Never Bite a Boy on the First Date

...stop throwing him out the window...They are expensive to replace and the noise might disturbe neighbors.

I haven’t entirely adjusted to the whole yum, blood, yum aspect of being a vampire. My body wants it, but my head is still like, Ew, that is BLOOD, time to faint.

Can I buy you an ice cream beforeI take you home? I feel like it’s the least I can do after scaring your shirt off.

Um…I am the ghoooooost of your dauuuuuuuughter! My spirit haunts the earthly realm! I shall never be at peace…unless I have these jeans. Don’t ask questions! Toodle-oooooooooooo.

Okay, brace yourselves for a really hilarious joke here: Being a vampire sucks.

If you were dying... If you were sixteen and dying... If your blood was spilling out of you, calling to them, the creatures of the night, and you knew you were dying... If you saw their pale faces and the gleam of sharp teeth in the moonlight, and you felt your blood spilling warmly over your hands, and you knew beyond any doubt that you were dying... Wouldn’t you say yes? Yes, turn me. Yes, I want to live. Yes... make me one of you.

Okay, so we’re in Georgia. I can do this. I’m not just the new girl. I’m a vampire. I don’t have to be afraid of mean girls and gossip anymore. I could snap their necks in half—er, not that I will or anything, but it’s nice to know that I can.

You have to understand, the blood we drink every day to stay alive comes out of a jar in the refrigerator. It is the very definition of gross.

Sure, I had been accused of murder by my family and was wrapped up in a bizarre investigation, but there were such cute boys involved. Hey, I try to look on the bright side.