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“I’m sorry about the Jets losing,” I said, hoping to soften him up before presenting my theory to him.
He shrugged. “I didn’t really expect any other outcome. It’s the jinx. One of these days I’m going to find out who’s jinxing them and then watch out—they’ll win three Super Bowls in a row.”
“Really? Sports jinxes are…”
“Don’t even say it!” He dropped his newspaper and held up his hands, palms out. “Every time someone doubts the jinx it’s strengthened. What? You think Bill Belichick being the Jets head coach for only an hour was by chance?”
“Huh.” I had to admit that made sense, but I hadn’t come to talk about sports jinxes. “Have you noticed that a lot of students are out sick?”
Frank took his feet off the desk and leaned forward. “Yes, I have, but colleges are hotbeds of germs. The infirmaries are probably full at most colleges in the Northeast right now.”
“Are they full of cases of unexplained fatigue, anemia, and weight loss?”
“Truthfully, those symptoms could be caused by pulling all-nighters, living on bad cafeteria food, and dealing with negative body image…but wait.” He looked me up and down in a way that made me blush. “You’ve lost weight, too, haven’t you? And you look tired.”
“Iamtired, even though I sleep all the time. Could…” I blushed again. “Could a person be bitten by a vampire and not know it?”
Frank got up from his chair and came around his desk. He brushed aside my hair and peered down at my neck before I had a chance to object to the examination. He swore, his breath tickling the skin behind my ear. “I can’t see in this light…”He grabbed me by the forearm, pulled me from the chair, sat me on the edge of his desk, and aimed his desk lamp at my neck. He tilted my head right, then left, his blunt calloused fingertips methodically palpating my skin, his voice crisp and businesslike as he gave me a run-down on the vampire modus operandi.
“Itispossible for a vampire to drink a victim’s blood without him or her knowing. They would come at night, of course, but they must have previously been invited in. Have any of the Russian studies professors been to your house?”
“No,” I answered, and then yelped as Frank slid his hand under my shirt.
“Sorry, just trying to be thorough. I don’t see anything, but I’m afraid you’ll have to check the femoral artery. Do you know where the femoral artery is?”
“Yes,” I said, blushing even more.
“Do you sleep alone?” he asked.
“Uh…no…” I could feel the blood heating my whole chest now. I hoped Frank didn’t think it was a reaction to his touch. Because it wasn’t.
“Then it’s probably not a vampire attack. Still, I’ll look into it.”
The only thing he was looking into right now was my cleavage.
“Hey, I don’t think vampires bitethere.”
Frank’s mouth quirked into a crooked grin. “No?” he asked, straightening the collar of my shirt. He was just stepping away when I heard a step behind him. I looked up, over Frank’s shoulder, and saw Liam standing in the hall, his face white, his eyes wide.
I opened my mouth to call his name, but he was already gone, vanished so quickly I almost thought I’d imagined him. But that was just wishful thinking.
I pushed Frank away—or tried to. Frank’s chest was a solid obstacle. “Liam?” he asked, pursing his lips to keep from grinning.“Uh-oh. That probably didn’t look so good from his angle.”
“I’ve got to catch him.” I tried pushing Frank again and this time he stepped aside.
“I’m sure you’ll come up with a very reasonable explanation for why I had my hand down your shirt.” He was grinning now, not trying to hide his amusement. “Let me know what you come up with. I’ll be happy to back you up.”
I opened my mouth to reply but realized I didn’t have time to spar with him. “Just look into why all our students are getting sick,” I snapped as I left the room. “I’ll take care of Liam.”
I didn’t look back, but I could hear Frank’s laughter echoing in the stairwell as I ran down the four flights. I was hoping Liam had gone back to his classroom as there were twenty minutes left to his class period—what had he been doing upstairs anyway? Maybe he’d come up to get a book from his office?—but I found his classroom empty except for a tow-headed boy sleeping with his head pillowed on his arms.
“Hey.” I shook the boy’s shoulder. When he looked up at me blearily I recognized him from his tattoo as the Weezer fan who’d been snoozing in the infirmary earlier. “What happened to the creative writing class that meets in here?”
“Yeah, that’s my class, man. I’m here. I made it to class.”
“Uh-huh, good for you. So where are the rest of the students and where’s Mr. Doyle?”
“Liam? Hey, he’s cool…” The boy rubbed his eyes and looked around the empty classroom. “Hey, where’d everybody go?”
