Fangs for Nothing (Vampire Hunting and Other Foolish Endeavors) Read Online Free PDF Page B

somehow manage to end up in a conversation with the violet girl.
    “Herbert . There you are,” Grandma snapped. “You remember Mr. Sarducci.”
    I smiled politely at an elderly, somewhat bulky gentleman wearing an apron and standing behind the counter at Sarducci Meats. “Hi, Mr. Sarducci,” I said as the dutiful grandson.
    Grandma went on, “Mr. Sarducci’s granddaughter is staying with him for the summer, and I thought you’d like to meet her.” That’s when I realized that there was a person standing behind Mr. Sarducci, somewhat eclipsed by his bulk. “Herbert, this is Lydia. Lydia, this is my grandson, Herbert.”
    A sullen -looking girl glanced over at me. She was about sixteen, medium height, medium weight, with medium-length, medium-brown hair, and she had medium features. She was dressed in jeans, a gray t-shirt, and a white apron—just like her grandfather. The only thing distinguishing about her was that she wore a cool, enamel, multicolored bat necklace. That, at least, drew my interest. “Hi,” she said halfheartedly.
    “It’s nice to meet you,” I replied with an equal lack of enthusiasm. I hated when Grandma tried to fix me up. It was so embarrassing.
    Then I saw Lydia’s face grow more animated. Her eyes lit up. She was looking at me with interest. She even sort of smiled. I was just thinking that when she wasn’t being all dour, she wasn’t half bad looking, when I realized that Xander had walked up behind me and was observing the introduction over my shoulder. “Who’s your friend?” Lydia asked, doing nothing to conceal her interest.
    I r estrained myself from making an exasperated face. Xander couldn’t help it if he was the epicenter of gorgeous in the tri-state area. “Lydia, this is Xander Hipsher. Xander, meet Lydia Sarducci.”
    “Hi,” Xander said, flashing her the baby-blue high beams. I could tell he wasn’t even trying to flirt with her. That’s just how he looks. In a lower voice, he said to me, “Sherbie, I’m going to grab a soda.”
    Just so you know , no one says soda in Cleveland. America can be divided by regions that say soda and regions that say pop, and Cleveland is definitely a pop town. But Xander doesn’t like pop. He won’t drink Coke or Pepsi or any of the other big names that come in a giant two liter. He only drinks traditional soda pop. The kind that has flavors like orange cream soda, birch beer, and old-time ginger ale and are only sold in undersized glass bottles. He even tried to start using the word sarsaparilla once, until Rini shut it down.
    “I’m kind of thirsty,” Lydia said, her eyes bright and hopeful.
    “Oh, okay,” Xander said, not picking up on her hugely obvious hint. “I’ll bring you back something.” Then he said to me, “Are you coming or what?”
    Grandma fixed me with a beady stare, and I knew my presence by her side as head porter was required. “No, you go on,” I told him. “I’ll text you when we’re ready to snack.”
    Xander loped off , and Lydia sank back into sour. Not a good look for her. Mr. Sarducci wrapped up some pork chops for Grandma, and I stood there feeling like an idiot. Grandma kept winking at me and then cutting her eyes over to Lydia. She was being about as subtle as a brick through a window.
    Grandma didn’t harangue me for a while, not willing to lose focus while giving the Eastern European immigrants the screws over what constituted a ripe banana. But I knew it was only a temporary reprieve. “Why didn’t you flirt with that young lady back at Sarducci’s?” Grandma asked after she had declared victory over the fruit and vegetable stands. “That’s why I introduced you.”
    “ Come on, Grandma. She didn’t like me,” I told her, struggling under the bags of peaches, eggplant, strawberries, and squash.
    “Sure , she did. I saw her smiling at you,” Grandma insisted.
    “No, Grandma. She was smiling at Xander.”
    Grandma’s face became a little pinched. “Don’t be fooled