Blood Slushies

The Three Most Probable Places to Find Teenagers

Mark stood in the worship circle beside Gerome and Danny. The flicker of candlelight illuminated the more prominent features of each face, changing the prettiest prayer girls into witches casting curses in the dark of the Youth House. One by one, the worshipers asked God with pleases and thank yous for the expected, unselfish things all people wish for when other people are listening.

"Please help my grandma. She's sick in the hospital."

"My dog broke his leg. Please heal him."

"Be with my aunt and uncle while they're doing your work in China. Amen."

Not a single voice trembled with emotion. Not a single soul really thought God would answer any of these because they knew modern science and convenience would keep them safe and heal their wounds. There was no use in praying anymore.

Then it was Mark's turn.

"Please..."

Please stay away from me tomorrow night, he wanted to say. I'll be fucking Destiny Cartwright and I'd rather not feel like you're watching me. Thanks.

"Please, um." There was an uncomfortable cough, then Gerome elbowed him in the arm to get on with it. "Pass."

"My cousin broke his leg and could sure use you right about now," whispered Danny.

Mark began to think about Destiny. She had been Danny's girlfriend a few months ago, but then she started harassing him about his steroids. He could already taste her supple, dark skin and see the excitement in her green eyes. Dark brown hair with feather extensions twisted around his fingers. He thought about how he couldn't wait to hold fistfuls of that hair, having the feathers tickle his wrists and face while the ecstasy of her blood helped him get a hard on.

"Please help Colby with his blood transfusion next month."

But these images faded. He tried imagining her face in this candlelight. It would cast shadows on her face. She would age ten to fifteen years and become a hag. It would make her ugly. Just like how it was making him ugly this very moment.

Ugly. He glared at the light glittering with holy warmth in his hands. The hot wax pooled between his thumb and pointer finger, burning him pleasantly.

Mark blew out his candle.

At the same time, Catrina was lighting vanilla scented ones with a pink lighter. They didn't smell like vanilla when they burned, but what did she expect from such a dollar store purchase?

Summer Moral's apartment smelled like dust and day-old brownies, but probably because it had both in just about every room of the house. Her mom's comfort food was chocolate, and brownie mix was cheaper than candy bars. Summer's mom handed a bag of cocaine to a shirtless, twenty-something white male with a buzz-cut. They were laughing as the drug deal came to its end.

While Catrina set each candle in different spots, Summer lay on the L couch with her boyfriend Micheal. Their soft, sudden moans were the only noticeable indication they were doing anything inappropriate since both looked to be out cold. Summer was a sophomore, but her boyfriend was almost twenty. Several other people were there, most drifting in and out of the living room. Catrina could barely see them through the clouds of cigarette and weed smoke.

The cigarettes burned her nose, but the weed was so pleasant and sweet. She'd never smoke either one, but the sight of crusted brownies and smoke clouds forever brought back memories of that aroma and the beautiful glass bongs and pipes with their swirls of surreal color and hand-blown texture.

She left the crowded apartment for the solitude of the front porch steps. It was mid spring and the outside air was cool, a welcome surprise after the stuffy smoke room. A weaver spider swung from right to left, left to right in an effort to finish her masterpiece before Summer's younger brother got home the next afternoon and destroyed it.

Apprehension had clutched Catrina's stomach earlier that day. She couldn't wait for the party to start and helped Summer do whatever needed to be done around the house. For hours she hid dirty clothes in closets and swept dust under the rug, vacuuming various spots on the carpet and wiping down counters. But around seven o'clock the party had already reached its climax, and that apprehension easily dissolved into a warm, hazy feeling she didn't quite understand. Contentment described it, but so did sorrow and need. She wished she could flirt with some of the guys at the party to fill in the spaces that feeling created, but they were all much older and far dumber than anyone she had flirted with before.

But still. Just the bubbles that come with flirting would be nice. It makes me feel pretty.

