Vampire University (Book One in the Vampire University Series) Read online



  VU

  VAMPIRE UNIVERSITY

  Book One in the Vampire University Series

  VJ Erickson

  Copyright © 2013 by VJ Erickson

  All Rights Reserved

  CHAPTER ONE

  The taxi pulled up behind a row of cars and vans backed up so far from the freshmen dorms at VanCamp University that the usually bustling city traffic had come to a complete standstill. Crowds of family members and supporters spilled out into the street, and children darted between their legs. Among them their soon-to-be college students milled about, pretending not to be terrified.

  “Here is fine,” Taylor said and opened the door.

  “Are you sure, Miss? If we wait just a minute, we can pull up closer.”

  “No, thank you,” she said.

  The sooner she got out, the sooner she could blend in. Sitting by herself in the backseat of a taxi, it was obvious that she had arrived alone, but once in the middle of a crowd she would be invisible. No longer the lone girl in a cab, she would be indistinguishable from the other students who had parents, siblings, and friends all waiting for them nearby.

  Taylor quickly counted out the fare, while stealing glances to her side to see if anyone was watching. She fidgeted anxiously while the driver removed her two suitcases from the trunk. When the driver offered to help carry her things to the door, she quickly refused.

  “No, thank you. It’s not far. Have a nice day.”

  The driver shrugged and hopped back into the car, leaving Taylor standing alone on the curb. She strapped one bag over her shoulder, clutched the other in her hand, and began to walk briskly in the direction of the parade of mom-mobiles and city taxis, trying to blend into the crowd.

  She came to the end of the procession of cars and stopped, pulled out a folded piece of paper, and read:

  Summers Hall # 304

  Looking up, Taylor saw the name of her dormitory in shiny black letters that stood in contrast to the dirty grey stonework of the seemingly ancient building they labeled. Summers Hall was noticeably less impressive than the New England architecture that covered the brochures for VU. Taylor saw nothing like it anywhere on the street where she stood. Instead of stately columns, aged stone, and brick, the building in front of her was constructed from dull gray rectangles of indeterminate material. Aged metal beams criss-crossed the facade like faded ribbons wrapping a worn package. The building was windowless except for the top two floors, which seemed to be at least ten floors above the third floor where her room assignment would be located.

  She didn’t mind that these dorms revealed the university’s trick. They lured students with the promise of a beautiful campus full of historic urban character and then pulled back the curtain to reveal that they would instead spend their student lives in cinderblock silos. This might disappoint other students, but Taylor found it reassuring. The cheery world of distinguished privilege depicted on the brochures was not one Taylor was familiar with. This world in front of her, with its gray windowless walls, was one she knew well.

  Taylor gathered her possessions and her courage and turned resolutely to face the imposing structure. She marched towards the building with as much confidence as she could fake.

  Inside the front lobby, the chaos outside was condensed and amplified and younger siblings that were once running free, ducking in and out of crowds, were now trying to recreate the reckless outdoor scene in a ten-foot waiting area. Scattered amongst the confusion were quiet teenagers, looking around nervously. Seeing her new neighbors looking as alone as she felt, despite their crowds of supporters, Taylor’s fears calmed a little. She had imagined that she would be the only one alone and scared, but reading the faces of those around her she imagined that they might have felt as alone and scared as she did.

  She stopped in front of a metal sign pointing to the elevators and caught her reflection. Dots of perspiration had formed along her hairline that she carefully dabbed with the end of her sleeve. She tried to imagine that she looked like a college student, that her dark-framed glasses were the height of hipster fashion, and that her plain brown ponytail was cute and not just lazy. She told herself that she was an adult confidently inhabiting her world and not the freckle-faced child she felt like.

  Feeling unsure of herself, she pulled the ponytail out, letting her hair fall to her shoulders. After a quick glance in each direction, she discretely tucked her glasses into her purse. Her reflection turned fuzzy, but she convinced herself that these changes had transformed her from ugly-duckling teenager into the swan-like adult that always emerged in these scenes in movies. Simply take off the glasses and voila: makeover complete! Now, she tried to tell herself, she looked the part.

