"HONESTLY, I DON'T KNOW how some of these stories got started," Sasuke complained, adjusting the van's radio, probably looking for Croatian folk music but settling for classical on the public station.

"Hollywood, I suppose."

I flipped to a pop station, just to irritate him. "So you don't think you can change into a bat?"

Sasuke turned down the music and shot me a look that said he was insulted. "Please. A bat? What self-respecting vampire would transfigure into a flying rodent? Would you become a skunk, even if you had the ability?"

"No, I guess not." I braked for a traffic light. "Maybe once, just to see what it was like."

"Well, vampires cannot transform into anything."

"How about garlic? Does it repulse you?"

"Only on someone's breath."

"And stakes? Can you be killed with a stake?"

"Anyone can be killed with a stake. But yes—that one is true. In fact, a stake through the heart is the only effective way to destroy a vampire."

"Uh, yeah. Sure."

"To save you time, I will add that we do not sleep in coffins. We do not sleep upside down. We, quite obviously, don't disintegrate in sunlight. How could one live a practical, useful life that way?"

"So far, being a vampire sounds pretty dull if you ask me."

"At the risk of rising a bad subject—and again, my apologies—you didn't seem to think my fangs were dull the other evening. In fact, you reacted quite strongly to their sharpness."

And to the feel of his hands, his body. . . Don't go there, Saku ."How did you do that? Did you have, like, a set of plastic teeth in your mouth?"

Sasuke shot me an incredulous look. "Plastic teeth? Did they look plastic?"

"No," I admitted. "But dentures look real."

"Dentures." He snorted. "Don't be absurd. Those were— are—my teeth. That is what vampires do. We grow fangs."

"Do it now then." I steered the van onto Route 30, navigating traffic.

"Oh, Saku... I don't think that's wise while you're driving on a busy road. You quite panicked the other night."

"You can't do it, can you?" I challenged. "Because it was a stupid trick, and you don't have your props."

"Don't provoke me, Saku. Not unless you really want me to do as you ask. Because I can, and I will."

"Do it."

"As you wish." Sasuke turned toward me, bared his teeth, and I nearly ran off the road. Sasuke grabbed the wheel, swerving us back into place.

"Holy shit." He'd done it again. He really had. I slid my gaze over, cautiously. The pointy teeth were gone. It's a trick. A trick. I wouldn't fall for it. Teeth were covered with enamel, one of the hardest substances in the body. Enamel couldn't shift or change. It was impossible, at the molecular level.

"You really must get used to that," Sasuke chided.

"Do you buy the trick at, like, a magic shop?"

"It's not a trick. Please stop using that word." Sasuke drummed his fingers on the VW's vinyl passenger seat. I could tell he was getting frustrated again. "Vampiric transformation is a phenomenon. If you'd read the book I provided—"

I groaned. "Oh, god, that thing." My unwanted copy of Growing Up Undead was still under my bed. I kept meaning to throw it out but somehow never got around to it. I didn't want to think about why.

"Yes, 'that thing,'" Sasuke said. "If you'd read the guide as you should you would know that male vampires gain the ability to grow fangs at puberty. It happens when we're exceedingly angry. Or . . . aroused."

"So you're saying 'fangs' are like a—" I started to say "erection" like I said it every day of my life. But the truth was, I had never said that word out loud, and discovered that I couldn't do it then. But Sasuke understood.

"Yes. That. Precisely. Often kind of a tandem effect, if you understand my meaning. But it gets easy to control with practice. And women can grow fangs, too, of course."

"So why can't I do it if I'm supposedly such a big-time vampire?" Sooner or later, I would confound him with logic.

But Sasuke shot right back, "Women have to be bitten first, I need to bite you. It's a great privilege for a man to be his betrothed's first bite."

"Don't start that betrothal talk again," I said seriously. Spotting the first entrance to the outlet mall, I made a quick turn. "Not even joking. We're done with that."

Sasuke tilted his head. "Are we done with it?"

"Yes."

I pulled into a parking spot. "How about mirrors? When you try on clothes, will you be able to see yourself in a mirror?"

