Sophia would probably still be crying over me leaving to attend USC.
Not sure if I’d have flown home for my birthday or made do with whatever friends I found down there. Back when I’d been trying to decide where to go to college, Mom made a remark about most people who go out of state to earn a degree tend to stay in the area of the school. Not sure where she got the statistic beyond the majority of her friends. The ones who attended out-of-state colleges all settled permanently in the area. She figured I’d go to USC and spend the rest of my life in California. If anyone asked me why seventeen-year-old me settled on going there, I couldn’t come up with an answer. Seemed like a cool idea… maybe I’d say ‘felt right.’ Dunno. Definitely wasn’t a desire to get away from home or anything specific about California. ‘Which college do you want to go to’ received the same amount of attention any other idea crossing my teenage mind did—which is to say, not a whole lot. Some decisions really do deserve more than forty seconds of consideration. A scarily large number of people don’t develop the ability to really think things through until well into their twenties. For others, it takes much longer—this is why the Jackass movies are a thing.
Ashley thought homesickness would’ve reached critical mass in two months and I’d have come back home before even finishing one semester. Maybe she’s right. Being a thousand miles away from home is a shock—not as big as being murdered—but it might’ve hit me anyway.
Whatever. No point dwelling on what-ifs. I have more important things to worry about tonight… like what to do with the three hours not spent sitting in English lit class. Life has settled back into our version of normal. The Littles aren’t in cling mode anymore… except for Sophia. They’re not going to want to spend hours hanging out with me. Hell, they don’t really hang out with each other too much. Sophia’s usually reading, Sierra’s surgically attached to the PlayStation, and Sam’s either in his room—also on a PlayStation—or hanging out with his friends Daryl, Jordan, and now Ronan.
Ooh, thinking about Ronan makes me think about Hunter.
It’s been a while since we had some time together. Like both my friends, he’s also working and attending classes. Between their full schedules and my weird hours, it doesn’t leave us many opportunities to do stuff.
As if on cue, my iPhone rings.
It’s Michelle.
I groan at the twenty-four remaining calculus problems awaiting my attention while reaching for the phone.
“Hey, ’Chelle.”
“What’s up?”
“Homework. Been trying to develop a mental power to make this calculus do itself, but it’s not working.” I lean back in the chair, staring up at the ceiling.
She laughs. “Wow, I am really hoping I don’t have to take calc.”
“Can’t see a lawyer needing advanced math, except maybe to calculate bills.”
Ashley’s giggling erupts on the line, probably a conference call since they’d both still be at their respective jobs now.
“Ha. Ha. So, are you busy tonight?” asks Michelle.
I twiddle my pencil between my fingers, tapping the eraser end on my worksheet. “Just a little homework, but it won’t take me all night. Don’t have class, so…”
“No kidding. It’s New Year’s Day. Which means it’s also the day before your birthday. Ash and I wanna take you to dinner for your nineteenth, even if it’s a bit pointless.”
“Ooh!” I sit up straight. “It’s not pointless. Think of it as guilt-free calories. The point is spending time with friends. Hell yeah I’m up for it.”
“Sa-wee-eet!” singsongs Ashley. “We’ll head to your place as soon as we’re out of the salt mines. You got a couple hours left.”
“Cool!”
“See you soon,” says Michelle. “Gotta go. Work and stuff.”
“Right. Later.”
I hang up.
Awesome. The motivation faeries have arrived. Birthday doldrums are dead. I take a quick look around to ensure no glowing kittens, random screams, or ghostly eavesdroppers are in my room. Seems as though I’m in the clear.
Time to finish this calculus.
2
Pact
Normality has some downsides.
Relative normality, that is. As in, my relatives. Like most families these days, we don’t always manage to sit down together for a family meal every day. In the wake of my death and return, Mom, Dad, and the Littles all scrambled to make it happen. Everyone has relaxed enough to where sometimes differing schedules once again turn meals into a series of microwave entrees at alternating times. For the most part, we still try to do family dinner whenever possible, but no one freaks out over unavoidable scheduling conflicts.
