Bloodlust

by Alex Duval

  Jason gave the soda can in his hand a test shake. “I’d say there’s a good third left. With maybe only five percent of that being backwash. Want it?”

  “Ewww! But even if it was fifteen percent saliva, I’d have to say yes,” Sienna answered. She took the can and drained it in one long swallow. “Ahhhh. That should keep me going a little longer. True, Pepsi One has more caffeine, but what’s caffeine without sugar?”

  “Uh, I’m trying to come up with something clever here, but failing,” Jason told her. “Milk without the chocolate? Tonic without the vodka?”

  “Better stop now before you hurt yourself.” Sienna’s smile took the sting out of her words. “Did Dani have fun tonight?”

  “Looked like good times were being had last time I saw her,” Jason answered. “She was—”

  He broke off as Brad rushed through the open back door. “Somebody puked in the hot tub. I’ve gotta see if the pool guy will come out tonight to drain and refill. My mom will have a convulsion if she doesn’t get her morning soak. Something about pores and heat and toxins. Honestly, I don’t listen.”

  “So I guess this means you won’t be able to take me home anytime soon,” Sienna said. “I’m wiped.”

  “Are you sure you’re not just dehydrated?” Brad asked. “Want me to find you something to drink?”

  Sienna shook her head. “I just want to crash.”

  “I can take you home,” Jason offered. “I was about to head out anyway.”

  Sienna nodded gratefully.

  “Great, thanks,” Brad said, rushing off again.

  “I’ll go get Dani and her friend and we’re out of here,” Jason told Sienna. For a second he allowed himself to think about what it would be like if his sister and Kristy weren’t at the party. If he’d been handed this chance when he could have been alone with Sienna. There was something about being with a girl in a car—it was like the two of you were in your own private world.

  Which is why you should be glad to have Dani and Kristy along, Jason told himself. You definitely need chaperones. And what about that whole meeting-other-girls thing? What happened to that plan? He had to admit he hadn’t been all that aggressive about his other-fish-in-the-sea fishing. He hadn’t even asked for phone numbers from Jin or Cindy. Neither mermaid had been nearly as intriguing as Sienna. Which is why chaperones equaled good and safe. He might attempt something brainless, disloyal, and all things bad without someone to watch him.

  Jason headed for the pool room, but a familiar giggle stopped him in his tracks. Dani was in the living room, on the big burgundy sofa. He could hear her laughing, but the back of the sofa came up too high for him to see her. A brief stab of worry went through him; was she drunk? Was she with a guy? Van Dyke? He stepped around the couch and stopped in surprise. His sister was practically convulsed with laughter, all trace of the pouty, self-pitying Dani gone. Kristy sat next to her, also laughing her butt off.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked, going over to them.

  Danielle took one look at his face and laughed even harder. She looked a little pale, and her gray eyes were kind of spacey. “I don’t know,” she answered, her giggles finally subsiding slightly. “I’m just happy.”

  “Oh.” Jason wasn’t sure what to say to that. He settled for, “So you had a good time?”

  Kristy snorted, which got Dani laughing again. Kristy joined in.

  “O-kay,” Jason said. “You two have obviously had enough to drink.”

  “I’m not drunk,” Dani protested, slurring her words. “I only had one beer.”

  “Yeah, I’m not drunk. I mean, she’s not drunk,” Kristy agreed. She sat back on the couch and gazed at Jason with a huge grin on her face.

  “Need some help?” Sienna asked, coming up from behind him.

  “I’ve got two drunk girls who say they’re not drunk,” Jason told her. “Any help at all would be appreciated.”

  She smiled at him, then reached out her hands toward Dani. “Up,” she ordered cheerfully. Dani giggled and grabbed her hands. Sienna hauled her to her feet and steered her over to Jason. Then she pulled Kristy up and led her toward the front door, holding on to her arm.

  Jason kept hold of Dani, too. Not that she seemed likely to fall over—he just got the feeling she might wander off toward something funny or pretty or shiny if she got the chance. If he didn’t know her better, he’d think she was stoned.