  She ducked into the elevator ahead of the crowds and pressed herself against the back corner. In filed parents and their children, their features blurring as they entered into her field of far-sighted vision. Taylor stared at her feet.

  At the third floor, she squeezed through the crowded elevator, apologized to the little girl she practically knocked over, and stepped towards her new home.

  She had spoken to her new roommate on the phone. What she knew of her new dorm-mate could be summed up in a handful of words: Hannah Cohen, freshman, undeclared. Hannah seemed friendly and spoke with ease and confidence. This had made Taylor a little nervous on the phone, as Hannah talked so easily to a perfect stranger that Taylor was sure that her new roommate must be well-liked and popular. While she was liked well-enough, Taylor was certainly never popular, and she worried about being the uncool roommate by virtue of comparative proximity. There goes Hannah's dorky roommate, everyone would say in pitying whispers.

  Taylor squinted to make out the door numbers. Was that 304 or 309? This was silly, she decided. Her Hollywood makeover would have to wait. Her new surroundings were nerve-wracking enough without being able to see them properly. Taylor reconsidered the glasses, quickly retrieved them from her purse, and put them on. She inserted her key into the door, but it was unlocked. As soon as the first sliver of light peeked through the crack of the door, she heard Hannah’s voice exclaim excitedly, “Taylor!”

  The door swung open from the other side, and every one of Taylor's fears faded away in that moment. A girl, grinning from ear to ear, stood inside with her hand outstretched.

  “I’m Hannah. It’s so great to meet you!” she said, forcing her hand a few inches from Taylor’s side.

  Taylor felt herself relax, and she returned the handshake.

  “I’m Taylor. Pleased to meet you too.”

  Given Hannah’s confident demeanor on the phone, Taylor had tried to construct an image of her in her mind using all the popular pretty-girl TV stereotypes she could assemble: tall, skinny, and fresh off the set of a CW show. Instead, the girl standing before her was nothing like what she had imagined.

  Hannah was small—at least a foot shorter than Taylor—and she was dressed like no popular teenager Taylor had ever seen before. She wore bright red khaki pants that were high-waisted, pleated in the front, and tucked into a pair of matching red flats. Her crisp white blouse was covered by a sweater vest in the same bright red as her pants. Her hair was short, straight, dark, and meticulously groomed–almost businesslike. If forced into a comparison, Hannah would definitely be the dorky roommate. What a relief, thought Taylor.

  Taylor took a moment to look around the room. It too was tiny. But unlike Hannah, it was completely devoid of character. Against one cinderblock wall, two nondescript mattresses were arranged in a row just barely off the floor. Between those, a tiny refrigerator sat on the carpet. On th
e opposite side of the room, particle board shelving and drawers covered the entire wall except for two spots with standalone desks. Just as the nondescript gray buildings calmed her fears, the unpretentious accommodations reassured Taylor. They were modest, simple, ordinary–like her.

  “Oh here, let me get that for you!” Hannah said while pulling Taylor’s bag from her shoulder, not even pretending to hear her polite protesting. “Is your family coming up?”

  “No,” Taylor said softly.

  If Hannah noticed any awkwardness, she didn't let on.

  “Well then, you probably could use a hand with the rest of your stuff. I’ll come with you!”

  “This is it,” Taylor said, her voice even quieter.

  Hannah paused for a moment, and the smile vanished so briefly that Taylor wondered if she had imagined it.

  “Well, you’re all set then! My parents couldn’t come either. They’re stationed overseas, so they just loaded me up on a plane and sent me on my way.”

  “Oh...”

  Hannah paused again. This time the smile was clearly gone. Taylor could see that Hannah was contemplating Taylor. She seemed to be wondering what Taylor’s story was and wondering if she was allowed to ask.

  Taylor knew if she didn’t say it now, then it would only get harder. She set her bag against a chair and sat on the edge of one of the mattresses, letting out a sigh that was far louder than she intended. Taylor cleared her throat and prepared to tell her story.

  "My parents passed away when I was young," she began.

  “Oh... I’m... I’m sorry.” Hannah stammered.

  Any traces of her earlier confidence vanished quickly.

