sat hunched and whispering, darting nervous looks over their shoulders whenever one of them made too much noise.

Between the prime table of goths and the back corner of bunnies, like a buffer zone, was a table of . . . well, regulars was all that Ivy could think to call them. And she couldn’t believe it. The regular kids had a better table than the bunnies!

Sighing, she turned back to her own table. The leader of the goths, a girl in junior year called Amelia Thompson, was in the middle of a lecture that made the younger students at the table lean forwards to catch every single word. Ivy had realised that Amelia was Queen Bee of this group as soon as everyone had crowded around her in the cafeteria line, asking her opinion on what was the right lunch to eat on a Monday.

I never knew that goths could have Queen Bees, Ivy thought glumly, as she looked around the pale, rapt faces. Just one more thing I was wrong about!

Amelia was an absolute blueprint for everything a goth should be, from the silver rings in the braided strands of her hair to the heavy black boots, the pale skin and the little kilt she was wearing. It was all Classic Goth – and she clearly knew it. Ivy listened in disbelief as Amelia lectured those around her:

‘Goths never, ever tan, so don’t get careless just because it’s turning into fall. Just because there are clouds doesn’t mean that you’re safe. Don’t ever go out without sunblock!’ Smiling, she pulled out a tube from her black shoulder bag. ‘Personally, I like SPF50, for maximum protection. I even put it on when it’s raining!’

Speechless, Ivy could only stare. Is she for real?

‘Now, as for clothing . . .’ Amelia leaned forwards, her expression turning intent. ‘You should all have at least three shades of black in your wardrobe – matt black, faded black and grey-black.’

The girl across from Ivy pulled out a notepad and started scribbling notes, looking panicked. All around the table, Ivy could see goths studying their own clothes with worried expressions. They’re probably trying to figure out if they’re wearing matt black or faded black! Ivy rolled her eyes, fighting back a snicker.

But Amelia’s next words made her blood run cold.

‘Most of all, I cannot overstate just how important it is to avoid associating with non-goths.’ Amelia looked grimly around the table, holding each person’s gaze in turn. She tried to catch Ivy’s eye, but Ivy had developed a sudden and urgent interest in her food tray. ‘Maybe you’ll be tempted. Maybe some will seem OK. But a true goth will never fall for that trap!’

What?! Ivy’s mouth fell open. This was going way too far.

Ivy had always loved being a true goth herself, but she would never dictate to anyone else how they should dress or behave. Being a Goth was all about creativity and imagination, not falling into line! And no friendships with non-goths? By those rules, Ivy shouldn’t have anything to do with her own sister, one of the kindest human beings she knew!

No way am I following that rule, she thought grimly. If Amelia thinks she can tell me what to do, she can –

Brendan nudged her elbow, and Ivy shook herself, making sure a death-squint did not come over her face. She met his eye and could read the expression on his face straight away: Don’t let them see what you’re thinking.

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