Nice girl? Maybe not

Nice girl? Maybe not


William could scarcely believe his incredible good fortune.  William Bartholomew Redding—he had no friends to call him Bill, Will or even Willy—was possessed of no better than average looks and, nerd's nerd that he was, he was generally ignored by everyone outside his family.  In some inexplicable manner, though, he had caught the fancy of Annabella Iliescu, a recent transfer student.  Not only was she easily one of the prettiest girls he'd ever seen, she had an Old World aura about her that set her apart, and her accent made her unique.  He had no idea why she had chosen him, but the last three weeks had been heaven on earth for the inexperienced teen.

They had met one evening at the mall's food court.  She had been facing the "Trident"—the kids' nickname for the three hallways that fanned out from the food court toward the rest of the mall—and had appeared confused about which one to take.  Girls didn't generally talk to William, a situation he accepted and reciprocated, so he had waited for anyone else to stop and help her.  When no one did, he had screwed up his courage and made his way over to her.

"Hi!  I'm William.  First time here, right?"

"It is obvious?" the girl replied, her beautiful voice a low contralto tinged with some exotic accent.

"Don't feel bad," answered William, hooking a thumb at the hallways, "the 'Trident' gets everyone their first time.  What are you looking for?"

The girl's dark brown eyes glanced down at her mall brochure, then back up at William.  "216A - Sit & Lit.  It is a bookstore."

"Oh, sure; I've been there lots of times.  Central hallway, most of the way down, right next to the coffee shop.  I can walk you, if you'd like," he ventured shyly.

"This hallway?" she asked, pointing straight ahead.  "Surely the shop is on the second floor - two sixteen, yes?"  Her accent captivated him, conjuring up images of some Eastern European country (thanks, in no small part, to all the horror movies from the sixties and seventies he loved to watch).

"You'd think so," William replied, "but that's the 'Trident' for you.  Store spaces in the 100's are in the left hallway, 200's in the middle, and 300's on the right.  It's the letter that tells you the floor: A for 1st, B for 2nd and C for 3rd."

"That is very confusing, William.  I believe I will gratefully accept your kind offer."  They set off, walking side by side without speaking.  When they reached the store's entrance, the girl turned to William.  She looked deeply into his eyes and he returned her gaze.  Their surroundings seemed to fade away, and he suddenly felt as if he had become completely transparent and that she knew everything about him.

"Thank you again, William."

"You're welcome—?"

"Annabella.  Annabella Iliescu."

"You're welcome, Annabella."

And then, to his complete astonishment, she had asked him if he would like to meet her the next night at the coffee shop.  He had stammered out some sort of acceptance, then wandered home in a kind of daze.  They met the next night, then the next, and the one after that; it became their ritual.  By the end of the first week, William had worked up the nerve to hold her hand as they walked through the mall's courtyard under the moon and stars, and to ask about her background.  Her father had emigrated from Romania to pursue a career in computer electronics, she'd told him, and had finally managed to bring the family.

"I bet it was hard to leave your friends, maybe even a boyfriend?" he'd asked hoping he wasn't prying overly much.

"To leave my friends?  Yes, it was hard.  I had a boyfriend once, but he died."  She had looked so sad, it had seemed the most natural thing in the world to him to softly embrace her and stroke her silky hair.  To his surprise, she didn't object or pull away.  Instead, she clasped him to her and laid her head on his shoulder.  She began to gently kiss the side of his neck, gradually changing over to a soft sucking which became stronger and stronger, until—

"Hey, Annabella, take it easy!" he exclaimed.  "I'm all for us necking, but that almost hurt."

By the full moon's silvery light, he could see that her skin was flushed, her features reflecting some deep passion from within.

"I think necking is the best part," Annabella replied, her voice now husky with desire.

"Well, I really like it, too," replied William, "but I'd appreciate it, if you could dial it back a little.  My folks are glad I've finally got a girlfriend, but they'll really give me a hard time if I come home with a bunch of hickeys.  Could you, maybe, just do it nice?"

Annabella looked away.  Certain he had managed to ruin a relationship he'd never fully understood from the beginning, William opened his mouth to explain, to apologize, or whatever it took; the thought of never holding or kissing her again left him cold and empty.  The words stuck in his throat, as she turned back and he saw that her sweet face had changed to a countenance of pure evil.

"There are no nice vampires," she said coldly.

[891 words]