“I can sue you? Cool." I rummage around in my purse for a pen, wanting to write this down. "Under what? Medical malpractice? Assault with a deadly fang?" I look up. "How much you think the courts would award me for that?"
Rayne frowns. "Sunny, stop being a bitch. Can't you see poor Magnus is freaking out here?"
"I need to stop being a bitch? For Magnus's sake?" I stare at her, unbelieving. "Uh, hello? He's the guy who walked up and bit me for absolutely no reason whatsoever.”
“Okay, I'll wear the Bite Me shirt,[...]It'll be my standard response to anyone who tries to hit on me." I giggle. "Someone can come up and be like 'Hey babe, what's your sign?' and I'll just point to my shirt." Rayne laughs appreciatively and tosses me the tank top. "Of course they might think you're pointing to your boobs in a 'have at 'em, big boy' kind of way.”
“You know, being bitten by a vampire one week before prom really sucks.
No pun intended.”
“Now Sunny, don’t get mad, but …” Rayne begins, her voice trembling.
I shoot her an angry glare. “But WHAT, Rayne?”
“I, uh, think you’ve accidentally been turned into a vampire.”
“I can barely breathe. I feel like I’m going to explode. Jake Wilder is kissing me. French-kissing me. Is he even supposed to be French-kissing me for the play? I thought… Oh, who cares if he’s supposed to or not. He is, that’s all that matters.”
“O-kay. Kind of freaky. I’m now standing in an actual tomb, in pitch darkness, with only a vampire to keep me company. Last week if you’d sworn on a stack of Bibles that I’d be okay with all of this, I wouldn’t have believed you.”
“They should install elevators in this place. What if they turned a handicapped person into a vampire? Talk about your discrimination lawsuit waiting to happen.”
“Roses are red. Blood is too…”
“Turning into a vampire is bad enough – I don’t need to flunk out of school on top of it.”
“You are my blood mate,” he says simply, finding my hand and squeezing it with his own. “I would die for you.”
Gah! A little warning before the touching would be nice. Mainly so I can resist the overwhelming urge to morph into a jiggly pile of Jell-O, thank you very much.
“You’d … die… for me?”” I manage to choke out. I’ve got to lighten the mood here. “Technically aren’t you already dead?”
“Hi, my name is Sunny and I’m a bloodoholic.”
“For all I know, the guy is Dracula.”
“Just ‘cause I’m a vampire, doesn’t mean I’m into the Goth scene.”
“Yeah. I suppose that makes sense,” I reason. “Like why go around dressing in black and wishing you were dead, when technically you already are.”
He grins. “Exactly.”
“I have felt that some sort of awful shame is attached to my name and that I have somehow brought this shame along from somewhere I have never been, and that I have carried this sin as my sin even though I have never committed it; this sin pursues me all my life, which life is undoubtedly not my own even thought I live it , I suffer from it die of it.”
“Even in the production of wool, cruelty is a feature. To reduce problems with flies that infest the folds in the skin of Merino sheep (the most highly prized wool breed), producers practice “mulesing.” Strips of flesh are literally cut off the backs of the animals’ legs and hind region to create smooth skin without anesthesia or pain relievers. Sheep also commonly have their tails cut off to control fly problems.”
“Ninety-seven minutes ago,” replied Copperfield. “Killed two male nurses and his doctor with his bare hands. The other three orderlies who accompanied him are critical in the hospital.” “Critical?” “Yes. Don’t like the food, beds uncomfortable, waiting lists too long—usual crap. Other than that they’re fine.”
“..but it's one of the reflections of our times. Young minds today are dulled by television and other visual sensations. When reading was one of the few pleasures available, we could recite whole passages to eachother.”
“This is a fool’s errand,” Mace grumbled.
“You think all of my errands are foolish, Lazarus. I’m not impressed.”
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