Sucks to Be Moi (Prelude) (2 page)

“What?” I ask, still wondering what George
might be planning. Midnight walks along the Seine? Dinner at the
Eiffel Tower? I’ve heard they have a restaurant right in the
thing.

“Some really hot guy in the back of the plane
was totally flirting with me!” She takes off her glasses and runs
her fingers through her hair. “Can you believe it? With me looking
like this?”

She looks fine to me. Okay, maybe like she’s
been on a plane for hours, but hey, so have we all. I smile at her.
“Maybe he’s got good taste,” I say. She so reminds me of Serena,
especially before Serena got together with Nathan.

Astrid laughs. “My mom would definitely not
approve,” she says. “He’s got a piercing in his eyebrow and he’s
got a crazy tattoo on his arm. I don’t even normally go for that
type exactly, but this guy is just—” she practically melts into her
seat “—amazing. And he’s French.”

“Well,” I say, “when in France…” I mean,
after all, Paris is the city of love, right? What better time to
explore your options? Not that I had a lot of experience with crazy
hot French guys flirting with me, but hey. It’s what I’d tell
Serena if she were here. Well, if she weren’t dating Nathan. “As
long as you don’t have a boyfriend, why not?”

“Yeah,” she smiles dreamily. “Maybe…”

“The plane is going to land pretty soon,”
says George, who has apparently been eavesdropping the whole
time.

I shoot him a look when Astrid flushes a
little. He should know better than to butt into girl talk. “So,” I
tell her, “if you wanna do something about it, now is the time.” I
hand her the iPod and her notebook after I scribble our Parisian
address and my cell phone number in it. “Is there an empty seat by
him?”

“Like a whole row,” she says, taking her
stuff and picking up her book bag.

“So go!” I say. “And remember to call me
later to tell me what happened!” Mom would be so proud of me. Not
for encouraging Astrid to flirt with some tattooed stranger on a
plane, but for actually making a friend. She keeps telling me I
need to get Serena off my mind. She just doesn’t understand how
impossible that is. Serena will always be my best friend, no matter
what. But Astrid seems pretty nice.

Astrid smiles a dazzling smile at me and
takes off for the back of the plane without another word. Man, that
guy must be really cute. Maybe even as cute as my guy.

I smile at George, but he’s already engrossed
in the same old book again. Or maybe it was a new one. It was hard
to tell. All of Dr. Musty’s books were old, bound in leather, and
smelled as dusty has he did.

###

“There wasn’t a single decent movie on this
flight,” says Uncle Mortie as he’s getting his bag out of the
overhead compartment.

“So why did you watch them all?” I ask. He’d
been glued to the little bitty screen the entire flight.

“What else was I to do?” asks Uncle Mortie.
“All the stewardesses were married.”

George and I groan. How my balding,
pot-bellied Uncle Mortie ever gets a date is beyond me. We grab our
bags too and follow Uncle Mortie off of the plane. I look a few
times, but I don’t see Astrid or her hot guy anywhere. He must have
been seated at the very back of the plane.

We make it through the interminable line in
Customs, still with no sign of Astrid. I’m really glad I’m not
traveling on my own like she is. The Charles de Gaulle airport is
pretty crazy and I have no idea where I’m supposed to go. All the
signs are in French and the only one I recognize is the toilet one
and knowing my luck, I’d probably mistake the guy’s bathroom for
the girl’s. We finally make it to the baggage claim.

“How was your flight, Mina?” asks Mom, as
George scans the baggage carousel for our bags. Dad and Dr. Musty
are off to the side discussing something intently.

“Good,” I say. “I made a new friend.”

“Oh?” she says with a huge smile. See, I knew
she’d like that. Not that Astrid or anyone else could ever replace
Serena.

I’m telling Mom all about Astrid when I
finally spot my new friend all the way across baggage claim,
completely in the wrong area. “Oh, there she is, Mom,” I say,
pointing in Astrid’s direction. “Hey, Astrid!” I yell. “Our
flight’s baggage claim is over here!”

Astrid doesn’t even turn in my direction,
though half the people milling around in the airport do, including
the guy standing right by her. He’s obviously the dude she was
talking about. With my vampire-enhanced eyesight, I can see he is
seriously attractive, in a dangerous kind of way. He has longish
dark hair pulled loosely back from his face and very ice blue
intense eyes (especially the one with the hoop earring through his
eyebrow). His cheekbones could practically cut paper, they are so
defined, and his lips, while rather full and red, have a sardonic
twist to them completely unlike George’s devilish grin. Total
pirate.

He stares right at me and his grin spreads
across his face in a downright challenging way. Sexy, yeah, but
completely dangerous. If I’d seen him first, I don’t think I would
have encouraged Astrid to talk to him. He looks rock star intense
and that, in my limited experience, is never good. Then he casually
pulls up his shirtsleeve to reveal the tattoo Astrid had mentioned,
staring me right in the eyes the whole time. Can he even really see
me from all the way over there? I tear my eyes away from his and
glance down at this arm.

She had most definitely
not
mentioned
what he had a tattoo of.

A skeletal bird’s talon grasping a human
heart. I can even make out the drips of blood coming off of the
talons. Five drips. That meant five unauthorized turnings.

“A Black Talon!” I yelp and take off running
towards them, leaving my bag behind at Mom’s feet. I can hear
George following after me. I dodge around suitcases and travelers,
leaping over a giant duffle bag and nearly taking out a couple of
tourists. But when I get there, Astrid and the guy are gone. All
that’s left is her book bag. Sitting on top of it is her notebook,
opened to the page I had written down my contact information. That
part of the page had been torn out and scribbled across what was
left were the words “Welcome to Paris, Mina” and, strangely enough,
a smiley face. With fangs.

Why It Still Sucks to Be Me (Even Though I’m in
Paris)

1. I actually make a new friend and she gets
   kidnapped (hopefully nothing worse) by a Black Talon.
   

2. Who apparently knew exactly who we
   (especially me) were. And not just who we were, but what plane we
   were going to be on.
   

3. Which apparently also means that there’s a
   leak or a traitor or whatever you want to call it somewhere within
   the Council(s), either in the U.S. or here in France. Or maybe
   within the VRA.
   

4. Not to mention, Dr. Musty’s “chateau” in
   Montmartre (the 18th arrondissement, which is kind of like a
   district or, I guess, a neighborhood) is less than palatial. Not as
   bad as our house in Cartville was, but with only four rooms total
   and six people, privacy is obviously going to be hard to come
   by.
   

5. Not to mention it’s a fifth floor walkup.
   Or, actually, that’s like a sixth floor walkup since they count
   floors differently here. Okay, yeah, I’ve got, like, vampire
   stamina and all that, but still. That’s a lot of stairs.
   

THE END (or, rather, THE BEGINNING)

A Note from the Author
: This
short story is the beginning of the continuation of the Sucks to Be
Me series. The character Astrid is based on the real-life Astrid
Villareal, who won a contest and a chance to appear in a story with
Mina. Whether you are a new reader or an old fan, I hope you
enjoyed it. You can find out more about the first two books (which
have been released in paperback, ebook and audio formats, as well
as in foreign language editions) and continuing plans for it at my
website,
www.kimberlypauley.com