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  I didn't spend much time admiring fellow Dullsvillians . But Mrs. Sterling was fascinated with them.

  She showed me how interesting ordinary people could be if only I'd take the time to look.

  When I finally got home, I was exhilarated-like a groupie who had just met her idol.

  Mrs. Sterling was beautiful, a vampire, and as confident as a queen. She was everything I wanted to be.

  14

  MINI-MANSION

  As usual, I was unable to focus on my homework-and this time it was for a good reason. I'd finally met Alexander's parents and had a girls' night with his mother.

  Still, I couldn't help but wonder what this meant for Alexander. He had been the master of the castle for months, so I imagined it was a hard transition for him now that they were occupying "his" space. I was sure that's why he'd been so grumpy at the beginning of our last date. I lay on my bean bag and wondered how my life would be if Sarah and Paul Madison lived inEurope like the Sterlings and I had full run of our home.

  I'd do a total makeover of the entireMadison house. All white walls would be painted black. Bright floral curtains would be changed to dusty velvet ones. I'd remove the catalog-ordered furniture and replace it with antique thrift-store finds. I'd live by candlelight but keep the electricity for much-needed necessities, such as a refrigerator, cable TV, and my hairdryer, Alexander's coffin would be next to my bed. I'd have a huge security officer by my door so my brother wouldn't be aware of Alexander's identity. We'd stay up all night watching The host Boys and pigging out on popcorn. Billy and Henry would inhabit the basement, under my strict curfew, and fire confetti-filled missiles at Trevor's house when I commanded.

  I'd exist on Count Chocula and caramel coffee lattes. School would be an optional part of the day.

  My fantasy, however, was a far cry from my current living situation. I would never see such independenceuntil I was an adult. And though I craved it and wanted to spread my bat wings without boundaries, my conservative and governing parents were crucial to my existence. I didn't have enough money for my own apartment-or the wherewithal to shop for groceries or make my own dental appointments. And when I was really down about life and love, even though I barked at their sentiments, they were my safety net. If my parents weren't around for guidance and support, my world would be darker than it already was.

  Dullsville's rail yard was built in the late nineteenth century. What once must have been a thriving and highly active station, importing and exporting coal, wheat, and corn, was now a graveyard. The rail cars looked like tombstones, marking a life that once was.

  Planks from tracks were missing, and it was a mystery where some of the rail lines even led.

  Overgrown grass and weeds covered the rest.

  Alexander asked me to meet him by the rail yard office tower. I found him leaning against a graffiti-laden boxcar whose door had probably been missing for years.

  "Finally we are together," I said, squeezing him with all my might. Alexander hugged me, but he seemed distracted. "What's wrong?"

  "My coffin is so empty now." His words hit me hard as I nestled into his chest.

  "You resent your parents for intruding on our space. That's normal. My parents totally get on my nerves. You've been lucky. You had a vacation from them for months."

  "It's more than that. But I'd rather focus on you."

  I leaned my head back, exposing my bare neck. "Please, just do it now. Take me away from all this-" "You are so dramatic. Besides, we aren't on sacred ground."

  "Is that why you brought me here instead of the cemetery? So I wouldn't be tempted?"

  "So I wouldn't be…"

  The normal world would perceive me to be in the hands of a monster, but I knew I was in the company of a dark angel. Alexander grazed his fangs over my neck, sending me into wild giggles. Then he pulled away.

  "You don't know what our lives would be like. Youconstantly needing me."

  "But I already do."

  "Believe me, Raven, I think about what it would be like. I imagine it every day."

  "What do you imagine?"

  "We'd sleep in my coffin together. We'd live in the Mansion-so you could see your family-but we'd travel the world together,Rome ,Paris,Greece . I'd paint pictures of you and we'd sell them in galleries across the world."

  "Wow." I didn't have a clue that Alexander fantasized like I did. "Then could we? Make it everlasting?"

  Just then we heard a dog bark.

  "We'd better climb inside before someone spots us."

  Alexander took my hand and lifted me into the rail car. I was the equivalent of a princess on a white horse being escorted by her handsome prince across a field of tulips. Except in my case everything was black and some of the flowers were dead.

