No Grave Fiction - Flora: Chapter One

Angie would not have said she was among the popular clique with the cheerleaders and the jocks, but it could not be argued that she wasn’t in the top half of the social food chain. This was due in part to her habit of casting glammers while other girls had to put up with bad hair days, and the one time when she had kicked Jeremy Wilkins’ ass for calling her a name put her firmly on the school’s assholes' “Do Not Mock” list. This was not, as her parents would remind her when she was caught doing such things, a responsible use of her innate magical talent, and she knew this, but she rationalised it in her mind by taking a determined pride in not being at the top of the chain, and certainly not acting like it. Angelica Lierte-Trance, Friend of the Nerds. She didn’t stand idly by while the prettier girls mocked her less fortunate contemporaries, no sir. She was better than that, she told herself, better than them.
So that’s why this happened.
“Why don’t you just go to night school?” Sneered a non-too-bright football player whose name Angie didn’t care to remember as she turned the corner, seeing three varsity jacketed thugs looming over a vampire girl, trying to get to her locker. She was identifiable as a vampire because she was dressed head-to-toe in a latex bodysuit. Most vampires did in fact go to school and work at night to avoid the sun, but Diurnals felt that integrating into normal human society was an important part of keeping themselves from the monsters they could be.
“My dad says Diurnals are just leather fetishists who want an excuse to parade around in public.” said the tallest of the idiots, with the air of a scholar quoting the philosophers of old.
“Hey, jerkwads,” Angie, known for her rapier wit, approached the group, “Lay off her.”
This would turn out to be precisely the event that was enough to drop her down to the bottom half of the social food chain.
Vampires were not very popular.
“What’s it to you, witch?” One of the jocks broke away from the pack to step towards Angie.
This question posed tricky for a few seconds while Angie figured out what it was to her. The answer she arrived at didn’t totally satisfy her, but it was all she had, “It’s just not right, is it? It’s racism. There was an assembly about it...” she trailed off.
“It can’t be racist,” Said the tallest one, clapping the one beside him on the shoulder, “Dave’s a werewolf, so it’s okay.”
Angie blinked a few times while she took this non-logic in. “Okay, just go away or I’ll set you on fire.”
The lead jock considered this for a few seconds. “Yeah, okay. But we’re doing chakra classes at the Y. Once we can lock our chakras, we don’t have to take your witch crap.” He jerked his neck to one side and walked off, his cronies following him.
“Are you okay?” Angie asked, because that’s the only thing you can really say in that situation unless you’re really weird.
“I’m all right.” Angie recognised the accent as British, but it wasn’t Queen’s English British, so she couldn’t have begun to guess which portion of the UK the girl was from, “Thanks for that.”
“Nice accent. Where are you from?”
“Newcastle. In England. It’s a lovely city, as long as you never look it up or go there.” Were she not wearing a mask that covered her whole head, she would have brushed some hair behind her ear.
“So you’re a vampire, then?”
“Did the PVC suit give me away?” She said with an invisible smile.
“Couldn’t you have done, like, some vampire stuff to get away from them? Like turning into fog or something?”
“My parents don’t like me using them against humans. We’re supposed to keep ourselves equal.” She said this with clear irritation.
“That sucks. I’m Angie, by the way.” She extended a hand.
“Jasmine.” She shook and did a little faux-curtsy. Her grip was light and dainty.
“Those guys probably won't give you trouble any more. Unless that chakra thing wasn't bullshit.”
Jasmine rubbed her elbow, “Thanks again.”
“Don't mention it.” The bell signalling the end of lunch rang over her words, “I guess I'll see you around?”
“Yeah. See you.” Jasmine gave a small wave as the two of them walked off in opposite directions.

