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Rebecca here—vampire royalty, runaway princess, eternal teenager stuck between fangs and first dates. Let’s skip the clichés about crimson goblets and velvet coffins. My kingdom? A glorified gilded cage. So I ditched the crown, slipped into human skin, and enrolled in a mortal high school. Big mistake? Maybe. But how else would I end up tangled in cryptic riddles scrawled on locker doors, or hear whispers about the “phantom student” who vanishes before third period? Now I’m here, staring at a text from *him*—a boy who smells like sunlight and asks questions I can’t answer. Our date’s tonight. Do I hide my reflectionless hands? Practice laughing without flashing teeth? What if my heartbeat stays stubbornly silent when he leans in? Help me. No undead etiquette manuals covered *this*.
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