  “Oh no, it’s okay,” Taylor reassured her. “I mean... you know, I’m used to it now.”

  “Oh, well that’s good! I mean...”

  Hannah’s eyes lowered.

  “I mean..." she continued, "I don’t mean ‘good’. I’m sorry, it’s just...”

  “No really, it’s fine,” Taylor said, attempting a smile.

  Taylor had meant to explain further, but even a lifetime later she felt it difficult to talk about, and it was not often she was given the opportunity to try. Everyone assumed that her uncle was her father. They shared the same last name, after all. And a single father, or at least what people assumed was a single father, inspired many gossipy whispers but few direct questions. Besides, she remembered nothing of what happened and didn't really care to. She felt fortunate that she was too young to remember the details of the fire that took her parents' lives. Her brother was old enough to remember, but he refused to talk about it, and she learned early in her life to stop asking.

  To Taylor’s surprise, Hannah lunged towards her with arms outstretched and dropped down onto the bed beside her, embracing her in a side hug while burying her face against Taylor’s shoulder. Hannah looked back up, and the uncertainty on her face had vanished, replaced again with the broadly-grinning confident pixie Taylor had first met.

  “Well, if there’s anything I can do for you, you just let me know!” said Hannah. “We’re roommates now, so we’ve got to look out for each other!”

  Taylor was surprised that she wasn’t pressed for further information, but she supposed that it was obvious that the topic was an uncomfortable one for her, and she was grateful that she did not have to explain herself further.

  The rest of the afternoon passed as if the previous conversation had never happened. For now, any lingering discomfort was dispelled by her new roommate. It seemed there was no danger of awkward silence whenever Hannah was in the room. Despite having unintentionally revived painful past memories, Hannah did not appear deterred from peppering Taylor with questions, but she carefully avoided any questions of home life that might lead to uncomfortable answers. So instead of parents, high schools, and hometowns, their conversation turned ahead to things like laundry, dining plans, and room decor.

  It was just as Taylor was beginning to really relax that there was a loud knock on the dorm-room door, and a female voice shouted through it, “Meet for dinner downstairs in one hour!”

  A few seconds later, they could hear her repeating the message at the next door.

  “They have scheduled dinners here?” Taylor asked.

  “Just this week,” Hannah replied. “Everything is scheduled out this week. Didn’t you get the orientation schedule from the RA in the lobby?”

  “I guess I didn’t see her."

  “It’s all optional, but I want to do everything. When are we going to get a chance again to meet this many new people all at once? With activities designed for meeting people! Here. Look,” Hannah said, thrusting the week’s schedule into Taylor’s hands.

  A week full of constantly meeting new people sounded exhausting to Taylor, but the schedule seemed harmless enough with plenty of emphasis on games and free food. Taylor found the first item on the schedule.

  6:00 Dinner with Family – Meet @ 5:30 in front of Summers Hall.

  Beneath that:

  Students without visiting family meet in Harris Hall lobby.

  “You’re going to dinner tonight, right?” Hannah asked.

  “To the dinner with family?”

  “No, not that one. The one meeting over at Harris Hall. It’s right across the street. For the outcasts like us!”

  She said this as if “outcast” was a title to be proud of.

  Taylor’s first impulse was to say no, but she didn’t want to disappoint her new roommate. Besides, the only excuse she could think of was that she didn’t feel like going, and she suspected that Hannah would make short work of that argument.

  Still, Taylor was somewhat surprised to find herself sitting with Hannah in the lobby of Harris Hall waiting for dinner. A college student sat behind a reception desk, ignoring them as he tapped away on his cellphone. The crowds that had filled the lobby before were now congregating on the sidewalk outside. There were a handful of other people in the room, and Hannah dutifully introduced herself to each one with the same assertive enthusiasm that she had first greeted Taylor with.

  Once Hannah had met everyone in the room, she began introducing people to each other.

  “Kyle, this is Amber. Her hometown’s just an hour away from yours. Maybe you know each other somehow!”

  “Sarah, this is Andy. You’re both English majors. Maybe you could study together?”

