Short Story – "Just Tell Me You Do"
Author Note: Thank you for reading. Please review and you will gain my appreciation.
In this short story, featuring Thatch x Mantha. I would place this sometime after another story I've been working on "Medal of Horror."
"Good after noon, students," Miss Hopper smiled, lovely and radiant as ever. Her head floated inside a crystal ball set on top a levitating table. She approached the class, a book glowing blue floating with her as she greeted everyone. It was going to be a busy day, she already had it opened. "Please pull out your texts and turn to page 653; we are going to study famous marriages of the late 1600s."
What an odd subject, Mantha quietly sighed when she heard that topic announced. Although, she wondered if Miss Hopper and Frank had a date the previous night. Their teacher had a tendency to focus on the great romances of history when she had a nice time.
The thought of it made her smile.
As Mantha was just about to get a pencil, something fell from her head on to the desk: It was a rolled up piece of paper. A boy chuckled behind her and she groaned. She wasn't going to look back. Don't give him the attention. That's what he wants.
"Mantha…" The voice whispered behind her. "Hey, zombie girl, I dropped a piece of paper on your desk, I want it back." Mantha didn't move, she didn't look back and didn't address the request. "Hey…" He lightly kicked under her seat.
She was so going to kill him.
The annoyances continued. Her heel had been tapped several times, and at one point, he even used his shoe to press on the back of hers, trying to pull it off her foot.
"Thatch, stop it." She hissed under her breath. "You're going to get me in trouble."
He was victorious. Smiling fang to fang with the most devilish look, he merely scoffed at her and quietly chuckled. Evil brat!
He left her alone for the rest of class, minus using a pencil to mess with her hair – and sadly, she didn't seem to notice. Thatch wanted to see if she could tell that one strand had been moved out of place. The girl was so uptight; it would be hilarious if she retaliated over it.
When nothing came out of his prankster assault, he fell back into the desk chair and listened to Miss Hopper drone on and on about how well a werewolf couple from Europe destroyed a small village. It was of no interest to him until the part about the carnage shed and loss of human life. What a blood bath!
"So you see, love can make creatures behave differently, sometimes perform dangerous things or act out of their true nature." Miss Hopper breathed. "Oh, and these points may make an appearance on the next exam, so you'd do well to discuss it amongst yourselves." She finished and nodded to them all. "Class dismissed."
As everyone collected their things, Mantha shot a dirty look in Thatch's direction; he had caved and started pulling at her shirt sleeve, muttering something about a loose thread. The girl growled and pulled her arm away, walking out the door with an unaware Casper and Ra.
"Thatch," Miss Hopper's voice called. "I'd like to see you before you leave." She smiled and waited for everyone else to go. Thatch just stared at her wide eyed, still in his seat. What was he in for now? The boy held his hands together and glared back down at his desk.
"Come here, please, Thatch." She called softly. When he did so, she took in a deep breath.
"You know," Miss Hopper smiled, her beautiful voice like wind chimes, "When I was in school, I once had a boy who liked to tap on my crystal ball during class." Now she was watching him carefully. The vampire had looked away from her at this point and was pretending not to listen. "And it was not long after I learned that he liked me."
Thatch raised an eyebrow and continued to stare out the window, if only briefly looking up at his teacher.
"Do you know how I knew?" She smiled, bubbles fluttering from one side of the ball. Thatch didn't reply and only stared at her, wrapping lips around his fangs appearing deep in thought. When he didn't answer, Miss Hopper laughed sweetly. "I knew because he eventually told me."
Thatch smirked a bit. "What are you trying to say?"
"What I'm saying, dear, is that if you have feelings for someone, you should tell her." Her smile widened a little. When the boy's head tilted in confusion, she smiled more. "Having a crush on a class mate isn't the end of the world. She's a very intelligent young lady." Miss Hopper shut her eyes and giggled. "And besides, Mantha will figure it out sooner or later."
Thatch was floored. He nearly tripped on his own feet.
"Y-you couldn't be any more wrong!" The boy nervously crossed his arms. When they began shaking, he turned away from her further. "I don't like Mantha. She's just a zombie. I could never like a zombie. She's too zombie-ish."
"Oh, Thatch." Miss Hopper sighed compassionately, "Whatever you decide to do, promise to be a little gentler?"
"Sure." He grumbled.
"Good." She sighed, clearly satisfied. "In the meantime, you are to write out 150 times, "I will not throw paper bits at my classmates."
With his back turned, Thatch rolled his eyes, but then hesitated. "Wait, only 150, not 150,000?"
"I'm cutting you a break this time. "She replied sweetly. "You are dismissed."
Grabbing his books, he walked out the door. On the outside, he was cool as a Carpathian cucumber. On the inside, he wanted to tear out a neck. How was he going to concentrate now? Miss Hopper knew. Who else did? And what did she mean by Mantha finding out? She wouldn't find out. She'd never know! He'd see to it. Thatch would make her life miserable until it felt enough. Mantha was his, but only when he was ready to let her know, and that might not ever be.
His gang had long gone to the library without him. He'd have to hustle now. All this 'tell Mantha you love her' bologna was eating up his time.