On the evening of January first, we make it happen since no one has to be anywhere.
Since Ash and ’Chelle want to take me out for my birthday, I don’t eat here despite sitting at the table with everyone. Even though food goes right through me without contributing nutrition, I’m—usually—not a goose. Food takes about the usual amount of time to make its way to the other side. If I ate dinner here, I wouldn’t be able to eat anything at Denny’s.
They haven’t said it’s where we are going, but I know Ashley. We’ve been hitting Denny’s for as long as we’ve been old enough to eat at restaurants. Every time my parents took us somewhere—Ashley tended to go with us a lot to museums and kid-friendly attractions—we’d invariably end up there afterward. It’s become something of a sentimental place to us.
All three Littles are grumbly about having to go back to school tomorrow. It’s so weird how the time off from school between Christmas and New Year’s used to feel super long and awesome, but it’s really only a week. As a kid, it felt like a month. Ugh, does not bode well. If time feels shorter the older we get, I’m going to lose years in the blink of an eye at some point. Like, do vampires as old as Aurélie spend months thinking it’s 2004 when it’s really 2017 the way normal people spend most of Thursday morning excited at it being Friday only to have their hopes cruelly smashed at lunchtime?
Can’t really miss the sense of freedom from the Christmas-to-New-Year’s week off from school, since my entire existence now is basically a break from normality. Reality is a video game and I’ve clipped outside the walls into the space beyond where people aren’t supposed to go. It’s liberating not to have to do anything. Sure, there are downsides like watching everyone I know and love grow old and die. No idea how my brain’s going to handle it when it happens. From what I’ve heard thus far, my personality might be permanently stuck as it is. As in, I’m going to basically be a teenager forever, albeit an oddly philosophical mature one. Seriously, how many girls my age are already looking back on their childhood (which is all of like three years ago) with nostalgia? Doesn’t happen. Girls my age should be entirely looking forward in the ‘can’t wait to adult’ stage. Yay independence and so on. But they haven’t died and gotten back up. Survival doesn’t force them to put their lips on the necks of grubby pizza-delivery guys or old dudes who smell like cheese or men in suits wearing so much Old Spice my sinuses burst into flames.
No, I’m not bitter. Simply trying to convince myself my sanity hasn’t shattered.
Anyway, my plan for the future is more or less to take things as they come and not waste time planning or hoping for anything too elaborate. I had at least the next four years mapped out for where my life would go, and all of it went poof in a split second when Scott stabbed me. For months, I’d stressed out over moving to California, getting accepted to college, wondering what sort of career would allow me to survive—now none of it matters. So much time wasted, so much stress for nothing.
Sigh.
Whoever said hindsight is twenty-twenty needs to be slapped… for being right.
But honestly, I’m not Coralie. No way to know any of this would happen before it did.
During one of our family summer road trips—wanna say the year I was ten—we stopped at this roadside place for lunch. Dad ord
ered one thing and got an entirely different meal, something he’d never have even thought of trying. He didn’t even complain, just ate it. Said something about not wanting to waste food since they’d only throw it out if he didn’t eat it… and sometimes life gives us stuff we don’t ask for, but it doesn’t mean the stuff is bad.
I ordered college and got immortality. Pretty good trade, honestly. Much better than that weird eggplant dish.
Ashley arrives a little after six and hangs out with us at the dinner table. Normally, Mom would try to feed her since she came straight over from work, but the ’rents know we’re going out for food once Michelle gets here. The Littles complain about having to go to bed ‘early’ tonight due to school tomorrow.
“We shouldn’t have to go to school tomorrow since it’s Sarah’s birthday.” Sierra gestures at me. “Family stuff.”
“Hmm.” Mom shifts her gaze sideways to Dad, who appears to be mulling the idea.
Sierra’s eyes widen with hope. Sophia’s ‘yeah right’ expression morphs to ‘wow, really?’ Sam doesn’t show any reaction either way.
