"Are we going back to the treehouse? Or going camping?" I asked coyly.
"Last night I returned to the treehouse to retrieve Jagger's gravestone etchings. They were gone."
"Valentine?" I asked. "I assume so. Valentine won't be back to the treehouse for a while. It would be too risky for him."
"Then how will we ever find him?"
"We'll have to lead him to us. Remember the box of blood-filled amulets that Jagger received from the Coffin Club that I found in the cemetery? Jagger used them to sustain himself so he'd go unnoticed here in Dullsville. I've got some in here," Alexander said, patting his backpack. "We can leave a few for Valentine at a couple locations. That way we can tell where he's been."
We tied several amulets to one of the limbs of the treehouse before heading off in the Mercedes to Dullsville's cemetery.
"Valentine has to be hiding out somewhere," Alexander stated as he parked the car beside the cemetery.
Alexander held my hand as we headed up the sidewalk to the graveyard's entrance.
"I shouldn't be on sacred ground, should I?" I asked when we reached the iron gates. "If he did bite me, not only would he turn me into a vampire, but I'd be bonded to him for eternity."
Alexander paused.
"I guess you're right," he agreed. "I forget that Valentine is a...It's best you stay behind."
"Stay behind?" I asked with a puppy dog face, quickly changing my tune. "But Valentine isn't here to bond with a mate, is he?"
Alexander shook his head. "I'm not sure why he's here." My boyfriend started over the fence. "But if Valentine isn't after an eternal partner, it couldn't hurt," I said, pulling myself over the fence.
I followed Alexander through the aisles of tombstones, past the caretaker's shed. We checked out a freshly dug grave.
"Nothing here," he declared as we looked into the empty grave. We reached the sycamore where we originally found the box of amulets.
Alexander placed five amulets on the ground-- haphazardly, so they wouldn't appear to be a trap. "We'll wait for a few minutes."
We snuck behind the caretaker's shed. Alexander put his arm around me and we huddled together underneath the glow of the moonlight.
"Tell me about your day. I feel there is so much in your life that I am missing," Alexander began.
"Biology? Or algebra? You aren't missing a thing."
"I imagine you doodling in your notebooks, skipping class, eating with Matt and Becky."
"What do I look like?"
"Beautiful, like a dark angel glowing in the daylight that streams into the classroom. Like the picture of you I have beside my coffin."
I sighed. "Becky put up some photos in her locker yesterday that she and Matt had taken in a photo booth. I wish I had a picture of you."
Alexander gazed at me, his dark eyes sad.
"There are certain things I can never give you," he admitted, "that other guys at your school can."
"You give me so much more than any mortal can," I said reassuringly. Alexander squeezed my hand. I could tell he felt lonely and wanted to join my world as much as I wanted to join his.
"It's getting late," he said.
"If we leave now, we may miss Valentine," I complained.
"I have a feeling he won't be back for a while. We can return tomorrow, together."
That night I was modeling my corseted prom dress in my bedroom and trying to match accessories from my Mickey Malice jewelry box. I put my onyx choker on and gazed into the mirror. I wondered how Alexander would prepare for prom without being able to see his reflection. Would I give up seeing my reflection forever to have the chance to be with Alexander for eternity? I wasn't sure how I'd adapt to not performing the tasks I'd grown accustomed to doing for the past sixteen years. If Dullsvillians thought I was a freak now, I'm sure they would have a field day when I applied my lipstick and eyeliner without the use of a mirror.
The following day Matt, Becky, and I met at our lockers, then headed to the gymnasium to purchase prom tickets. We squeezed through the claustrophobically crowded bustling hallways, past the main entrance, and turned the corner to the gym. There I saw something I'd never imagined--a huge line of kids snaking through the hall like the Loch Ness monster.
"Are they selling Rolling Stones tickets, too?" I joked.
"If so, I'm buying," Matt replied as we joined the end of the line. Every Dullsville High student must have been attending the upcoming prom. Some couples were holding hands, a few girls were on cell phones, another pair was having a fight. Matt put his arm around Becky and her face lit up like the New Year's Eve crystal ball at Times Square. I felt a pang in my heart because Alexander wasn't here to put his arm around me.
From my vantage point, I could barely see the entrance to the gym where several student ticket sellers were seated behind a folding table. Fortunately, the line seemed to be moving steadily along toward the destination. Our class treasurer was off to the side holding a clipboard like she was taking a survey.
"Sign-up sheet for volunteers. We need extra hands for the decorations," she said as we proceeded forward.
Becky waved over the girl in charge of our sophomore funds.
"Are you going to sign up?" Becky asked me as she scribbled her name on the paper.
"I don't have much free time these days."
When Becky was finished, the treasurer glared at me, quickly withdrew her clipboard before I had the chance to change my mind, and moved to the end of the line.
"Have you heard about a creepy-looking kid hanging out in town?" I overheard a couple say behind me as we moved a few feet ahead.
I angled my head slightly to get an earful. "Yes," the other answered. "I think he's related to those freaks from Romania that were at Trevor's Graveyard Gala. Supposedly he wanders the streets at night looking for souls."
I leaned back a little farther.
"I heard he was a ghost," the guy gossiped. "Apparently the caretaker has been finding empty candy wrappers in the cemetery--"
"He wears that nasty goth clothing," she whispered, loud enough for me to hear.
I continued to lean back--this time a little too far. I lost my balance and stumbled back.
"Ouch," Heather Ryan complained. "That was my foot."
"Sorry," I said genuinely as I regained my footing.
If I had been a prep like her, she probably would have laughed it off. But instead she looked at me as if I, too, had just climbed out of the cemetery looking for souls. "These are brand-new Pradas," she whined.