The next day Becky and I arrived at school to an unusual sight. Students were buzzing about the Crypt, and I noticed several girls wearing the same T-shirt Becky had given me for my birthday - black with THE CRYPT in white skeleton bone letters.
"That club rocks!" I heard the Prada-bee say to her friend. Her Crypt shirt was over her long-sleeve button down. "I can't wait to go again."
"I'm going every night," her friend retorted. She was wearing one, too, but it was underneath her green cashmere cardigan.
"How did they get those?" I asked Becky. "I don't know," she said, just as bewildered as I was.
Several other students we passed as we headed to our lockers had Crypt shirts, but even those who didn't were blabbing about the fantastic time they had at the new club.
I was so pleased that even though I was still looked at as an oddball, we were all sharing in the same joy that was the Crypt.
Now that Alexander (as Phoenix) was key in cementing Jagger's mortals-only club policy, I breathed a sigh of relief knowing that my fellow students, family, and townspeople were in no immediate danger from unknown vampires. Maybe Scarlet, Onyx, and Sebastian would be staying in Dullsville. It would be a dream for me to spend time with them and Alexander in the darkened hours. Even Jagger and Luna, who were far from what I'd call best friends, could be a nice addition to this town. Jagger had made a fantasy of mine come true - and I had to give him major props for that.
And by the number of Crypt T-shirt
7
