Freaksville

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Freaksville Page 4

by Ashley Brooke Robbins


  “What the hell happened?” Nicks asks, even though I think it’s pretty obvious. Especially when the new vamp –New Born—whatever, spots him and hisses. I slap him.

  “You don’t go around biting random people, you jackass!” I want to strangle him but stop myself. “And you at least gotta buy someone dinner and a movie before you attempt to drink their blood, all right? Learn some damn manners….”

  A small, devilish grin takes over Devin’s features, “Is that all?”

  “I might make an exception for you, baby.” I wink.

  “So…hungry….” the New Born growls, starting to fight against Devin. Not seeming to have much patience tonight, Devin puts his hand on the back of the New Born’s head and whispers in his ear. A peaceful expression comes across his face.

  “Do you have any bags he could have?” Devin asks the guys. They gaze at each other awkwardly. “Now would be nice,” he barks, and they snap out of the awkward state. Jake helps Kyle—who’s finally starting to regain consciousness—to his feet.

  Nicks nods once and heads out the door.

  “You okay?” I ask Kyle once he’s caught up with recent events.

  He shakes his head like a dog and wiggles his shoulders. “I’m fine.” Soon he’s able to stand on his own, and Jake slaps him on the back in a guy-like fashion. Then Kyle glances over at me. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” I put a hand to my neck, still feeling the sticky moisture of my life’s blood pouring out of me. Not worrisome at all.

  Devin’s eyes widen, “You’re bleeding?”

  “A little, but I’m fine.” I don’t think I’m bleeding that much anymore. Who the hell knows how much he actually took from me. Soon Nicks comes back with some blood bags along with Antonio, thankfully taking the attention away from me. “We need to get out of here.” They could be back at any minute. We were supposed to get in and then out. Knowing our luck, we’ll be caught with a corpse that just so happens to be breathing again. How lovely.

  “Where’re we gonna take him?” Nicks jerks his chin toward the New Born.

  “What about your place?” Antonio glances at me as we make our way out of the building, with a New Born sucking on some blood bags not far behind. I’m about to say sure, whatever, but then the warning bells ring loudly.

  “No.” I shake my head. “Billy’s there.”

  “He can stay at my place,” Devin interjects.

  “Okay, good.” I pause. “But we need to tell—”

  “What are you even doing here?” Nicks stops in his tracks, and I glare my disapproval.

  “I was on my way home when I heard Gilmore yell out for help.” He makes his way to his truck, aka the Car of Darkness, which is still idling at the curb, confirming his story for me, anyway.

  Before shutting the door he reaches under his seat and puts a few more bags in the New Born’s lap. He eagerly rips into them.

  “Thanks.” I smile up at him. “At least I’ll know he’ll be taken care of. “Like I was saying.” I give Nicks a dirty stare. “We need to tell our vampy friend here why there’s a corpse missing. Hopefully she can make something up, where the others won’t get suspicious.”

  “Yeah,” Nicks replies, still glaring at Devin, like he’s, well, like he’s an outsider. “How do we know that you’re the one who didn’t set this whole thing up in the first place?”

  “What reason would I have to hurt Nessa?” he angrily points out. “And if I hurt any of you, that’d still be hurting her. That’s something I wouldn’t want to do.”

  Fueled by his anger, Nicks’ fangs slowly slide out. “Bullshit.”

  Oh shit. Once a vamp shows their fangs, it’s a warning sign that there might be a fight, and Devin won’t be one to back down.

  “What is your problem?” he asks, advancing on Nicks.

  “I don’t have the problem.” Nicks puffs out his chest, and now they’re chest to chest, nose to nose. And they’re also starting to spin.

  “It’s obvious you do,” Devin snarls back.

  “Guys,” I yell, or at least I think I do. I meant to, but I don’t think it came out the way I intended. Because they just keep on fighting. “Hey!” I yell out, this time actually yelling. “Dumbasses, there’s probably going to be some reports about guys yelling at each other in the morgue parking lot if you do not shut it up, and that might seem slightly off.” They stop and stare at me. “Can we please go?”

  “You sure you’re okay?” Kyle asks.

