"Don't get too excited. There is one hitch."
"Really?But I thought you said-"
"I'll need to put a deposit down and eventually pay closing costs. I do have money in the bank, but it isn't enough. I just need to come up with money for a down payment."
The only monthly fees I knew about were those charged at Dullsville's video store. I was clueless when it came to housing costs.
"But where are we going to come up with that kind of money? "I asked.
"Therein lays the problem."
"I only have a few hundred in the bank and about sixty in my drawer at home," I offered. "I'll ask my parents for a loan."
"Enough for a down payment on a house?They'll just give that to a sixteen-year-old girl?"
"No -to you," I said.
"Her seventeen-year-old boyfriend?I appreciate the thought, but I don't think that would go over well."
"How much money do we need?"
Alexander mouthed a number that was way higher than I had anticipated.
"Where can we find that kind of money?" I asked, stupefied.
"That part I haven't figured out yet. But we need to before Trevor's father cuts a check."
Chapter 27 Naper Paper
I was under two deadlines: I had to raise enough money for Alexander before Trevor's father made an offer on the Mansion, and I needed to complete my essay-or start it-before our big presentation.
I had a hard time focusing on either. I didn't know how to raise money, and if we didn't figure out something quick, Alexander would be moving toRomania . To quell my nerves, I sat at my computer and tried to begin the essay.
But how did Mrs.Naper expect me to focus on a career or future when Alexander was going to be across the world? My only hope now was to enroll in theUniversityofTransylvania . Even if I had good enough grades, was accepted, and could affordit, that would be at least twp" years away. By that time Alexander could be married-/to someone else.
However, if I had a career now and not in five years, I'd be able to help Alexander with his house money, I tapped my fingers on my desk in frustration and tried to focus on the essay.
I'd really never thought much about what I'd want to do with my life other than becoming a vampire. How was I supposed to explain that to my classmates? I began thinking about what I loved-vampires, morbid music, hanging out in cemeteries. But what career would allow me to be me?A doctor? I couldn't imagine anyone feeling comfortable with me in a black surgical mask and dark scrubs coming at them with a scalpel. My patients would insist on healing themselves.A lawyer? I don't think the judge would permit miniskirts and monster boots in a courtroom.A teacher? The parents would pull their students out of my class.
And, did I want to spend the rest of my life in Dullsville-especially given the possibility that Alexander might not be here, too? I'd always been dying to get out of town, but when I met my true love all that changed. I once dreamed of a place where I wasn't an outsider anymore. And if Alexander returned toRomania , I'd be lonelier than
I had been before.
Was I afraid of being true to myself in front of my English class? Was I too timid to explore everything I might really be able to become? Was I too nervous to share my dream of becoming a vampire or anything else I might choose? I'd always thought my character was just as important-if not more so-than the career I'd pursue. I had to be honest about that-especially now that I'd made fun of Trevor for not reporting his true desires. But did I really have the courage that I was telling him he lacked?
I took a breath and began writing. Words filled my head faster than I could type them. I wrote about my passions, no matter how ridiculous they might seem to Mrs.Naper and my classmates. The once-blank page was quickly being turned into an essay. I was in the zone and nothing was going to distract me.
When I finished my first draft, I made some notes for my presentation.
Careers are about making money, I thought, but a great career was doing what someone loved-and being paid for it. Trevor should be a professional soccer player. Billy Boy would be a scientist or computer programmer. And Alexander would be an artist. But wasn't he one already? He had already won first place in Hipsterville's Art Fair. Now he just needed to be paid for his artwork so he could buy the Mansion.
And then it hit me. Why hadn't I thought of it sooner? We could sell Alexander's paintings in Dullsville's Annual Art Auction.
TheNaper Paper proved to be more insightful than I'd ever imagined.
Convincing Alexander about my brilliant plan was another thing,
"The Dullsville auction," I said when we met inside the rail yard boxcar. "We'll sell your paintings in the auction."