by Gayla Twist
I climbed into bed later still feeling weird and longing for Jessie. I had quickly become addicted to hearing from him every night, but it was close to midnight and he still hadn’t come by, so I knew there was no chance. He was too polite to disturb me past ten o’clock.
I wish I was the kind of person who sleeps soundly, who could just close my eyes and lay my head on the pillow, drifting off peacefully into a world of dreamless sleep. Unfortunately, that’s not me. I’ve never been good at sleeping. My dreams are too vivid and frequently frightening to make sleeping an enjoyable thing. That was one of the reasons I started a dream journal. That and to try to make sense of the dreams that might have been Colette’s memories. I’d kept the journal for months now, but it didn’t make anything any clearer.
Learning that vampires existed also had not helped me when I tried to catch a solid eight hours. In fact, having Jessie in my life had the exact opposite effect. Yes, there were many nights when I lay awake, twisting around in the sheets thinking of his body pressed against mine, but that wasn’t the problem. I could handle sleep loss due to lust. What was really dragging me down for the moment was waking up repeatedly during the night, convinced that the creepy scar-faced vampire had somehow entered our home and was after me. Or worse, had somehow gotten to my mom. The dreams got so bad that I actually got out of bed and crept down the hall, hovering outside my mother’s bedroom until I convinced myself that the sound of heavy breathing on the other side of the closed door was actually her.
*****
Trying to get to the mall on the eve of Christmas Eve is like … trying to drive anywhere in Los Angeles on a regular day. Actually, I wasn’t sure about that. I’d never been to LA, but from everything I’d seen on the news, it looked pretty bad. Either way, there was a huge snarl of traffic surrounding the Tiburon Mall, and it wasn’t moving anywhere any time soon. I had thought getting up early enough to hit the mall in the first hour it was open would have been sufficient to avoid the crowds, but I guess I should have camped out, warming my hands over a fire in a metal barrel like a movie hobo or something.
Finally, I just gave up and turned down a side street when I had the opportunity. I drove for about ten blocks before I found a place to park. As I got out and started trudging back toward the mall, it began to snow. Because of the deceptive lack of snow when I started out for the mall, I hadn’t anticipated it being cold out, and I didn’t dress in enough layers. I pulled up my hood and struggled to button the top button on my coat.
I had foolishly assumed that last-minute shoppers would be focused on grabbing random sweaters or duking it out in the toy store. It didn’t make sense to me that everyone within a fifty-mile radius of Tiburon would wait until the last minute to buy a cell phone. The store actually had a sign-up sheet where you would leave your name and cell phone number so you could shop elsewhere while waiting. It was a pretty considerate thing to do, seeing that I had to wait in line behind seven people to even sign the sheet. I guess their idea would keep the fist fighting to a minimum. People can get pretty rabid about line cutters around the holidays.
Four hours later, I was trudging through the snow back to the car feeling like a Viking after a successful hunt. I had acquired a smartphone, a service package, and the cheapest signal booster they had. I’d purchased the bare bones, most basic service plan they had, but had still gone way over our agreed-to budget. After all the ridiculously expensive gifts he had given me in the past, he was just going to have to deal with it.
As I sat in my bug, letting it warm up, my own cell rang. It was Blossom. “Hey,” I said. “What’s going on?”
“What do you mean ‘What’s going on?’ What does that mean?” she said, obviously annoyed.
“Uh …” I seriously had no idea what she was expecting.
“Are you my best friend or not?” she demanded.
“Yes,” I said, without hesitation. “I am your best friend. Is this a quiz or something?”
“No,” she answered, sounding miffed. “I was just wondering why you weren’t over here helping me bake cookies and get ready for the party. Like we do every year. Or aren’t you coming?”
“Oh!” I exclaimed, banging myself on the forehead. “I’m sorry. I’ve just had a really hellish time at the mall and barely escaped with my life. I’m heading to your place right now.”
