I don't like vampires very much.
Well, besides the Colon's. Every other vampire I've met either hates me, wants me dead, or has a furry poncho and evil red hair.
I also don't like a lot of other things. Rain, snow, mud and even mangos. But enough of my life story.
The blonde one with the pony tail bit me. And it hurt. But you'll see why later.
This was a short preface. So yeah bye.
CHAPTER ONE: SPOONS.
My mother, Ranishma, decided to go live in Florida with her husband, Peter for exactly fifteen years. I wasn't too thrilled. But hey, ping-pong (minor league, mind you) champions are on the go.
My preppy attitude didn't stop me from wanting to make my stupid mother go to the mall with me and me "accidently" loosing her for an hour. But I remembered last time. We had to pay for some things.
I spat. I didn't realize it was on my mothers face. She giggled. I dramatically rolled my eyes over and over, causing whiplash for no reason at all.
She sighed and cleaned the spit off of her face. "So I got a new phone. Just type in those numbers I gave you, and somehow we can communicate." Obviously, Ranishma was all in on technology.
"I know, Mom. And remember. You don't spell 'Belly' with an 'x.'"
She stood for a minute, staring at Peter, who was putting my amazingly perfect luggage in the backseat of the stretch limo I had him order. Hey, I needed to leave Phoenix with a bang.
I was moving to Spoons, somewhere in the Pacific North-West area. It isn't on the map, obviously. But other certain towns are. Just because some vampires live there. Pssh, right.
My name is Belly Duck. Why Belly? It's short for Bellianokiki. It was apart of the Indian tribe we lived in when I was little, and my mother had just divorced Charles, my dad. We moved to Africa, to live in a small tribe. Then we moved to America. My mother still enjoyed the African clothes.
I strutted dramatically, yet casually to the stretch limo waiting for me. I forced Peter to open the door, and get on his back. I climbed onto him and wiped my shoes on his back. You might think that was selfish and stupid. But I was (obviously) preventing the limo from getting dirty. It was custom in Africa.
I vigorously sighed. Spoons wouldn't be that bad. I mean, what's the worst that could happen? I could meet a vampire, fall in love, meet a werewolf, fall in love, and become a huge loser who can't pick between two supernatural men that millions of girls dream about. Or just not fit in with people. That would be worse.
I checked myself out in the limo with my Polly Pocket mirror. My groundhog brown hair was looking very tousled today. Sexy. I was getting some tips from this random British dude, Rob or something? Yeah, well I was going for my ninth week in a row without washing it. Score!
The limo driver started to choke. "SHUT UP!" I yelled kindly, as I sniffed my hair. He gagged. "What?" I finally asked.
"Does it smell like dead llamas getting eaten by vigorous rabid squirrels that just puked tacos?"
"Then it's my breath. My hair is far much worse. The stink doesn't fill in until later."
He rolled his eyes and put the little divider in the windows up. Then he rolled the windows down. I could hear gagging come from other cars. I smiled creepily to myself.
I actually couldn't wait for Spoons. Something about towns named after dinnerware excited me. That and sparkly vampires, but pssh, how stupid is that! I only find those in Puerto Rico. I hated that place. But that's another story.
I sadistically winked at an Asian man in the car next to us, who stopped gagging.
He made a face that either meant "call me!" or "Oh my God. Get the smell away from me." I assumed because of my beauty that it meant that he wants me to marry him. But I'm old enough to know that I only marry people under the age of twenty-one if they are vampires. But those aren't real.
I felt a sudden thrust of movement. I dropped the apple I was eating. It doesn't symbolize anything, mind you. I figured the limo driver got a whiff of my groundhog hair. I figured he was knocked out, so I had to break down the wall between us with my amazing beauty, and I stumbled my way to the wheel. Sure enough, there he was, all dead and gone. I smiled again.
I took control of the vehicle, wishing it was a big ugly red truck. I made little car noises that went like "vroom!" and such other nonsense. It made me feel more mature.
Eventually, I got to FIXtional Airport. I snapped to get someone's attention to carry my bags. No one noticed. I growled quietly. I decided to step out of the car, and that's when I saw the old woman.
I ran up to her and dragged her over to me. I threw my light thirty seven bags into her arms and told her to bring them to gate 70 F, which was at the total opposite end of the airport I was at now.
I politely forced her to drag my stuff along with me. I had four hours to wait, but you never know what might happen!