  “I’d be excellent, if you’d stop spinning.” I sway then the whole world spins and I feel like I’m gonna barf. Feeling like there’s nothing solid around me, I’m surprised when my head falls against someone’s hard chest.

  “She’s lost too much blood.” Nicks sounds like he’s really far away. “Someone needs to heal her.”

  “Oh, damn.” I hide my face into the warm, firm chest. “That’d be so weird, y’all. Who’s this?” I poke the chest with my finger, not bothering to raise my head.

  “It’s Devlin,” he snickers, wrapping his arm around me. “May I?” He moves my hair away from my neck. “He got a nice chunk out.”

  “Whatever.”

  He lightly kisses my neck and then licks it slowly. I can’t hold back the shiver and a giggle. “It tickles.” After he’s done, he doesn’t let me go, and I can’t complain.

  “I feel like we should look away,” Kyle whispers.

  “Okay, lovebirds.” Nicks pulls me away. I’m too loopy to put up much of a fight. “We’re breaking this up.”

  “Who’s gonna buy me a milkshake?” I mumble, stumbling back to the car with necessary help.

  “What kind do you want?” Nicks opens the door for me.

  “Strawberry, no chocolate.” I slide into the backseat. “He really is a good guy, Nicks. He doesn’t deserve to be treated like a parasite.”

  He frowns and his gaze shoots away from mine.

  Soon we’re all piled into the car with Antonio to my left and Nicks to my right. Before we even make it to the drive-thru, my head’s on Nicks’ shoulder, and the next thing I know, I’m greeted by darkness.

  <<<->>>

  Oct. 2nd

  Waking up with a headache sucks. Heh sucks.

  I was attacked by a New Born last night, a New Born. Something that hasn’t been heard of in flippin’ centuries, which is a definite bad sign. I don’t remember coming home last night. I barely remember Devin licking my neck. Which really only tickled and sounds even weirder writing it down.

  There’s something in vamp’s saliva. I don’t know the proper DNA reference or whatever for it. But it heals you, not even leaving a scar. Thankfully, because I hate wearing scarves. It feels like I’m being suffocated by a silky snake. Is that weird?

  So, I don’t remember what they told my mom and what they didn’t. If it had been anybody else, as in someone human, she’d have been able to sense it right away. But since they’ve got that vamp thing, it’s always been harder for her to read them.

  Just like one time when we were kids, and we were playing hockey in the house. A sport I’m actually not terrible at, I might add. Nicks hit the puck and it went right through the window. We were all interrogated, if you count being bribed with chocolates and ice cream interrogated. She couldn’t tell who did it through them. And then she tried to read me.

  But, just like I am now, I was stubborn as hell and held my shields tight. There was no way I was going to rat out one of my friends.

  Till this day, she doesn’t know who the person was.

  Anyway, all I know now is somebody owes me a milkshake, maybe two, and a hot chocolate.

  Deuces,

  Nessa Gilmore

  “Nessy,” my mom yells from downstairs, both aloud and in my head. “Get your butt down here. Billy’s going to be leaving for work soon, and your breakfast is getting cold.”

  “Okay.” Shutting my purple journal, I stuff it back into its hiding space—between my mattress and box spring.

 
Then I stumble out of bed and down the hall. Only really getting up because I know I need to eat something. The annoying woozy, loopy feeling has followed me from last night.

  In other words, I feel like a bag of smashed ball sacks.

  I come down the steps slowly, scared I might fall and break something. Billy—my step-dad—looks at me and flinches. He’s got the decency not to say anything though.

  It took my mom a good three years to fully get over and move on from my sperm donor. She married Billy about two years ago. He’s forty-four and she’s thirty-eight—not that you’d be able to tell. They both act pretty childish. But it keeps things interesting. He’s tall, I guess. Salt-and-pepper hair, dark eyes, and a few hidden tattoos is what my mom fell for. He makes her happy, which is all that matters to me. He’s been a cool dad. He tries, and that’s a lot compared to my sperm donor.

  When I was younger, he used to take me, along with the guys, fishing. It was nice getting to hang out with him. He treats me like one of his own and, secretly, I really like him for that, but I won’t let him know. Who knows how he’d react? He might be happy, or he could just leave like my dad did. In conclusion, it’s complicated.