My excuse seemed to mollify her. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll see you in a little bit.”
I actually really wanted to go home and lie down. Christmas shopping was always bizarrely draining. Plus, it was really bothering me that I hadn’t heard from Jessie. Was there something wrong, or was I just being paranoid?
When I got to Blossom’s house, she flung open the door and then bolted back into the kitchen. The smoke detector was going off, and a billow of black smoke was rolling out of the kitchen and starting to fill the hallway. I charged after Blossom, immediately pulling the collar of my coat to cover my mouth. I didn’t know if we were dealing with an actual fire or just some over-toasted holiday cheer.
When I charged into the kitchen, I saw Blossom pulling out of the oven a cookie sheet that held smoking bits of charcoal I assumed had been sugar cookies in a previous life. When she shoved the tray into the sink, I shouted at her, “No! Outside. Take them outside. Go out the back.” I immediately wrenched open the Costers’ back door so she would have an easier time.
After Blossom rushed past me, I opened the kitchen window and a few others in the adjacent rooms. It was freezing out and a bit of snow drifted in, but I didn’t know of any other way to clear the smoke.
Blossom came back in with the empty cookie tray. I assumed she’d dumped the smoldering bits of coal into the snow. “Can you see why I need your assistance here?” she demanded, as if it was my fault she let the cookies burn.
I nodded at her. “You never do like using a timer, do you?”
Rolling her eyes, Blossom responded, “It’s not that I don’t like using a timer, it’s that I forget to use the timer. It’s your job to remind me.”
“Knock, knock.” We heard the sound of a female voice calling from the front door. I’d left it open when I’d seen the smoke.
I turned to look at Blossom and she shrugged. “When you didn’t show up this morning, I called Sheila.”
“Great,” I grumbled at her. “You could have just called me earlier.”
“I know, but I was feeling vulnerable because you’ve been blowing me off lately.” Blossom said it in a fake pouty voice, but I knew there was some truth behind it.
Baking and decorating sugar cookies actually turned out to be fun, even with Sheila there. I was expecting a constant flow of snarkiness directed at me, but there really wasn’t that much. But Sheila apparently did have something against a girl in our class named Haley Scott. “She is such a mega-slut,” Sheila said, warming to her task of tearing into the girl.
“Haley?” Blossom asked, wrinkling her nose in disbelief as she shook red sprinkles over a row of candy cane cookies. “Are you sure about that? I’d be more willing to believe she’s Amish than someone who sleeps around.”
I had to agree with Blossom. I didn’t know Haley Scott very well, but she appeared to be a shy girl who dressed fairly conservatively and pretty much kept to herself. “Who does she sleep with?” I asked as I spread a thick layer of white frosting across the belly of a snowman cookie. Any of those terms like “sleeps around” or “gets around” or “puts out” really bothered me because they’re all about slut-shaming the girl while leaving any boys potentially involved as completely anonymous.
“Lots of guys,” Sheila said, helping herself to a handful of chocolate chips.
I wasn’t going to let her off that easily, so I prodded her. “Yeah, but who specifically?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Sheila said. I could tell she was annoyed I was pushing her for details, but she was the one slandering another girl. “Tommy Sherman says she’s pretty much there whenever he wants it. It’s like ordering a pizz
a.”
“Tommy Sherman?” Blossom said, doing little to hide her disbelief. “I seriously doubt that.”
Tommy Sherman was on the verge of handsome. He was the star of the basketball team and really popular. But given both their social standings, I seriously doubted that he and Haley had ever been alone in the same room together, let alone had sex. “Are you sure she’s just not his math tutor or something?” I asked. As far as I knew, Haley was wicked smart. “I seriously doubt Haley would go for a guy like Tommy Sherman.”
Sheila shrugged. “That’s not what Tommy says.”
I knew that high school boys were more than likely lying about any sexual conquest they were bragging about. It did surprise me that Sheila didn’t realize that boys would lie about that kind of stuff. “I’m sure he’s exaggerating,” I said, picking up a tube of green frosting to add some stripes to a couple of Christmas ornament cookies.