The old woman passed out. I gave her CPR. She recovered, and I gave her a penny to go buy some book that came out about a girl and a vampire in love.
After that, I realized something. I needed someone to carry my bags. I found a little boy. He looked around four years old, which was perfect. I told him I'd buy him some candy if he took thirty eight of my bags. I'd carry the thirty ninth- my handbag.
We got to my gate in twenty two minutes. It would have been faster if the boy's mother hadn't come up to me and screamed at me for "child abuse." I took three of my bags from the kid and threw them at the mom. She was knocked out. I smiled, again. Wow, I was on a role.
I forced the boy to pick up the three I threw, and continued walking. But we sped walked this time. You never know when angry moms wake up when you steal their children.
I stumbled my way onto the airplane after an hour or so. My timing is awful, I will admit.
I tripped over a couple people, causing some minor (extremely serious) injuries. But Charles wouldn't mind being sued again.
The plane ride was boring. I sat by an extremely large man. His name was Bobby, as he told me. He played in a band called "Trip In Girl." He said some things about "Fall Out Boy" and "hating them" and "making fun of them." My honest opinion is parodies are lame.
I fell asleep during the middle of his grandfathers "heroic moment in his life" involving guns and someone named Hitler.
I walk down a long polka dotted road. Ooooh, polka dots! Purrtttyyy. I shake my head, trying to focus. I see a stake (not the food). Then I see fangs. Then I see garlic bread. I scream.
I dramatically gasped. The airplane was empty. And there was a huge wad of drool all over my clothes. "Gosh, darn-it," I muttered. "Not again."
Charles waited for me. I saw him. The only thing that was in the way of us was dozens of people, gift shops, and three escalators. I managed to trip over all of them.
By the time I got down to him, he had gotten thirty-seven of my bags. I then remembered I was carrying the other two, after almost crying of losing them.
"Nice to see you, Melinda," he greeted me warmly.
I pulled out a pocketknife that I secretly snuck onto the plane. "It's. Belly."
He gulped. "Oh….wait…Sandy?"
I rolled my eyes. We got into the police car of his (he's the sheriff), while he guessed who I was.
I saw the Sporks sign. Population: three hundred and one. I was the one.
"I got you added to the population!" Charles cheered. "Wait…Delany?" I smacked him. "No."
We drove by the grocery store: Mack and Jacks. I laughed quietly to myself. I had a friend named Jack back in Phoenix.
Out my window, I saw a bunch of shirtless hunky guys who were way too young for me. I creepily smiled, again. They had short hair and weird tattoos. They were spray painting a wall: IF U LIKE WOLVES HOWL. I howled.
Charles smacked me. "What was that for?" I screamed peacefully.
I rolled my eyes. "I'm your daughter."
He gasped. "Belly?"
"Charles," I said, confused. "You passed our house."
He looked at me. "Why don't you call me dad?"
I considered that. "So turn back, Charles."
He nodded, and did so.
I hated this house. It was so much smaller than Ranishma's and Peter's. It was mediocre. It was a three story crap hole that stretched from almost the beginning to end of Spoons. My room was too small. Nothing like the trailer home back in Phoenix.
I walked out of my room, suddenly getting an idea. Since my room wasn't big enough for my cacti, vampire posters, cute werewolf stuffed animals, and my ego, I realized if we took out all of the up stairs, that would fit most of it. Then I remembered this three story house only had fourteen bathrooms. I needed them for my pretty pictures I drew when I was little. It had pictures of my imaginary friends, Taylor Stewart and Kristen Lautner and I. I loved them, even though I got rid of them a long time ago. Fourteen weeks and going strong.
I stumbled toward the escalator, down the stairs, and did a few accidental back flips passed the zoo. I smiled as I passed the penguins. Charles remembered. My favorites.
Charles found me with a couple bruises and a temporary concussion. He slapped me and that got me out of it. "Want to go to the café tonight? You can get your favorite, cherry cobbler."
"Dad," I scoffed. "Cherries are so last year. Bananas are the new thing." Poor, poor Charles. Always out of it.
Charles sighed. "I'm sorry, Belly. I just haven't seen you in so long…"
Before he started to sob, I said: "Fine let's go! But if anyone sees me with you, I'm telling them you're just a dedicated fan who one the Meet Belly Duck contest."
