by Gayla Twist
He gave me a playful smile. “Precisely.”
Jessie and his family lived in a large European castle that they’d had moved brick by brick to America from Hungary right before Hitler started making serious trouble in Europe. We locals were never invited inside the castle, only to the annual garden party the Vanderlinds hosted to keep curiosity down to a minimum. Except for Blossom and me. We’d snuck into the castle during an exclusive party, which was meant only for vampires and their human companions. For better or for worse, that’s how I got tangled up with Jessie in the first place.
“So... I’m just supposed to show up at the gate before sunset?” I asked. His instructions had been perfectly clear, but turning up at the Vanderlind Castle felt like such an odd thing to do that I wanted to clarify that I’d heard what I’d heard.
Jessie nodded. “I’ll tell the guard on gate duty to expect you.”
“Okay,” I agreed, already feeling nervous about the whole thing. “If you think it’s a good idea.”
“I do,” he assured me. “And besides,” Jessie flashed me a shy smile, “I’d like to introduce you to my mother.”
There was nothing I could say that would be at all coherent, so I just nodded at him while my brain was screaming, Your mother? You want me to meet your mother?
Gathering his legs under him, Jessie made ready to leave for the night. “I have a lot to do, so I’d better say good night, then.”
“Good night,” I whispered.
He coiled his body in preparation of springing into the air, but then he paused and turned back to me. “You should probably talk to your boyfriend,” he said, his face inscrutable. “Tell him you're going to be away for a few days.” With that he leapt into the air and, in an instant, had disappeared into the night.
Chapter 10
The wind was knocked out of me as if by a blow. I literally felt like someone had socked me in the stomach. It was true; I had a boyfriend, and that boyfriend wasn’t Jessie, no matter how wrong it felt. I wanted to be with Jessie. Every fiber of my being yearned to be with him. So why was I dating Fred?
Oh, yeah, because Jessie was a vampire and had disappeared out of my life after telling me that it was too dangerous and we could never be together. He’d left me heartbroken, and Fred had been there, actually wanting to be with me. That was no excuse for dating him when my heart wasn’t really into it, but it was how I’d justified it in my head. But that wouldn’t work any longer. I wasn’t being fair to Fred, and I wasn’t being true to myself. It was going to suck, but I had to talk to Fred. I had to explain to him in the gentlest way possible that we couldn’t be together.
I climbed into bed dreading the morning.
My dream started in a way that had become familiar—me sneaking out of the house at night. But not exactly our house, not the one Mom and I lived in. This one was bigger with wood floors and a front porch that had a squeaky screen door. I was in a green and white dress that hit me at mid-calf, and I had something with me—a box or a suitcase; whatever it was, I was carrying something.
I hurried out to the road, my heart pounding with the thrill and terror of leaving. Once I was past a group of large trees, I stopped to take one last look at the house. Tiny bugs and creatures made their night music all around me. There was a lump in my throat, which I swallowed before hurrying down the road, clapping a hat to my head with one hand and toting the suitcase with the other.
Things jumped around, like they do in dreams. Suddenly, I was in the woods, and I was in a panic. My hat was gone and my suitcase along with it. At first, I was urgently trying to find Jessie, but then I became aware of something else in the woods. Something sinister; something hungry; something looking for me. I could hear it sniffing the air. Panic overtook me, and I began to run. Not an intentional sprint to safety but a flight of terror in whatever direction my feet took me as long as it was away from the creature.
My leg got tangled in a root, but this time in the dream, I didn’t just trip. It was as if a claw had burst from the ground to grab me by the ankle. I screamed as I fell. A foolish thing to do, but the terror just exploded from my mouth. The creature found me in an instant, plunging through the woods, smiling, gleeful, like a wild dog excited as it closed in for the kill.
And then the worst part. It was always the most horrible part of the dream. The moment when I recognized the bloodthirsty creature, when I realized the beast was my love. The monster was Jessie.
