My Blood Approves mba-1

by Amanda Hocking

  “Oh, she does not.”

  “What do you actually think of her?” I wondered aloud. It was completely unheard of that a guy would prefer my company over Jane’s.

  “I don’t,” Jack replied.

  “No, really,” I persisted. Jane was the kind of girl that everyone thought about, whether they liked it or not. Until I had met Jack, she was the most attention grabbing person I’d ever known.

  “I’m serious,” Jack shrugged. “After she left you to die in that parking garage, I paid very little attention to her.”

  “I wasn’t going to die,” I said unconvincingly, and quickly decided to change the subject. “Why don’t you have a girlfriend? The ladies obviously like you.”

  “That’s actually part of the reason why. Everyone likes me without ever knowing me. It makes it hard to have a real relationship with somebody.”

  “So… what’s the other part?” I asked, and he didn’t answer. “You’re not going to tell me.”

  “I think there’s a midnight show of Rocky Horror Picture Show in Lakeville,” Jack announced randomly. “Are you up for it?”

  “Sure.” The dashboard clock claimed it was 11:59 and we were much further than a minute away from Lakeville, but there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that we would make it in time. With Jack, somehow everything became possible.

  I glanced out the window, watching the car glide through traffic. “So, why didn’t you drive your car tonight?”

  “That’s not really my car, either.” He didn’t really answer my question, but I was starting to get used to that. “It’s my sister Mae’s.” I noticed that he called her his sister, not his sister-in-law, and I wondered if that was simply an oversight. His insistence on being so mysterious was making me overanalyze everything.

  “Do you even own a car?”

  “Yeah, a jeep. I just haven’t felt like driving it lately.” Then he flashed a sly smile and looked over at me. “Besides, this is so much faster.”

  “That doesn’t seem fair at all,” I grumbled after riding in silence for a minute. My mind had gone been to trying to figure out all the things he wouldn’t tell me. “You won’t tell me anything about yourself.”

  “Hey, I’ll tell you almost anything about me.” He kept his tone light, but he looked a little wounded. For the first time, I realized that he really not telling me was bothering him just as much as it was me. “My favorite color is chartreuse. I love the Ramones and the Cure. My bedroom walls are painted dark blue. I had my first kiss when I was fourteen while listening to ‘Rock Lobster’ cause she really, really liked B-52’s. I should’ve taken that as warning sign that it would never work, but I was awfully young and stupid.”

  “Chartreuse?” I questioned, skipping over the remainder of his confession.

  “I don’t even know what it is.”

  “It’s sorta like a bright olive,” Jack explained. “It’s the color most visible to the human eye because of where it sits in the light spectrum.”

  “You’re incredibly random.” We turned into the parking lot of the multiplex, and I realized he had managed to avoid really telling me anything.

  When he pulled into park, I looked at him seriously. “So why can’t you tell me things?”

  “Why do you think?” Jack asked, not unkindly.

  “Witness protection.” It was an idea I had actually considered but quickly crossed off because it didn’t really explain anything. Besides, if he was under cover, then they were doing a very, very bad job since everyone always seemed to be looking at him. And just as I suspected, Jack laughed.

  “Okay, that’s not it.” Still smiling and shaking his head, he hopped out of the car, and I quickly followed him.

  “Hey, does that mean you’ll actually tell me if I guess right?” The movie had probably already started, so Jack was walking rather fast towards the theater, and I chased after him as swiftly as my short legs would carry me.

  “I don’t see why not,” Jack said, and that perplexed me even further.

  “If I can guess it then why can’t you just come right out and tell me?” I asked skeptically.

  “It’s just the way it is.” He opened the big glass doors of the theater for me, and I walked inside, furrowing my brow.

  When he went up to the cashier to buy tickets, I started rummaging in my pockets for my own money, but he just waved me off and paid for my ticket. If I hadn’t been so preoccupied by this new development, I probably would’ve protested further.

  “So, are you Rumpelstiltskin?” I asked him, leaning up against the counter as he claimed our tickets.