  He’s been working a lot more recently, and we don’t get to spend a lot of time together. But at the same time, I don’t feel completely comfortable asking if we could hang out, so, yeah, definitely complicated.

  “Morning.” I eye the food on my plate. I have the sudden urge to plop my head down in it. This can’t be good. Maybe I’m getting the flu? Nope, definitely mad cow. Or, even better, mad soybean.

  “Oh, honey, are you feeling okay?” Mom feels my forehead. “You’re not hot.”

  “Probably just needs some rest.” Billy smiles reassuringly. “Well, I’m off,” he announces and comes over, giving my mom a kiss. “Bye, sweetie.” He kisses me on top of the head, which makes me want to punch him.

  Not in a very good mood here.

  “Peace,” I mumble. The sound of the door slamming fills the quiet house and then his car starts. As soon as he’s out of the driveway and down the road, she steps in front of me.

  “What in the hell happened last night?” A vein threatens to pop out on her forehead. “They brought you in here unconscious and only told me that it was a great party because Billy was in the room. What the hell am I supposed to think—” My head falls into my plate of eggs and fake bacon. “Sweetheart, what happened?” she asks again, this time in a gentler voice.

  “I was attacked by a New Born,” I mumble into my plate.

  “Nessy.” She lifts my head up. Eggs flop off my forehead and land back on the plate.

  “The guy turned; now he’s a New Born. He woke up when we were there with him. Good thing it was us and not anybody else.” I roughly wipe the rest of the mess off my face with my napkin. “He threw Kyle and then attacked me. I bit his nose.” Her eyes are wide by the time I’m finished explaining and then she’s squeezing me in a hug.

  “Mom, I’m fine. But there’s other things we need to worry about. Like who in the hell turned him?” I point out, gently pulling away from her. “Whoever it was obviously didn’t care too much, considering anyone could’ve been there when he woke up. And it was like he was supercharged. He threw Kyle right over his head like they throw footballs.” More egg falls off as I shake my head. “There’s something going on in Westera. I mean more than the usual stuff.”

  Her only reply is to hug me again.

  <<<->>>

  “You okay?” Devin asks once I open the front door. He’s holding a container. “What’s that?” I ask, or try to. I’ve been losing my voice on and off all day. He passes the container over to me. I get a whiff of it, and my stomach rumbles.

  “Vegetable soup. The diner down the street’s a pretty nice place.”

  “Thanks.” I lead him to our kitchen in search of a spoon. “Want something to drink?” He declines, holding up his bottle with red stuff in it…nasty.

  “Where’s your mom and Billy?” he asks. I’ve been napping on the couch most of the day. The question is answered once I see the note on the fridge. Apparently, my mom knows me very well.

  “Grocery shopping.” I add crackers and cheese to the soup.

  “Okay.” He picks up Billy’s hot sauce and looks at it. “I bet you won’t drink this.”

  “You would bet right. That shit’s made with ghost peppers. No thank you. I’d like to keep my tongue unburned.”

  “What, you can’t handle it?” he asks with a devious grin.

  “Dude, I feel like crap. I don’t want to play this game right now.” I stir my soup. He has this thing where he constantly tries to bet me to do stupid shit. For example, stepping out of my comfort zone and going to the club or trying to make me drink hot sauce.

  “So, what I’m hearing is a no.” His grin widens.

  “Yep,” I confirm.

  “Fine then, what about ketchup?”

  “What about I cut you?”

  “How rude.” He fake pouts. “Just one little taste.” He waves the ketchup in my face.

  I finally give in, so he’ll shut up for five seconds, and rinse my mouth out with water at the sink. “You’re a bastard.” I’ll never look at it the same.

  “No, my parents were married when I was conceived, thank you very much.”

  I scowl up at him, “How old are you?”

  “Sorry.” He appears adorably sheepish. “I’m just trying to make you feel better. Want to go watch those movies you were talking about?”

  “Sure,” I sigh.

