Sucks to Be Moi (Prelude) by Kimberly Pauley Page A

can’t
wait!”
    My smile slips a little bit. The girl reminds
me a lot of my best friend Serena. She’s about the same height and
has an identical sparkle in her eye, just like Serena gets whenever
she’s super excited about something. Serena and I even used to
dream about studying abroad, or maybe taking a gap year to travel
Europe together.
    But that was before my parents (okay,
technically the Vampire Council) had made me choose whether or not
to become a vampire. Before I’d turned and been relocated to the
middle of nowhere Louisiana. Before Serena had followed me and then
decided she wasn’t ready to turn herself (all the crazy Carter Clan
and Black Talon stuff being a big factor in her decision, not like
I could blame her for not wanting to be sliced and diced). Before
she’d gone back home to her bitterly divorcing parents and nutty
little sister and had her mind (hopefully not completely) wiped by
some vampire goons.
    It had only been a couple of months since I’d
last seen her, but I had yet to receive a single email from her.
Before she’d left for California, I’d used my newfound vampire mind
control powers to implant a suggestion so that she was supposed to
email me even if (please, please, please let it not be) the mind
wipe got everything and she really did think I was dead and gone
and not just undead and gone. But absolutely no word from her. Did
my mind control skills suck after all?
    “You coming, Mina?” asks George.
    I nod and grab my shoes and bag from the
conveyer belt. By the time I wiggle my feet back into my tennis
shoes, the girl is gone. I hadn’t even gotten her name.
     
    ###
     
    I’d thought we might get first class seats
since we were traveling with a famous vampire historian, but
apparently the Council had only decided to spring for three good
seats. Mom, Dad, and Dr. Musty were in the high rent section and
Uncle Mortie, George and I were languishing back in coach.
    “How’d you get stuck back here with us?” I
ask Uncle Mortie as he settles into the window seat, even though it
was technically my seat according to my ticket.
    “Same reason I get stuck at the kid’s table
every Thanksgiving,” says Uncle Mortie, winking. “I’m young at
heart.” He pulls out the Sky Mall catalog and starts browsing.
“Besides, I had to buy my own ticket.”
    Oh. Yeah. That made sense. George and Dad
were going to Paris to actually, you know, work . Mom and I
were along for the ride. Uncle Mortie had decided to tag along
because he’d always want to go to France (and it gave him a free
place to stay, since we were going to be living with Dr. Musty in
some chalet or something he owned there). Also, Uncle Mortie had a
thing for French women.
    Actually, he had a thing for women. Period.
The French accent would just be a bonus. Not to mention the food.
It would be a miracle if Uncle Mortie didn’t decide to stay
permanently. My mom had already confided her fear of that happening
to me.
    “Hey! This is my flight too!” It’s the same
girl from security again. She sits down next to me, sticking her
book bag under the seat in front of her.
    “I’m Mina,” I say. “Mina Smith.” It still
feels weird to say “Smith” instead of “Hamilton” but I’m getting
used to it. I only screw it up every other time now.
    “Astrid Villareal,” she says. She has maybe a
hint of a Spanish accent. “Nice to meet you.” She leans over and
pulls a few things out of her bag: a battered copy of the first Blue Bloods book (oh geez, a vampire fan), an iPod, and a
notebook.
    “This is my boyfriend, George,” I say. George
leans across me to shake hands with her. She giggles a little and
her cheeks flush the slightest bit. I don’t blame her. Becoming a
vampire turned George into a seriously good-looking guy, especially
his eyes. Today they were the luminous clear blue of deep water.
Not that he wasn’t attractive before or anything. He’s just cuter
now.
    He’s lucky I think he’s adorable