  I stepped into a dream world. Votives and candelabras lit the car.Crystal vases bloomed lifeless roses, and petals covered the wooden floors. The pictures of Dullsville and me that once hung on the Mansion walls were now fixed on the steel walls of the railroad car. The fragrant scent of lavender filled the air.

  "I figured if I couldn't bring you to the Mansion, I'd bring the Mansion to you."

  I stood frozen. My eyes began to well. Alexander's chocolate eyes gazed down at me, and his smile lit up his handsome, pale face as he waited for my response.

  "I can't believe this!" I exclaimed as I examined each detail he had re-created. "This is the best present ever!"

  I squeezed him so tight I thought I might pass out.

  Alexander tickled my waist. His voice was soft and his lips tender. My heart filled with so much passion I thought it would burst. I wove my fingers through the length of his silky hair. We spun around, our bodies entwined, untilwe both became so dizzy we fell over onto makeshift throw pillows.

  I didn't need a Mansion. I only needed Alexander.

  15

  IS THERE A BUTLER IN THE HOUSE?

  The following day, I was in the garage putting air into my bike tires. My mom pulled into the drive, popped out of her car, and charged toward me.

  "I've invited the Sterlings over for dinner," she declared.

  "You did what?" I asked, releasing the air hose from the tire valve.

  "I invited them over," she repeated, "Why?How?" I stood up, shocked by my mother's news.

  "I called them up. Why is that so strange? People have been doing that for years."

  "But-" "Mrs. Sterling was so delighted," my mom continued. "I don't think anyone in town has invited them out socially, so I was proud to be the first one."

  "That is very nice of you… but-" "You don't want us to meet them? Or is it that you don't wantthem to meetus ."

  "Both."

  "So you want them all to yourself." My mom sighed.

  "Is there anything wrong with that? I just met them. Let me have some time alone before you start parading them through the country club functions."

  "Well, if I'd known you'd felt so strongly… I guess I can call and cancel."

  "Don't youdare! You can't; that would be rude."

  "I knew you'd see it my way," she said, and gave me an overzealous mother- triumphs-again hug.

  Since I was a kid, allMadison family meals were spent at the dinette-a small, rectangular wooden table with matching chairs. A few scratches and stains showed its age, like rings around a tree. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner; homework; and many school projects took place on this table and chairs. The dining room, however, was reserved for holiday and extended family meals. Suddenly, fancy tablecloths, sterling-silver candle holders, crystal salt and pepper shakers, linen napkins, and china flew out of the china cabinet.

  "We don't have any black lace tablecloths," I called to my mom, who was in the kitchen preparing dinner. I searched through the cabinet drawers for Sterling-like decor. All I found in our possession was a pale crimson, a white lace, and a plastic floral one.

  "Why would you want a black tablecloth?"

  "Do you even know who you are inviting over?" I settled for a brown cloth w
ith embroidered leaves and began setting out my grandmother's china.

  "I can't remember a time when you set the table without being asked," my mom said, holding a glass vase with fresh flowers. "I'll have to invite the Sterlings over more often."

  I positioned six plates evenly, measuring their distance by the width of my hand.

  "You don't want to set it too early. It might collect dust," she advised.

  "I want to make sure it's perfect."

  Henry and Billy Boy ran up from the basement like an incoming army. "When's dinner?" Billy asked.

  I was aghast. "He's not going to be here, is he?"

  "Of course; he's part of the family."

  "But I only set six."

  "Then set eight. We have twelve place settings."

  I imagined the conversation switching from talk of life inRomania to talk Star Trek conventions.

  Rage raced through my blood. Billy Boy knew it, too. He raised his eyebrows in victory, and he and Henry took off for his room.

  I followed the nerd-mates upstairs. I found my new Purse Party messenger bag on my nightstand and knocked on his door.

  "No ghouls allowed," he hollered to a few boyish giggles.

  I pushed the door ajar. I opened my wallet and flashed him a five-dollar bill. "You'll ask to eat at Henry's?"