But this time, as Jessie gleefully closed in for the kill, Grandma Gibson sprang from the shadows, flinging herself between us. She was in her long nightgown and robe. Her silver hair was ridiculously long, hanging well past her waist, and was being whipped through the air by a wind that I hadn’t realized was blowing. “Stop!” she commanded, her entire being shimmering with a blue glow.
Jessie was propelled backward like he had been struck in the face by a weighty object. He emitted a high, animal shriek.
“You cannot touch her,” my great grandmother said in a powerful voice. “You must leave Aurora alone.”
Jessie wasn’t really Jessie anymore. He was more like an animal on four legs. I could tell by his eyes that he hated me and wanted nothing more than to end my life, but he couldn’t get by Grandma Gibson. His eyes shifted, scanning the area, looking for a way to attack me, a way to elude my grandmother, but she saw this, too. “Leave!” she bellowed, thrusting the palm of her hand toward him, the glow around her becoming more intense.
The beast let out a whimper of pain then turned and ran off into the woods.
I woke up covered in sweat, my alarm clock blaring at me. It had obviously been ringing for quite some time, and I had somehow slept through it. I was late for school.
I had to scramble, forgoing a shower or any type of hair management. I just stuffed my crazed curls into a ponytail, scraped the sleep off my face, and freshened with some lip gloss and a bit of mascara.
Fred showed up at my locker before homeroom looking like a kicked puppy. “I’m sorry I said what I said on Saturday.”
“Huh?” I was already flustered and madly grabbing books out of my locker.
“You know.” His voice dropped down to a whisper. “About falling in love with you.”
My stomach gave a giant lurch. “Oh, Fred. Don’t be sorry... I mean, I’m the one that’s sorry.”
“Yeah,” he said, his head hanging a little. “I kind of figured ‘We need to talk’ was code for you don’t want to date me anymore.”
He looked so miserable that I felt the guilt flooding over me. “I’m going to be late,” I said, glancing at the clock in the hallway. As it was, I was going to have to sprint. “Can we talk at lunch?”
“Okay,” he said. Then, remembering something he had planned, he added, “Yeah, I can’t make lunch. After school?”
Outwardly I said, “Okay,” but inwardly I was thinking, “Crap!” I wanted to wash my hair and get in the right head space for infiltrating the vampire fortress —aka going over to Jessie’s house to meet his mom. The bell rang, and we both started sprinting without another word, already late for homeroom.
Mrs. Stokes gave me the stink eye as I barged into the class while she was taking attendance. I’m not a habitual offender as far as being tardy, so I guess she decided to let it slip by. I gratefully sank into a chair and closed my eyes. I had to think of a way to end things with Fred but without leaving him so scarred for life that he could never say I love you to another female.
My brain was a total blank. I did not have much experience dating in general and absolutely no experience as far as breaking up with a guy. I had plenty of experience for being blown off by guys, but that was never in a nice way.
After stressing about it for my first few classes, I decided I needed to consult with an expert. “Hey,” I said to Blossom as we passed each other in the hall. “Want to grab lunch?”
“Can’t. No money,” she told me.
“I’ll buy if you eat light,” I replied.
She br
ightened, pleased to be offered a free meal; then she grew mildly suspicious. “What’s going on? It’s not my birthday.”
“Yeah, I know, but I need some advice,” I explained. “Boy advice.”
“Ooooh.” She drew out the word, nodding her head up and down sagely. “You’ve come to the right woman. But none of this ‘eat light’ stuff. I’m getting fries.” Blossom was blessed with the kind of metabolism where she could eat a bushel of fries and still be slender.
“Fine,” I relented. “But it better be good advice.”
She gave me a mock indignant look. “Why wouldn’t it be?” Then we both had to dash to our next class.
“So, what’s up?” Blossom asked as we sat down with our trays of food. We’d opted for fast food seeing that we didn’t actually have a ton of time for lunch. My wallet was grateful.
I took a deep breath, dreading actually telling her my problem. “How do you break up with a guy without hurting his feelings?”