“Well, what about you?” Sheila said, going on the offensive. “Where’s this magically delicious Vanderlind boyfriend that we’ve heard so much about?”
That’s what I got for trying to defend Haley. Sheila wouldn’t dare get angry with Blossom, who was also calling her on her slut-shaming, but she had no problem with targeting me. Blossom immediately tried to come to my aid by saying “She doesn’t always talk about him,” but that only made Sheila focus on me more.
“Seriously, Aurora. Where is Mr. Wonderful? Is he coming to Blossom’s party, or will there be a last-minute excuse?”
“What are you trying to say?” I asked, resisting the urge to squirt the green frosting in her face.
“I’m saying that you accuse Tommy of lying, but you’re not so handy with the truth yourself. Are you?”
“She’s not making it up,” Blossom protested, outraged on my behalf.
Sheila swung around to look at her. “Oh? And have you seen this mysterious Vanderlind boyfriend?”
“No,” Blossom had to admit, “but I’ve been standing right next to her when she’s called the castle.”
“But you’ve never actually met him?” Sheila pressed, a look of triumph flashing in her eyes. “So, tell us, Aurora,” she said, swinging back around on me. “Is this boy like an imaginary friend? You totally think he’s real, but the rest of us can't see him?”
I wondered, and not for the first time, why Blossom chose to hang out with someone as nasty as Sheila. Their friendship was sporadic. Blossom would at some point get sick of her bitchiness and blow Sheila off for a while, but they always drifted back together again.
“Well?” Sheila said, interrupting my ruminating.
“He’s coming to the party,” I said as matter-of-factly as I could muster. “It’s not a big deal.” I started frosting again.
“Sure it’s not,” she said with a significant eye roll. I guess she could sense the chronic insecurity just hanging off of me.
Thankfully, Blossom was able to turn the conversation away to less volatile topics after that. I tried to participate and sound light hearted, but in the back of my brain I was constantly thinking How the hell am I going to get my vampire boyfriend to Blossom’s Christmas Eve party?
By the end of the day, I was sticky with frosting and feeling slightly sick to my stomach. I tried to blame it on all the sweets I had been sampling for the last several hours, but part of it was dreading the call I was going to have to make after the sun was fully down.
Chapter 20
I drove home as the sun started to set, forcing myself to focus on the road. It was tempting either to keep constantly scanning the sky for hostile bloodsuckers or to sit for two cycles of a red light, chewing my lip and wondering what was going on with Jessie.
By the time I pulled in the garage, I had psyched myself up to calling him. He was my boyfriend, after all. I didn’t want to be one of those girlfriends who were too clingy and needed constant attention, but I was entitled to call him once in a while. Wasn’t I?
Even with all my mental prep, I waited a good forty-five minutes before picking up the phone. I didn’t like when people called me first thing when I got up in the morning, so I figured the same held true for vampires when they first got up at night.
Once I couldn’t think of any other excuse not to call, I pulled out my cell and hit Jessie’s number.
“Wanderlind Castle,” Viggo answered.
“Hi, Viggo. It’s Aurora,” I said, knowing my voice sounded way too chipper.
“Miss Aurora, it is nice to hear from you. Vould you like to speak to Mr. Jessie?” he wanted to know.
“Yes, please,” I told him, my foot tapping out an involuntary tempo.
“Please hold,” Viggo said, and then I heard him put the phone down.
The castle was large. Castle size, in fact. And I didn’t think they had any kind of intercom system or anything, so it didn’t surprise me that I was left waiting for a good five minutes before I heard Jessie’s melodious voice. “Hello?” he said. “Aurora?”
“Hi,” I said, trying not to sound breathless.
“Is anything wrong?” he asked immediately.
“No,” I told him. “Why?”
“I was just wondering why you called.” His voice sounded guarded.