*

Jasmine would not have said she was in the popular clique with the cheerleaders and the jocks, because she was in fact right down at the bottom. She had no illusions about why that was. She was a foreigner, she was a Diurnal, and to top it off, she was exceedingly shy.  Being a vampire was enough to get picked on in school, but even vampires picked on Diurnals. She didn't hate being a Diurnal. The movement and its members had the best of intentions, really. Holding on to their humanity so they wouldn't be monsters. But Jasmine was all too aware of the laughter both behind her back and to her face that most Diurnals got for their earnest attempts at being normal. She wondered how her parents ignored it if they even noticed it. She wished she was able to do either one. She was painfully conscious of even people looking at her, even when her bloody mask meant they were out of her field of vision.
That's why Jasmine sat at the back of her English class with her head down and in silence, casting occasional glances at the rest of the back row to make sure they weren't looking at her.
With five minutes left in the lesson and the school day, Jasmine began to relax. She looked across the back row to find a gaunt face in the opposite corner staring back with cold anger under a white baseball cap.
Jasmine looked right back down at her book, because she knew the face. It belonged to Peter Bones, and it was well known that his parents were professional hunters. He was shaping up to be a slayer himself.
He didn't like her.
As the seconds ticked away Jasmine hooked her fingers under her books and opened her satchel at the edge of the table. When the bell rang she scooped her books into her bag and pulled it over her shoulder as she stood and made for the door in a hurry.
Peter was already leaning on the wall outside the door. She hadn't even noticed him get up. She kept walking in the hope he wouldn't follow, but heard his footsteps begin behind her through her mask.
“Hey, vamp.” He called from behind her. She tried to ignore him and kept walking.
“Hey, vamp.” He persisted, “Hey, I'm talking to you.” She got through the front doors, but he was still following her.
“Hey!” He laid a hand on her shoulder and pulled so she face him, “What are you doing?”
“What?” She said meekly.
“What are you doing?” He repeated, more forceful.
“I, I don't know what you mean.” She insisted, helpless.
“I mean what are you doing coming to a school for humans?” As he spoke, he casually pulled at the sleeve of his jacket, revealing the point of a wooden stake underneath his wrist.
“I'm, because, I'm a human to-”
“No you aren't. You're undead scum and you deserve to die. Just because you pretend you're a person doesn't mean-”
“HEY ASSHOLE!” Jasmine recognised the voice immediately and hope flickered in her chest.
Peter flicked his head up to look over Jasmine's shoulder towards the shout, and was then flung off his feet and landed in a heap a good five feet away.
He got up with lightning speed and from somewhere had produced a knife, “FUCKING BITCH!” He shifted his grip on the knife as if he was about to throw it.
There was an extremely loud cough for attention. Jasmine turned her head to it and in the doorway of the school was Principal Snow.  Looking around, she noticed a crowd had formed in an almost perfect circle – of which she was the centre.
“Lierte-Trance.” The Principal addressed Angelica, at the bottom of the steps, without moving his head, “Two weeks of detention.”
“Yes sir.” Angelica responded with resignation.
“Bones.” His gaze snapped to the boy, a knife still in his hand, “My office. Now.” There was enough venom in the last word to kill the entire population of Albuquerque.
With frightening precision, the knife travelled into a reverse grip and then into his boot, Peter never for a second looking at it, electing instead to stare daggers alternately at Jasmine and then Angelica. Like a soldier to his duty, he marched after the Principal back into school.
With the show now over, the crowd began to disperse.
“We have to stop meeting like this.” Angelica smiled as she closed the short distance to Jasmine.
“Sorry I got you into trouble.” Jasmine lowered her gaze in apology.
“What? You didn't get me into trouble.” She gestured towards the school, “That dickweed got me into trouble by harassing you. Besides, I got off lightly compared to what he's about to go through.”
“Thanks again.”
“Anything for a damsel in distress.” Angelica flashed her another smile, which lit up her green eyes, “Would you like me to walk you home or anything?”
“No thanks. It's usually fine once I'm out of school. I don't think I matter enough to them for them to go out of their way to pick on me.” She cast her gaze back to the school as they walked towards the gate, “I didn't think so, anyway.”
“If you're sure, milady.” She winked and smirked, “I'll see you tomorrow.” She sounded quite sure of this.
“See you tomorrow.” Jasmine waved back as Angelica threw her arm up into the air as a wave, walking backwards down the sidewalk before turning on her heel.
Jasmine sighed as she started walking home. As if people didn't have enough reasons to bully her, now she fancied a girl.