CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
BUD LEROY
It’ll be OK, Lila.
LILA MURPHY
Juliana is gone, McKinley is about to turn,
and Viggo still thinks he’s being stalked by Illias. In what way is any of that OK?
BUD LEROY
I said OK. I didn’t say anyone’s idea of a perfect situation.
Vampire Falls. Season four, episode seventeen – “Alone On My Own”
I won’t go into detail about how Roxy found me once Fake McKinley gathered himself, but if you guessed along the lines of me being wedged in the lift doors, you’d be on the right track.
She helped me hobble from the lift to our room and, after applying layers of hair wax stick along my inner and outer thighs, Roxy managed to pull me free.
If we weren’t close before, it would have been an incredible bonding experience.
The first heat of the competition is about to start, and Roxy is nearly pulling my arm from the socket as we tear towards Conference Hall A.
Despite my almost broken arm, I am thankful she is on top of this competition stuff because, frankly, I’ve been a little befuddled since I stepped foot in this place. Yes, befuddled.
We flash our badges at the stewards as we bundle through the doors and I run right into the back of someone flicking her hair over her shoulder, catching me in the face. It smells like a sea breeze rolling off crystal blue waves on a perfect summer’s day, which is annoying.
“Better get your team up there.” I blink at Vivian, who nods at the stage where they’ve set up tables for the Vampire Falls quiz. Three tables of four. “You’ve got your little team together, right?”
Shit. Team? I turn to Roxy who blinks at me.
“Yes,” I respond, confidently, but it’s all lies.
“OK then,” Vivian says, backing away from us. “Just getting a lemon tea for my voice. Want everyone to hear all my correct answers. See you centre stage, bitches.”
She sashays through the doors and Roxy grabs my arms and spins me round.
“Did you pick up the envelope earlier? In the coffee shop?” says Roxy.
“No,” I say, my eyes widening.
“Shit, Eliza! I only glanced at it; I thought this was a solo quiz,” she says, blinking wildly as she looks around. “Why didn’t you pick it up?”
“I’m sorry, I was having a slight crisis at the time, Roxanne.”
“I can’t literally pick up after you wherever your trail of destruction leads, babe.” She releases a puff of exasperation then rubs her forehead. “Whatever. We need to find you a team. Like, now.”
Roxy and I look frantically around Conference Hall A but anyone who makes eye contact either laughs (because of the chair thing) or glares (because they’re jealous I’m a contestant).
Sadie sees us from the front row where she’s sitting with her brother, because, you know, they have front row passes.
She jumps up and scurries towards us, looking very cool in an oversized Vampire Falls hoodie, red leggings and leopard-print boots, her cheeks flushed with convention excitement.
She throws her arms around my waist and squeezes me, and for a moment I forget about the quiz.
I mean, I still have one eye on the clock, I’m not a total softie.
“Damon Van Schwartz gave me a signed cast photo!” she squeals.
“Did he?” I say, only partly envious and mostly thrilled for her.
“And he introduced us to all the other actors in the blue room.”
“Green room,” Charlie corrects her, as he joins us from his gold-plated front row throne.
I look at Charlie Chamberlain and shake my head. Correcting an eleven-year-old child? Is there no end to his reign of terror?
“You want to call it a blue room, you call it a blue room, Sadie. Don’t listen to this charlatan,” I say.
Roxy raises her eyebrows and nods at Charlie.
“So, I guess we’re in competition then?” she says to him.
I frown at Roxy, not understanding what she means until I look back at them and Charlie Chamberlain averts his eyes.
Of course: they’re on Vivian’s team. Sadie’s ponytail swings back and forth as her head swivels between me and Charlie.
I wonder if her brother ever told her why Roxy and I suddenly stopped hanging at her house.
After blanking me for over a week he actually called me a few times, but I didn’t answer.
One of his garbled apologies was cut off by Sadie’s squeaky voice, and my heart cracked at that little soundbite from our old friendship, but I was too far gone to break completely.
Charlie shrugs and takes Sadie’s hand, a defensive move if ever I saw one.
“Charlie? Sadie? Ready?”
We all look round as Vivian appears from the side of the stage with a porcelain cup and saucer in her hand. She puts them on the table then settles onto a (backwards) chair next to a slight, mousey-haired boy. I turn to Charlie Chamberlain who glances at me, blood rushing to his cheeks.
“She asked us earlier,” offers Sadie, wringing her hands together, her eyes taking on Disney Princess roundness.
Roxy puts her arm round Sadie, not taking her eyes off Charlie Chamberlain.
“Don’t worry, sweetie. It’s cool.” Roxy smiles at Sadie, whose shoulders relax in relief. Roxy leaves her side and walks past Charlie Chamberlain, the smile sliding from her face as she leans into him. “Just so you know, Charlie, not cool. You know what this means to Eliza. Not cool at all.”
