"What is your specialty?" my mom inquired.
"Portraits. Family. Memories," Alexander responded mysteriously.
"Vampires," I said proudly.
My parents paused. "I see you have a lot in common," my dad commented.
"Raven's exams are coming up," my mom began, fiddling with her silver bracelet. "She said you were already taking your homeschool exams?"
"Yes. I've completed them."
"That's very impressive. Maybe some of your study habits will rub off on Raven," my dad added.
"Dad!" I whined, sinking in my chair. "Maybe we could finish with the interrogation after we order."
"You're right," my father agreed. "I'm hungry."
The waiter returned with our drinks. "Ladies," the waiter said, holding his paper and pen.
"I'll take the Cricket burger, well done," I said.
"I'll have the fish and chips," my mother said with a smile.
"For the young gentleman?"
Alexander cleared his throat. "I'll have the rib-eye steak."
"How would you like that prepared?"
"Raw," Alexander said matter-of-factly.
My parents and the waiter looked at my boyfriend oddly.
"He means rare," I corrected. "Medium rare."
I could see Mrs. Mitchell's head lean ever so slightly out of her booth.
"Yes, that's what I meant," he said with a strained grin.
"And you, sir?"
"I'll have the shepherd's pie," my dad ordered, "and the green garlic and pea soup."
The waiter took our menus and scampered off to the kitchen as Alexander glared at me.
"What did you order, Dad?" I asked, horrified.
"Shepherd's pie."
"No—the soup."
"Green garlic. Why, would you like to order some? We can get the waiter."
All at once, I imagined the plate of green garlic and pea soup being placed within smelling distance of my vampire boyfriend. Alexander would wheeze; then he'd turn even more deathly pale than he already was. He'd stand up, staggering and gasping for air. We were miles away from the Mansion, Jameson, and Alexander's life-saving antidote.
"No—Alexander is deathly allergic to garlic!" I panicked. "We have to stop them; they can't bring it out!"
My dad's easygoing disposition turned to concern. He tossed his napkin on the table. "I'll cancel that immediately," he announced, and hurried off to find the waiter.
"I'm so sorry," my mother apologized. "Can he eat nuts?"
"Yes, it's just garlic he can't handle."
My dad returned to our table. "I changed it to a vegetable soup. You're not allergic to green beans, are you?" my dad teased.
We all laughed.
"That's an odd allergy," my dad said. "How long have you had that?"
"All my life. My whole family is allergic," Alexander said innocently. "They've always been."
"Ahem," I said, clearing my throat.
I was getting overheated. My face was starting to flush and my heart was throbbing. First of all I was out on a double date with my parents; secondly my date was a vampire; and thirdly at any moment between the stacks of Abstract Algebra and Mathematics in Action, my brother might be meeting up with a tween bloodsucker.
"Excuse me," I said, shooting my chair back, "I'll just be a moment."
Alexander rose politely, like a southern gentleman, as I rushed off to the ladies' room.
I was walking around the crowded bar when I bumped into someone.
"Excuse me," I apologized.
"Following me to restaurants now?" a familiar voice said. I looked up. My heartbeat screeched to a halt. It was Trevor.
"I believe I was here first."
"Technically not. I believe my mother was. I'm surprised to see you here. I thought you only ate in your dungeon," he said with a sneering grin.
Ever since Alexander and I had diverted Jagger and Luna from turning Trevor into a late-night snack at the Graveyard Gala—Trevor's party at Dullsville's cemetery— I'd gained a little respect from Trevor at school. Though my nemesis didn't know the Maxwells’ true intent, he did know that for the last several days I had been warning him about the nefarious duo. Still, Trevor couldn't resist egging me on. His repartee was only slightly less biting than it used to be. Trevor and I'd been caustic to each other since kindergarten—it was the only way we knew how to communicate. Without that, we'd have no relationship. And that, I knew for sure, Trevor wasn't ready to give up.
"Is Alexander asking your father for your hand in marriage?"
"Don't be lame—"
"Not even to prom? It's next week. You'll miss watching me be crowned Prom King. Too bad they don't have a place for Prom Freak. They surely would have a tiara waiting for you."