I have a confession. A big one. Like huge. And you’ll probably never think of me the same and I don’t blame you. And maybe I don’t care. But I have to tell someone what I did.
That guy. The one on Nerdo Vamp’s website. I left him for dead. There he was flat on the ground, blood seeping from his nose, and I walked away. Worse, I shouted, “Loser,” and rolled my eyes as I did it.
And then into the frat house I went, ready to shotgun beers and judge freshmen who’d gained the dreaded fifteen.
It was my fifth year in college and he was my philosophy tutor. He had the most adorable freckles on his nose and always ate string cheese. He wasn’t a total dork like Nerdo Vamp, but he wasn’t the kind of guy I should be seen with.
But I liked him. Evan was out of the picture (we were on a break!) and this guy made me feel good. So, we hung out a few times at his house and watched movies and maybe kissed. All right, we definitely kissed.
So, he decided to show up at the big Kegs and Eggs party, uninvited. Then he dared to compliment Serena in front of Moose. Let’s just say Moose had a brain like my subscription to the New Yorker–not getting much use. Kinda that whole “beer good, nerds bad” mentality.
The frat guys hauled him outside and took turns beating him with a bat. I just stood there, trying to look amused. It was supposed to be funny. Right? A bunch of drunk jerks beating the crap out of my not so cool friend.
On the inside I was freaking out, but what could I do? All my friends were there. I was in the running for big sister of the year. No one could know we were friends, or worse had kissed. I’d be blackballed.
And it was his fault for crashing the party. Why would he go somewhere he didn’t belong?
The next morning he was gone. I looked for him around campus and went to his house a few times, but I never saw him again. Even his furniture had disappeared. It was as if he never existed.
A few months later, Evan and I got back together and that was it. I didn’t really think about him again.
And now, there he was, in a suit, smiling at me from Nerdo Vamp’s website. He was listed as a consultant, along with two other suit-wearing men.
I let the phone ring twice and hung up. Did I really want to talk to him? Did I want to know what happened? Would he even want to talk to me? Was he a vampire too?
I dialed again and this time Nerdo Vamp answered. I asked him about the consultants on his website. Turns out my old friend is an identity specialist. He helps vampires transition into new lives once they’ve aged out of their current one. I guess the DMV can’t know that you’re going to be 32 forever. Neither can your neighbors, the IRS and the people at the Starbucks.
“Why, Libby, my dear you won’t need his services for quite some time. You should be fine for at least a decade or two,” Nerdo Vamp said.
“That’s fine. I just want to talk to him now. Get an idea of how the whole thing works.”
“Well, certainly. I will arrange something. How about next Tuesday?”
“Perfect.” I hung up the phone and went straight for my closet, where my next biggest decision awaited me. What was I going to wear??
**Why not start the series from the beginning? Click here to read about Libby’s first day as a vampire**