“Why not?” he replies, trying a nonchalant shrug which just comes off juddery and confrontational. “She should have asked me if she wanted me.”
Roxy frowns at him.
“Wanted us,” he says. “Wanted us to be in her team. Vivian asked first.”
Blood rushes to my face as I watch the Disney villain taking selfies on stage, and before my brain can register what’s happening, I’ve stomped up the steps to her table.
“Why are you even here, Vivian? Why did you enter the competition? You’re not even a fan but you’re getting the best of everything because you’re here with Pride of Britain back there.
” I put my hands on the table, like Billy Big Balls in some Canary Wharf board meeting.
“Go compete for you own dream prize at the Bitch Cheerleaders From Hell convention.”
“Um,” says mousey boy, swallowing and leaning backa little. “This is way too intense for me, Vivian.”
“Oh, you signed up for intense when you joined her team, whoever you are, random cult member.”
I hear someone clear their throat and I look round. Roxy is mouthing something, looking from me to the small boy on Vivian’s team but I can’t lipread because of the rage.
“What?” I hiss at her. “What are you saying?”
Roxy shakes her head, then Charlie Chamberlain pipes up.
“Roxy’s trying to subtly tell you that he’s not a random cult member, he’s the guy whose helmet you barfed into the other night.”
I gape at the small boy, wondering how drunk someone would have to be to think this person looks even remotely like Kit Connor. Then I realise I don’t need to wonder, because I was that drunk.
“Toby?” I say, then look at Roxy. “That’s Toby?”
“Yes, babe. That’s your Kit Connor.”
“Er, my name is actually Toby. I’m here with my mum.”
We all turn to look at the woman Toby’s pointing at in the middle row. She looks up from her paperback and waves. We wave back.
“Well,” I say, bemused at the thought of wanting this fragile-looking person to take me home the other night. “Good for you, Toby.”
“I’ll take it from here, Toby. Don’t worry about her.”
“Yes, Vivian,” he chirps.
Vivian stands up and, not in the least bit intimidated by my Alan Sugar bit, mirrors my position across the small table like she’s Billy Bigger Balls, and looks right into my eyes.
“To answer your questions, I like to win, bitches, and I will win.” I snort and push myself away from the table. “And one more thing.”
“What?” I say.
“I am a fan,” she says, folding her arms. “A big fan.”
I hate to admit this, but I turn away and actually gulp. Roxy waves me back down as Charlie Chamberlain and Sadie slope past. Sadie looks up at me like a lost baby duck, so I give her the biggest smile I can manage before I reach Roxy.
“We have like two minutes,” she says, grabbing my shoulders and shaking me. “We need to find someone. We need to find two people or it’s game over.”
“What’s the point?”
“Do not what’s the point me, babe. I know you can win this; I know you can beat her. You know that too, right? Don’t let her flame-coloured hair trick you into thinking you don’t want this the most.”
I look over my shoulder at Vivian, who’s examining her nails, not a speck of self-doubt anywhere on her.
I’m certain about two things in life. One is that The Stranger from season five, episode nineteen is actually Bud Leroy’s future self, and the other is that I’m the biggest Vampire Falls fan in this hotel, possibly this country. I turn back to Roxy.
“OK, I’m back in the room. But I still need two teammates, like, now.” I look around. I recognise a few faces from over the years, but nobody I know well enough to . . . “Hold on.”
I stride down the aisle and stop at the end of row F, where two people have just sat down together.
“Dorothy, uh . . . Fake McKinley,” I say. Dorothy peers at me through her thick glasses, and Fake McKinley turns, his snout slightly wonky on the end. He must be feeling better. “Would you do me the honour of joining my team?”
“What’s that, Curly?” Dorothy says, holding her hand to her ear.
“Sorry?” A muffled voice comes from inside the mask before he removes it and wipes his forehead. “What did you say?”
I swallow, then look at Roxy who nods at me.
They might not be the team I’d assemble if I had more time, but right now they’re all I have.
I look into Dorothy’s crinkly eyes, full of confusion and possible medication-induced dilation, and Fake McKinley who still looks drained from earlier.
I get down on my knee, placing my fist across my heart, then bow my head.
“I come to you in this time of desperation. Please, say you’ll fight with me and the Vampire Clan of Sanguis and we can enter this battle with honour and hope.” I look up at them, crossing my fingers over my heart. “Will you join me?”
Dorothy blinks at me, her wrinkly face not registering Viggo Rassmussen’s plea to Vermillion Vasquebois from the season five finale, and I try to pull myself up, my heart shattering that I won’t even get a shot at the trip.
Suddenly, I feel a gentle hand on my shoulder and I look up.
“It’s been three hundred years, Vermillion, and I haven’t left you to battle alone once. I won’t start now.” Dorothy nods, then tries to cross her arthritic fingers over her own heart. “But there’s no way I’m getting up those steps, Curly. Not with my hip.”