Chapter 45 The Stake MeLeave Me Trope
The week between Christmas and New Year’s was officially the dumbest time of the year.
Continued snowfall prevented travel and prevented the city from knocking down the house.
I continued to binge Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
Heaven had comments about the diversity representation, which were valid, not to mention the portrayal of vampires in general. Still, Buffy was Buffy.
Even though she’s a vampire killer, Buffy is my favorite. Beautiful, smart, great at cartwheel kicks, only kills the bad guys. And Angel—how is he not Vlad? Re-ensouled in the body of a hottie, loyal to Buffy, and atoning for centuries of wrongdoing? Ugh.
Just like Angel, Vlad left me at prom. Well, I guess bidding on the bachelor I wanted to date was the opposite of leaving me.
Midweek, Tyrone offered Heaven and me a sleigh ride and I came clean with him. “Your horses are scared shitless of me.” A couple of days later, I saw him and Jessica flying through the snow, the horses happy not to be dragging two vampires behind them.
Vlad and I kept a respectful distance from each other as we (I) thought through what we (I) wanted.
Not only was I falling in love with myself (what a relief), but I had close to ten friends now.
It was almost like when Buffy got an award at prom. (Dang, that prom episode really had an impact on me.)
Cat interrupted my Buffy marathon with a loud meow and Heaven walked into the room. She looked at the screen, and in a dramatic voice said, “Into every generation, a slayer is born.”
“Fun fact,” I said. “You know the best wood for stakes?” Buffy glossed over the science of stakes.
Mister Pointy looked like something Kendra had purchased from the Halloween store.
Real stakes were fire-hardened and with a handle that made them look like a cross.
“The best ones are made of Chrithmas tree wood.” I cackled madly at the thought. What had I been thinking?
Heaven ignored me and continued. “The slayer will get her lazy ass off the couch and make things with me.” Looking deep into my soul, she asked, “What are you going to make, Tiffenie?”
“Heaven, you know I can’t with the crafts. It doesn’t go with my fangs.”
“Everything goes with fangs.”
“You’re wrong. I saw them on a what-not-to-wear list for 2025. Jojo Siwa had them on, I think.”
Heaven groaned. “Fine, you and Buffy have fun.”
“We always do!” I called after her.