“She’s not going to be awake until a little while before you guys get home.” Mom stabs some green beans on her fork. “Nice try, though.”
“Nuts,” mutters Sierra, slouching.
Sophia shakes her head in a ‘yeah, thought so’ sort of way.
“Almost had it.” Sam grins.
“Sare could make the principal close the school for the day.” Sierra elbow-nudges me.
I laugh. “Sure, but it wouldn’t be worth the trouble I’d get into.”
“What trouble?” She ‘pffs.’ “You can make the police leave you alone, too.”
“You’re forgetting Mom and Dad?”
“You’re eighteen. Almost nineteen.” Sierra thrusts her arms out to either side. “And a vampire. You’re above petty mortal concerns.”
Dad chuckles. “I’m not sure how to feel about being referred to as a petty mortal concern.”
“Quite.” Mom appears to be trying hard not to laugh.
“Dude, she’d get so grounded for mind-controlling your principal.” Ashley snickers, then gives me a weird look. “If you had mind-control powers while we were in high school, would you have used them on anyone?”
Both parents look intently at me. Uh oh. Gotta watch what I say here. Honestly, a few times it would’ve been tempting to make teachers change their minds about surprise quizzes or erase their memory of assigning us a paper to write, but who knows where my head would’ve been if my life got turned upside down as soon as I started ninth grade. May not seem like it, but eighteen-year-old me is significantly more mature than fourteen-year-old me was.
Tactic one: attempt no self-incrimination by avoiding the issue entirely. “Other than the obvious problem of not being able to go to school in the morning.”
“Ignore that. I mean theoretically.” Ashley grins.
Crap.
“If Sare got turned into a vampire as a freshman, she’d look like a little kid.” Sierra snickers.
I sigh at the ceiling. Bad enough being an Innocent made me appear a little younger than I am—mostly in the face—but she’s right. If fourteen-year-old me ended up as a vampire, for sure I’d have been mistaken for eleven.
“Well, theoretically… I dunno. It’s different facing an annoying situation while having the ability to simply ignore it versus being in a situation where there is no choice but to deal with it.” I shrug. “Might’ve compelled Mr. Neece to get a better job.”
Ashley laughs.
“The art teacher?” asks Dad.
“I remember him.” Mom rolls her eyes. “I wouldn’t have grounded you for dealing with him.”
Heh, yeah. The guy was a trip, and not in a good way. He approached teaching art the way you’d expect an AP physics teacher to approach science. Every assignment, he’d put up on the board with this list of like twenty requirements, most of which made no sense. One time, we had to make vases out of magazine pages and he required a specific number of cords, every one of them a specific size, and so on. Like, what the heck is the point of art class when the teacher forbids any sort of creativity? He wanted everyone to make the exact same thing. That’s training underage sweat shop factory workers, not teaching art. Plus, the dude thought he was like the world’s greatest teacher. Prided himself on order and efficiency. Ugh. Art teachers are supposed to be cool! They’re the ones who smoke weed after school in their cars and hope no one notices.
Ashley and I spend the rest of dinner talking about weird teachers, irritating classmates, and other situations in which she thinks having mind-control or vampire powers would’ve been cool. For the most part, I’d like to believe my conscience would’ve self-limited me to making the bullies leave the nerds alone and not coasting through school without having to do any work. Wait, I already did coast through school while trying not to do any work. Didn’t have to be a vampire. Though, having mind powers could have changed doing minimum work to doing no work at all.
Nah. Follows Rules Girl would’ve been too afraid to get in trouble for being caught. Some schools expel kids for stupid crap like biting a Pop Tart into the shape of a gun. How would they react to catching me mind-controlling teachers? Well, I could’ve mind-controlled the principal to forget. It would have turned into a never-ending cycle.
Exhausting.
