"Ready to see the bite?" I asked.
"Is it gross?"
"It's my love wound," I said and carefully unwrapped the black scarf I'd been wearing all day.
"Wow! He has a big mouth!" she said, wide-eyed.
"Isn't it cool?"
"I can see teeth marks. A few scrapes, but I don't think he punctured the skin. Does it hurt?"
"Not at all. It's like getting your ears pierced—it stings at first, but the pain quickly goes away."
"Did you faint when you got your ears pierced, too?"
"Don't get smart!"
"And the mark will go away, too, won't it?"
"That's what we're here to find out. Get the camera."
Becky took pictures of my wound, front and side. We laid the Polaroids on the cement floor as they developed.
"You're showing up," Becky stated.
"Okay. Now the mirror," I said.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"But if you are—you know, if you're really a…this could hurt."
"Becky, we don't have all day."
I took off my sunglasses.
"Ready?" she asked, holding the compact.
"Ready."
She opened the compact and pushed it against my nose.
"Ouch!"
"Oh, no!"
"You're not supposed to hit me with it! Give that to me!" I grabbed the compact with trembling hands and stared hard. Nothing—or rather, everything. I was still reflecting.
"Try the garlic!" I ordered, tossing the mirror aside.
Becky opened the Tupperware bowl and cut the clove in half.
"Now?" she asked.
"Now."
I could smell the garlic already. She held the clove under my nose. I took a deep whiff. And coughed wildly.
"Are you okay?"
"Man, that's strong! Gross! Put it away!"
"It's fresh—that's why."
"Put it away!" I said.
"I like the smell. It clears my sinuses."
"Well, it's not supposed to relieve me of nasal congestion. It's supposed to send me into a revolting frenzy."
"We have one more shot left."
She opened the leather pouch. "Ready?"
I took a deep breath. "Go for it!"
She pulled out a jeweled cross on a gold chain.
"Wow, that's cool," I said. "It looks very special."
"Does it bother you?"
"Yes, it bothers me. It bothers me that I was so foolish!"
We stepped into the sunshine—blinding for both of us.
"It's very glary after sitting in the dark," Becky commented as she put on her sunglasses. She looked up at me, relieved. "I don't think you're a vampire."
"What was I thinking? Alexander is so special. Why am I acting like Trevor?"
We both stared into the sunshine.
"I had gotten totally caught up in the rumor mill. Just like all the Dullsvillians. I'm no better than they are, am I? We wear different clothes, but I'm just as shallow as they are," I said, disappointed in myself.
"But you wanted him to be a vampire because you like vampires!"