THE VAMPIRE UNDERGROUND

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER THREE

“What?”

“Huh?”

“Did he say, make a movie?”

“Shhh.” Mr. Barker set the video camera on his lap. The noise in the classroom had gotten out of control. “Settle down, everyone.”

“I thought this was a film history class,” Brin said loudest of all.

“It is,” the teacher said, “but for all of you to better understand the medium before we study its history, I wanted to give you the opportunity to make a movie of your own. It’s not as scary as you might think. I’ll be grading you on your screenplay, cinematography, editing, music, pacing, acting, lighting, and sound, but other than that, there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Mr. Barker smiled in such a way that suggested he was kidding, but Brin wasn’t so sure. She glanced at Ash, who looked both nervous and excited. He loved movies more than his own two dads, but he had never actually made one before.

The teacher pushed a few more blue camera bags out in front of him. 

“I have five of these HD cameras, borrowed from the UNR media department. I’m going to be breaking you up into groups of six, since there are about thirty students in the class.”

Ash turned to Brin and whispered, “I’ll be the director, and you can be the star.”

“I don’t want to be the star.”

“One in the group will be the writer,” Mr. Barker continued, “one, the director; one, the cameraman; and the other three, the actors. One rule I have is that all six of you will have to be on set while you’re filming.”

“Mr. Barker,” a student from the back asked without raising his hand, “are you going to assign students to each job, or are you—”

He put his hands out. “Hold on, I’m getting there.” He sat back down at the chair behind his desk and pulled a bucket out of one of the drawers. “I’m going to be choosing names from this bucket, randomly, to decide on who’s in your groups. But when it comes to who will write the script, who will direct… those decisions are entirely up to you.”

“I hope we get in the same group,” Ash whispered.

“Me too,” Brin said.

Mr. Barker pulled the first name. “Breanna Skar.”

She smiled. “Right here. Brin.”

“Yes, Brin. Let’s see who’s in your group.” He pulled out another name. “Chace Anderson.”

“Sweet,” the jock said behind her. He kicked her chair, like he wanted her to turn around and swoon at his beautiful self. She didn’t move a muscle.

“Sawyer Neville,” the teacher said.

Brin had no idea who that was; she turned around to see a pimply-faced young man a few rows back raise his hand in apathy.

“Lavender Bickle.”

The tall, voluptuous blonde raised her hand, and Ash looked about ready to keel over in excitement.

“Oh my God,” he whispered. “I have to be in this group. You and Lavender? It’s perfect.”

“Shhh,” Brin said. When it came to Ash’s love life, there was none. But he was clearly in love with this Lavender chick.

“I have to direct it,” he continued. “And she’ll act. I’ll make her take her top off!”

Brin’s eyes widened, as Mr. Barker stopped in the middle of a sentence. He looked directly at Ash. “What about taking a top off?”