I'm Still Sadie

Interview Without a Vampire

"That's not Mommy!" the little boy roared, while I peeled myself off the tall lady that I was hugging for no reason.

Well, how was I supposed to know that? This was one challenge after another.

The lady that I hugged was laughing too, revealing perfect teeth, without even a smudge of red lipstick on them like I got when I put on makeup.

"Hi Ramona," she told me, trading in my hug for a firm and somewhat professional handshake. "I'm Pauline Lee, we talked on the phone the other day."

"Right..."

"I wanted to schedule our interview yesterday, but you were ill I hear. I was sad to hear that, but I did enjoy meeting Tommy and your parents."

"They did too?" I guessed. This was a lot of context to process all at once. This Pauline Lee was a total info dumper.

As I stared at her face, half in awe and half in nervousness, I couldn't muster out anything else. But the little boy in superhero pajamas came to my rescue by tugging on Pauline's dress, snagging her attention so I didn't have to stare at her awkwardly any longer.

"Ramona is really mean," the boy who I assumed was Tommy told her. With that out of his mouth, he undid all of his superhero work.

"I'm mean?" I asked.

"A few days ago, Ramona locked me in my closet because I picked my nose! Don't pick your nose in front of her," he shrieked out to Pauline.

I gulped at the sounds of that. Was Ramona really like that? I knew that kids could be a total pain, but even I wouldn't stoop low enough to lock a kid in a fucking closet.

Any and all feelings for this 'Ramona'' were completely negative.

"Also!" Tommy continued, begging me to hate the body I was in even more. "Ramona told me that I was adopted and I am not adopted!"

"Is that so?" Pauline asked, eyeballing me in a playful manner. "How about you can keep an eye out on her for me while I interview her?"

Tommy nodded his head and jumped up and down. "Yes! Yes! Okay! I won't let Ramona touch you!" Turning to me, he performed several karate kicks in my personal bubble.

"Whoa, Jackie Chan," I said. "Cut that out."

A few tears formed in his eyes and I squirmed a little. Kids crying was like nails on a chalkboard to me and this time was no different.

"Don't be a big baby," I said.

What was so hurtful about being called Jackie Chan? If anything, it was a compliment.

Still, I felt bad. For all I knew, he could've had a debilitating fear of martial artists and this was the stuff that Ramona put him through on a daily basis.

So one thing was clear: I wouldn't like Ramona if I met her. And that was what sparked a terrible idea in my head.

This was Ramona's interview, so wouldn't the perfect payback be messing it up? If I succeeded in this mission, she would have no one to blame except herself.

Excellent.

Pauline ushered me into the dining room and we sat in two chairs adjacent to each other. My view consisted of a tacky 'Live, Laugh, Love' poster and a mirror on a surprisingly piss-yellow free wall.

"How are you doing today, Ramona?" she asked, pulling out a notepad and tape recorder.

"I'm fine," I mumbled, distracted by my reflection in the mirror. Today I was blonde and from my knowledge of stupid teen movies, blondes were always the mean girls, which gave me further incentive to bomb this interview.