Beautiful Biters - an original vampire story (15+) WATTYS AWARD WINNER 2020

Surprises - good and bad

"Maya! Can you stay behind, please?" The class tutor—call me Madeline, please—put her hand across the door. So much for sneaking out unnoticed. I knew what she was going to say. With any luck she wouldn't hold me up too long. Sharon's back shift started at five o'clock, giving me half an hour to dash home.

The Make Up and Skincare diploma classes were held in the building at the far side of Dunrovia College's grounds. Students streamed out around me, snatches of their conversations drifting over. Friday evening beckoned. Their plans included sleepovers, club nights, meeting up at the student union.

Not one of them mentioned babysitting their little sister. The activity that took up almost all my spare time.

"You're three modules behind on skincare." Madeline tapped a pen against her clipboard. "How are you going to catch up before the end of the term?"

I inspected my feet, hoping Madeline might come up with a solution.

"Is there something going on at home?" Her voice softened. "Have you been ill? Caring for someone? You've been awfully distracted these last few days."

Distracted? Yeah... trying to figure out how to make money fast. The legal and illegal options. I'd typed "how to play poker like a pro" into the search engine hundreds of times. Fantasised about life as a card sharp, the midnight hours spent in virtual games with people all over the world.

I shook my head. "Nope. I'll read up on what I've missed."

A lecture followed. The skincare modules were a major part of the diploma. Was I sure I had nothing to tell her...?

Very sure. I promised one hundred percent attendance from now on. She gave me her passcode to the modules online. "Finish them by next week," she said. "Otherwise, we'll need to reconsider your position at the college. And if you have to leave here before you're qualified, well..."

Quite. None of the salons would employ me, and I wouldn't be able to make money.

Outside the building, Rasheda fell into step beside me, long dark hair piled into an elaborate up-do. "Haven't seen you for an age!"

I dug my elbow into her ribs. "That's what you get for not taking the same course as me!"

She shrugged. Rasheda had opted for PR and communications—an academic course. Four years, not two. As my family needed another income asap, a health and beauty qualification that gave me a licence to work in two years' time had been my only choice.

"And we don't go to the same clubs."

She nudged me back. One of us never went clubbing at all. The other one had to sneak out to them and lie about where she'd been.

Rasheda waited until we were beyond the college gates and the crowds thinned out. In the distance, the rock jutted out into the water, a looming edifice that looked either protective or threatening depending on your mood.

"I've been thinking about your money worries. Got an idea for you."

"We rob banks? Or become champion poker players?"

"Much better," Rasheda replied, turning left instead of right at the end of the main road. We appeared to be heading for my house instead of hers. As we left the college behind the streets, lined by blocks of flats and packed-together terraced houses, widened. Buses with blacked-out windows sailed past, returning their monstrous passengers back to the complex far north of the city they called home.

"Silver Ang, Zoella, Dee-Za-Teez and Missy M. All on MyTV," Rasheda said.

I nodded. I'd watched them myself. Make-up channels where the presenters taught you how to contour, draw proper eyeliner flicks and apply false eyelashes.