Blossom’s eyes grew wide. “You’re not?” she gasped.
“I am,” I replied.
“But why? I thought you were getting along so well. I mean, once he stopped being all sexually entitled and everything.”
“Yeah,” I had to agree as I unwrapped my burger. “We kind of were, but I just...” I couldn’t tell her the truth and had no plausible explanation as to why I wanted to dump Fred. “I’m just not that into him,” I ended lamely.
“Well, get into him,” she insisted. “He’s gorgeous; he’s nice to you; he’s on the football team; he’s not a date rapist. Did it ever occur to you that your standards might be a little too high?”
“I know.” I looked glumly down at my burger. I knew before we started that Blossom was going to give me an argument, but hopefully I could get past her objections and score something useful from my lunch-purchasing investment.
“Is it as bad as that?” she asked after I didn’t say anything else for a few moments.
“Kind of. I mean, I really like Fred. Just not in the romantic way. So it doesn’t feel fair to keep dating him. I mean, I don’t want to use him or anything.”
“Hmmm...” Blossom mulled the situation over as she munched on a fry.
“Maybe I should just tell him the truth?” I asked. “Or do you think that’s too painful?”
“Well.” Blossom paused a moment to swallow her food. “If you’re going to insist upon being an idiot, then the truth is not the way I would handle it.”
“Why not?”
“Because he’ll never believe you.”
I was confused. “What are you talking about?”
“If I’m hearing you correctly, you’re thinking of saying something like, ‘It’s not you, it’s me.’ Is that it?”
“Sort of.” I hadn’t actually thought it out that succinctly, but she had the gist of it.
“Yeah, that’ll never work.” She shook her head and then took a sip of her drink.
“Why not?” I wanted to know. “It’s the truth. Don’t guys appreciate being told the truth?”
“When you tell a guy it isn’t about him, he’s never going to believe you, even if it is the truth.”
She had me completely mystified. “Why not?”
“Because guys are trained since birth to think that they are the center of the universe.”
“What do you mean?”
She looked a little annoyed at my ignorance. “I mean, every book, every movie, every TV show features guys doing stuff. It’s always about them. And even when there is a movie or something that features a woman, it’s always about her trying to get noticed by some guy.”
I knew Blossom was right, and it started almost from birth. At least for most kids. When I was a little girl, my mom read me a ton of picture books, but in the books she read to me, it was always the little girl mouse who saved her family or the little girl bear who discovered a pot of gold in the woods. I didn’t realize until I was old enough to read on my own that she had substituted all the hes with shes so that I wouldn’t feel passive about being a female. Still, I didn’t know what any of this had to do with letting Fred down easy. “What’s this got to do with my problem?” I asked her.
“Even if you tell Fred ‘It’s not about you,’ he’ll never believe you. He knows it’s about him,” Blossom explained. “Everything is about him. In Fred’s life, he’s the star of his own damn movie, so everything is about him.”
“Oh.” She had a point.
“The fact that you, Aurora, are the star of your own movie never occurs to a guy. You’re just a supporting character as far as he’s concerned.” Blossom harrumphed. “You might be the love interest, but he’s the star.”
Blossom had obviously been doing some self-help reading or taking time out for some deep, personal reflection or something. This was more insightful than her normal conversations about boys.
“Okay, that’s fine. So you’re telling me I should tell him...?” I tried to lead her to a few helpful phrases.
“Tell him anything. It doesn’t matter. Tell him the truth if it makes you feel better. Make up some crazy lie, if you think that’ll be more fun. What I’m saying is that no matter how much you try to explain that you’re not that interested in him, he’ll somehow change it around in his head so that it’s about him.”
It might have been true. It sounded pretty true from what I knew about most guys, but still I was having trouble believing it. “Are you sure about that?” I asked her.
“Trust me,” Blossom said. “I’ve broken up with enough guys to know it’s a fact.”