When Michelle shows up at 7:04 p.m., the three of us head out the door with little fanfare, pile into Michelle’s car, and drive to the Denny’s in Woodinville. I fail at vampire. How many immortals still feel a little thrill about going out on their own, as in without their parents along? Our ability to pick up and drive somewhere whenever we want is still new and exciting. Wonder how old a person has to get before the awesomeness of independence wears off and being able to go places without asking for a ride or permission is no big deal.
Maybe I don’t fail so much at vampire, since driving anywhere feels slow and tedious.
Not sure what makes me weirder between being able to fly or being eighteen and not really caring about having a car. Technically, I have one: Dad’s old Sentra. Comes in handy for getting to school when my classes start before sunset. Speaking of which, the early dark of winter won’t last too much longer. As soon as Daylight Savings hits again, I’ll be stuck on the road.
Talking about all the mischief and trouble I could’ve caused in high school has us in tears with laughter by the time we arrive at Denny’s. Being here with my friends feels so normal I stop thinking about supernatural stuff for a while and lose myself in feeling ordinary… at least until we stop acting like a pack of kids and start talking about real crap.
“It kinda sucks I don’t have much free time anymore.” Michelle swabs a french fry in ketchup. “Work and school are stressing me the hell out. It’s not all bad. The challenge is exciting—but I’m definitely looking forward to being done with school.”
Ashley makes a silly face at her. “If you wanted to avoid stress, you’re picking the wrong career.”
“Not all lawyers are stress factories.” Michelle shrugs. “Some sit at a desk all day long going over contracts and stuff.”
“But you’re interested in criminal law, right?” I wag a forkful of my skillet at her. “You’re diving headfirst into the chaos. Some lawyers are like the bacteria that thrive on consuming garbage—only you eat stress.”
Ashley sprays tea on a sudden explosion of laughter.
Michelle frowns at me.
“No, dork. I’m not calling you—or lawyers—bacteria. Just saying you thrive on stuff other people can’t tolerate. Garbage-eating bacteria is super useful.”
“Stop while you’re ahead.” Chuckling, Michelle picks up another fry. “You don’t think I know what’s coming? Ain’t gonna be bad when it’s only one source of stress.”
“Naw, it’s gonna be easy.” Ashley throws her arm around my shoulders. “If you’re prosecuting a real creep, you can ask Sare to make the guy just plead guilty.”
“Girl, you know I can’t.” Michelle sighs into her cup before taking a sip. “Tempting as it might be, it’s unethical.”
“More unethical than letting a creep game the system and go back out there to hurt people?” Ashley tilts her head.
They both look at me.
I shrug. “If someone’s a real threat to people, they shouldn’t be allowed to exploit a legal technicality to get away with what they did. The legal system exists to protect innocent people mistakenly charged with crimes and to make sure those who are guilty of crimes aren’t punished unfairly. But what do I know? I’m not a lawyer.”
“Gonna try and make time when I can. I miss hanging out with you guys.” Michelle leans back in her seat, gazing around at the place. “Damn. Feels like forever since we hung out here.”
“It’s okay. We know you’re super busy now.” I offer a reassuring smile. “It’s kinda normal. Mom said she drifted away from her friends after high school, too. She hasn’t seen most of them since she was our age.”
“Aww. That’s so sad.” Ashley gives me this ‘don’t leave’ look similar to the way she reacted when I told her about my plans to attend USC.
“Don’t flip out. I’m not going anywhere.”
Michelle snickers. “You guys are so cute together. When are you gonna just admit the two of you are perfect for each other?”
Ashley blushes. Yeah, she did sorta have a crush on me for a bit, but our relationship is somewhere between best friend and sister-from-another-mister.
Since we both know—or at least assume—Michelle is totally kidding, we burst into laughter at the same time.
“So what about you?” Michelle glances back and forth between us. “School and work kickin’ your butts, too?”
“Nah.” Ashley shakes her head. “I’m having a blast. It’s gonna be a lot of work, but I’m totally set on going veterinarian. School’s fun and I’m basically doing the same job as Michelle… crawling around cleaning up poop.”
Vampire Innocent (Book 10): A Vampire’s Guide To Adulting Page 2