  He laughed loudly, and the cashier blushed at the sound. He was completely oblivious to it, and I hoped that I would hurry up and feel the same way. I hadn’t really staked a claim on him, but it was still irritating to constantly notice girls drooling all over him, especially when I was visibly with him.

  “That’s awesome!” He handed me my ticket, and while I did feel overly happy about his very minor compliment, I only let the frustration show on my face. He just chuckled some more and walked to the theater, this time slowing enough so I could keep up with him. “Rumpelstiltskin. That’s really awesome.

  I’m gonna tell Ezra that.”

  “Why? Are you guys like a family of goblins or something?”

  Jack laughed, shaking his head, and then pushed open the door to the movie before I could question him about what exactly was so awesome.

  The movie had already started playing but just the very beginning. Lots of people were dressed up in costumes from the movie and throwing popcorn at the screen, so for once nobody noticed us sneaking into the back row.

  Rocky Horror Picture Show was a pretty good movie and I did rather enjoy it, but I was starting to think that either Jack had ADD or he had being evasive down to an art form. Deciding to make the best of the situation, I followed suit and watched the movie. Jack was a borderline fanatic. He hadn’t dressed up in a black corset or anything like that, but he stared at the screen intently and shouted right along with all the lines. When “The Time Warp” came on, I thought he might get up and dance, and he probably would’ve had there been enough room in the aisle.

  Towards then end of the movie, I had settled back in my seat, and even his enthusiasm had faded a bit. My arm casually brushed against his, and I felt struck by his odd skin temperature again. His skin was soft and warm, but it felt more like touching fabric than it did like touching a person. It was such an odd sensation that I felt like I had to get more of it. I pushed my arm over on the shared arm rest, very deliberately pressing my bare skin against his. The back of his hand felt impossibly soft. He hadn’t pulled his arm away, but I felt his gaze so I looked up at him, finding a very perplexed expression on his face.

  “Are you trying to hold my hand?” Jack asked, as if the idea were completely alien.

  I was not trying to hold his hand, but I didn’t appreciate the way it seemed so offensive to him. What would be wrong with that? After all, this essentially was a date, whether he called it that or not. So why would it be so unthinkable that we’d hold hands?

  “What if I am?” I stuck out my chin, ready to hold my ground and find out what would be so bad about hitting on me. Without hesitation, Jack called my bluff and took my hand in his. It definitely felt like I was holding hands with doll or something other than another person, but then it started to warm up, his skin heating up unnaturally, and I pulled my hand from his. “Okay. That’s just weird.”

  In response, he just shrugged, apparently deciding against explaining his abrupt temperature change.

  We watched the rest of the movie in silence (or at least I did — he continued shouting lines and singing). By the time it ended, I had started yawning, and I knew that I’d have to call it a night pretty soon. Not that I wanted to. Bizarre handholding and classified information aside, I really enjoyed spending time with Jack and I didn’t want it to stop. Not ever.

  The car ride home was mostly filled with Jack’s excited
chatter about the movie. He explained all the reasons it was such a masterpiece, and had an endless stream of compliments about Tim Curry. I added things now and again, but it was mostly one-sided. There was something very thrilling about seeing Jack so excited. He became very animated and his eyes almost seemed to glow.

  “I hope you had fun tonight,” Jack said when he pulled up in front of my place.

  “I did,” I nodded. Only he could make frustration so much fun. “So… we’ll hang out again?”

  “Of course,” he smiled, then held out his hand towards me. “Let me see your phone.”

  “Why?” I asked, but I was already pulling it out of my pocket and handing it to him.

  “One second.” Taking my phone, he started scrolling through it and doing things that I couldn’t see from my angle. A minute later, he handed my phone back to me, looking rather mischievous.

  “What’d you do?” I flipped it open and started looking through it, trying to see what he could’ve done.

  “You’ll see,” he smiled.

  “Oh, you are trouble.” Shaking my head, I shoved my phone back in my pocket, and he laughed.

  “You have no idea.”

