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I thought about sweet, fortifying tequila, since all of the Courtneys were planning on bellying up to the margarita trough. But I wanted to keep my wits about me so I wouldn’t get wrangled into cleaning up after the petting zoo or any of the other undesirable jobs Courtney had lined up.
“Water’s fine, thanks.” The server seemed to sense a weakening in my resolve and continued staring at me. I took the bar menu from the little plastic console in the middle of the table. “Actually, I’ll have a beer.”
The Courtney on my left gasped in horror. Jenny sneered as I looked over the beer selections.
“El Torrente Sanguíneo?” he asked.
For a moment, I and my three years of poor Spanish instruction thought he was asking if I wanted a raincoat with that. I squinted at him. He pointed to a selection near the bottom of the menu. The little dark brown bottle on the illustration looked like any beer. I knew that Sanguíneo probably had something to do with sangre , which translated to “blood.” And torrente probably meant “river” or “stream.” So it probably translated to something like “blood stream” or “vein.” Was he offering me synthetic blood?
I looked up at the server, who smiled back at me, looking a little dazzled. Now that they’d been thoroughly horrified by my choice to drink beer in public, the Courtneys weren’t paying attention to what I was ordering. I guess they figured vampires wouldn’t drink beer and order tamales.
“Please!” I said emphatically, smiling back.
The waiter practically scrambled over the adjoining booth in his rush to get our drinks back to us. He set the brown bottle in front of me with a flourish, a slice of lime carefully balanced in the lip. I thanked him as he served the margaritas and took a long pull from the bottle.
Ahh. Sweet, slightly spicy, a thick coating of synthetic blood rolled down my throat and soothed my nervous stomach. I was going to have to remember this brand. The waiter watched me expectantly. I wanted to smile, but I was pretty sure my teeth would be blood-stained for the next few minutes. Also, my fangs were trying to creep out of my mouth. I pressed my lips together but nodded enthusiastically. I was going to have to tip this guy in a serious way. The waiter backed away from our table but promised to be back soon.
“If Jane’s done eye-flirting with the server,” Head Courtney said, clearing her throat and pursing her thin, cranberry-glossed lips, “we should start the meeting.”
Crap, I’d totally forgotten why I was there.
It was a good thing I’d elected not to drink. Courtney tried to stick me with petting-zoo clean-up, sitting in the dunk tank, and putting down the deposit on the inflatables (out of my own pocket, apparently, with the hope that the Courtneys would remember to reimburse me).
Each of the committee chairs was given a progress evaluation. Head Courtney wasn’t pleased with our work. Cankles Courtney, who was in charge of food, had neglected to think of vegetarian options for the festival attendees. (Because nothing says old-fashioned family fun like a tofu dog.) Short Courtney, who was in charge of publicity, had yet to secure an interview with the local morning radio show, so that Head Courtney could educate the masses on the importance of the chamber’s philanthropic efforts. Also, Short Courtney had ordered the promotional posters in an autumnal burnt orange instead of the chamber’s signature pink, so five demerits for her. I was failing miserably, and I was lucky that Jenny was there to save my butt. Head Courtney placed her right hand on Jenny’s shoulder while she pronounced this. Jenny tried to preen subtly but failed. I was reminded of the scene in The Omen when Damien realizes the extent of his evil power.
Seriously, could I buy my way out of this gig? What if I just gave Head Courtney $5,000 for the animal shelter? And then moved and changed my name?
By the end of the “meeting,” Head Courtney had four empty margarita glasses next to her plate and was starting to tell the other Courtneys what she really thought of them. Short Courtney needed to get her roots done. Cankles Courtney had, well, cankles. Toady Courtney had almost reined her in when Head Courtney’s gaze fell on me. At this point, I’d been pushing tamales around on my plate for two hours while watching my sister get fawned over. As far as I was concerned, Head Courtney could bring it on.
Head Courtney was swaying in her chair, her cornsilk-blond hair clinging to the light sheen of drunk sweat on her cheeks. “You think you’re so much smarter than the rest of us. That we don’t know what you really are.”
“Courtney, I don’t think you’re feeling very well,” Toady Courtney said loudly, her brown eyes wide with alarm. “Those enchiladas must have been rancid!”
“Oh, don’t interrupt her, Courtney,” I said, smiling and tilting my head. “I think she was on a roll.”
The jig, apparently, was up. And I felt a little foolish for picking at those damn tamales. Oh, well, I might as well have some fun with it.
“Jenny told us all about it. You think we would have let you in if we had known?” Head Courtney hissed. “We would never—and now, we can’t kick you out because you people sue for discrimination at the drop of a hat. We don’t want you to pull a Frink on us.”
Did she just call me “you people”?
The whole table was suddenly quiet, as if Courtney had dropped a glass dome over us. Suddenly, it all made sense. The stupid tasks, the poor performance reviews, the general bitchiness. It wasn’t just that they didn’t like me. They wanted me to quit. They’d managed to weed out everyone who didn’t live up to their standards through intimidation and misery, but they couldn’t get rid of me because I scared them. I was making them miserable by my mere presence. I smiled, letting my fangs peek out just the tiniest bit.
“Jenny, I’m surprised at you,” I said in my blandest tone. “I thought you’d be too ashamed to tell anybody about your sister’s shameful vampire condition. I mean, really, where’s the benefit in outing me? Aren’t you afraid of tarnishing your reputation?”
“Shister?” Head Courtney slurred. “What do you mean, ‘sister’?”
The silence was broken, and a rush of whispers rounded the table of Courtneys. Now it was my turn for my jaw to drop. I stared at Jenny. “You told them I’m a vampire, but you didn’t tell them I’m your sister?”
Jenny’s jaw clenched. Her face turned a pasty shade of oyster gray. “There was no reason to. My sister died last year.”
I waited for the twist in my chest, the pain of being rejected by Jenny once again so she could spend time with people who were better, more important than me. But it didn’t come. I was used to it. She’d made her feelings clear a long time ago. There was a freedom in just not giving a damn anymore. And Jenny had granted me this gift. I was free. I could walk away. Part of me wanted to, to give Jenny and the Courtneys what they wanted. I could quit and walk out the door so they’d have to pay for my synthetic-blood tab. But the more perverse part of my personality was intrigued by the possibilities. So, I did something that shocked the Courtneys.
I laughed.
Everyone at the table winced as I threw my head back and laughed like a big old donkey. I giggled until my sides ached. I laughed for every fat girl, bookworm, and wallflower who’d ever felt powerless in the wake of the Courtneys of the world. I laughed because I knew that when I got up, Jenny was going to have to explain to the Courtneys why she had lied to them. She was going to be left holding the conversational bag for once. I laughed because this was such a silly high school drama to find oneself enmeshed in at the ripe old age of twenty-eight.
Once I’d recovered, I wiped at my eyes, hoping that there weren’t streaks of blood tears running from my lashes. Other diners had lifted their heads from their tacos and were starting to stare. I stood up, prompting another communal flinch, and tossed some bills on the table, enough to make up a 40-percent tip for my buddy the waiter.
