Girls That Growl (7 page)

9

It's after ten when I finally get back to my house that night. Long past Mom's normal bedtime. But when I push open the front door I immediately notice three things at once:

- a light on in the kitchen;

- a delicious smell of food wafting through the air;

- the sound of my mom giggling.

I release a sigh. Great. David must have arrived. For some reason I'd been holding out hope that his move-in date was further into the school year and Mom was just giving us ma-jor advanced warning. But not so much, it seems.

I contemplate going in and saying good-night to the two of them, do the dutiful daughter thing and all.

But then I reconsider. Seeing them together will only serve to make me sick. Mom turns into a total Stepford wife when she's around the guy and I can't stomach seeing her batting her eyelashes and saying things like, "Oh, you're so funny, David!" when he's clearly not even the least bit amusing. And then there's the authority figure act she tries to put on in front of him. She used to be Friend Mom—the one we could tell anything to and not worry about being judged. Now that she has David around to impress she's turned into Gestapo Mom—always ready to yell at me about one random thing or another.
Stop
smoking. Start eating. Why don't you ever come home on time?
I can't remember the last time we had a long talk about life and stuff. Oh, and when I try to say anything about David she immediately gets totally defensive. I guess she never completely got over the time I told her he was an evil vampire. But that was an honest mistake and based on some pretty hard evidence. So not something she should hold against me.

I trudge up the steps and down the hall to my bedroom. I push open the door and switch on the light, glad to be back in my sanctuary. After the night I had I just want to decom-press. Maybe play a few hours of World of Warcraft. It's Spider and my favorite online video game and we play every chance we get. In fact, maybe she's online right—

Oh. My. God.

At first I think I've stepped into the wrong room. This can't be my bedroom—my sacred escape from the brutal reality of the world we live in each day.
My
room has beauti-ful, dark, haunting photos on the wall.
My
room has a black comforter and is lit only by a single black-light bulb. My room has glow-in-the-dark stars on the walls and fake cob-webs strung from bedposts to ceiling.

The room I just entered is completely generic. The walls are bare, with only pinholes to show there'd ever been any-thing hanging on them. There are several new lamps, each with a gazillion-watt bulb, practically blinding me with brilliance. The bedding has been changed to a neutral navy blue spread and starched white sheets. There's even a few GladePluglns stuck surreptitiously into the plugs meant to charge my cell phone and iPod.

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

And there's a suitcase sitting on the end of the bed. With men's clothing spilling out of it.

"No, no, no, no!" I cry, horrified beyond belief. "This can't be happening!"

"Itried to stop her, Rayne, but she was a madwoman."

I turn around. Sunny's in the doorway, hair mussed and dressed for bed in flannel pajamas.

"Mom did this?" I cry. "She pulled a
Mom Eye for the Live-In Boyfriend Guy
on my room?"

Sunny puts a finger to her lips and motions for me to follow her into her room. I do, taking one last shuddering glance at the place formerly known as my bedroom. This time Mom has gone too far.

Kicking me out of my own room! That's got to be breaking some kind of child protec-tion law we have in this state, right? I wonder if DSS could step in here and stage an intervention if I tipped them off to her abusive parenting . . .

I should have never decided to keep living at home after I became a vampire. I should have moved out, gone to live in the coven with Jareth and the rest of my kind. That would have taught her to appreciate me. And I'm sure no one over-doses on Febreze in an underground crypt.

We step into Sunny's bedroom and she shuts the door behind us. I look around. Her room is completely untouched except for some kind of cot wedged in the corner. A cot! Mom expects me to toss and turn and likely suffer permanent back injuries in a rickety cot while her boyfriend snuggles down in a Sealy Posturepedic? That phone call to DSS is looking more and more like an option.

"I leave the house for one football game ..." I mutter, not sure where to begin. I sink down onto the cot.

It tips and groans under my weight. "I mean, at the very least she could have given my room away without the total makeover. Is David too good to sleep in a room with AFI posters on the wall? Is he allergic to fake spiderwebs and glow-in-the-dark stars?"