  He and Sienna got both girls outside and into the tiny backseat of the VW. Sienna took the passenger seat, and Jason climbed in beside her. Eyes on the road, he told himself as he pulled out of the driveway. The last thing he should be doing was looking at Sienna’s long legs stretched out next to him. Remember, there are other people in the car.

  Except, after he dropped off one of his chaperones—Kristy—the other one fell into a nothing-

  will-wake-me sleep in the backseat. Dani, usually a night owl, was snoring before Kristy even reached her front door—which left Jason and Sienna unsupervised in the front.

  Just keep your hands on the wheel and your mind on the road, Jason instructed himself firmly.

  “What are you thinking about?” Sienna asked, ruining the plan.

  He couldn’t exactly tell her the truth. But what was he supposed to say? “Dominic,” he said, surprising himself.

  “Dominic?” Sienna repeated. “Why?”

  “He was really strong,” Jason replied thoughtfully. “Like, freakishly strong.”

  Sienna leaned her head back against the headrest and gazed at him with a tired smile. “Dominic was just drunk,” she assured him. “Some people have anger issues that come out when they drink.”

  Yeah, but they don’t usually get stronger, Jason thought.

  Sienna sighed and turned to look out the window.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Mmm,” she murmured. “Just tired.”

  He took the hint. She didn’t feel like talking. Which made it a tiny bit easier to concentrate on the road—until he pulled into Sienna’s driveway.

  Her house wasn’t in the Spanish mission style, like a lot of the places in Malibu. It was spare and clean, with no ornamentation, almost like something carved out of one piece of stone. It managed to distract him from Sienna’s presence for, precisely, no time at all.

  “Thanks for the ride,” she said, putting her hand on the door handle.

  “Sure,” Jason replied. Better to say too little than too much.

  “And sorry if I was sort of a bitch to you before—down on the beach, after the fight. It’s just that seeing you getting mauled by Dominic…” Sienna’s voice trailed off.

  “I know,” Jason said thoughtfully. “You were scared for me.”

  She didn’t answer. Instead, she leaned toward Jason and kissed him on the mouth.

  Then she pulled away and jumped out of the car before he could respond. Jason was left staring after her as she ran up to the house, his whole body tingling from that one electric moment of contact.

  Why the hell did she do that? he asked himself. And why the hell did she stop?

  Five

  “Get up, Dani,” Jason called the next morning. He winced as he lifted his hand to knock on her door. Somehow Dominic had managed to bruise his arm as well as his throat during the fight the night before.

  No response.

  Jason opened the door and stepped into Dani’s room, taking in the totally still form huddled beneath the duvet. “Dani!” he said, more loudly.

  He still didn’t get a response, so he reverted to his eight-year-old sibling warfare tactics. He leaned over his sister and flicked her ear. “Danielle! Now!”

  She ignored him, pulling the covers all the way over her head. “Go away,” she muttered. “Do not come back until…ever!”

  “Mom is making pancakes,” he told her. “You love them. You have to get up and eat them.”

  “I’m not hungry,” his sister said. “I just need to sleep.”

  “Fine. But don’t come crying to me if
Mom and Dad don’t let you go to any more parties anytime soon,” Jason declared, and turned toward the door, waiting for the reaction.

  “What do you mean?” Danielle demanded, sitting up slowly, worried.

  “I mean that not coming downstairs for your favorite breakfast is like wearing a sign that says, ‘Hello, my name is Dani. I have a hangover and can’t be trusted to behave responsibly until I’m at least eighteen,’” he explained.

  “But I hardly even drank last night,” Danielle protested. She looked down at herself and frowned. “Why am I still wearing these clothes?”

  “That is not the question of someone who barely drank,” Jason told her. “And you’re still wearing those clothes because I had to haul you up here and throw you into bed last night. You passed out in the car.”

  “Not possible,” Danielle said, yawning.

  “And yet true,” Jason answered. “I hope Van Dyke didn’t have anything to do with your beverage intake or I’m going to have to kick his ass.”

  “Van Dyke?” Danielle crawled out of bed and gave a catlike stretch.

  “Michael. You know, the guy you were playing pool with. We’re on the swim team together.”

