“Ungh,” moaned Dylan. He pulled Amethyst close to him. He had a boner, and hoped she felt it. Around them, the hip hop concert surged with mosh pits.
“I know,” said Amethyst, looking into his stupid-ass eyes. She felt his boner press firmly into her thigh, filling her heart with temporary emotion. “But it can never be, Dylan. Our love is forbidden by our fathers, who know more than we give them credit for.”
Dylan’s soul ached, still pure and unsullied by thoughts of estimated taxes or how to replace those little delicate light bulbs under the kitchen counter. How could the world be so unfair, to deny him of the one thing he knew would make him truly, idiotically happy.
“My father’s a rich executive down at the investment bank company who was lucky enough to have parents who met at Yale,” she said, tears filling her eyes. “Yours is a blue-collar mechanic who would rather chase his dreams as a writer than sell out to the man. Don’t you see that they’ll never allow us to be together?”
“I have a driver’s license,” he said.
“I know,” she whispered. “Forgive me, Dylan, but this time, that’s just not enough.”
She pushed away from him, lightly brushing his boner but once with her hand. He breathlessly watched her go, never considering that he’d meet a more sensible girl in college. He tried to imagine a world without Amethyst, a bonerless land where the sun didn’t shine and the trees were all dead, a place not unlike the ridiculous graphic on the T-shirt he was wearing. It was too much, he knew, too much for a sensitive boy like him. He needed her.
He pushed through the crowd as he chased after her. His best friend Smokez tried to step in front of him, his stocking cap soaked with sweat, a fat joint of hyperweed pinched between his fingers, but Dylan pushed him aside. Good times and lots of laughs could wait; right now, it was only Amethyst’s touch, her hot breath on his pierced ear, that would satisfy the fires inside of him.
He burst through the door and out into the night air. There, in the parking lot, stood a girl, shapely, sweet, years away from the two pregnancies that would ruin her. His only true love. His Amethyst.
But then he called out to her, she turned, and he realized she was…not.
“Hello, Dylan,” snickered Cray Bae, magenta highlights streaking through her hair. “Looking for someone?”
“Where is she?” said Dylan, the boner in his pants being slowly replaced by a boner of flaming rage in his heart.
“Too bad you’ll never know,” said Cray Bae, motioning to the shadows. Slowly, four figures, each with a different colored set of highlights and those bagy black pants with the straps, came skulking out of the shadows. As Dylan took in their lithe movements, gleaming eyes, and pointed teeth, he realized that Cray Bae was something more than the girl he’d foolishly smashed that fateful night so long ago.
In fact, she was something more than human.
“Bampires,” whispered Dylan.
“Yes, Dylan,” chuckled Cray Bae, “the not-quite vampires who crosses don’t work on because it’s a viral mutation. Arch Ville turned us all, giving us eternal life…so long as we brought him Amethyst.”
Dylan said nothing, merely drew his swordblade from his exo-pocket. The bampires hissed to behold its lasersteel as it gleamed in the lights of the parking lot.
“Last chance, Cray,” said Dylan, his swordblade humming with energy like an electric boner. “Tell me where you’ve taken her.”
“You want to know?” hissed Cray Bae, lowering herself into a battle stance. “Come find out.”
Dylan dashed forward. The bampires closed in. The night was filled with sweat and rage.