Seven Minutes to Midnight

4

Whatever else you may read, if you have even read this far, you must know that these were all games to me. We constructed this world, where we were powerful vampires, as an escape. High school had become a cold place for us.

Daily we felt the scorn of our classmates. I did not care if they thought I was strange, if they stared or giggled. I had always borne this treatment, even when I dressed "normally." It is quite easy to ignore others when they behave like sheep. It is another when they start acting like wolves circling a kill.

Being a grade behind both Veronica and Frank, I rarely shared classes with my two friends. I was lucky to be in more advanced classes, where at least the minds of my classmates functioned. They could see that I was the same person I'd been since kindergarten, despite my appearance. They could see that I was a human being.

But Middlebury is a small town, full of small minds. I couldn't escape them entirely. Classrooms were easy places to avoid them. Hallways and gym class were not.

I could almost deal with the shouldering in the hallway, shoves from behind that told me someone didn't like me to be different. There was a small faction of deeply religious students who might hold my arm in the hallway and say things like, "Jesus loves you, if you will repent," or "I prayed for you at Sunday's service."

(After I told Veronica about this she found me a thick, ornately jeweled cross to wear on a red velvet ribbon around my neck. It didn't stop them totally, but they did approach me more cautiously).

Gym class, however, drove me into retreat.

I'll give you an example, although I'm sure you don't need one. All of us on the low end of the popularity scale know the terror of gym class. But perhaps you have managed to remain invisible on the radar of Those Who Have Popularity. Perhaps.

Toward the end of my freshman year, my gym class was doing a field hockey unit. My gym class included the pinnacle of freshman year popularity, Brittany Bowden, that blonde, busty picture that would represent every high school male's wet dream, the rose of popularity, if you will. And my class also included the thorn of that same rose, a barbed brunette named Shannon Lavoie. Both lack intelligence, but Brittany is trusting and silly, while Shannon is malicious and conniving. Through Brittany's wheedling and Shannon's extortion, they were surrounded by their closest friends in this particular class. I believe, had they been able to exclude students from their classes, that they would have barred me admittance—if only gym class was an exclusive club I could elect not to join.

It was an overcast day, the first remotely clear day in a while. As a result, Mr. Wheaton was eager for us to play outside, despite the mud. I generally got picked last for a team, so this did not bother me. I could care less who else was on my team. Thanks to a wonderful spot of luck, I was chosen for the team headed by Devon Granger, the self-declared "hottie" of the football team. Devon and Brittany have a severe case of the on-again-off-again relationship, and on this day they were "off." Which pitted my team against that of Brittany and Shannon.

Shannon's snake eyes immediately found the weak spot on a team filled with Devon's jock buddies—me.

I beat a speedy retreat toward the line of defense, as far across the field from that viper as possible. I didn't think those girls could get past an offense of linebackers, and they might not have, if two seconds after the game began Devon's pal Sean hadn't cracked another kid across the shins with his stick.

Mr. Wheaton stepped in, benched Sean, and called out, "Vaughn, up front! You've been on defense all year. Let's see what you can do."

Reluctantly I stepped forward, clutching my hockey stick. Shannon and her friends snickered loudly.

Devon, to his credit, tried to be supportive as the game plan changed. "Nick, you cover Brittany. Flirt with her as much as possible. That should distract Shannon. You—" he pointed at me (I'm guessing he had no clue what my name was), "try to stay out of the way."

And try I did. It was worse than dodge ball, where at least people expect you to run away. But Mr. Wheaton caught me. "Come on, Vaughn! Show me what you got!"

Gym teachers.

So I started jogging up and down the field with the action, albeit practically on the sidelines. Occasionally I would call out softly, when Mr. Wheaton was paying attention, "I'm open!"

Which I was, for the most part.

Once Shannon got wind of Devon's strategy, she stopped pissing a fit at Nick and started flirting with Devon's other friends. Soon Brittany was wide open, and made two goals before Devon figured it out. He decided to make a similar move—by passing the ball to me.

Okay, I told myself, I can do this. I can shuffle this ball along until the soonest moment when I can pass it back to Devon.

Then I felt a sharp blow to my shins and I fell face down in the mud.

I didn't even have to look up to see who'd tripped me. I heard a high pitched giggle and a cheerful, "Whoops! Sorry!" When I lifted my eyes, I could see Brittany's tanned legs prancing away.

I may have growled at her.

"Vaughn! Up and at 'em!"

I might have forgiven this as some kind of accident—of course Brittany had purposefully tripped me, but maybe she'd only done it to win.

I might have forgiven once. But it happened five more times. And one of those times, a field hockey stick managed to yank down my gym shorts, revealing a generous-sized portion of my chalky white ass to the entire class.

Ha, ha. Sounds funny now, right? It wasn't funny at all when my face was in the mud, my backside cold and exposed, hearing everyone in the class laughing at me.

There's no dignified way to come back from that.

The mud at least kept the heat in my face from showing through, but it didn't help keep my eyes dry as I scrambled to my feet, yanking my shorts up. Mr. Wheaton's reaction was to clap his hands and tell us to get back to the game. At least he allowed me to go to the locker room to get cleaned up. I made sure I was cleared out before everyone got back.

Yes. So. The vampire games. Just an escape. A pretend world where we might be more powerful than our tormentors. It seemed to be the only thing they might be afraid of. And if we sometimes also pretended to mutter hexes under our breath when a girl like Shannon walked by, can you blame us?

I've barely begun my tale, but I must put it aside for a moment—time to put the monsters to bed... those monsters being my stepbrothers and stepsister. Then I'll be all alone... and you'll have my full attention.

____

Author's Note: The song above is from the movie "Ginger Snaps." If you haven't seen this movie, I highly recommend it!  This chapter was inspired by the gym class scene near the beginning where they play field hockey. (FYI you can find this whole movie on Youtube, but I couldn't get a clear enough screen shot, so the song will have to suffice).