Three days later, on the 21st, a Saturday, Dracula gets me up at 4:30 in the morning and says we have to leave. He says he's talked to my mother and she said I could go with him to Romania. He also says that she said that she's going to let the school know that I'm going on a trip world-wide and won't be back for a while and that I'll be doing virtual.
I moan and turn over. And then I register everything he just said. I bolt upright.
"You're taking me to Romania?" I shout.
"Shh. Not so loud."
I look around. "Where am I? This does not look like my bedroom."
"We're in Monroeville, Pennsylvania."
"What?!"
"Shh! Quiet!" he whispers harshly. "Now, come on. We have to get going."
"Oh, fine." I get up and get dressed. Dracula helps me gather everything and we go downstairs and check out of the hotel. We go out to the parking lot and I see the nicest, prettiest car in my life.
I gasp. "Who's car is that?"
The lights flash and Dracula replies with a devilish smile,
"Mine."
I can't help it. I squeal with excitement, not able to wait to see the inside of it. I give Dracula my things to put in the trunk and get in the passenger seat. I marvel at the sight.
"Wow," I breathe. I gape at the marvelous sleek, black dash. I look over at the steering wheel as Dracula gets in. I reach over to touch it and he smacks my hand away. "Oww," I say, rubbing my hand.
"Don't touch it then. Don't touch anything."
"Well, I guess I have to ride without a seatbelt, then."
"Smartass."
I can tell that he's trying to fight an amused smirk on his face. I poke him in his shoulder and he smirks.
"Ha!" I say, pointing at him.
He rolls his eyes at me and puts his seatbelt on. "Put your seatbelt on," he says.
"You told me not to touch anything."
He heaves a sigh and unbuckles his seatbelt. He leans over and buckles my seatbelt. He sits back down but not before sneaking a kiss on the corner of my lips.
"Where are we going anyway?" I ask as he starts the engine.
"I told you, Romania."
"So we're going to drive the car in the ocean, that's nice."
"Stop being a smartass."
"Why? You do it all the time."
"Do not." He pulls out of the parking lot and waits for the time to turn onto the road. He turns left and says, "We're going to the John F. Kennedy International Airport in New York. We'll get on a plane that carries passengers and luggage like cars to Romania from there. We'll be getting there by I-99. It'll take about six hours and fourteen minutes to get there."
"Oh, okay."
"But then it'll take about ten hours and two minutes to get to Romania. Bucharest to be exact. Then, it'll take about eight hours to get to the Borgo Pass, which is where my castle is."
"You're not telling me something I don't know," I say. "You live in the Carpathians in and a really, really old, crumbling castle pretty much by yourself."
"How do you know that?"
"I know a lot of things about you that you don't know I know."
He sighs. "Like what?"
I tap my chin in thought. "For one, I know that your surname is Mr. Balaur. You believed all of the vampire legends for centuries on end. And you didn't find out that none of the legends were true until right before you died. Your only weakness now is blood of the dying. Hmm? What else? Let's see. You also have a blood addiction that you can't control very well. You go crazy at the sight or smell of blood. You also--"
"Okay, I get it. You know a lot about me. But that doesn't change anything."
"Why not?"
"Because it doesn't. And it especially doesn't help that you're a gosh dang Van Helsing."
I smack him. "Shut up!"
He actually rubs his cheek with his hand. "Ouch. What is wrong with you?"
He glances at me and I notice that his cheek is literally bright red. And you can see my handprint.
I laugh nervously. "Sorry."
He chuckles. "It's nothing. You can punch and hit on me as much as you want. It's not going to do anything. I can't really feel physical pain."
"Hmph. Understandable. I mean, your heart doesn't even beat, so, I mean..."
He sighs and pulls onto I-99.
"Why do you keep sighing? The way you sigh is really funny, though. You almost sound like a dying cow."
He looks at me, shocked and I burst out laughing.
"My God! You have lost your mind, Nikkindra!"
"Yep! He's my God too, you know!"
He rolls his eyes.
I gasp, having finally managed to stop laughing. "You did not just roll your eyes at me, mister!"
He chuckles and mutters something. He speeds up and passes five cars in a row. I look at his speedometer.
"Holy cow! You're doing ninety miles an hour!"
"Yeah, so?"
"The speed limits seventy! The police are going to pull you over!"
"Not if I have anything to do with it. I'm not staying in that traffic. You Americans are nothing on the highway."
"This is an interstate!"
He chuckles again. "Oh, you're a hypochondriac."
Suddenly, I hear police sirens sounding.
"Now look what you did, idiot."
He laughs. "I told you. They ain't going to get away with pulling me over. Trust me."
"Trust you? Driving at this speed, we're subjected to having a crash!" I sigh. "And it's not funny! You're literally acting like this is perfectly normal! And you've got like, five police cars behind you, " I add in a mutter.
"You know, I heard every last bit of that. Also, I don't care if I've got five police cars behind me."
"You really are badass, aren't you?"
He glances at me. "Do what?"
I giggle. "Nothing."
"You're gonna get it, girl."
"When's breakfast?"
He sighs. "As soon as an exit appears, I'll get off on the ramp and go get you something to eat. Happy?"
"No."
"Of course not." He sighs again. "You humans are so hard to please."
"Yeah, sure." I stare at him. "I'll want certain food anyway."
"Oh, wait, I forgot. I guess you're going to have to starve because I don't have any American money."
I groan. "You idiot."
He laughs. "Not my fault. I'm not from here and you know that."
I scream.
"Shut up!"
I do just as he screeches to a stop just feet in front of a deer.
ns 15.158.61.5da2