  Taylor was enthralled by the way Hannah worked the room. There was something deeply silly about Hannah’s appearance—in head-to-toe red like some sort of Christmas elf—but no one seemed to look down on or make fun of her. Hannah approached every interaction like she was in charge, and no one she talked to seemed to mind. Most of them appeared to be relieved with Hannah bestowing upon them the gift of not having to introduce themselves first.

  Taylor turned her attention away from Hannah towards the elevator door as it opened and closed, with a seemingly endless stream of students and their families spilling out towards the street. Lost in thought, Taylor was startled back to attention by a firm hand on her shoulder.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just was going to see if this seat was taken.”

  Taylor made a mumbling noise that sounded something like permission to sit, and a boy about her age did not hesitate to interpret it as exactly that. He was cute enough, in a boyish way. He would be handsome if his ears didn’t poke out a little too much or if his dirty blond hair had ever in his life seen a comb. He looked like the type of boy who needs another year or two to grow into his face, but still passes for a grownup when you throw a suit on him.

  “So, you’re a freshman?” he asked.

  “Any day now, yes,” Taylor replied.

  “Me too. Name’s Eric.”

  “Nice to meet you, Eric."

  “So polite!”

  Eric looked at Taylor expectantly.

  "And your name is...?" he asked.

  “Oh, right. Sorry! I’m Taylor. It’s been a long day.”

  “Well, Tay
lor-it’s-been-a-long-day, it is a pleasure to meet you too. So, is there free beer at this thing?”

  “I don’t think they allow beer in the dorms,” Taylor said matter-of-factly.

  He laughed.

  “They don’t allow a lot of things in the dorms,” he said with a wink.

  His face may have some growing up to do, but his eyes were perfection–the purest blue she had ever seen. She had never seen eyes so captivating.

  Eric confidently returned her stare and continued smiling.

  “Want to get out of here, then? Go where there are a few less... rules?”

  As he said this, Taylor thought she saw a shadow flicker across his eyes. She turned behind her to see what was casting the reflection, but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

  Taylor looked nervously to the side. While she was flattered that she had so quickly landed the attention of a boy, she did not drink beer and was not interested in breaking rules on her first day here. Alcohol and rebellion drew more attention than Taylor was interested in.

  “What about dinner?” she asked.

  Eric seemed genuinely taken aback at the question.

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “Dinner? Is that not why you’re here?”

  “Oh, well yeah, obviously. I was just surprised that you’d rather hang out with the RAs, that’s all. Think about it. Don’t you want to go check out the campus?”

  He looked at her eagerly, as if the answer was obvious, and she just needed to arrive at it. Taylor saw the shadow dance across his pupils again, but another quick glance behind her revealed nothing new.

  “I think I’m gonna pass. I told my roommate I’d come to this thing with her. I don’t want to leave her hanging.”

  Eric pouted in response.

  “How can I say no to a face like that?” said Taylor.

  He smiled confidently.

  “But seriously, no,” she said.

  His smile dipped slightly.

  “But, what about... I mean...” he said.

  “Don’t get told 'no' often?”

  “Actually...” Eric began, but before he could finish, a hand reached from behind, grabbed him by his upper arm, forcefully pulled him up out of his seat, and spun him around.

  “Hey Joe,” Eric said to the figure that had yanked him from his seat. “So glad you could make it.”

  The boy facing Eric looked like a taller, darker, and slightly more handsome version of Eric. If a few more years would allow Eric to grow into an adult, this Joe had already beat him to it and traded the dirty blond mop for a more kempt dark brown version.

  “Taylor, this is my brother, Joseph,” Eric said over his shoulder.

  Joseph did not remove his gaze from Eric or otherwise acknowledge Taylor. He looked pissed.

  “Uh... Hi, Joseph?” she said.

  Joseph did not respond and instead hissed something in Eric’s face that she couldn’t make out. He then began leading Eric by the arm towards the door. Eric turned to look at Taylor with a grin on his face and shrugged his shoulders. He held his thumb and pinkie up to his face in the shape of a phone and mouthed the words “call me” before disappearing out the front door.

  Taylor was going to respond that she didn’t have his number, but he was already gone.