  “Oh.” Dani frowned, clearly searching her memory without success. “Yeah. Him. He was, uh, cute.”

  Absurd. She obviously had no idea who he was talking about. “Do you remember anything about the party?” Jason asked.

  “Damn straight.” A big smile broke across his sister’s face. “I remember it was the best night of my young life!”

  “Dani actually said it was the best night of her life!” Jason told Adam as they slid their trays down the cafeteria food line at lunch on Monday. “I’ve been hearing stuff like that from people all morning.”

  “People at DeVere do love the parties,” Adam answered. “And that one was especially wild. Not that I’ve gone to many of them before. I mean, I go to lots of parties—and not just ones with paper hats and Pin the Tail on the Donkey, either, thank you—but I don’t get asked to many soirées taking place behind The Gates.” He added a salad to his growing collection of food. “By the way, thanks for, uh, inviting me.”

  Jason laughed. “Thanks for, uh, letting me know that I did before you showed up and all.” He grabbed a pomegranate-blueberry juice. He felt the need for some antioxidants before swim practice. The fight at the party had been seriously debilitating. His neck still hurt every time he turned his head. He’d actually had to find a turtleneck to wear yesterday to hide the bruises from his mom so she wouldn’t freak.

  “I can see why you, a near decent-party virgin, thought it a ten on the grand scale,” Jason said, grabbing a turkey sandwich. “But I still don’t know why everyone else is acting like it was Mardi Gras and the Super Bowl all rolled into one.”

  “Hey, I got to hang with Carrie Smith. A girl who is hot and actually attainable. Unlike you, who was busy being friends with Sienna and Belle.” Adam led the way over to the cashier. “Not to mention your lame showing with the two babes you actually managed to dance with. No wonder you didn’t think the party rocked the Casbah. You were basically there as a eunuch.”

  “Rocked the Casbah?” Jason repeated.

  “You have a problem with The Clash? They’re on the Royal Tenenbaums soundtrack, and nobody knows music like Wes Anderson.” Jason’s face must have shown he had no idea what Adam was talking about, because Adam shook his head sadly. “Wes Anderson, pretty passable director of The Royal Tenenbaums,” he explained.

  “Never heard of him,” Jason said. “However, I believe that The Clash—and I only know this because of the younger sister factor—was also on the soundtrack for What a Girl Wants.”

  Adam stumbled backward, a hand on his heart. “I’m not sure that our budding friendship is going to survive this conversation,” he said, mock-hurt. “At the very least, I’m taking you to the Blockbuster in the mall right after school. It’s no Mondo Video A-Go-Go—the best video store in L.A., by the way, and a true videophile’s paradise—but with your level of ignorance, it’ll do. We’ll start with a few Wes creations, then move on to David Fincher.”

  “Sounds cool,” Jason said. He was always up for watching new movies, not that he had the slightest idea who their directors were—and not that he cared. Adam headed over to the usual table. Luke Archer had already staked out his regular seat and was barricaded behind a book.

  “So let’s talk about Carrie. She looked somewhat into you, my friend,” Jason said. “Clearly you were managing to keep your true self hidden.”

  “She was grooving on the unadulterated Adam,” his friend protested. “She even helped me pro and con the soundtrack picks for my movie. Unlike you, she has an appreciation for the art that is film.”

  “Again, I can see why you’re giving the party the big two thumbs up—that’s the movie geek term, right? And I can even see why Dani was blown away by it.” Jason took a bite of his sandwich. “But I was expecting something more. And I’d definitely have thought that your average DeVere High senior would need more than what I saw to label a night ‘wild.’”

  “Wait. You didn’t find the true party, did you?” Adam leaned in and lowered his voice. “Dude, you gotta go through the passage behind the bookcase and take the staircase down to the dungeon. That’s where the real depravity takes place. The absinthe fountain, the orgy—”

  “You’re an ass,” Jason muttered.

  “But I had you going for a second. Admit it,” Adam said.