  <<<->>>

  Waking up Monday morning sucks even more than usual because I’m feeling worse. My mom tells me I should stay home, but I can’t. I need to talk with the guys about what happened. Doing my homework kept me busy, and I slept the rest of the weekend. For some reason, I’m still tired as hell.

  Going into the bathroom I almost scream at what I see in the mirror. I do jump, though. Holy crap on a cheese puff. I look like shit. My skin’s pale—paler than normal—my blonde hairs limp, stringy and all over the place. My eyes are glowing. Purple irises outlined with silver and big pupils stare back at me.

  What can be worse than having the flu? Whatever it is, I’ve got it. Is there a supernatural flu?

  Shaking my head at my reflection, I get to work on making this look less crappy, this being my face. Hello, makeup. I’m able to lighten the dark shadows but they’re still noticeable, I don’t add anything else. It might draw more attention to my eyes.

  Picking out my outfit I decide on jeans, a plain black T-shirt, and hoodie. Maybe people won’t notice me. Throwing the hood up, I make my way out the door and down the street. Devin’s usually here to pick me up, but with the New Born in his care, he probably has his hands full.

  It’s not too far. I’ll be fine.

  Around third period—PE time—I realize we’re going outside. Fun, wonderful, great, just freakin’ lovely. Coming out of the locker room in the hideous off-white T-shirt and shit-green shorts that don’t cover my large butt, an outfit otherwise known as the uniform, I get in the back of the line. Devin and Kyle join me, not saying a word at my appearance. Probably knowing I’d punch them.

  “How’s everything?” I glance up at Devin, as we hang back.

  “He’s here today,” is his reply, which has me nervously glancing around expecting him to show up and attack me again or worse, someone else. “He feels like shit about the other day.”

  “Um-hmm.” I stumble along tensing up as I try to focus on my footing and the conversation.

  “Are you sure you’re okay to play kickball?” Kyle follows us like a shadow. At least he hasn’t picked a fight with Devin.

  “Nope, but I don’t have an actual excuse except I feel like shit.” I stumble over a piece of rock that jumped in front of me. I would’ve fallen if it weren’t for Kyle quickly grabbing my arm and Devin scurrying to my side, taking my other arm.

  They’re both quiet for a moment then someone starts breathing in
deeply. “Are you bleeding?” Kyle asks all of a sudden.

  “Yep.” They both halfway carry my weight.

  “Where? Are you okay? What happened?”

  “Yeah, I’m peachy. Crimson curse is a bitch.” I can practically feel him blushing.

  “Oh.”

  I start sweating as soon as we’re on the field and the nausea returns. Fanning my hand in front of my face doesn’t stop it. Devin puts his hand on my shoulder and rubs it.

  “Baits, Conner, Gilmore, Gray, Ashton, and White, you’re out on the field,” the coach yells, and I slowly make my way toward where I’m sure the ball will never go because I don’t want to be here. I’m having problems breathing. I really should’ve stayed home.

  “It’ll be over soon enough,” Devin rumbles right behind me. “Whatever it is, don’t give me that look. I’m not leaving your side when you’re like this.”

  “Thanks,” I muster. “And thanks for healing me.”

  “Anytime.” He smirks with a wink. “If you need to focus on me, don’t worry. I won’t let a ball hit you in the face.” I blink back tears.

  “It feels like I’m on fire.” I rub at my arms.

  “Well, you are hot.”

  “Gray, Gilmore, stop flirting and pay attention to the game!” Coach Green hollers.

  When had it started? Devin keeps trying to distract me, and the burning feeling keeps getting worse. When it’s Kyle’s turn to kick, sharp pains start shooting through my back into my chest, and I want to scream. Because it keeps getting worse, until it feels like something’s trying to rip out of my back.

  Warm hands rub my shoulders, down my arms. “I need to get out of here.” I start to wobble.

  “Seriously?”

  “Something’s wrong and I don’t know what’s going to happen,” I grind out through clenched teeth. “It might be some W thing.”

  “Okay, faint,” he demands.

  “Here we go with acting again.” I double over at the pain in my stomach and “faint.” He catches me before I hit the ground. I don’t know how real it seems until Coach’s footsteps approach.

 

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