Sasuke rubbed his temples. "Have you taken basic science at Woodrow Wilson High School? Do you know the principles behind reflectivity?"

"Of course I do. I'm the one who actually believes in science, remember? I was just joking." I yanked the keys out of the ignition. "So let's recap. You can't change into a bat, you don't dissolve in sunlight, and you're visible in mirrors. What can vampires do? Why's it so awesome to be one, then?"

"What would be so wonderful about dissolving in sunlight? Or not being able to look in a mirror and judge if you've dressed yourself properly?"

"You know what I mean. You keep saying vampires are so great. I just want to know why."

Sasuke's head dropped back against the seat. He stared at the shag carpet on the ceiling of the van as though begging for patience or guidance. "We are only the most powerful race of super humans. We are physically gifted with grace and strength. We are a people of ritual and tradition. We have heightened mental powers: the ability to communicate without speech when necessary. We rule the dark side of nature. Is that 'awesome' enough for you?"

I grabbed the door latch. "So why drink blood?"

Sasuke sighed deeply, opening his own door. "Why is everyone so obsessed with the blood? There's so much more."

"And there is something that is cool that only the Uchiha clan does making us the most powerful vampire clan, and I could show you but you will only insult it and cool it a "trick"." I stared him. "Show me oh so powerful one."

He gave me one of those sexy smirks. And then he leaned over his lips landing next to my ear. "I'll show you tonight." I blushed furiously I did not want to go in his room again. "Show me now." He just smirked at me more not giving in.

I dropped the subject. I'd sort of became distracted, anyhow, now that we were about to go shopping.

"So where do you want to go first?"

Sasuke came around the front of the van and placed his hands on my shoulders, pointing me toward the Levi's outlet. I here.

Five stores and about five hundred dollars later, Sasuke Uchiha looked almost like an American teenager. And, I had to admit, a hot American teenager. He wore a pair of 501s even better than his black pants. And when he put on a loose white untucked oxford shirt—having decided that a T-shirt would be a bit too Real World/Road Rules Challenge for Romanian royalty—well, the effect was pretty nice. It didn't seem embarrassing to be with him. Not at all. Ino would probably pass out, literally, when she saw him.

"So how about getting rid of the velvet coat?" I asked.

"Never," he replied.

So much for not being embarrassing.

We were walking toward the car, juggling all our shopping bags, when Sasuke stopped short and grabbed my arm, dropping a bag.

I turned. "What?"

He was looking in the window of a store called Boulevard St. Michel, an upscale boutique with very, very expensive clothes. The kind of clothes that rich women wear to cocktail parties. I'd never been inside. For one thing, my dad didn't believe in dry cleaning, because of the "Perce missions" that messed up the environment. And for another, I couldn't afford one shoe from Boulevard St. Michel, even at outlet prices. Not even after a whole summer slinging burgers at the diner.

"What are you doing?" I followed his gaze.

Sasuke kept staring at the window. "That dress—the one with the flowers scattered across the bodice—"

"Did you just say 'bodice'?"

"Yes, and skirt—"

"The dress with the V-neck?"

"Yes. That one. You would look lovely in something like that."

Sasuke had officially fallen off his already cracked rocker. Not only did he think he was a vampire, but now he believed I was some sort of thirty-year-old cocktail-party attendee. I laughed out loud. "You really are crazy. That's designed—and priced—for women who do things like go to, I don't know, symphonies or something."

He shot me a look. "What's wrong with the symphony?"

"Nothing. Except that I don't go. I mean, can you see me in that at 4-H? I bet it costs a mint, too."

"Try the dress on."

I pulled back. "No way. I am one hundred percent sure that they don't like teenagers in there."

Sasuke scoffed. "They like anyone with enough money."

"Then they won't like me. I don't have enough money even to look."

"I do."

"Sasuke . . ." But I'll admit, I was kind of intrigued. It was a beautiful dress. I'd never even tried on anything like it. It was so . . . sophisticated. It was the color of fresh cream, with tiny, black, embroidered flowers scattered here and there across the whole thing, not really in any kind of pattern, but that only made it prettier somehow. It reminded me of chaos theory: random but beautiful in its simplicity. The neckline was more daring than anything I'd ever worn. You could see the swell of the mannequin's plastic breasts peeking out above the fabric. The expensive fabric. I tugged Sasuke's arm. "Come on. Let's go."

