Vampire Fever

It's 7:45 AM downtown, in the sophomore hallway of Chattanooga's largest Christian academy. Yawning teenagers in Sperrys and Ralph Lauren polos lounge sleepy-eyed against the walls discussing the latest social scandals and last night's geometry homework. Distinct, tight-knit circles form: squealing cheerleaders in Jimmy Choo espadrilles; sporty, ponytailed girls right-off-the-track in running shoes and ankle wraps; and the expletive bursting, hungover druggies with blackened undereye circles and pant waists dragging the peach linoleum tiles.

Where, oh where, are the art kids?

Look a little closer, you may have missed them. They're the small group slouched on the floor near the math room, making no eye contact and uttering no sound. Their attention and faces are religiously buried in several copies of a small, black book whose cover portrays pale, petite female hands holding an apple. What is this book, so addictive and obsessive, which draws them so willingly away from their iPods and chemistry reports?

Twilight.

Oh, yes. Until recently, I admit that i was a nonbeliever. When reading replaced conversation in the hallway before class, I turned up Regina Spektor in my earphones and flipped through Elle. When bickering about "who has Eclipse now?!" or "are you almost done with New Moon yet??" replaced controversy over the origins of my would-be lover's mysterious orangey tan, I considered it natural. When my sister began searching for "Edward Cullen Fan Fiction" rather than doing her report on the Roman Empire, I was slightly apprehensive. When Caroline, a slightly flighty but exceptionally level headed rock bassist proclaimed, "You know, I'm pretty pale... and I really don't sleep that much. I think I'm a vampire!", I laughed indulgently. When "I always picture myself as Bella" was the sole topic of an animated small group conversation, I snorted, "Bella! That's my cat's name." But when eager perusal of this all-consuming trilogy dominated the all-important "nap time" in Bible class, I was shocked and alarmed. What was this-this thing that was driving my friends to the point of madness with suspense, with the inability to set it down for any length of time?

Being a journalist at heart, I set myself out on a mission to investigate this heroin-like novel which had so captivated everyone around me. I plopped it down on the counter of Barnes & Noble along with Mansfield Park and the new Lucky, contemplating the amount remaining on my debit card, when the gothic looking cashier- heavy black eyeliner, studded belt on wide legged pants and all- gasped, nose ring quivering with emotion, and stuttered: "oh! i LOVE this book! Vampires Rock!" Hmmm, i thought. Note to Self: obsession NOT limited to single demographic. My Lacoste-clad, southern Baptist mother glanced at me in quiet alarm. Another Note to Self: await brutal, terrorist-like interrogation and half-hour long discourse on "filling your mind with evil" in the car, young lady.

Upon arriving home, non-lawyer-like discussion capabilities exhausted, I curled myself into a ball on my mattress and opened the book.

I'd never given much thought as to how i would die... but even if I had, I would never have imagined it like this.

Hmm. This should be interesting.

But, like many a petulant athiest setting out to disprove Christianity, I was converted in the process. Now those whose obsession I mocked can smile smugly from beneath their Spring Break tans and say, "Oh, you've only now finished Twilight? It's too bad someone's borrowed New Moon..." Yes, one might say i was bitten- enthusiastically, even- by Edward Cullen. I've caught Vampire Fever.

Two hundred pages into the book, the persistent vibrating of my cell phone dragged me away from my blissful reverie, forcing me to look at the clock. Three hours! And OH, Matt, why MUST you have texted me RIGHT this INSTANT? Who CARES if my prom dress matches your tuxedo? Edward just saved Bella's LIFE!

It's true. I'm officially addicted. In two enraptured days, I have feverishly devoured all 498 pages of my new favorite treat, gulping it down ravenously between Church services and untimely trips to Lowes, and while elder-sitting my Alzheimer's afflicted grandmother. Unlike the sophisticated Cullen family, who abstains from their "natural food source" in favor of less morbid mammals such as squirrels and mountain lions, I am not nearly strong enough, or willing enough, to stoop to lesser sources of occupation. Sorry, Mansfield Park, you'll have to wait. And oh, Spring Preview Lucky, I must perforce wait to scrutinize the carefully worded captions under your glorious chiffon blouses and candy colored pumps. Yes, tomorrow after band practice it's straight to Barnes & Noble again; to chat with my new aquaintence with the globby eyeliner, to meet with two other Vampire addicts at book club, and one whom shall soon join our coven: hopefully, we won't get carried away and leave her with an unsightly scar on her slender, white neck...

Really, the male perfection of Edward Cullen is reason enough to read the book. Or become a vampire. He personifies the type of boy that makes girls sigh, and glance condescendingly at the lazy, nose-picking boys around them. Besides giving females unreasonable expectations about the male gender, he is the absolute perfect partner to Bella- and we've already established that "we all picture ourselves as Bella", as she is extremely relatable and adorably flawed. Edward is sweet, protective, mysterious... and fascinating. He's the proverbial "knight in shining armor", so blinded by his deep and unconditional love for simple Bella that he is willing to deny himself everything that he desires in order to protect her. One, two, three: "awww..."

It's as simple as an Edward Cullen Fan Band (yes, they really exist) song says:
"Vampires are no fun to haunt,
but Edward, you can bite me if you want!"

You know, I have always been unnaturally pale for a Jewish girl. Strikingly so. And, it could be my eyesight, but I have been noticing a slightly blurred reflection on the offchance that i look in the mirror. And as well, I do happen to have an uncanny attraction to the ridiculously handsome lead singer of Vampire Weekend. One never knows...