"It's 'cause you pissed her off by not cleaning it when she asked you to," Sunny explains, sitting cross-legged on her bed. Maybe if I'm really nice to her she'll let me sack out on her queen-sized tonight.

After all, we're twins. We cuddled in the womb. Seems only fair now that one of us has been tossed out into the cold that the other start sharing. "When I came home after school she was up here looking at both of our rooms. Mine was pretty clean, like you see now. So I figured she'd just stick David in here."

That had been my thought as well. When Mom had told us we had three days to clean our bedrooms I realized it must be her clever ruse to pick the nicest one to stick her boyfriend in. And since Sunny's obviously too much of a Goody-Two-Shoes to disobey Mom (not to mention a total neat freak!) I figured I couldn't lose. Mom would take one look at my disaster of a bedroom and automatically pick my sister's room as the most David-friendly.

Guess Mom's more devious than she looks.

"This sucks!" I whine, lying back on the cot and staring up at the ceiling. "All my stuff. Where did she put it, anyway?"

"Basement, I think. She was muttering something about you getting it back when you learned not to be such a slob."

"Or when David the Dork decides to move back to Condo Land."

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

"Right.
If
he decides, that is," Sunny adds. "From the way those two get along, I'm wondering if he's here for the long haul. Mom's completely smitten."

I groan. "Sometimes I wish he really did turn out to be an evil vampire. Then we could have justified staking the guy."

"Oh, come on, Rayne. He's not that bad!" Sunny laughs.
Of course
she doesn't think so. She's still got her David Gray-postered room intact.

"I mean, why can't she just shack up with the guy like a normal Mom? Have him share her bed? They're obviously sleeping together, right? I mean, they're adults. They've got to be. So why the separate room thing?"

Sunny shrugs. "Probably wants to set a good example for us."

"Bleh. Thanks, Mom." I sigh, shifting positions on the cot. "You know, Sun, you should totally go hook up with Magnus. Screw his brains out. Just to prove the point that her pathetic attempt at a morality lesson is completely inef-fectual."

"Yeah, right. I'm not going to lose my virginity just to teach Mom a lesson, Rayne."

"Well, it's not like you wouldn't get anything out of the deal yourself," I grumble, annoyed that Sunny can't see the logic of taking one for the team. I'd do it myself, but I'm pretty sure Mom already knows I've been to home plate a few times by now.

"Anyway," Sunny says. "You'll never guess who I bumped into last night." She looks at me expectantly.

"Er, if I'll never guess, then why don't you just tell me?"

She pauses for dramatic effect. "Race Jameson."

I roll my eyes. Race Jameson is this rock star that every-one and their mother is obsessed with these days. He sings for a band called Triage and has become totally overexposed. I used to think his music was halfway decent until the band started appearing on TRL and stuff. Sellouts. Even the cheer-leaders are obsessed with the guy these days. And let's just say it's not his music that's got their attention.

"Is he as good-looking in person as he is on MTV?"

Sunny grins. "Better. Much better.And ..." Another dramatic pause. "He's a vampire."

I raise an eyebrow.
Now
she's surprised me.

"A vampire? Are you sure about that?"

"Yup. I met him when I was down at the coven last night, visiting Magnus. He's in the area for a month while he records his new album. I guess he'd been undead for nearly a thousand years, living on the down low until one day he picked up an Anne Rice book and decidedLestat shouldn't be the only vampire to rock 'n' roll."

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

"Huh. That's kind of cool," I admit, suddenly having newfound respect for the guy. Even if his music does suck.

"So anyway, how did the game go? Your first night as a cheerleader?" Sunny queries."Istill can't picture you in the skirt."

I roll my eyes. "Don't give me that crap. You know you went and watched."

Sunny feigns shock. "You think I went to the game? Risked your threat of slow death and dismemberment like the victims in the
Saw
movies if I came within a hundred yards of the field?"

"Duh."

"Okay, fine," my twin confesses. "I went by. Just for a few minutes to check out your moves. Actually, Rayne, you weren't half-bad. I was pretty surprised."

"Urn, thanks. I think." I prop myself up on my side with my elbow. "Glad to hear you had such confidence in me. What did you expect? For me to fall flat on my face?"