  His face lit up as if I'd just shown him a mint condition Luke Skywalker action figure. "Sure."

  "You promise?"

  "Cross my heart."

  I gave my brother the bill.

  He held it tightly in his hand. "That was to ask," he said. "Not to actually stay."

  My instinct was to hit him over the head with my purse. However, he had been trained by the best, so I refrained.

  I dug back into my wallet. I had three singles left. "This is *to stay,"' I said, handing him a single. "This is 'to eat.'" I handed him another bill. "And this is to 'not come back until late.'" "We'll need money for a movie, then." "And nachos," Henry added. "I always eat nachos at the movies."

  "I bet you do. Would you like money for video games, too?"

  They both nodded eagerly.

  "That was a rhetorical question." I snarled. "This is all I have." I handed him a wadded ten and twenty and lint-filled change, "But you can have my firstborn if you spend the night."

  "That I'll pass on," he said as I blasted out the door.

  "I thought we were going to have steaks!" I said when I returned to the kitchen. I was missing the aroma of marinade and instead saw scentless water boiling on the stove.

  "I decided to make pasta instead," my mom said.

  "The Sterlings can't eat that. They have to eat meat. And they like it rare."

  "Why- are they animals?"

  I bit my black lip.

  "Are you sure we can't still get a catering company?" I asked. "Or at least help in serving? They're used to having a butler."

  "We are who we are-we don't change for other people. You know that. I think cheese tortellini with salad will be great. Besides, your dad is trying to cut back."

  "This isn't about Dad. We are hosts."

  "I'm sure they love Italian."

  I imagined a bloodthirsty and starving-to-the-boneSterling family leering at my parents for their real meal.

  "Doesn't anyone in this family listen to me?" I stormed around the kitchen and opened the fridge. I didn't expect to see blood-filled smoothies, but a girl can always hope. "They don't like garlic, remember.

  No garlic bread."

  "I know, you've told me a thousand times."

  "Well, you didn't remember I requested steaks," I mumbled.

  "I'll need your help with the brownies," my mom nudged.

  Jameson served flaming pudding. Sarah Madison served microwave brownies.

  I zapped the dessert and realized I'd spent so much time figuring out what to wear to the Sterlings', I hadn't even begun to pick out what I'd wear tonight.

  I raced upstairs and obsessed about what was the perfect attire to wear as one of the Sterlings ' dinner hosts. I changed outfits at least five times and, naturally, I settled on the first outfit I originally had on-a frilly black lace skirt, white bodice, black-and-red-striped stockings, and Mary Janes .

  I was exhausted by the time the doorbell finally rang.

  16

  MEET THE PARENTS

  I grabbed a knitted blanket and a pair of Billy's sneakers I that were sitting on the stairs and threw them into the hall closet. I straightened my skirt. "They're here!"

  "Then answer the door!" my mom called.

  I checked myself in the hallway mirror. I was pleased with my reflection. Oh my! I thought.

  Reflection! I immediately unhooked the mirror and carefully placed it in the closet.

  The doorbell rang again.

  "Answer the door, Raven/' my mother called. "They'll think we're not home!"

  I smoothed out my skirt again and opened the door. Alexander looked gorgeous in a gray silk shirt and black jeans. Mrs. Sterling was packed into a tight black dress and dark knee-high boots, and she held a black lace parasol. Her attire was a fabulous combination of sixties and goth .

  Mr. Sterling sported an impressive silk suit, lavender tie, and brooding half cape.

  "Welcome to our home," I said.

  My mom rushed over to us, wiping her hands off with a kitchen towel.

  My dad came over and did his best to conceal his shock.

  Mrs. Sterling collapsed her umbrella. "Mom, Dad, this is Mr. and Mrs. Sterling." My mom extended her hand. "It's lovely to meet you both."

  "Hello. I'm Cassandra," Alexander's mom said. "I'm Paul, and this is Sarah," my dad responded.

  "Constantine Sterling. Nice to meet you," Alexander's dad said.

  "Here, let me take that," my dad said, taking the umbrella. "I didn't know it was raining" "It isn't," she said evenly. Her violet eyelashes sparkled.

