a story that i'm writing. i figured that it would just save time and effort if i simply posted the chapters here, seeing as everyone seems to love them...i'm starting from chapter 1!
Chapter 1—newbie.
Nervously I played with the hem of my new uniform shirt, my cheeks stained with red and heat seeping up my neck. Already the ‘popular’ crowd began to snicker at me, and I hadn’t even begun to introduce myself. I glanced about the room at the pretty Japanese girls, even the nerdy ones looked better than I did right now. My voice was quiet and shaky when I began my forced introduction.
“My name is Alice Yei…I came from Arizona in America. W-we didn’t have uniforms there. A-and nobody bowed to each other when they thanked you.” I blubbered like this for about ten minutes until the teacher cleared his throat and dismissed me to an empty seat in the heart of the class room, where everyone leaned away from me like I was diseased with the plague, all except for the boy right next to me. I shifted my brown hair over my shoulder to hide myself from him. The teacher began to drone on in a language I barely knew, and I struggled to follow even the simplest instructions. About half an hour passed by, and all I had accomplished was to make a huge mess of papers on pens on my desk. A low, handsome chuckle came from beside me and his voice whispered seductively beside me.
“Do you even know what to do?”
“N-no.” I muttered helplessly, feeling like a total moron. A large white hand flipped a backwards book on my desk with an awkward speed.
“Open this and look interested. As long as you LOOK like you know what you’re doing, he won’t bother you for a few weeks. That should be long enough for you to get a grip on this class.” His voice was sexy and bored. I didn’t dare look at him.
“U-uh, thanks…?”
“Nympori.”
“Excuse me?” I turned to look at him and I could feel my jaw drop. He was beyond gorgeous and not Japanese at all. He had an angular face and deep violet eyes, and the skin over those handsome cheekbones was a creamy ivory. I had the sudden, violent urge to touch him and feel for myself, just to make sure that he was really sitting next to me.
“My name is Nympori Travista. I moved here from Transylvania a few years ago…so I know how you feel.” He gave me a small, charming smile and turned back to his work before I could even figure out how to breathe. I felt like a total dolt as I shifted my hair back over my shoulder and did as he said—miraculously, it seemed to work. I got through the class without so much as a glance from the teacher. In fact, as I went through all my classes: chemistry, calculus, Japanese, and home economics, (all of which I was seated right next to the unreal Nympori Travista) all I had to do was look interested and I skimmed through. When the final bell rung and I gathered up all my things, I saw out of the corner of my eye Nympori stand gracefully. With vain hope I bit my lip, trying to dream of him coming over to talk to me. Of course he wouldn’t. I’m the drab new girl, I thought to myself gloomily. So I just threw on my bag and my coat and headed for the door. I walked alone down the corridor as girls passed by me laughing, running home to their families and lives. I kept my eyes on my feet, hating the change.
Back in Arizona, I had friends. I had sunshine and I had Mom. I was any ordinary girl there, with regular friends and a very bland life. And I was happy with that! I wasn’t some pretty, popular girl who had all the boys. In fact, I’d only had one boyfriend—and he never kissed me. He kissed other girls, but never me. I had two friends, who never called me. I usually sat at home with my mother and played cards. Then she fell ill with leukemia, and we only talked when I visited her in the hospital…
I brushed away the tears that had sprung up in my miserable memory and found that I’d gotten myself lost. I was down some alley in a street I couldn’t even pronounce.
s**t! I thought furiously, Now what? I’m such a moron! I looked around for an escape, a familiar street or location…nothing. Only a soft, sexy voice from behind me was familiar.
“So, you get lost Miss Yei?” I spun around to see Nympori, a grin on his face and his uniform open over his sculpted, broad chest. I bit my lip and furiously brushed away the tears that leapt to my lids. He bent down and looked at me, jutting his lip out teasingly.
“Aw. How cute. You cry when you get lost?” Nympori bent his face down next to mine and I stumbled over words like an idiot to get the right words out.
“N-no! It’s none of your business why I’m crying!” I tried to stomp away, but he slammed his arm against the wall adjacent from me, blocking my exit with his body. Somehow, he looked much bigger than before—more…dangerous.
“Now, now, Miss Yei. That was very rude.” Was he taunting me? I backed away warily and he followed me, refusing to let me get so much as a foot away from him. Apparently, he was cornering me. To be honest, I was both terrified and flattered that he, as breath-taking as he was, wanted to corner a bland girl like me; I felt lucky to be victimized by him. How silly of me.
“Like I care! Get away from me, Travista.” The tears were still coming from my aching, slowly fading memory, and I tried to hide them from him with my hair. He softly brushed my hair from my cheek, leaning his face close to mine, the smell of him musky and inviting—washing over me. Did he know? Surely, he must, I figured, He must use it on girls all the time. I was just another girl to practice his charm on.
“Why are you crying, Alice?” his voice was soft and understanding, his amethyst eyes melting and smothering me. I desperately tried to ignore his plea; tried to hold my ground against his unfair beauty.
“None of your business. Stop feigning interest and go away.” I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest. I know it sounds vain, but I wished that my bust was more impressive…maybe he’d consider me for real.
“I’m not feigning anything. I care about you. More than you will ever know.” He murmured, smoothly and sensuously. He pressed me up against the wall with his gorgeous—and awkwardly cold—chest, and held me there, my heart pounding anxiously against my rib cage, and the blood rushing to my cheeks. He sighed and lowered his lips to my throat and whispered softly.
“God, I’ve longed for this—your sweet blush, your scent…” he murmured against my flesh, and I couldn’t contain a shiver.
“L-let go of me! Travista, stop it!” he pulled away to grin at me. I tried to hide my physical delight at his touch—I very nearly gasped as his hand slowly traced down the side of my blouse to my hip and yanked me even closer.
“Never. I’ll never let you go, Alice. I need you.”
“Y-you’re high! Stop talking crazy, Travista!”
“No, I need you. I need that precious blood that runs through your sweet veins.”
“Let me go!” I yelled, “My blood?! What are you talking about?”
“I’m a vampire, Alice. And I need your blood more than anything else. I’ve waited three-hundred years for you. I can’t let you go now.”
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