"Rayne, face it, you're not exactly cheerleader material. Piercings and pom-poms don't usually mix."

"I'm not saying it's my scene. But my assignment was to become a cheerleader and I take my assignments seriously."

Sunny raises an eyebrow. "Uh, since when?"

"Anyway," I say. "I have bigger problems than mastering the megaphone at the moment."

"Oh?" Sunny crawls to the foot of the bed, her eyes dancing with mischief. "Like what? You fell for a football player? Developed a longing for lip gloss? You're now suddenly passionate about pink?"

I throw a pillow at her. "I'm serious!" I cry. "You do remember
why
I joined the squad, don't you? And, FYI, it wasn't for invites to the cool kids' keggers."

"I know, I know. I'm just teasing." Sunny laughs. "Slayer Inc. forced you to infiltrate the ranks of your archenemies to determine if they've been growling."

"Right." I nod. "And turns out they've been growling, all right. Growling, snarling, snapping. Not to mention sprout-ing hair. And claws. And teeth."

Sunny stares at me. "What the hell are you talking about, Rayne?"

"Sunny, Oakridge High cheerleading squad? They're actually a pack of werewolves."

"What? I—I mean ... Do they even exist? That's crazy!"

"Is it? I mean, we know vampires exist. So why not were-wolves? Hell, at this point I wouldn't even rule out the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy."

Sunny shakes her head in disbelief. "But at Oakridge? I mean, Mandy Matterson and Shantel Jones and the rest? They're werewolves?"

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

"It appears so." I relate the events of the night to her. She listens, silent and wide-eyed.

"So what are you going to do?" she asks when I'm done.

I shrug. "I'm not sure. This is beyond my expertise, really. It's not like I can stake the entire squad.

Besides, I don't even think that would work. Isn't it, like, silver bullets with were-wolves? Something along those lines? And I don't know about you, but my concealed weapon permit has long expired. Plus there's that whole waiting-period thing—"

Sunny rolls her eyes. "In any case, you don't want to shoot the squad either, right? I mean, who would rally the crowd when we're down 21-3?"

I laugh. "Right. Plus it's one of those things that tends to get a lot of media attention. Not to mention prison time. And imagine if they gave me life in prison as a vampire? Eternity's an awful long time to stay behind bars."

"So what are you going to do then? Is there a cure or something?"

"I don't know. Jareth's going to look into it. And I'm go-ing to have a little chat with the cheerleaders tomorrow— assuming they're back to their nonhairy selves. Maybe they can shed—ha ha, get it?

Shed—some light on where and when they got bitten." I shrug. "Maybe if we know that we can figure out a way to reverse the process."

"Hopefully the cure doesn't involve the Holy Grail again," Sunny says. "That was a total pain in the ass to get our hands on. And expensive, too. Mag paid a million pounds to those druids. I doubt Slayer Inc. has that kind of budget."

"Still, we have to do whatever it takes to stop them," I say. "Who knows what trouble they'll get into out on the streets? I just hope they don't hurt anyone."

"Do you really think they did something to Mike? Like . . . ate him or something?"

I make a face. "I really hope not. But I intend to find out."

"At least you got a while, right? When's the next full moon?"

I grab a calendar off Sunny's wall. It has pictures of silly-looking dogs in costume. Figures. I flip to October. "Accord-ing to this . . . it's October 15th."

Sunny's eyes widen. "Really?"

"Why? What's so significant about that date?" I ask.

"Rayne, that's homecoming."

10

I walk into the cafeteria the next morning and notice Shantel sitting alone at a far table. While seeing
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

someone sitting alone in the caf might not normally set off any warning bells, for Shantel, it's a five-alarm fire. When not at cheering prac-tice, the girl is always with her boyfriend, Trevor. And I mean
always.

The two of them are constantly locking lips or performing some other disgusting PDA that no one wants to watch before A period.

But today, she's alone and looking pretty distraught, too. Her always perfectly flat-ironed hair is tangled and unbrushed. Her makeup is smeared. And worst of all, she's wearing stripes with plaid. Something's very wrong here.