“I stand before her, meeting her eye to eye and nose to nose. My head takes a slight bow as I clench my fist. “I should have just killed you like any other bloodsucking vampire.”“So why didn’t you?” She tiptoes, clenching her first as well. I have to admit. She is a much better version of the Snow White you see in a Disney movie. She’s kind of kickass. I like it, but I will never let her know.“Why do you care so much about me then? Ha?” She asks."I should have killed you before," I repeated while all I could do is wonder how I'd ever fallen in love with a monster girl.”
“Meghan and I talked about music - she loved Ella Fitzgerald. "What about all the hip acts that college kids love? Do you like any of them?""Like who?""I don't know all their names. Snoop Diggity Do and all those hip cats." Meghan shook her head and laughed. We talked about movies - she loved anything made before 1964. No wonder I thought she was older; she was an old soul in a young body."So what's your favorite movie?" I asked."To Kill a Mockingbird." My mother would have liked Meghan. She made my father and me watch To Kill a Mockingbird with her when I was in first grade. It must have been the twentieth time she'd seen it, but she still cried at the parts that made her weepy-eyed the first nineteen times.”
“She say, All my life I had to fight. I had to fight my daddy, I had to fight my brothers. I had to fight my cousins and my uncles. A girl child ain't safe in a family of men. But I never thought I'd have to fight in my own house. She let out her breath. I loves Harpo, she say. God knows I do. But I'll kill him dead before I let him beat me. Now if you want a dead son-in-law you just keep on advising him like you doing. She put her hand on her hip. I used to hunt game with a bow and arrow, she say.”
“You think Bernadette Maguire killed him?”“Uh… no. She’s, like I said, she’s old.”“Old people can kill people too.”“I know, but…”“She could be a ninja.”“She’s not a ninja, for God’s sake. She’s somebody’s great grandmother.”“I want you to think carefully about this, Kenny. Have you ever seen her with a sword?”“What?”“How about throwing stars?”“This is ridiculous.”“Have you ever seen her dressed up as a ninja? That would have been my first clue.”The girl sucked in her cheeks so she wouldn't laugh out loud.”
“Wait, so you do love me?" I asked, hope welling in my heart.She growled and pounded her fist into a locker, leaving a fist-shaped dent. "Stop it, Justin. Stop it!"I grabbed her shoulders. "Look at me and tell me you don't love me," I said. "Do it and I'll never bother you again.""I don't love you," she mumbled."Look at me when you say it!"She turned to me, her eyes hard but dull and faded. "I don't love you."I let her go. My heart turned to lead, the heavy lump sagging in my chest. "Well, if there are agents out there looking to kill me, I guess it would be a mercy."I turned to leave. Her hand gripped my shoulder."Please listen to me, Justin."I pushed her hand away but didn't turn to face her. I couldn't let her see the tears welling in my eyes. "Why? What does it matter?""It just does. I—I don't want to see you hurt."I took a deep shuddering breath. "You're not doing a very good job of it." I walked away and left her standing there.”
“So why haven’t you called?” I ask her now.She looks uncomfortable. “I told you,” she says, twirling the end of her braid around her finger. “School stuff.”“Bullshit.” She looks at me and opens her mouth, probably to lie again. But then she changes her mind. “I didn’t know what to say.” Her voice catches, so I know she’s telling the truth. “And besides, you didn’t call me, either.” “Because you didn’t call me!” Doesn’t she know that the person who got kicked out of school (me) doesn’t have to call the one who didn’t(her)? She should have called to check up on me, to see how I was doing. She should have come over with lemonades and ice cream, keeping me company, helping me nurse my broken heart. That’s what best friends do. It’s so common it’s cliché.”