  When I got out of the car, he was still laughing. I watched him speed off, moving impossibly fast, and then dashed upstairs to my house. Being with him was strangely exhilarating, but it also ended up a little tiring. Even when he wasn’t moving, he had so much energy about him, and it seemed to take so much energy just being around him. Not that I didn’t enjoy every minute of it, but it really made me look forward to curling up in my bed.

  I’d barely made it inside the apartment when I saw Milo looking sheepishly at me, and I knew there was trouble afoot. It was way past his bedtime, and he was leaning against the kitchen counter all decked out in his pajamas. I was about to ask what was going on when I heard the rather shrill voice of my mother, and looked over to see her sitting in the tattered easy chair in the living room.

  “Glad to see you finally made it home,” Mom said icily. Her graying hair looked like a frayed mess spreading out from her bun and her eyes were unusually large, a feature that both Milo and I had inherited, making us all look much younger than we were. Her voice, which could be rather soothing when she wanted it to be, sounded like she had been chain-smoking for forty years, which wasn’t that far from the truth. As it was, she was lighting another cigarette as she cast a cold glance at me.

  “Why aren’t you at work?” I asked dumbly.

  “They had a bomb threat to the building so they shut it down for the night,” Mom explained harshly. “They’re diverting all the calls to Edina’s station.”

  “Oh.” I stood awkwardly in between the kitchen and the living room, waiting for someone to tell me what was going on.

  “What were you doing out so late?” Her voice lilted at the end, like she was taunting me.

  “I don’t have school, and I don’t have a curfew,” I answered cautiously.

  In theory, I might’ve had a curfew, but we’d never even talked about it and she always worked nights. On weeknights, I usually tried to be in by midnight, but that was mostly because Milo would freak out on me and I’d be too tired to get up for school. The only thing Mom really kept track of was whether or not we went to school and were passing all our classes. As long as I did that, everything else seemed fine with her.

  “So, you weren’t out with a guy?” Mom asked pointedly, and I saw Milo looking incredibly ashamed out of the corner of my eye.

  “Well, yeah, I was.” I drew my shoulders back a little bit, telling myself that I hadn’t done anything. There was nothing for me to get in trouble for, no matter what my mother’s angry glare was saying. “Is that a problem?”

  “Who is he?” She flicked an ash off the arm of the chair, looking down instead of at me.

  “His name is Jack.” I shifted uneasily, and stole a glance at Milo. Suddenly, I felt very sorry for him. I had no idea how long he had been forced to stand here with my mother, and I couldn’t imagine the kind of interrogation she had put him through.

  Let me be clear: she wasn’t a bad mother. She was just a tired, lonely woman that worked seventy hours a week and hardly ever saw her kids. There was very little left for her except to try and convince us not to make the same mistakes she did, and the only way she knew how to do that was to be rather vicious.

  “I see.” Abruptly, my mother put her cigarette out and exhaled deeply.

  When she spoke again, her voice was sweet, much too sweet, and my skin wanted to crawl. “I think I should meet this boy.”

  “How? When? You work all the time.”

  “Well, he seems to be a night owl, much like yourself.” She looked up at me, batting her eyes exaggeratedly. “I’m sure that you could find a time within the next two days.”

  A million different arguments ran through my head. The most obvious being that I wasn’t having sex or even dating Jack, but somehow, I thought that would make things worse. Trying to explain why someone in his situation would want to be friends with me sounded even harder than explaining why he would want to date me. Besides, I actually didn’t want to set her off further. I just nodded instead.

  “Okay. I’ll figure it out.”

  “You better.” She sounded a little surprised that I had complied so easily, and I wondered if I spent a lot of my time arguing with her just for the sake of arguing with her. I was probably a very bad daughter. Maybe even a very bad person. “And if I decide that I don’t want you to see this boy anymore, then that’s it. Do you understand?”

  “Completely,” I nodded again. Of course I would see him anyway, but that wasn’t something I would tell her.

