Jessica's Guide to Dating on the Dark Side by Beth Fantaskey

fangs, too, of course."
     
    "So why can't I do it if I'm supposedly such a big-time vampire?" Sooner or later, I would confound him with logic.
     
    But Lucius shot right back, "Women have to be bitten first, I need to bite you. It's a great privilege for a man to be his betrothed's first bite."
     
    "Don't start that betrothal talk again," I said seriously. Spotting the first entrance to the outlet mall, I made a quick turn. "Not even joking. We're done with that."
     
    Lucius tilted his head. "Are we done with it?"
     
    "Yes."
     
    I pulled into a parking spot. "How about mirrors? When you try on clothes, will you be able to see yourself in a mirror?"
     
    Lucius rubbed his temples. "Have you taken basic science at Woodrow Wilson High School? Do you know the principles behind reflectivity?"
     
    "Of course I do. I'm the one who actually believes in science, remember? I was just joking." I yanked the keys out of the ignition. "So let's recap. You can't change into a bat, you don't dissolve in sunlight, and you're visible in mirrors. What can vampires do? Why's it so awesome to be one, then?"
     
    "What would be so wonderful about dissolving in sunlight? Or not being able to look in a mirror and judge if you've dressed yourself properly?"
     
    "You know what I mean. You keep saying vampires are so great. I just want to know why."
     
    Lucius's head dropped back against the seat. He stared at the shag carpet on the ceiling of the van as though begging for patience or guidance. "We are only the most powerful race of superhumans. We are physically gifted with grace and strength. We are a people of ritual and tradition. We have heightened mental powers: the ability to communicate without speech when necessary. We rule the dark side of nature. Is that 'awesome' enough for you?"
     
    I grabbed the door latch. "So why drink blood?"
     
    Lucius sighed deeply, opening his own door. "Why is everyone so obsessed with the blood? There's so much more."
     
    I dropped the subject. I'd sort of became distracted, anyhow, now that we were about to go shopping. "So where do you want to go first?"
     
    Lucius came around the front of the van and placed his hands on my shoulders, pointing me toward the Levi's outlet. I here.
     
    Five stores and about five hundred dollars later, Lucius Vladescu looked almost like an American teenager. And, I had to admit, a hot American teenager. He wore a pair of 501s even better than his black pants. And when he put on a loose white untucked oxford shirt—having decided that a T-shirt would be a bit too Real World/Road Rules Challenge for Romanian royalty—well, the effect was pretty nice. It didn't seem embarrassing to be with him. Not at all. Mindy would probably pass out, literally, when she saw him.
     
    "So how about getting rid of the velvet coat?" I asked.
     
    "Never," he replied.
     
    So much for not being embarrassing.
     
    We were walking toward the car, juggling all our shopping bags, when Lucius stopped short and grabbed my arm, dropping a bag.
     
    I turned. "What?"
     
    He was looking in the window of a store called Boulevard St. Michel, an upscale boutique with very, very expensive clothes. The kind of clothes that rich women wear to cocktail parties. I'd never been inside. For one thing, my dad didn't believe in dry cleaning, because of the "perc emissions" that messed up the environment. And for another, I couldn't afford one shoe from Boulevard St. Michel, even at outlet prices. Not even after a whole summer slinging burgers at the diner.
     
    "What are you doing?" I followed his gaze.
     
    Lucius kept staring at the window. "That dress—the one with the flowers scattered across the bodice—"
     
    "Did you just say 'bodice'?"
     
    "Yes, and skirt—"
     
    "The dress with the V-neck?"
     
    "Yes. That one. You would look lovely in something like that."
     
    Lucius had officially fallen off his already cracked rocker. Not only did he think he was a vampire, but now he believed I was some