My Blood Approves mba-1

by Amanda Hocking

  “Something like that,” I mumbled. With my bowl of cereal and lemon-lime sports drink in hand, I flopped on the couch, determined to find either Looney Tunes or a really trashy Lifetime movie (the second part of my hang over cureall).

  “What time did you get in last night?” Milo questioned with a hint of disapproval in his voice. He’s two and a half years younger than me, but he’s definitely the parental figure in our relationship. Since Mom’s always working, and Dad’s been out of the picture since like the beginning of time, I guess one of us had to step up and do it. Shockingly, it wasn’t me.

  “I don’t know.” I tried to think, but I couldn’t actually remember. After we left the diner, I had pretty much been unconscious the entire time. I only vaguely (and very fondly) remembered getting the text from Jack, and I guessed it was somewhere around two or three. Either way, that didn’t seem very late, but all that damn running with and without heels had just exhausted me.

  “So what did you end up doing last night?” He had finally given up on even the pretense of doing something on the computer and tilted his chair towards me. His dark brown eyes settled on me with their usual mix of curiosity and concern, as if he always half-expected me to admit to shooting up black tar heroin and having sex for money.

  “Nothing,” I shrugged.

  This was mostly the truth, since all of our plans had fallen through and we spent the better part of the night just walking around downtown. I decided to purposely leave out any mention of Jack. Generally, I told Milo everything (even all the naughty parts he probably didn’t want to know), but for some reason, I wasn’t ready to tell him about Jack. It probably had something to do with the fact that I didn’t know how to explain him.

  “Nothing?” Milo raised an eyebrow, making this suspicious face that made him look older than he really was. Aside from the baby fat that clung to his cheeks, he could actually pass for being older than me. I lacked the wisdom and general common sense that he did.

  “We couldn’t get in anywhere,” I explained through a mouthful of cereal.

  “So we just wandered around looking for a club until my feet were completely destroyed, and then we came home.”

  “Jane didn’t drag you off to some party?”

  “Nope.”

  “That’s very unlike her to end a night without vodka or sex,” Milo commented, and there was a lot of truth in that.

  That might have explained her desperation with Jack. He was just the last guy around, and she needed a fix. But then I thought of the text messages from her, and the way everyone else in the restaurant looked at him. Nope, there was definitely something up that I couldn’t grasp.

  “Life is full of surprises.” I had eaten all my cereal, so I started drinking the rainbow colored milk from the bowl and hoped that Milo would let the subject drop. He kept looking at me, though, and I knew that he knew that I left something out. “What are you up to today?”

  “This,” he shrugged. “You?”

  “Same.” I set my bowl down on the coffee table and settled back on the couch. “There’s a movie about a sex addict on Lifetime. Care to watch?”

  “Sure.” Milo got up from the kitchen chair that sat in front of the computer desk and planted himself at the end of the couch. I stretched out, resting my battered feet on his lap. He started to say something about the state of them, but then answered his own question by simply saying Jane. We both agreed that she was the source of all my life’s problems.

  We spent the rest of the afternoon camped out on the couch watching a Lifetime movie marathon. Mom got up, showered, and made a few derogatory remarks about how we should be making ourselves useful. Admittedly, I did very little, but Milo kept the house clean, so she didn’t really have anything to complain about. She left for work early, citing overtime, but I was never sure if I believed that or not. Sometimes, I think she just didn’t like being in the apartment. At this point, it had become more like Milo and I lived on our own.

  We even did all the grocery shopping, cooking, cleaning, laundry, etc. (Again, by

  “we,” I mostly mean him. But I did help. Sometimes.)

  Around nine, I finally decided that I ought to shower. My feet had recuperated enough where they could stand to be submerged in soap and water. When I went into my room to gather my clothes, I noticed my cell phone flashing on the table. I had ignored it all day because I had wanted to ignore Jane, but I knew that eventually I’d have to deal with her. Much to my surprise, buried underneath the mass of texts from her, I found a text message from Jack.

