He pretended to get lost, just in case anyone was following him--after all, he wasn't supposed to know where Paige lived. He'd clearly never been there, not to TP her house, and certainly not for a random makeout session back in the seventh grade. But eventually he found it, brand new convertible and all.
He got briefly distracted with the lovely car, and he allowed himself a moment to daydream about all the mods he would have liked to make. But as nice as cars were, they didn't make him any more satiated, so he forced his mind back to the present.
He considered re-trying the trellis, as there was one on her house, but he quickly decided against it. He may have failed a few classes, but he wasn't a total idiot. He also considered the doorbell, but that was much less entertaining. So, reverting back to his days as a pollywog in Wasaga Beach, he grabbed a rock and tossed it at the front window. But Sean had the luck of the English (or the French? or anyone who wasn't Irish, anyway) and it bounced back and hit him square in the forehead. So much for that. There weren't any larger rocks in close vicinity, so it was back to the doorbell.
Much to his dismay, however, the doorbell was broken. Poor Sean was reduced to pounding on the door, and ever since he'd gotten together with Ellie, he'd been using lotion on his hands. It made them softer, and therefore it made him much more likely to get lucky. Unfortunately, it also made slamming his fists against a metal door rather painful. He gritted his teeth and did it anyway.
"Come in!" The call was faint and it came from upstairs, but it was definitely Paige's voice. He tried the doorknob, and sure enough, the door was unlocked. "Well poo," he muttered under his breath.
He skipped up the stairs, his stomach rumbling, although he was slightly turned off by all the pink. It was everywhere. On the walls, on... well, the walls. But it seemed like it was everywhere, and isn't that what counts?
"Howdy!" he said, when he reached Paige's room.
"Sean?" She wrinkled her nose. "Hold on, okay? I'm on the phone with Hazel." She shoved some clothes off her chair, providing a shaky perch for Sean, then rolled over on her bed, turning her back to him.
"Um, sure," he said. "Why not." He took the opportunity to examine his nails and realised just how much dirt had gotten under them. He reached toward Paige's manicure equipment.
"Hazel? Sorry about that. What? Oh, yeah. Sean's here." She rolled her eyes pointedly in Sean's direction, and then caught sight of what he was plotting to do. "Oh don't even!" Paige started. "Huh? No, Hazel, not you. Look, I have to go." She hung up, already pouting, and turned her glare toward Sean. If he hadn't already been dead, that would have clinched it. "Why are you here? Shouldn't you be with your vampire girlfriend?"
"She's not a vampire!" he said quickly.
"Whatever. Get on with it. What'd you want, advice on a birthday gift or something? Because I am so not the person."
"I am the terror that flaps in the night!" he proclaimed. "I am the... uh... bubblegum! that... sucks your blood!"
"You're Darkwing Duck?" she said dubiously.
Silly Sean. The poor guy hadn't even realised he was plagiarising--he'd actually thought that he'd come up with something brilliant and original.
"D'oh!" he exclaimed. "I mean, shut up."
"And blood-sucking bubblegum? Okay, hun, next time you want to plagiarise? At least do it right."
"Why did you have your door unlocked anyway?" he asked. "Do you know how unsafe that is? Anyone could have just walked in!"
She rolled her eyes. "Clearly."
He stuck out his tongue at her and she returned the gesture. "I mean, you could have been robbed!" he continued. "Or killed! Although, speaking of which, we really should get down to business."
Paige flicked her head around and as usual, her hair fell perfectly into place. She'd clearly been a cat in a previous life--perfect hair, and a god complex. "What business?" she asked.
"I'm a vampire," he explained. "And I'm here to have a snack. And get revenge on Ellie's behalf."
"Okay, what have you been smoking? I mean, pot is fun, but it's not that good!"
"But when I bite you, I get to decide whether or not you die," he explained, ignoring her cruelty as best as he could. "I could kill you, or I could only sort of kill you, and you could join my little posse."
"Join your... posse? Eww. I mean, have you taken a look in the mirror lately? You clothes are hopelessly outdated, and you're looking way too pale. I'd rather die than risk looking like that."
So she did!