I let out a loud cough. Between the nasty bug I caught earlier this week and the geometry test I'm doomed to fail tomorrow, I can barely concentrate on what Kayla's saying, much less provide any sort of meaningful response. I feel a little bad for making the conversation so one-sided, but she doesn't even seem to notice. Instead, she continues her rambling.

"All, I'm saying is, Jared's been kind of driving me crazy lately," she says with a huff. "He keeps blowing me off for his stupid band, and leaving me the third wheel! I mean, who does that?"

"Mhmm, I feel you," I manage through another coughing fit. Ugh. This must be what my biology teacher, Mr. Wise, who thinks himself quite the comedian, likes to call the Teen Plague. Or maybe it's chlamydia he's referring to. Who knows?

"Say what you want about Heath, Zoey, but he always made time for you, even after the Union game."

I shoot a look at her. It's really not cool of her to bring up Heath after what happened between us recently, but I don't say anything. Kayla seems to get the message, though, and changes the subject.

"That test tomorrow is going to be brutal. Ugh, I don't know if any amount of studying will be able to prepare me for it." I nod in total agreement, before I hack up yet another lung.

"Do you think if this bug kills me, I'll get out of taking it?" I say.

"Hell no! And leave me here alone to take it? Who else am I going to fail it miserably with?"

"The whole class, maybe?" We both laugh, mine a bit strained. Kayla closes her locker, and we make our way to mine.

That's when I notice the vampire standing next to it.

It was unmistakable. Even if he didn't have a tangible aura of power and darkness, his Mark, a sapphire-blue crescent moon right in the middle of his forehead, coupled with the additional tattoos framing his eyes gives him away. Not only is he a vampire, he's almost certainly a Tracker. Why else would he be here?

Even Kayla has stopped talking after noticing him. We both stand there, completely frozen, unsure of what to do, for what seems like several moments.

He looks up at me.

No, not looking. Staring. Right into my soul.

He lifts his arm out toward me, exposing the circular tattoo on his palm, as he speaks his ceremonial words that reverberate the space between us. My breath escapes me.

"Zoey Montgomery! Night has chosen thee; thy death will be thy birth. Night calls to thee; hearken to Her sweet voice. Your destiny awaits you at the House of Night!" The already-vibrant tattoo on his palm seems to glow even more as I feel a sharp, burning pain explode in my forehead. My vision grows white, and Kayla and I both scream, and I fall to the ground, clutching my head.

After what feels like an eternity, the blotches in my eyes finally clear. I look up at Kayla, who is now staring at my forehead with her eyes wide, and her face ghostly pale.

"K, what's wrong?" I ask suspiciously, fearing her answer. Her wide eyes start tearing up.

"He Marked you!" she squawks. "Zoey, you have the crescent on your forehead!" I suddenly notice the blaring pain is still radiating from that spot. I feel like I might be sick.

Kay is really crying now, speaking in between sobs and little hiccups. "He was a Tracker, Zo!"

"I got that, K," I say with a low voice. Her screeching is like a drill through my skull. "Is he still here?" I ask as I scan the halls. He seems to be gone. In fact, the hallway seems empty save for a lone kid, who seems to have been gaping at me this whole time. I decide to ignore him.

"No," she confirms, "He disappeared as soon as he finished chant, or whatever it was."

I let out a long sigh. "Can you help me up?" I ask, but as I hold out my arm waiting for her assistance, she automatically cringes away from me.

My stomach drops. Is she afraid of me? I give her a desperate look, and she must have noticed my hurt expression, because she grabs my arm, with noticeable reluctance, and finally helps me up.

"Oh, God, Zoey! What are you going to do? What are we going to do? You can't go to that place. You can't become one of them!" She has become inconsolable now as I bite past my own tears. I've become quite good at suppressing my emotions in recent years.

"It's okay. I'll figure this out. It has to be some...bizarre mistake," I lie. I let out a hollow laugh. I guess I'll miss that geometry test after all, I think to myself.

I cough yet again, this time a really nasty, guttural cough. I'm still sick? Come to think of it, I feel even worse than I did before I was Marked. The kid who was staring at me comes back to life and moves quickly down the hall toward one of the classrooms, chessboard clutched to his chest, and Kay and I are now truly alone.

"Hey, are you okay? Why were you laughing?" Kayla's voice sounds a little too high. I can't tell if her tone is that of concern or fear. Maybe both.

"It's just-" Just then Kayla's cell phone rings. She glances at me, and I nod, signaling that it's okay to answer. She gives me a sad smile as she complies.

"Hey, babe… No, I'm with Zoey in the hallway... I know, I'm sorry, I'll be out soon… Okay, love you too." She looks at me again with an apologetic expression.

"Go on," I tell her. "I'll be okay." She nods, and gives me a tight hug.

"I'll miss you," she says in a broken voice, and she runs off toward the parking lot. And with that, I'm left alone to deal with my little problem.

I walk to the door to check for other students. I really don't want everyone to see the Mark on my forehead, and have them gawk at me. I don't like having the spotlight on me as it is.

As luck would have it, not only is the parking lot not empty, my ex-boyfriend Heath is leaning on his truck...

Surrounded by his buddies…

And a bunch of cheerleaders…

Right next to wear my car is parked.

Shit.

There is no way I can sneak past them without them noticing.

I feel a twitch of jealousy and heartache as I see Kathy Richter, the head cheerleader of Broken Arrow High School, caress his arm as a clear mating call while Heath laughs at whatever dumb thing she's saying, but I choke it down. He's my ex for a reason, isn't he?

I decide to wait them out, so I head to the nearest bathroom. I brush back my heart to take a look at the Mark for the first time in the mirror.

A familiar stranger stares back.

She has my eyes-the color hazel, but they have never been this big and round. Or have they? She has my hair-long, straight, and nearly black. My cheekbones, my nose, my mouth-she looks like me, but I feel different. How could a simple (albeit almost glowing), blue, crescent moon tattoo change a person so much? Is it even about the tattoo?

I hadn't had much time to contemplate the new life I have ahead of me before now, assuming I survive it.

That's the thing about being a vampire, or at least a fledgling. From what I understand, when you're Marked, your body goes through some pretty drastic changes over the course of roughly four years. In that time, it's entirely possible for your body to reject these changes entirely, and when that happens, you die. That's just the way it is.

What kind of person am I to become? Will I have to drink blood, and sleep during the day? Are my aesthetic choices going to change? I remember the boy who saw me change scurrying down the hall with his chessboard. Do vampires play chess? What do they do for fun?

I cup my face in my hands. My head is pounding even harder than before.

What am I going to do now?

I think about how much my life has derailed from the plan I was so dead-set on for years in such a short period of time. I was going to graduate high school, go to veterinary college, become a large-animal vet, marry Heath, settle down with 20 kids, and die old. But Heath and I broke up almost three weeks ago, and now I've been Marked. I feel so lost.

Maybe that's why the girl staring at me in the mirror feels like stranger.

I want to cry, but between the pain in my skull, my worsening cough, and general nausea, I can't muster it.

There's no point in fretting the inevitable, I think to myself, I may as well embrace this Mark. A twinge of pride, and a little excitement, surges through me.

Just then, my pocket vibrates. A text message from Mom. "Where are you," it says. I let out a loud groan, and the positive vibes I was just starting to get drain from me completely.I completely forgot about her. How am I going to tell her?

Fuck.