“So if you were me, you would tell Fred...?” I hedged, trying again to lead her into giving me a direct quote to guide me through.
Blossom sighed and chewed on the side of her lower lip while she thought about it. “For Fred? I think I’d tell him something romantic. He’s on the football team, so he understands competition. I’d say something like ‘You’re wonderful, but I feel a deep connection to somebody else, so it wouldn’t be right for us to stay together. I hope we can still be friends,’ or some crap like that.”
I had been taking a large gulp from my soda and almost choked when swallowing. Either it was an extremely lucky guess or Blossom was becoming a bit of a psychic.
Chapter 11
“Who is he?” Fred asked. We were sitting in his car in the school parking lot. I had repeated what Blossom had told me almost verbatim, and so far Fred was taking it pretty well.
“No one you know,” I replied quietly. “He doesn’t go here.”
“So, you’re with this guy? You’re together?” he asked, a bit of anger backing the hurt in his voice.
“No, it’s not like that,” I said. “We’re... well...” I wasn’t sure what I actually wanted to reveal. “We can’t be together.”
“Why not?”
“A lot of it has to do with his family,” was the best I could come up with.
“No one in my family has a problem with you,” Fred grumbled.
I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. I went with, “I’m sorry.”
“So you’re dumping me for some guy you can’t date?” I didn’t blame him for sounding a bit incredulous.
“I know,” I sighed. “It sounds completely ridiculous to me, too. I mean, you’re so great and understanding and everything, I feel like I’m making a huge mistake.”
“You are making a huge mistake,” he said with conviction. “I would never let my family keep us apart.”
“It’s not that simple,” I assured him. But defending my relationship with Jessie wasn’t the point of the conversation. I had to give Fred something to make him feel better and then just end it. “You see, even though things are complicated with...” I caught myself before saying Jessie’s name. “Even though things are complicated with him, I didn’t feel like I was giving our relationship a real chance, and that’s not fair to you. I care about you too much to do that to you, so that’s why we can’t date anymore.” In my head I added, Plus if things don’t g
o well over Thanksgiving, this way it’s just your ex-girlfriend that disappeared. Not your girlfriend. I couldn’t say that out loud, of course, but the thought was there.
Fred thought about it for quite a while, his head nodding up and down in little bobs. After two or three minutes, he finally said, “So if it wasn’t for this guy, then you’d probably be in love with me?”
“I...” I ran out of words immediately. How could I explain the feelings I had for Jessie? It was impossible when I couldn’t even explain them to myself. But still, I shouldn’t have tried to date Fred in the first place. That wasn’t fair. He wasn’t a distraction; he was a person and deserved kindness. I remembered what Blossom had said about Fred. About how he understood competition. He knew all about winning and losing. No one enjoys defeat, but people learn to accept it. “Yes,” I told him, leaning in and placing a soft kiss on his cheek. “I’m sure that if I hadn’t already given my heart away, it would probably belong to you.”
Fred flashed me a small smile. There was a glimmer behind it that I didn’t quite understand. “If you love this guy, that’s cool,” he said. “But he sounds like kind of a tool to me.”
“No, he’s not,” I assured him. Fred had no idea.
“No, I know the type,” he said, fully convinced of it. “And you’re too smart to let some guy treat you bad. At least not for too long.” He gave me a sly smile. “Give me a little time, and I bet I can win you back.”
When I finally got home, I had to scramble. Showering, blow drying my tornado of hair, trying on two dozen different outfits—it all took up time. It’s hard enough meeting the parents of some guy I’m trying to date, but what the heck was I supposed to wear to meet a vampire mom? How do you dress for that? I finally settled on my brown skirt with the white stitching, dark brown tights, Mary Jane–style black flats, a white blouse, and purple cardigan. I looked a little on the wholesome side, but I was hoping Mrs. Vanderlind would like me better for dressing traditionally. I mean, she was over a hundred years old; I wasn’t exactly going to show up bra-less with thong underwear peeking out of the back of my jeans.
