Vampire High Sophomore Year - By Douglas Rees Page 0,40

first place.

“Know what I did when she backstabbed me?” Turk went on.

“Let me guess,” I said. “Did an art project about it with baling wire and old refrigerator parts, and sold if for ten thousand dollars.”

“Learned how to drive,” Turk said.

We were coming into Squibnocket now. It was one of those towns that haven’t changed much in the last few hundred years. A covered bridge led into it, and the biggest building was a stone church with a bell tower.

Turk headed in to the church parking lot. A sign by the driveway said, YOU ARE WELCOME TO OUR PARKING LOT AND TO OUR CHURCH. ST. BIDDULPH’S EPISCOPAL CHURCH.

“I played water polo against these guys,” I said.

“Spare me the jock talk,” Turk said, and parked the car.

She opened the door and walked around to my side of the car.

“Get out,” she said.

“Why?” I said.

Turk shook her head.

“Why did I get all the brains in the family?” she said. “I’m teaching you to drive, Cuz.”

Turk was being nice to me. Amazing. But I wasn’t in the mood to be amazed. I just sat there.

“Why?” I said.

“Because the way you’re feeling right now is the way I feel most of the time,” Turk said. “It’s nice to have company. Even yours.”

I got out and slid in behind the wheel.

When Turk was beside me, she said, “You know gas from clutch?”

I nodded. That was one of the things about driving I already knew.

“Then show me,” she said.

I turned the key. The noisy little engine roared behind us.

“Let the clutch out sloooowly,” Turk said.

I did, but not slowly enough. There was a loud bang-thump, and the car stopped.

I swore.

“No problem,” Turk said. “Do it again.”

Ten or twenty tries and I was beginning to get the hang of it. And no matter how many times I killed that engine, Turk never lost her cool or said anything sarcastic.

“Okay,” she said after I had managed to start and stop the car several times in a row without any mistakes. “That is reverse gear. Put us in it.”

I did, and after three tries I got it right. The car began to move backward. Because I was doing it. Slowly, slowly. I didn’t want to have any more nasty moments involving the clutch.

I did, and we were facing in a whole new direction.

“Now it starts to get interesting,” Turk said. “That is first gear. Put us into first gear and drive us forward. Forward is the opposite of the way we have been going. Turn the wheel so the pointy end of the car goes that way.”

I snickered. If Turk was starting to get razor-tongued again, I must be doing all right.

I ground, bashed, and lurched through the three forward gears, over and over, trying to figure out where the point was where you eased into the next one. Around and around that parking lot for more than an hour.

It didn’t change anything, but it gave me something else to think about. I had to pay attention to that engine, those pedals, that gearshift. Oh, and the steering wheel. The steering wheel was very important.

Turk kept telling me to do this, try that, change what I was doing to something else, but always in her calm, low voice. She had a good voice, really. I’d never noticed it before.

By the end of the lesson, I could go from a cold stop to third gear without jerking, killing the engine, or making the transmission fall out. Driving around the parking lot at twenty-five or thirty miles an hour felt like a NASCAR rally to me. And really, it was the same thing. Just a lot slower.

“Well, Cuz, I think you’ve got it,” Turk said. “Too bad I have to give up my wheels tomorrow. With a little more practice, you could be a real menace to navigation.”

“Thanks, Turk,” I said.

“Whatever,” she said. “Let me take over now.”

We drove back to New Sodom through a night that was so sad and so beautiful I wanted to cry. And the weird thing was, Turk had been right. Nothing had changed. I still had to go back to Vlad knowing that Ileana and Justin wouldn’t talk to me. But right now, driving with Turk beside me, I was in a place where it didn’t matter quite as much. Maybe something had changed a little after all.

17

I don’t know what time it was when I finally got to sleep. All I know is, my phone buzzed way too early.

And it was Gregor.

“Gadje, how did