  “Good.” Mom got up, grabbing her purse off of the table. She was apparently satisfied with the conversation, and she hadn’t even really screamed at me. It was actually a pretty good talk, as far as our talks go. “I’m going to go the casino now. I’ll see you sometime tomorrow.”

  “Okay,” I replied lamely.

  Mom brushed past me on her way to the door, smelling thickly of cigarettes and cheap brandy, but she paused at the door, turning slightly towards me. “I am glad that you’re home safe.”

  “Thanks,” I said, unsure of how else to respond. Then she nodded once and walked out the door.

  Milo apologized as soon as she left, but I assured him he had nothing to apologize for. He was always looking out for my best interest, and I knew that.

  Besides, I was too tired to really worry about anything else. I didn’t even bother changing out of my clothes before flopping back in my bed.

  I decided to just bite the bullet and text Jack to ask if he could meet my mother. When he messaged me back a few seconds later, I realized what exactly he’d done with my phone. He had ordered the song “Time Warp” and put it as his ringtone, so when I got a text message or phone call from him, that’s the song I would hear. Thankfully, he agreed to come over for supper the next night at 8 pm sharp, and I tried not to think about how terrifying that prospect was.

  First thing when I got up, I briefed Milo on Jack’s arrival, but Mom was still asleep. For some reason, Milo had been gifted with everything domestic, meaning he was the cook in the family. I let him make supper, but scurried about trying to help him and straighten up the apartment. We actually had a really nice apartment; it was just very small. It was important to me that we impressed Jack with where we lived, and I didn’t know why. I didn’t know why I felt anything I did about him, but I pushed that out of my mind. That wasn’t tonight’s problem.

  Then the unthinkable happened. Jack arrived early.

  “Jack,” I said breathlessly when I opened the door. He had found my apartment without me telling him the number, but I couldn’t mention that in front of Milo. He’d already think Jack was creepy enough without adding anything.

  “Hi,” Jack beamed at me. He wore a simple tee shirt with Dickies, but it was the first time I’d seen him in pants. I suspected that this was his attempt at dressing u
p, and it made me smile.

  “You’re early,” I told him. I held the door open, but I hadn’t let him inside yet, so he stood in the hallway, giving me an odd look. Milo had been behind me in the kitchen, noisily preparing something, but he hadn’t made a sound since we’d heard the knock at the door.

  “Is that a bad thing?” Jack asked.

  “No, not really,” I admitted, and finally took a step back so he could come inside. He smiled at my brother and his eyes quickly scanned the apartment.

  “My mom’s just not awake yet.”

  “Oh.” He glanced at the clock on the wall, noting that it was after seven.

  “When does she get up?”

  “I’ll go get her now,” Milo offered, wiping his hands on his jeans and stepping away from a pan.

  “Oh, sorry,” I fumbled, realizing that I hadn’t introduced them. “Jack, this is my brother Milo. Milo, this my friend Jack.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Milo did a little half wave/half nod combo, then darted off to get my mom.

  “I think I make him nervous,” Jack told me quietly.

  “Everyone makes him nervous,” I reassured him.

  “Hmm.” We were standing rather awkwardly in the kitchen, although I did feel slightly better now that he was around. He had a kind of calming effect on me, but I didn’t know if that was good or bad. My mother was squawking things rather loudly at Milo, so I decided to make conversation to drown at the sound of her.

  “So, are you hungry?” I gestured to the pans of some kind of Italian creation Milo had been making on the stove. “Milo’s making something delicious. He’s a really good cook.”

  “Actually, I just ate.” Jack smiled sheepishly and put his hand on his stomach. “Sorry. I figured that since we were meeting so late, you’d probably already have eaten. And Mae insisted on feeding me.”

  “Oh, that’s okay.” But suddenly I felt more nervous. In truth, I wasn’t that hungry and I could really care less if he ate or not. It was just that without the distraction of eating, a conversation with my mother would be much less pleasant. Then a tantalizing idea occurred to me. Maybe we could just turn this into more of a meet-and-greet kind of thing, where Jack could say hello to my mother and then just sweep me away. “So… do you wanna go someplace or something?”