  The Matches tomorrow. First Ave. Seven o’clock. I’m buying. You in?

  He’d obviously been paying attention last night when I just casually mentioned liking the band The Matches, and he’d inexplicably invited me to a concert at First Ave, which was a rather historic little venue downtown, not that far off from where he found us actually. I couldn’t help but feel incredibly flattered. And I knew that if Milo heard about this, he’d be filled with nothing but an uneasy suspicion and do everything but forbid me from going. Despite all that, I couldn’t feel that way. Sure, he was too old for me, but we weren’t dating, and I didn’t really feel like that would become an issue.

  I sighed, then quickly responded with, That’s too much $. I already owe you too much.

  I expected a long wait for a response from him. Jack seemed way too fancy to be sitting with his phone doing nothing. He’d probably be busy doing…

  I don’t know what. But something far more exciting than sitting on his bed, preparing to shower. Instead, I got a reply within seconds.

  Oh be quiet. Money doesn’t matter. Are you in or not?

  Of course I was in. It was one of my favorite bands and I had a sinking suspicion that Jack might become one of my favorite people. Why would I say no? Besides that, it was Spring Break, so I didn’t even have school to contend with. Not that that would’ve stopped me even if there was school, but it would’ve caused Milo to give me more than an eyebrow raise.

  Yeah. But don’t get in the habit of buying me things. I messaged him back.

  Don’t get in the habit of protesting when I buy you things.;) Funny. I replied, hoping it sounded as droll as I wanted it to.

  I’ll pick you up at six-thirty. Sound good? That was cutting it awfully close to the time the show started. I knew we’d be able to get in, but I was rather short, and I hated ending up at the back of the crowd. But he was inviting me, so I’d play by his rules, even if that meant that I’d only see the shoulders of the person in front of me.

  Yeah. See you then.:) I closed my phone, deciding instantly that I couldn’t tell Jane about this. If hanging out with Jack became a regular thing, I knew I’d have to tell her. And Milo. But for now, I thought it’d be best if I kept it to myself. It was weird because I’m not a secretive person at all. I can’t keep anyone’s secrets, not even my own, so I couldn’t really explain what compelled me to keep this to myself.

  I spent the next twenty-four hours avoiding Jane and hedging Milo’s questions. He had a sixth sense when something was up with me, and it was nearly impossible to keep anything hidden from him. When I was getting ready to go out, he knew there was a guy involved. I don’t know how. All I had put on was a slim-fitting hoodie and a pair of jeans, so I don’t understand what that would give away.

  Every time I left him home alone at night, I felt terrible. Sure, he was fourteen, and at this point, we’d spent most of our lives alone, but it still never felt right to me. I knew he didn’t really want me to go because he didn’t know what I was up to, but he assured me that he’d be fine playing World of Warcraft on the computer and he’d barely even notice I was gone. This was probably true, but I still felt guilty when I stepped outside to wait for Jack.

  Jack arrived promptly at six-thirty, washing away any feelings of guilt or trepidation. Normally when I wait for someone to pick me up, I turn into a neurotic mess and I’m positive they’re going to stand me up. For some reason, I didn’t feel that way at
all. As soon as I saw him, I just felt at ease and vaguely contented. There was definitely something drawing me towards him, something I couldn’t explain.

  “Hey,” Jack smiled broadly at me when I hopped into his car.

  “Thanks,” I replied. “For all this.”

  “All what?” Jack looked confused as we pulled away from my house, speeding quickly down Washington towards the club that The Matches was playing at.

  “The ride, the tickets, saving my life,” I elaborated, and he laughed his amazing laugh again.

  “Oh, that,” he teased. “It’s really not a problem. Trust me.”

  “Just because it wasn’t a problem for you doesn’t me that I’m not grateful,” I pointed out.

  “Fair enough,” Jack allowed. “Well, you’re welcome then.”