“Um, Jessie …?” I said. “It’s perfectly normal in this century for a girl to call her boyfriend. You realize that, don’t you?”
I heard a different male voice in the background say, “Is that the girl?”
“Aurora,” Jessie said. “Would you please hold the line for a moment?” Before I could answer, I heard the phone being muffled against something, probably his chest. There was a brief conversation between Jessie and the unidentified male, but I couldn’t make it out. After a few moments, he came back online and said, “Okay, I’m listening.” I knew he wasn’t really listening.
“Blossom’s Christmas party is tomorrow night,” I told him, deciding to forego repeating the explanation as to how the reason I called was because we were in a relationship and it was perfectly acceptable for me to call. “It’s outside, so there won’t be any problems about an invitation,” I hurriedly added before he had time to protest. “I was just wondering if we’ll be going to the party together or what?” I couldn’t summon the nerve to ask him if I was still invited to the castle later in the evening. He hadn’t brought it up since first mentioning it.
“Aurora, I don’t think it’s advisable for you to go out after sunset right now,” Jessie said, his voice strained, letting me surmise that the someone else was still listening. “In fact, I would discourage Blossom from having a party at all.”
When a vampire tells you not to go out at night, it’s usually advisable to listen. And half of my brain was shouting at me, Listen to him! He obviously knows what he’s talking about. But the other half of my brain was thinking Sheila will never let me live this down if I don’t show to the party. She will mock me forever. It’s absurd to prioritize high school BS over self-preservation, but it was compounded by my feeling insecure about calling and not hearing from him the previous day. And that he’d completely stood me up just the other night. As the icing on my cake of insecurities, there was the fact that someone was eavesdropping on our conversation. I heard the anonymous male voice say, “Oh, let her go to the party. She’s a young girl. She needs to socialize with people her own age.” The voice was as smooth as Jessie’s but with more than a hint of arrogance.
“Jessie,” I said, my voice coming out sharper than I intended. “Would you mind letting me know who else is listening in on our conversation?”
“Oh.” Jessie apparently hadn’t realized that I could hear the commentary on the other end of the line. “My cousin Dorian just arrived, and he has a lot of opinions.” He said the second half of the sentence with significance, and I could tell he was probably shooting the cousin a few daggers with his eyes.
“Okay, fine,” I said with a sigh. All I needed was another Vanderlind who didn’t like me and felt the need to express his opinions. Jessie’s brother was quite eno
ugh, as far as I was concerned. “Here’s the deal,” I told him. “I’m going to Blossom’s party tomorrow night. I would really like it if you were there. Hell, you can even bring your cousin, if it’s that big of a deal to you. But just so you know, I’m going to be there.” It was a dirty bit of manipulation on my part. I was pretty confident that if Jessie thought I was in danger, he wouldn’t tolerate me going to the party without him. He would have to attend. I wasn’t proud of myself, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to spend the rest of my high school career being mocked by the likes of Sheila.
I heard the cousin exclaim, “A mortal party? With young people? I haven’t been to one of those in almost a century. Please tell your young mortal that I am RSVPing yes.”
“Aurora,” Jessie said into the phone, and I could tell he was not pleased. “This is a very bad idea.”
“Is that how you treat your mortal?” I heard the silky voice of Jessie’s cousin exclaim in the background. “And this is a modern way to behave?” I could almost hear him rubbing his chin as he thought about it. “Fascinating.”
I felt a wave of remorse wash over me. I had just invited my vampire boyfriend and his cousin, who I had never met but who sounded like a typical arrogant vampire, to my best friend’s Christmas party. There would be dozens of mortal teenagers there. In fact, there would be almost every friend I had at Tiburon High. I was being stupid and pigheaded and selfish. “You’re right,” I said, after a few more seconds of internal struggle. “Forget I even said anything.” I could suck up being mocked by Sheila. It wouldn’t be the end of the world. Better to keep my friends safe than save my ego.