She was very good at flirting, but she hadn't perfected the art quite as well as Summer had. Summer could flirt with four guys at the same time while her boyfriend sat beside her. She was subtle, but her admirers always got the message. She had a voluptuous body with wide, round hips, a sudden waist, and a large bosom. Her skin was clear and soft. Everyone wanted to touch her, feel her, put their fingers through her blonde hair. Many boys (and girls) fell for her charms weekly.

This sickened Catrina almost as much as it filled her with jealousy, but Summer didn't seem to care and deep down neither did Catrina. Catrina was taller than Summer, but stocky. Her chest still hadn't developed even though she had begun puberty at eleven, but the natural curve in her torso assisted in giving her a womanly appearance. Her thighs were thick and compact and her calves were long and ended with short, narrow feet. Sometimes she felt like her parents mixed and matched body parts from random members of the family and sewed them together to make her.

Whenever Catrina remarked negatively about her body, Summer would protest. "You have flat abs," she often said, ignoring the slight ring of fat surrounding Catrina's lower belly. Or "you have beautiful hair." Despite the gold gleam in her hair that even she couldn't deny, Catrina still felt like an ugly freak in Summer's overwhelming presence; like a seamless, female Frankenstein's monster in a house of laid-back beautiful people.

Outside her mind, Summer was calling her back to reality. "Brody, come inside and shut the door. It's still cold out." Hands slipped around Catrina's waist and the fingers intertwined just below her belly button. "Come on, sweet thing," Summer whispered. "There's a cute boy named Tyler with your name on him."

Catrina giggled. "And yours tattooed on his chest."

In a veil of giggles, Summer pulled her back into the smoke to become another partier.

Across the street in Apartment 114, Caleb opened Dane's bedroom window.

"Good God man, what's with the incense?" Jordan struggled for breath and took a deep drag from his inhaler.

"You know Jordan has asthma," Caleb said scowling.

"It's just sage," defended Dane. "Banishes evil spirits, ya know?"

Dane was different from the other D and D nerds. For one thing, his muscular build, clothes, and friendly attitude got him plenty of dates. For another, he wasn't all that smart. The only subject he was any good in was math.

Caleb closed his eyes and chewed on the end of his glasses nervously.

"W-why are we d-doing this-s again?" stuttered Cameron from the darkest corner of Dane's room. His fear of fire did not help his chronic stutter.

Dane sighed and sat down in the middle of the circle of candles. Everything for tonight he borrowed from his sister. The Ouija board, the candles, the incense, even the magic eight ball. "Look, all we gotta do is ask some questions out loud, and the spirits answer."

"B-but why are we a-asking it que- ques-"

"Why the hell are we asking spirits anything?" interrupted Caleb. He was annoyed with the whole thing. All he wanted was to play some D and D and meet up with Jane the Ruthless in a tavern somewhere.

"For fun," Bryan replied with a smile. "We'll ask stuff like 'will I pass that algebra test' and 'does Brody think I'm hot?'"

"I seriously doubt the latter." But the question stirred something selfish inside Caleb. I wanna ask that too. Looking at Bryan, Caleb saw how slim his chances were. Bryan, much like Dane, was attractive and dressed well in his superhero shirts. Waves of dark brown hair brushed his shoulders when he let it out of its low ponytail. His chocolate eyes were inviting and seductive to most geek chicks and they blushed at the sight of him.

Caleb imagined a faint flush cross Catrina's face under her freckles while looking at Bryan, her mouth slightly open, her green eyes as warm and welcoming as a hug. He couldn't remember anything like that ever happening, but it pissed him off just the same.

"Doesn't matter," John squeaked from the edge of the circle. "I just came for the Cheetos."

This pulled laughter out of all the boys present, even the usually silent Cross twins Ethan and Nathan. Caleb was chuckling, but his gut was still burning at the thought of losing Catrina to an older boy.

"Let's get on with it," said Dane as he placed his hands on the Ouija pointer. "Then we'll feast like vampires in a blood bank."

Everyone nodded enthusiastically at this and joined Dane inside his ring of brightly burning candles. It was time to contact the dead.