  Parking downtown should’ve been impossible, but he managed to find a spot half a block away. It was obvious that he could walk much faster than I could, but he kept his pace to match mine, making me feel guilty for holding him up. It was almost seven when we reached the door, and I knew part of the problem was because I was slowing us down. I started to apologize, but he wouldn’t hear of it.

  By the time I saw the crowd of kids inside, I had already resigned myself to being unable to catch sight of the band onstage. Girls gaped at him, and the crowd almost seemed to part for Jack. He took my hand to weave us through the people that hadn’t really moved, and there was something very odd about his touch. His skin was neither hot nor cold. It just felt… temperature-less. Although his skin was tremendously soft, it reminded me of a lizard. The way they can’t regulate their temperature at all, so they’re always whatever temperature the room is or whatever’s touching them.

  We made our way up pretty close to the stage, but thanks to my height, it did me little good. When the band came out and the crowd rushed forward, I ended up with my head smooshed into the yellow tee shirt of the guy in front of me. Somehow, Jack managed to stand his ground, creating a little pocket of unmashedness. He immediately noticed my predicament, and rather deftly, he scooped me up and put me on his shoulders, so my legs were straddling his neck. Suddenly, I became very conscious of the fact that I weighed something over a hundred pounds (the exact amount is irrelevant) and that had to be heavy. Hell, fifty pounds sounded heavy when its sitting on your shoulders, but Jack had lifted me like I was a small child and dropped me easily onto his shoulders.

  “Let me know if I get too heavy,” I shouted near his ear to be heard over the music.

  Initially, I considered demanding that he put me down, but I was kind of excited to be able to actually see a concert for the first time. Plus, I had a feeling he wouldn’t comply, especially since he’d been able to lift me with such ease.

  “You won’t!” Jack yelled back, and I knew that was true.

  I could actually feel his muscles under my legs, and while they didn’t seem all that impressive, he was somehow incredibly strong. I thought back to the night we had met, and the way he had appeared to blur with speed. The hooligans chasing us had looked like they were being thrown in the air, but these had been guys that were much larger than Jack. At the time, I had assumed that my eyes were just playing tricks on me, but when Jack picked me up, it was as if I weighed nothing. Either I had greatly underestimated his strength, or there was something else going on here. Jack was very quickly become one giant enigma.

  Throughout the entire show (which was spectacular) he never faltered or even hinted at putting me down. When the crowd started to disperse, I was still on his shoulders, and I could feel his urge to carry me out. Instead, carefully, he lifted me up off his shoulders and set me on the ground.

  “Holy cow!” I exclaimed after he’d put me down. “You must eat like a double dose of Wheaties every day!”

  “What are you talking about?” Jack asked, looking at me like I was insane.

  “You’re super strong!” Without thinking, I reached out and grabbed his bicep, trying to feel some massive amounts of hidden muscle, but honestly, it felt pretty ordinary.

  “You’re just really light,” Jack shrugged. He started walking away, attempting to end that line of conversation, but I hurried after him.

  “What’s your angle?” I asked, trying to sound more playful than demanding.

  “Isosceles,” Jack quipped.

  “What?” If Milo had been there, he probably would’ve understood the reference, but geometry wasn’t my thing.

  “You asked me what my angle was, so I said isosceles,” Jack explained, looking down at me to make sure that he wasn’t losing me in the crowd. Most of the people had exited the venue by then, except for the disproportionate number of girls that seemed to linger around us. “It’s a type of a triangle with two equal sides. I suppose that’s not really an angle, and I would’ve said something like acute or obtuse, but I thought that would either sound like I was hitting on you or calling you stupid. I should’ve said oblique. Damn! That would’ve been good. I’m gonna remember that for next time.”

  “You’re the most cryptic person I’ve ever met,” I sighed. Jack laughed, and everyone around turned to look at him.