Walking past a pillar, he bit into it, shocking his friends when he walked in.
They were quiet. He spat out the wooden bits onto the floor and watched them all quickly put their faces close to the desk.
What were they actually studying?
When Thatch put his books on the table, he noticed Slither and Mosshead laughing at something in secret. After this went on for a few moments, Thatch smirked and casually walked over.
"What's so funny? You put sneezing dust in the wolf's book again?" Thatch recalled a previous prank. Both creatures looked at each other, then at the vampire, and laughed even louder.
"What?"
"It's you, Thatch." Mosshead covered his fangs.
Dummy Girl nearly pressed her head against Thatch's and squealed laughing. "Mantha?!" She shrieked and fell off the bench.
"What!" He looked around quickly, "No! Wait! What are you talking about?"
"Dude, I heard you talking to Miss Hopper." Slither snorted. "She thinks you're in love with the zombie."
"Well I'm not!" Thatch crossed his arms and turned away from them. "Wait you were there?" His expression grew wide.
"Yeah, I was waiting for you, couldn't take it anymore and left."
"So why do you pick on her so much?" Mosshead batted his eyes, and softened his voice. "Is it because you're in love, Thatch?"
"Shut up!" He threw his arm at the imp. He dodged it. "I'm not!"
"I can see it now! Thatch and Mantha lurching together." The wooden doll was rolling with it. "Imagine a vampire in slow motion!"
"Yeah, trading blood for brains. Isn't romantic?" Mosshead grunted laughing.
At this point, Thatch had given up trying to lie to them. They should have believed him and stopped. What was happening? He felt like his life was falling apart.
He nearly stormed out the library. When he felt tentacles pulling him back, he growled lowly.
"We need to talk about this, Thatch." Slither looked disturbed. When they both sat down, he let the boy go. "I mean what do you see in her, man?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"I mean…Mantha?" Slither grunted.
"Ha ha!" Dummy Girl did a cartwheel in front him. "I can't believe it!"
"Yeah, this is, like, totally weird, bro." Slither snickered and did his best to suppress a chuckle.
Thatch just blinked out into space, hiding further under the cape.
"I'd be ashamed if I were you, too!" The possessed doll taunted. "Thatch, vampires and zombies don't mix!"
"Yeah," Mosshead chimed in, timid but disgusted. "I mean Mantha is too…"
"She's a loser!" Dummy Girl shouted, giggling madly.
"She hangs out with that mummy dude and Casper. They're totally uncool." The snake creature pointed out bluntly. "Face it, she's too friendly."
Thatch huffed.
"Get away from me!" The vampire roared.
"With pleasure!" Dummy Girl replied. "All this mushy talk is making me sick!"
Like you're one to talk, Thatch wanted to say. He knew Slither and Dummy Girl had feelings for each other. Though he didn't like it, because inter-gang-romances were difficult to manage, he didn't break it up. Besides, there was never enough time when torturing Mantha stole most of his attention.
With the little dignity he had left, Thatch tossed his cape behind him and left in the opposite direction. When he was sure they were gone, he began pacing in circles, thinking, muttering and groaning. His life was a disaster. He'd lose his reputation and that would be it. Looking up and down the balcony, and making sure everyone had gone, he clenched a fist and swept a shelf of books on to the floor.
"Why can't I have this one thing?" He paced. "I mean really! I know it doesn't make me look cool! I know it's the exact opposite of who I am! So, what? Okay, yes, I like Mantha! I'm completely batty about that psycho nutso!" Depressed and love sick, he wandered over to the middle of the room. His eyes glazed over and tightened shut. Time to face the facts, there was no going back now. He had to admit what the others could obviously see.
Thatch pathetically fell to his knees. He didn't care. He pressed his face into the cold floor.
"I'm in love." He groaned in defeat. He wanted something destroyed, much like his pride and heart. At least he was alone. That's what he needed, he reasoned. After a few moments he lift his head, looking around again. Now what would he do? Time to get off the floor for one thing. Thatch stood and quietly sat down on the bench wiping away acidic tears. Calm, he told himself. Calm. After he collected his thoughts, he would teach all three of those morons a lesson. Maybe if he threatened them to keep their mouths shut, he wouldn't blend their fluids for his next meal. That would work.
Then things could go back to normal.
"Uh..." A voice answered his thoughts. "Thatch…?"
"What?!" Thatch nearly flew out of his seat, his metal chain slapped harshly against the wood. The bench knocked over and study desk pushed away at a messy angle.
"Look…" Casper backed off. He knew better. "It's okay…"
That was it. Almost a dozen books flew in Casper's direction.
"Why are you here!" Thatch roared, but then his voice lost its balance.
"Well, this is a library, Thatch." Casper calmly defended himself.
"I'm gonna lose it…"
"Thatch, it's going to be okay." The ghost iterated.
"I don't need you telling me what's okay, sheet boy! You got that!?"
"Does that go for me, too?" Ra stuttered and sheepishly crept from the same book isle as his wussy ghost friend. Without a second of hesitation, Thatch charged toward the mummy in rage. Oh, he was going to hurt him there was no doubt about it. Ra held his hands up and took off for the exit; though before he could make it far, he fell to the floor. Thatch had pounced on him and the two went skidding against smooth tile.
