Big Vamp on Campus - Molly Harper Page 0,15

my own Jamie was guilty of focusing far too much on sports and his “bros” and not enough on academics. I couldn’t help but compare my boyfriend and his easygoing inertia to this vampire, who seemed to be soaking up knowledge like a sponge.

Why were all of my classmates standing up?

Snapping out of my reverie, I looked down at my notebook and realized that while I’d been mentally cataloguing my neighbor, Dr. Venger had finished his lecture. And despite my distraction, I’d managed to write the whole thing down. Vampire brains were frightening and mysterious things.

I stood and stuffed my notebooks and pens into my book bag. I needed to get back to my room and call Jamie. That would make this anxious, somehow guilty feeling in the pit of my stomach go away. The feelings themselves weren’t nearly as distressing as the idea that I was experiencing them. I didn’t feel guilt, not even when I’d snapped my roommate’s clavicle like a Popsicle stick. So why did I feel rushed and contrite now, when I hadn’t done anything wrong?

“So are you going to the seminar Dr. Venger recommended?”

I turned to find Kenton smiling at me, those bright fangs flashing.

“The seminar next Saturday on the impact of Sumerian poetry on modern literature,” he added, smirking a little. “Dr. Venger said it wasn’t required, but I think it would be really helpful to get more in-depth details on the subject. It’s so fascinating, don’t you think?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” I said, slinging my bag over my shoulder. “I’m not sure what my plans are for the weekend.” Because Jamie hadn’t told me what his plans were, I noted silently, with some degree of resentment.

“Ophelia, right?”

I nodded.

“A beautiful though tragic name,” he said. “I’m Kenton. Not quite as beautiful but serviceable. Well, I hope to see you there. We could even go for a drink before, if you’d like. It’s always easier for me to handle exposure to big groups of humans if I fill up beforehand. I know this great locally sourced blood bar just off campus.”

Why wasn’t I talking? Why couldn’t I produce words? Why had my tongue, so sharp and trusted over the years, abandoned me now?

“It doesn’t have to be a date,” Kenton said. “Just a casual hangout. It’s nice to have another vampire in class, one who takes the same diligent notes that I do.”

“That could be pleasant,” I conceded.

“Well, just friend me, and we’ll set up the details, OK?”

I waved and kept a neutral expression while Kenton strode out of class. What was I doing? I couldn’t go out with some boy next weekend. I had a bloodmate. A handsome, perfectly sweet boyfriend, who would probably prefer paintball or Ultimate Frisbee to attending a seminar on Sumerian poetry.

I sighed, pressing my fingers against my temples.

“I wouldn’t go if I were you,” a sweet, breathy voice said behind me. “That guy is a pretentious douche. He took a friend of mine to a play and spent the rest of the night quizzing her on her opinions, then explaining how her opinions were wrong.”

I glanced up to see a brunette from one of the human floors in New Dawn smiling down at me with guarded friendliness. What was her name? Keagan? Morgan? No, Meagan. Meagan Keene. Keagan and Morgan were her friends, who were also brunettes who lived on the fourth floor of my hall. I thought of them as the Gan Girls. They seemed to travel in a small pack most of the time, giggling and chatting at a speed that was difficult even for my vampire ears to pick up. But when they were separated, they seemed smaller, less bold, and a little more wary. I preferred them wary.

With her sweet heart-shaped face and wide brown eyes, Meagan was the girl who’d told me, in halting and very careful words on the first day of class, that it wasn’t cool to carry a sequined Hello Kitty backpack around campus. And that unless I wanted to end up as a “Back-to-School Glamour Don’t,” I needed to burn said backpack immediately. While I respected her honesty, I missed my freaking backpack.

She was smiling at me now with an expectant expression, the kind that generally meant an expectation of response. I cleared my throat and curled my upper lip in disdain.

“There’s nothing worse than a guy forever stuck in hipster undergrad phase,” Meagan added, offering me a sympathetic smile.

“Right,” I intoned, nodding, despite the fact that she seemed awfully