Sasuke pulled back, and of course he was stronger. "Just look. Every woman needs beautiful things."

"I don't need that."

"Of course you do. You could wear it to, say, this 'carnival' you're attending with me. It would be perfectly suitable for affairs like that."

"Try on the dress."

"I have plenty of clothes," I insisted. God why was he being so nice, no guy has ever tried buying me anything. I could feel the stinging in my eyes. "Sasuke why are you being so persistent?"

"Well four reasons, one being that every girls deserve something nice, two one day you're going to be my wife and I want you to know now I think you deserve the best, three you need something to wear for our date, four I feel like this dress will look beautiful on you."

I looked at him my eyes trying to fight back tears. Sasuke noticed and walked towards me pulling me into a hug. "Look Saku I don't know much about your past with time I will learn more. But please just allowed me to buy this, at least as an gift?"

I looked at him. He really found me beautiful didn't he. I sigh rubbing my eyes and pulling from our hug. "Fine, you win."

He smirked"Yes I know. And you should throw out all of your t-shirts. Especially the T-shirt with the white horse, the heart, and the letter I on the front. What is the purpose?"

"To show that I love Arabians," I said.

"I love rare steak, but I don't sport the image of raw beef on my chest."

"I already picked out an outfit."

Sasuke scowled. "Something shiny from 'the mall,' I suppose?"

I flushed. I hated when Sasuke was right.

"Believe me," he said. "If you wear that dress, you won't regret it. That was made for you."

I narrowed my eyes. "How do you know about dressing girls?"

"I don't know about dressing girls. I know about dressing women." Sasuke smiled archly. "Now come along. Indulge me. And the designer who picks my clothes gave me tips for when I married a women, how to buy her clothing gifts"

Sasuke led the way into the store, and I had to follow. As I'd predicted, the sales lady looked less than thrilled to see two high school students in her showroom. But Sasuke was oblivious. "That dress in the window, with the embroidery." He pointed to me. "She'd like to try that." Crossing his arms and leaning back slightly, he mentally measured my body, head to toe. "Size eight?"

"Ten," I mumbled.

"The ten is in the window on the mannequin," the sales-woman noted. She jammed her skinny, red-finger nailed hands on her hips. "It's very troublesome to bring it down. If you're not serious about it. . ."

Uh-oh. There wasn't much that I understood about Sasuke Uchiha, but I knew for a fact that the saleslady's tone would not sit well with him.

Sasuke arched an eyebrow. "Did I not sound serious?" He leaned forward, reading the woman's name tag. "Leigh Ann?"

"Come on, Sasuke ..." I started for the door.

"We're in rather a hurry, so if you could get it now, please," Sasuke said, holding his ground. It was suddenly very easy to imagine him ordering around servants in a castle.

The saleswoman narrowed her eyes, assessing Sasuke. Apparently she sniffed at least a hint of money in his cologne, heard it in his accent, or saw it in his swagger. "Fine," she huffed. "If you insist." She crawled up into the window and came back out a few minutes later with the dress. "Here," she said, draping it across my arms. "The dressing rooms are in the rear.

"Thank you," Sasuke said.

"Whatever." Leigh Ann moved behind the counter, proceeding to ignore us.

Sasuke followed me back toward the dressing rooms. I stopped him at the entrance with a firm hand on the chest. "You wait here."

"Let me see, though."

In the privacy of the dressing room, I kicked off my Chucks, wriggled out of my jeans and T-shirt, and slipped on the dress, wishing I was wearing a nicer bra. A bra that would do the dress justice.

Although it looked delicate, the fabric was heavier and softer than anything I'd ever owned. I zipped up the back as far as I could, the dress fell into place around me, and suddenly all the places I hated most on my body transformed into my best assets. My breasts filled out the bodice even better than the mannequin's angular, skimpy little peaks. Looking at myself in the mirror, I remembered what Sasukehad said about "pointy" girls and the benefits of having curves. In that dress, I understood what he meant.