He smiled respectively. He grabbed the car keys from the table. "Charles!" I scoffed. "I drive. Give me. The keys." I love threatening.
He nodded and hiccupped. I grabbed the keys from him, and got into the car. I drove to the café, waving to Charles in the rearview mirror. He could walk.
When I got to the café, I walked in dramatically. Only three people fell when I gracefully walked by, and one even gasped. I hoped they remembered me from my old Spoons days, when I was the child star: Belly Duck, Kung Fu master.
An extremely ugly, skinny, clear faced, tan woman with amazing makeup was my waitress. Her name was Betty. Or Janise, I couldn't really remember. "Is anyone joining you?" Betty or Janise asked me. I shook my head, and then remembered Charles. "Oh, yeah. Just a dedicated fan. He isn't my dad or anything."
She nodded and brought me the chocolate milk I asked for. I smiled at the old man sitting next to me, who looked at me with a confused expression. I slowly sipped my milk and winked at him.
I got my totally not gross vegetarian burger when Charles came in. He was dripping in sweat and blood.
"What happened?" I asked.
He took a deep breath. "Some animal attacked me or something…I don't remember."
I rolled my eyes violently. "Dad, we need to get you to a hospital!" He shook his head. His ear was slightly chipped off.
"Because what if you do something crazy and end up in the hospital? Like jump off a cliff? Or if a car crashes into you? We don't need two hospital bills. These are desperate times, Belly."
I nodded. "You're a good dad."
He smiled. "Because I'm always thinking?"
"No," I said totally not rudely. "Because you finally realize that I'm more important than you."
We ate our dinner in silence after that. I thought I said something wrong, but pssh. It's me. I don't do anything wrong. It's always his fault.
On the car ride back, I noticed he was smiling. "What?" I snapped. He shook his head slowly and chuckled. "You'll see. Your present is back at home."
I threatened to kill him if he didn't tell me, and then realized that it was improper to threaten people with out the actual weapon you threatened to use.
He said that we were almost home, and for once, he was right.
There were two girly figures standing in the driveway. Well, one was in a wheelchair, but they were both men.
Charles skipped out of the car and went to hug the one in the wheelchair. "Dilly!"
I started laughing. "What kind of name is Dilly?"
Dilly coughed and slowly sighed. "My name is Dilly. You don't remember me, I guess. You made fun of me when you were three, too. Some things never change…"
"Belly," Charles said slowly. "These are the White's. The one with the weird long hair even though buff's name is Jack."
Jack looked at me funny. "What?"
I shook my head. "Nothing…it's just how I remember people's names."
Dilly coughed. "Sorry, I'm coming down with a case of the vamps."
I made a question mark face.
"So, Belly. Here's your present."
"Where? Is it behind the hideous green truck?"
"That truck is your present…" Dilly said.
I kicked it. "I hate it."
Charles smiled awkwardly. "Jack will give it a paint job."
"Make it purple. Just like the sheets on my bed that my dad picked out without telling me." I glared at Charles.
"So, do you want a ride to school?" I asked Jack nicely.
He made a face. "Err…it's ten at night…and I don't go to Sporks High. I think I'm better than everyone else so I go to a school where girl hair, tattoos and total hot body-ness is required."
I flicked him. "Get away from me."
He awkwardly walked away. I glared at Dilly, telling him that he's next if he doesn't watch it.
They left, and I went inside. "So," I said. "How much did it cost?" I figured knowing my father; he probably spent around five hundred to one million dollars on me.
He smiled. "Nothing. It was free."
…I knew it.
I stumbled past the circus area to find my room. "Where's my room question mark."
"Did you just say question mark?"
I did that a lot.
"No," I snapped. "Now where is it?"
He spun me around and right there was a purple door that read BELLY'S ROOM in big ugly red letters.
I nodded. "Ah."
A growl came from within me. "I'm your daughter."
Charles gasped. "Belly?"
I smiled again.
Most chapters end with the main (attractive, beautiful and sexy) character going to sleep. But I'm too beautiful, attractive, sexy and main to do that. That's Charles' job.
Instead, I was planning exactly how my day would go tomorrow for my first day in Spoons High.
I would meet some people, eat food, and come home. Oh and some weird supernatural thing.
I hoped I met a boy named Ednerd Colon. And some other kids. But mainly Ednerd. This isn't foreshadowing, mind you.