Nightlight by The Harvard Lampoon

because that is a vampire-sounding name. What would my special power be? Probably the power to drink blood without a chaser.
    The mood was perfect. Veiled in dim light, the cemetery seemed to cry out, “Suck your girlfriend’s blood! She’s ready! She’s targeted! You don’t need to exert
any
energy—all you need to do is open your mouth and she can run into your tooth if you’re tired.” As soon as I realized that I was screaming this in Edwart’s ear, I stopped and politely apologized, stepping away to give him personal space.
    After one last nervous glance at the gravestones, he pulled me close. “Don’t. Leave. My. Side,” he quavered, hanging onto my arm and burying his head below my shoulder. It felt natural.
    I surveyed my surroundings and mentally formulated a description of them. Grave after grave poked up from the grass. It was like a formation of grave-soldiers, lined up in a grave phalanx of grave-like proportions. A grave sight indeed. I think there were also some trees and stuff.
    As we walked along the winding paths, I had a thought. It was a little thought, spoken by a little internal voice, like the one that asks if you are afraid of it and you say no and it says
if
you ever try to get rid of me you will live to regret it
. My though was this: What if I became an incredibly bloodthirsty vampire? What if that was the sole reason Edwart hadn’t bitten me, thereby destroying my soul? What if when his mom had offered me peach cobbler, I shouldn’t have eaten piece after piece until there was none left while his family watched with hungry eyes? Maybe I shouldn’t have eaten all the hotdogs, either. But I wasn’t about to rudely let all that human food go to waste. I still don’t know why, after making a plate of food for me, Eva served the members of her vampire family as well. That was awfully presumptive. What if I didn’t feel like walking around the table, piling their food onto my plate?
    “Edwart,” I said, deciding it was time to be direct. “If I were a vampire, I would have no trouble resisting people’s blood—even Lucy’s. I know I told you that if I ever became a vampire the first thing I would do is invite Lucy to an action movie in a dark, deserted theater, but I was joking. In all seriousness, the first thing I would do is bite a beautiful rhododendron, and win a Nobel Prize for engineering immortal flora that could survive even in deserts.”
    “Belle,” he said, taking both my hands. “If we don’t sit down, I will barf something up. I’m not sure what because I did not eat anything other than orange soda today, but it could be anything from my kidney to my other kidney.”
    “Okay.”
    After twenty more minutes of moonlit stroll, we settled down on the most comfortable-looking grave I could find, which happened to be covered in plush leather. “JamesC. ‘Leather-King’ Murphy, 1906–1975, King of Leather and Also Owner of a Leather Store,” it said.
    We settled down and began to enjoy the romance of each other, almost like a warm glow inside of us. This is the way married grownups feel all the time.
    “Edwart,” I said. “I am so grateful to be here with you. Are you feeling better?”
    “Yes, Belle. Much better.”
    I smiled to myself, and my future vampire-self. I was happy, remembering how embarrassed I was for this girl at 8th grade graduation because her dad was much older than all the other dads. Edwart and I would never get old. I began to reapply my grapefruit perfume so my blood wouldn’t have an unshowered-for-weeks taste when he bit me.
    “What’s that smell? Is it grapefruit?” Edwart asked. I was surprised that he hadn’t lost his memory about human food, the way most vampires do. But, at the same time, I wasn’t surprised: it really smelled a lot like grapefruit.
    “Don’t you just love being among all these dead people?” I asked, gesturing to the surroundings.
    “Well, to be honest, I actually think that part is a little weird. I