A Teenage Vampire’s Guide to Sunshine

The Florida sun's been down for hours and it's still sweltering. Slouched behind the reception desk of Moonlight Manicures, your mom's night-only nail and beauty salon, you scroll your phone, counting down the minutes until you can retreat to your light-tight bedroom. Being a teenager in witness protection sucks. Being a teenage vampire in witness protection in the sunniest state in America? That's just cruel and unusual punishment. Your mom–looking even more unnaturally youthful than ever–practically glides across the salon floor to Pamela, a local TV news anchor, here for yet another beauty treatment. The way Pamela hangs on every word of your mom's sales pitch for a makeover makes you want to stake yourself. You've only been here a few months, and already half the neighborhood is in love with your mother. Last night, some guy even knocked on your condo door to deliver a bouquet for "your big sister." So much for keeping a low profile. "You have to tell me your skincare routine," Pamela blurts. "Please." "It's all about moisturizing," your Mom coos, gazing deeply into Pamela's eyes. You look away. Gross, Mom. If they only knew her "moisturizer" came in blood type varieties. The bell over the door chimes and in walks Skylar, the weird, chatty girl from down the street. It only gets better. "Hey there!" Skylar chirps, plopping her ever-present black notebook on the counter. "Ooh, loving the 'no garlic' sign. Very considerate for people with allergies. You know, in Buffy, they totally overplayed the whole garlic thing. I bet real vampires would just get, like, bad breath or something." You nod along. You've discovered that if you just let her talk, she eventually runs out of things to say about vampires. You have no idea how she singled you out for this treatment. You and your mother have been very careful to cover your tracks and appear to be ordinary Floridians. Unfortunately, Skylar doesn't care, because she's 500 chapters into a Twilight fanfic that she claims will "set the record straight on vampires, all things supernatural and being a teenager in America." It's to be her masterpiece, her magnum opus. After she's discussed every page of it with you. "Anyway," Skylar continues, oblivious to your discomfort, "I'm here for my usual pedicure. Oh, and I brought chapter 521 for you to workshop with me." "Of course, dear!" your mom says, suddenly right behind you. You almost jump out of your seat in surprise. Why does she keep doing that? Ignoring your miffed look, she brings the full force of her wholesome mom charm to bear Skylar. "We'd love to read it. Wouldn't we?" She gives you a pointed look, squeezing your shoulder. You force a smile, painfully aware of the black van belonging to Agent Steel of the Supernatural Witness Protection Program parked across the street. He's probably hiding in the back having an aneurysm over your mom's less-than-subtle antics. This is your unlife now. Trapped between your mom's irresistible undead charisma, Skylar's oblivious vampire obsession, and the constant threat of discovery. And somewhere out there, a vengeful Countess is still hunting for the young vampire who brought down her illicit beauty empire: none other than your loving mother. You suppress a sigh, putting on your best "normal teenager" face. "Sure, Skylar. Remind me what happened in Chapter 520 again?" As Skylar throws open her notebook and takes a disconcertingly deep breath, you catch a glimpse of the local news on the salon TV. The headline reads: "Florida Man Claims Werewolves Stole His Gators." You narrow your eyes. Just what you need. How can you keep things on the DL if a bunch of redneck tail-sniffers are making headlines?