The hem swirled around my knees, and I twirled a little, staring at my front. My back. The fabric swept close to my full hips and draped perfectly across my butt. Sasuke had been right. I looked good. It was like a magic dress.

"Well?" Sasuke called from outside the dressing room. "How is it?"

"It's pretty," I admitted, understating how I really felt. Which was beautiful

"Come out, then."

"Oh, I don't know ..." I was kind of embarrassed to show him. I glanced down at my chest. Skin usually covered by shirts was peeking out. The swell of my breasts—breasts I usually tried to de-emphasize—was visible for the world to see. For Sasuke to see. It wasn't obscene, by any standard.

But it was revealing for me.

"Saku, you promised."

"Oh . . . okay." I tried to pull up the bodice a little but to no avail. My curves refused to hide. "Don't laugh or anything. Or stare."

"I will not laugh," Sasuke promised. "There will be no reason to laugh. But I might stare."

Taking a deep breath, I shoved aside the curtain.

Sasuke was lounging in the chair set out for bored husbands, his long legs stretched in front of him. But when he saw me, he shot straight up. Like I'd jolted him. And I swore I saw appreciation in his black eyes.

"Well?" I resisted the urge to cross my arms over my chest as I spun to look in the mirror. "What do you think?"

"You—you look amazing." Sasuke stood, coming up behind me, never taking his eyes off me.

"Really?"

"Beautiful, Sakura," he murmured. "Beautiful."

Before I could remind him not to call me by that name, Sasuke stepped even closer to me, slipped his hand under my long, unruly hair, and pulled the zipper all the way up. "Women always need help with the last few inches."

I swallowed hard. How experienced was he? "Urn, thank you.

"My pleasure." Then, to my intense surprise, Lucius snaked his fingers into my curls and gathered them up into a big, loose twist on top of my head. Suddenly, my neck looked very long. "Now that's how a Romanian princess should look," he said, drawing down to whisper in my ear. "Don't ever again say that you are not 'valuable,' Sakura. Or not beautiful. Or, for god's sake, 'fat.' When you get the urge to indulge in such ridiculous, misplaced self-criticism, remember yourself at this moment."

No one had ever paid me a compliment like that. I had the urge to fight back my tears again. Most guys only said the worse for me.

For a minute, we stood there admiring me. I met Sasuke's eyes in the mirror. In that split second, I could almost picture us . . . together.

Then he released my hair. It tumbled down my back, and the spell was broken. I glanced down at the price tag. "Oh my gosh. I have got to take this off. Right now. Before I sweat on it or something."

Sasuke rolled his eyes. "If you must refer to 'sweat' in reference to yourself—and I strongly discourage it—use the word perspire."

"I'm serious, Sasuke. I'm about to start perspiring over the price."

Sasuke bent to read the number on the tag and shrugged.

I hurried back to the dressing room, yanking on my jeans and lacing up my battered Chucks. The princess effect was definitely gone. Reluctantly, I handed the dress to the saleslady, who was waiting, holding a beautiful black cashmere wrap. "I'll box these up for you."

I glanced around for Sasuke and found him standing at the sales counter, tapping a credit card against the glass counter top.

"It's too much," I whispered, hurrying over.

"Consider it a thank-you for your shopping guidance today. My gift for your gala."

Leigh Ann carefully packaged the dress and the wrap in two boxes and handed them to me. "Enjoy." She had warmed considerably after the credit card had been approved.

"Have a nice day, Leigh Ann." Sasuke placed a hand on the small of my back, guiding me out of the store.

"I really don't know what to say," I stammered when we were outside. "It's such a huge gift. The dress alone cost a fortune, and the wrap is cashmere."

"It will no doubt be cool at night, and you can't wear a 'jean jacket' with that dress."

"Well, thank you."

"I told you. Every woman deserves beautiful things," Sasuke said. He paused outside, scanning the storefronts. "Couldn't you go for a Strawberry Julius about now?"