  “Ass,” Jason repeated, smiling. But he couldn’t help feeling that he had missed something at the party. Not a secret room, but something…

  Jason winced as he passed a long mirror on his way out of the locker room for swim practice after school. His neck was covered with splotches of blue-black. And his arm, where Dominic had grabbed him, had an impressive dark brown bruise over the bicep.

  “Christ!” Van Dyke mumbled when Jason headed out to the pool.

  “I second that,” Harberts said from his seat in the bleachers. He took a pull on his POWERade.

  Jason suspected it would take Harberts more than a little carb boost to handle swimming—he looked awful. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his skin was waxy and pale.

  Harberts must have found something more entertaining than the Xbox at the party, Jason thought. He’d had at least a day and a half to recover. That should have been plenty of time to recoup from most forms of fun. But the guy still looked exhausted, just like Dani had this morning.

  Kyle Priesmeyer, one of the divers, dropped down next to Harberts. He was clearly in a similar state. His skin looked ashy instead of its usual warm brown and he kept yawning. Jason thought he’d been half of one of the couples he had seen rolling around on the Moreaus’ sofa. “Can I have a drink?” Kyle asked, nodding toward Harberts’ POWERade.

  “Sorry, man. I need it more,” Harberts replied, and drained the bottle.

  Kyle rubbed his shaved head with his fingers. “I can’t wake up today. And I slept half of yesterday!”

  “I think I’m going to have to start kicking off my parties on Friday afternoons,” Brad called as he headed over to the group. “You ladies clearly need a little more convalescence time.”

  “Ha-ha,” Harberts muttered. Kyle yawned again.

  “You probably need some convalescing yourself after that….” Jason let his words trail off. He’d expected to see at least a few bruises on Brad from the fight. Dominic had gotten in some solid hits before Brad subdued him. But Brad looked more like a swimmer on one of Dani’s beloved WB shows. There wasn’t a bruise or a scratch on him. He stood in front of the bleachers, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. Clearly he didn’t need a POWERade.

  “What are you guys waiting for, an e-vite?” the coach yelled as he strode out of the locker room. “Pool. Laps. You don’t need me to be telling you this.”

  Jason was in the pool three seconds later. The coolness and buoyancy of the water soothed his body aches. Thankfully Monday
practice consisted mostly of laps of all the different strokes—he didn’t feel up to much hardcore relay action today. And, judging from Harberts’ slow-ass laps, neither did he.

  But with each different stroke, Jason loosened up different muscles, and by the time Coach Middleton brought them over to do a couple of relays, he felt at least marginally human again. He got himself in position opposite Brad. The coach had kept him in the Moreau, Harberts, Van Dyke lineup.

  Brad hurled himself off the block with his usual blast of speed. If he was feeling any pain, Jason couldn’t see it in the smooth motions of his arms and legs. Jason, on the other hand, still felt his muscles protest with every movement. But he refused to let it slow him down. One fight should not make me this sore. He punched the sensor in the wall hard when he reached it and saw that he’d managed a fairly decent time.

  He could tell from the splash he heard as he swung himself out of the pool that Harberts had made a sloppy start. He turned to watch Van Dyke and saw every muscle in his body tense as he waited for Harberts to reach him. “Come on!” he shouted, agitated.

  But it was as if Harberts’ limbs were weighted with lead. He was trying, but the guy was just too tired to swim as fast as usual. Jason’s eyes moved to the huge clock mounted on the far wall and watched the seconds click away. Their time was going to be crap.

  When Harberts punched the sensor, Van Dyke threw up his hands in annoyance. “What’s the point of me even getting in the pool?” he yelled at Harberts. “We’re past our slowest time!”

  “Sorry, man, I’m just beat,” Harberts replied.

  “Dude, he’s got after-party. Cut him some slack,” Brad put in, keeping his voice low. Jason figured Brad didn’t want the coach to hear.

  “Well, maybe we should think about exactly who gets invited to our parties,” Van Dyke shot back. He glared at Brad as if it were all his fault.

  “Look, I’ll get to sleep early tonight and—,” Harberts began.

  “I don’t want to hear it.” Van Dyke grabbed a towel, wrapped it around his shoulders, and stalked back to the locker room.