  We stepped outside into the cold night air, and I pulled my sweatshirt tighter to me, flipping the hood up over my head. Normally, the night air felt refreshing after being all sweaty and crammed with other people on the floor, but since I’d been on Jack’s shoulders, I hadn’t gotten hot at all. He didn’t look sweaty from fighting off the mosh pit, and the cold didn’t seem to effect him either. I was tempted to reach out and take his hand to see what the temperature felt like, but since I didn’t actually want to hold his hand for the sake of holding his hand, it felt too awkward.

  “So, did you have fun?” Jack asked me as we walked leisurely to his car.

  “I did,” I smiled at him, suddenly remembering that he was responsible for everything good that had happened tonight. I should show more gratitude and spend less time worrying about all the little things that seemed off with him.

  “Did you?”

  “Of course.”

  There was always this wonderful rush after a good concert, like adrenaline but less panicky. So when they let out, I was usually talking a mile a minute about the show and the people and just anything and everything. Tonight, though, I fell silent. There were millions of things running through my mind that I wanted to talk about, but very little had to do with the performance I had seen, so I kept my mouth shut. The last thing I wanted was to interrogate Jack into hating me.

  “I don’t mean to be cryptic,” Jack said at length. We were almost to his car, but he stopped walking and kept his gaze focused on some point straight ahead. His hands were shoved deep in the pocket of his Dickies shorts, and he sighed. “I don’t have an angle. Just…” He looked over at me, as if to make sure that I was still listening. I peered up at him from underneath my hood, and he smirked a little. “You’re cold. We should get in the car.”

  “No! Tell me what you were going to say first!” I demanded, sounding more forceful than I meant to, but Jack only laughed. But then he went back to staring straight ahead, and his expression went somber.

  “I don’t want you to think that I’m completely egotistical, cause I’m not.

  I’m just realistic.”

  “You’re talking about the way all the girls look at you?” I interjected. That was probably rude, but I was just too excited that he was going to explain it to me.

  “Yeah,” Jack said sheepishly. “Everyone kind of… reacts to me a certain way. And you don’t. It’s refreshing. So… that’s what I’m doing here. With you.”

  “Wait, wait, wait.” I waved my hands at him, feeling a massive twinge of disappointment. “What about the way other people react to you? Why do they do that?”

  “I don’t know.” Jack shifted slightly, and I knew he was lying. He knew exactly what was going on, but he wasn’t going to tell me.

  “Jack!” I pouted. “That’s not fair!”

  “See?” Jack smile
d. “This is refreshing. Do you know how many other people argue with me, about anything?”

  “If you think this is refreshing, just wait.” I tried to glower at him, but his smile was just too damn infectious.

  “Come on,” Jack started walking towards the car again. “You’re gonna freeze to death.”

  “Jack!” I protested, but hurried after him. “What is it? Is it something in the way you smell that I’m just not getting?” He got a look of total surprise and made a clicking sound with his tongue. “What?”

  “Well, yeah, that’s actually pretty much it,” Jack admitted. He unlocked his car and then walked around to the other side, still looking a little stunned. I hopped into the car and he continued, “It’s a pheromone, or something like that.”

  “So, wait. Is that a medical condition or something?”

  “Yeah, I guess.” Jack nodded, as if that answer was sufficient enough.

  “What kind of medical condition?” I pressed, totally oblivious to the fact that that kind of information was really personal. Really, I’m not usually this forward or nosy. There was just something about Jack that made me lose any sense of formality.

  “A rare one,” Jack replied flippantly and started the car.

  “Well, why don’t I react to it?” I felt terribly perplexed by this whole thing, and then I started to wonder if maybe there was something very wrong with me.

  Everyone reacted to him, except for me. Maybe I had a seriously botched sense of smell or a brain tumor or something equally horrible. “The pheromones or whatever?”

  “That is a very good question.” Jack pulled out of the parking lot, slipping easily into an opening in the traffic.

  “You don’t actually know why, do you?” I asked. “You don’t know why I’m different then everyone else.”

  “I do not,” Jack admitted, then looked over at me. “But look, Alice, I don’t want you to get hung up on this thing. It’s too hard to explain and… for our purposes, it doesn’t even matter at all.”