"You both are so history!" The vampire hissed.
.
"Thatch, stop it!" A lighter voice commanded.
As if lightening struck, he ceased his assault. She was just in time. His teeth were nearly ready to sink into his victim and Ra sighed in relief…thank the Mighty Horus.
Seeing the girl, Thatch gasped, violently throwing the boy away.
"That is enough!" The voice commanded again, although this time a bit desperate.
Thatch should have known she'd be here with them. Mantha stood above him with the worst expression he'd ever seen. It made him fall over back ward. He clumsily inched away from her, but didn't meet her gaze. He wanted to hide.
"Thatch?" She whispered.
Was she embarrassed, too?
"Thatch?" The way she was calling his name like that made his stomach quiver. It felt like bats fluttering in a windowless attic.
She was getting closer to him.
Where was a stake when he needed one?
Shaking his head, he stood but didn't look at her and noisily plopped down on another bench. There was an eerie silence in the room, save for the humming noise of ceiling lights, and it made for a strange contrast with all the activity mere moments ago. All of it made Thatch's head swim with fear, doubt, and revenge. Oh yes, the anger was still there, boiling over like blood out of an artery.
Casper and Mantha looked to each other.
They were whispering, something about whether or not Mantha would be okay if he left. Although he'd be around, Casper knew enough to grant them some privacy. He merely nodded and took off.
Now it was just Thatch and Mantha.
Mantha grimaced and thought about the situation before her. Things began to make sense. Thatch had been switching hot and cold on her lately, sometimes leaving her alone completely to down right torturous pranks. In the past few weeks, he had thrown pencils in her direction, sharp ones, bits of paper and kicking her foot under the desk. Anything to get her attention, that brat would try to get it. When he did, he'd just sit back and have the worst smirk on his face. He enjoyed her attention and being mischievous was the only way he could get it. She had told him off more than once. Doing so helped her situation little.
When Thatch felt someone sit on the bench next to him, he didn't budge. He couldn't look at her. It was just enough to see the zombie girl sitting there in his peripheral vision and he growled at himself for being a coward. Without a word, he looked away trying to control his rigid breath.
"Want to talk?" She said quietly with a little smile on her face, even though Thatch couldn't see.
"Why would I want to talk to you?" He growled, hoping she'd bite into his rudeness and walk away.
He was avoiding her. Guess that old saying about how boys pick on girls when they like them was true here.
A few moments passed and the two sat quietly.
"I got you to say it before." She continued, and she was right. He had declared to liking Mantha, as in not hating her as much as the others, but had not admitted to something more. She didn't think anything of it.
Thatch shifted toward her, and glared.
"That was a long time ago." He finally replied. Mantha cracked up laughing. The sudden reaction caused him to look up at her for a moment in terror, black eyebrows pressed together worried.
"It was not that long ago, Bat Boy." She shook her head amused. "More like a few months." She noticed he had retreated back into Fort Cape and sighed. "You know, I think…" Mantha thought for a moment, "…that it takes a tough guy to…" How could she put this without it sounding soft? "Tell it like it is."
The vampire shifted a little.
"Because it is what it is." Mantha bluntly stated. She adjusted closer to Thatch and sat on her knees. A few hopeless moments went by. No luck. She sighed and put a hand on his ridged shoulder. It was time to use a different strategy. "Is something wrong?"
Thatch's head snapped out of hiding with a wide expression. He looked over at her, stunned.
"Because you know those pencils were kind of sharp and…"
"No!" He shouted louder than he meant to. Realizing this, he backed down.
"What is it then?"
He did not reply and turned away.
"You know what?" She shouted. "You're arrogant."
Thatch shifted again.
"And you're dirty rotten to the core sometimes, but…" She hesitated. "You like me. I mean you like-like me?" It wasn't a question. She knew. That was it, she just knew. Zombie girl just said it and it nearly shot a mental bullet in his brain hearing it come out of her mouth.
A few moments of silence passed. Being so vulnerable was just killing him.
"So?" He replied lowly under his covered mouth. His purple eyes narrowed further out into the library. He was simply furious. How could this happen? This closely guarded secret he kept from everyone had played out in a way worse than a nightmare. How many times had he lied to himself? He tried. But he could try again. If he denied everything it would go away. It would have to.
He had no choice; it was either him or Mantha. He would have to get rid of her. Get her kicked out of school to prove it to everyone. He would never love…
His zombie girl put her delicate hand through his bangs. He could have melted. Without much protest other than a few soft growls, he allowed her to touch him. He didn't push her away, but even better, he didn't attack her.
"You gonna make fun of me?" The stubbornness in his voice was unmistakable but that of a frightened young man none the less.
"No." Mantha smiled. She looked happier. That was fine, he supposed and relaxed, sitting properly. Plus, Mantha had access to the rest of his head. He liked that. Why did he like that? Since when did he like his head touched?
"You're not worried about Slither and the rest?" She said quietly.
He pretended to think for a moment. "Mmm…no." Not anymore.
Looking over at Mantha, his grin grew even wider.
She was smiling, too.