I'm Still Sadie

Interview Without a Vampire

"But please, call me Sadie," I said a moment later, oozing with confidence. If I was going to mess up this interview, I was going to do it the right way.

"Sadie?" Pauline asked, intrigued. "Is that your middle name?"

"Nope."

"Well, alright. How old are you?"

"Fifteen."

"Interesting. When is your birthday?"

"Neveruary 32nd."

"Pardon?" Pauline asked with a sweet smile.

"You heard me," I said with complete seriousness. I leaned back in my chair and rested my feet on the dining table.

"Okay," Pauline said, trying to pretend that my behavior was normal. "You are a co-founder of a charity that helps save the Amazon rainforest, a feat not achieved by many girls your age. Would you consider yourself to be a typical teenage girl?"

"Well Pauline," I said, trying to come up with an answer. She made Ramona seem like a somewhat good person, which just made my job a little harder.

But my fun just started.

"The way I see it, there are many different subgroups of typical teenage girls. Not every girl is the same, but they're the same as everyone else in their subclass."

"I see. What subclass would you consider yourself to be in?"

"Personally, I'm a bit of a jock. I'm on the basketball team. I practice so much that people wonder if I'm a lesbian."

"Do they really?" Pauline snickered but tried to turn it into a cough.

"Nope."

She eyed me oddly, but went back to her notepad a second later, most likely trying to skip past any other uncomfortable remarks I had to say in the subject.

"At age fifteen," she said. "You are already a miniature philanthropist, so what's next? What are your plans after high school?"

Instantly, I got a dumb idea for what I was going to say next. "I plan on becoming a sensation in the culinary world!"

"How do you plan to do that?" Pauline smiled at me, boasting her pretty teeth and bright red lipstick again.

"First I'll go to Paris," I told her.

Been there, done that.

"Then, I'm going to find a rat there that knows how to cook. I'll put the rat under my chef hat thing and have it control my every movement so I can be a good cook. It's basically the plot of 'Ratatouille', have you seen it?"

"I have," Pauline, said nodding her head in amazement at my stupidity.

"And wasn't that movie incredible?! Man, when the aliens visit us in a million years, you know after all the humans are long dead, I hope the one thing that they have to study and remember our existence is that movie. You can quote me on that!"

"Okay. Um, besides becoming a chef, what are some of your dreams and aspirations?"

"I would love to work for NASA," I told her. "I sent them a few emails, but they have yet to respond to my request about being launched into the sun."

"That's interesting... anything else?" She bit her lip and probably wished that I wouldn't have anything. But sorry Pauline, my guns were loaded and ready to fire.

"Yeah, I do. It's always been a dream of mine to have a training montage. Or you know what, I want a montage of me just doing a whole bunch of dunks on the basketball court. I think that would pretty sweet."

"You mentioned basketball," Pauline said, trying to change course. "Is that a hobby you've been doing for long? What other hobbies do you have?"

"Well, I love to go on WebMD and convince myself I'm dying of various diseases. Just last week I managed to believe that I had Parkinson's and Dementia, and oh I might have Meniere's disease. "

"Fascinating." Pauline blinked several times. "Have any other hobbies?"

"I love to zero in on other people's flaws," I told her. "Want me to do you?"

"Sure, I'd love to know how it works." She held her breath.

"Let me see," I said, tapping my chin. "You're unsatisfied in your current relationship and you wonder if you should dump the bastard. His name is Henry, I bet."

"Nope." Pauline shook her head with a smile.

What?! She was smiling? How could I have been any more terrible than I already was?

"I'm afraid I'm not in a relationship at the moment," she added a few moments later.

"Well, that's what you're unsatisfied about!" I shouted. "Go get yourself a man!"

Pauline disregarded my suggestion and continued to ask more questions. "Is recognizing people's flaws your hidden talent?"

"No singing is, obviously," I said, biting my lip in order to not laugh.

"That's great. Could you sing a little something?" And with that, She smiled with relief, although I knew that this wouldn't be pretty.

"Sure, here goes." I returned her smile, took a deep breath, and began to sing:

"Today is gonna be the day that they're gonna throw it back to you! By now you should've somehow realized what you gotta do! I don't believe that anybody feels the way I do, about you now!"

"Truly beautif-"

"Backbeat, the word was on the street that the fire in your heart is out. I'm sure you've heard it all before but you never really had a doubt. I don't believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now."

"As I said before," she said after my tasteful rendition of Wonderwall was over. "Your singing is really good, thank you."

I gave her a cheeky smile and fluttered my eyelashes. "You are so welcome. Not everybody gets to witness my talent like that. I think I am a great singer, what am I saying? I know I'm a great singer. Once, it brought someone back from the dead."

"It's great that you are so confident," Pauline said, choosing her words carefully. "How do you stay optimistic all the time?"

"I don't, I'm the definition of pessimism. I tried to change once and I spent the whole day thinking positive thoughts."

"And? How did that go?"

"It ended with me losing MarioKart and shouting 'That is so unfortunate!' at the TV screen." I crossed my arms and didn't break eye contact with Pauline.

"Would you excuse me?" she asked. "I need to use the restroom. Where is it?"

"Damned if I know," I responded.

Wasn't that the truth.

Pauline smiled and walked off. "I'll find it myself I guess," she said.

As she walked off, I focused on my reflection in the mirror again. Although she wasn't me, Ms. Blonde lady's mouth had moved in sync with mine in every beating to her interview.

Unlike with Clarke where my crying tips didn't work since it wasn't my face, today it haunted me that I was witnessing my awfulness.

But you don't have to.

An idea came to me, one less terrible than ones I conjured up previously. I stood up from the dining chair and reached for Pauline's purse that she abandoned. Digging through it, I uncovered the glorious red lipstick that she was advertising on her face.

But that's not where my plan ended. I uncapped the lipstick and twisted it until it was at its full height. Then, I wrote my name in all capitals right on the mirror.

Doing that accomplished two things; covering up my reflection so I wouldn't have to see myself act all terrible, and once again reminding myself that I was still Sadie and definitely not Ramona.

But of course, that action was also the cherry on top of this terrible interview sundae. I knew I had won a challenge that Pauline had no idea she was even competing in.

Oh Ramona, you were going to be sorry tomorrow.