  "Well, I guess you are prepared when it does."

  "Come in and make yourselves at home. I'm just finishing up." My mom darted into the kitchen.

  My father stuck the umbrella in the closet. "What's this doing in here?" he muttered, noticing the hall mirror lying against his tennis racket.

  Dinner at the Madisons might have been the Sterlings ' first time slumming it. Our house was nice, but it wasn't a monster-size megamansion .

  My father led us into the living room.

  "Your house is gorgeous," Mrs. Sterling remarked.

  I clutched Alexander's hand for security. Now I could see why he had waited to introduce me to his family. The pressure was enormous. What would my mother say? What did they really think of my house?

  Our house wasn't tidy, but my mom did clean it. At least the sight of a few cobwebs would make them feel comfortable.

  "Can I get you something; to drink?" I asked. "Dinner's almost ready."

  "Raven, I need you," I heard my mother bellow.

  Of course she did. Now that I had company my mom was getting all demanding. I wanted to keep my eyes and ears on my father and our guests. How could I edit embarrassing conversation if I was out of earshot?

  "Can I be of any assistance?" Mrs. Sterling kindly offered.

  The Sterlings were aristocrats. I couldn't imagine Mrs. Sterling serving her own food. Her fingernails were so long, I wouldn't want them to break off carrying salad bowls.

  "That's all right. W r hat would you like to drink?" I asked.

  "I am so bloody thirsty," Mrs. Sterling said, "I could drink a horse."

  My dad laughed. "I like your sense of humor."

  "How about water?"Alexander answered.

  "Perfect," I said, and exited before they could change his mind. In the kitchen I tried to pick up on their conversation. I was moving quickly and the ice dropped out of my hand, I returned with three waters. The drinks shook as I brought them out on a tray.

  As soon as I entered the living room, the drinks clanking together, my dad and Alexander jumped up to assist me. "I'm not sure you have a future in the restaur
ant biz," my dad joked, " Isee Raven as the owner of a fashionable boutique," Mrs ,Sterling said.

  "Really?" my dad asked. "I was hoping she'd bea tennis pro, but as you see, she doesn't like to wear white."

  Great.Thiswhole evening was going to be my dad's chance at his comedy act-with me as the source of his material, "Dad's embarrassing me already," I said to my mom, back in the kitchen.

  "He's just having fun. Maybe he's a bit nervous, The Sterlings are very interesting people/' I placed the rolls, butter, pasta, sauce, and salad on the table in record time.

  "Dinner's on," my mom hollered as if she were Mrs. Walton ringing a dinner bell.

  Alexander and I sat on one side and the Sterlings on the other, while my parents were at the head of the table. Our dining-room table was a third of the size of Alexander's. We all were in arm's reach of one another, I noticed my mom staring at the wounds on Mrs - Sterling's neck, Mrs. Sterling must have sensed it, too as she turned to my mom.

  "Just a small bite I received last night, Don't worry- it's not contagious."

  "I didn't mean to-," my mom said apologetically, "I thought it was a tattoo," my dad said, and we all laughed.

  I caught my reflection in the glass curio cabinet. I couldn't help notice the lack of our company's shadows.

  I knew my parents were now distracted with conversation, but once the wine flowed and the carb coma hit-it might be more obvious.

  "Excuse me," I said, I dimmed the lights so the glare wasn't so noticeable, "Good idea. This is much cozier," my mom complimented me, "I hope pasta is okay," I whispered to Alexander, 'This dinner looks delicious," Mrs. Sterling said.

  "Thank you," my mom replied. "I bet you are glad to be settled here."

  "Well, we will be off again soon," Mrs. Sterling said.

  "Really?" my dad said curiously, "You travel a lot."

  "We're going back toRomania ," Alexander's dad stated.

  "So soon?You just got here," my mom noted, "For business or pleasure?" my father wondered.

  "Both," Mr. Sterling answered.

  "Alexander has told us that you are an art dealer," my dad said. "What is your specialty?"

  "Whateversells. "

  We all laughed at his honesty.