I quickly turned my anger into quiet determination (didn’t want to blow anything up). An idea came to me. Brian might be able to keep me from talking to him, but I’d be damned if he’d keep me from buying him a Christmas present. I’d just leave it by his door sometime when he wasn’t home. I could be a good friend and spite him all at the same time.
With my spirits somewhat restored, I went to the counter to get a sales guy to get the jersey down for me. The sales guy was short and blond, so not my type, but he seemed to think otherwise. He wasted an overly friendly smile on me as he tried to maintain eye contact. I am not a casual flirter by any means. Not only do I suck at it, it makes me horribly uncomfortable.
I pointed to the jersey I wanted and grunted something unintelligible about not being able to reach it.
Taking my discomfort for nervousness, the sales guy smiled even wider. “I wouldn’t expect you to be able to reach it. It’s only a good ten feet out of your reach.”
He’d meant the comment to be cute, but I scowled at him in reply. An awkward silence ensued until he finally went to retrieve my jersey. While the sales guy was busy I picked out a Manchester United jersey for Max. The guy returned, obviously not trying to flirt anymore. He silently rung me up and handed me my purchases. If I were Allison, I would have flirted back and procured a discount. But I wasn’t Allison, and I didn’t need no stinkin’ discounts.
I took my bag and turned on my heel to leave, checking my receipt before putting it in the bag. Blondie had written his phone number on it. I had to give him points for persistence.
I left the store, not looking back, and turned my thoughts to more pressing matters. The only person left for me to buy for was Jason, and I had no idea what to get him. I started walking down the mall hallway, mind preoccupied with trying to come up with something Jason would like.
As my mind was shuffling through gift options, someone walked up behind me and grabbed my wrist. I turned, thinking it was Jason, and looked up into bright green eyes the exact color of my own. I dropped my shopping bags in surprise, causing a group of mall patrons to split up and give me a wide berth. I back looked up from my fallen bags to take in the rest of the stranger that still had a hold of my wrist. He was tall, probably about 6’3”, and had straight blond hair, artfully swept back off his face to almost reach his shoulders. He was dressed in a pale green, expensive looking sweater that looked bland in comparison to his eyes, along with charcoal gray slacks.
My mouth went dry, he looked . . . like me. From his narrow nose, to his somewhat full lips that looked almost out of place on his angular face, he was the male version of me.
He smiled, still holding my wrist. “It’s very good to see you Alexondra.”
I didn’t return the smile. “Unfortunately I can’t say the same.”
His smile didn’t falter, not one single inch. “Now, is that any way to speak to your father?”
My heart raced. He’d confirmed what I’d already figured out. I began to shake with the effort to contain the sudden anger that washed over me. I spoke slowly through gritted teeth, “Let . . go . . of . . me.”
He didn’t. I began to tremble almost violently. All of the pain and anger I had blocked out over the years came flooding back. He’d abandoned me. My mom had never even told me his name.
As if reading my mind, he said, “I’m going to assume that you would rather not call me dad, so you may call me Alexondre.’
Well, now I knew where I got my name, though I couldn’t imagine why my mom would want to name me after someone that had abandoned her too. I took a deep breath. “Why are you here?”
“You’re almost seventeen. I’m here to help you come into your powers . . . unless you already have?”
I smiled bitterly. “Yeah, you’re a little late on that one. Figured it all out on my own.”
He furrowed his brow as if he actually felt sorry about being late. “How late am I?”
I rolled my eyes in irritation. “Seventeen years.”
“I meant how late am I on the powers? Speaking of which, stop trying to burn me. It won’t work.”
My eyes widened in surprise. I knew I was angry enough for it, but I didn’t realize that I was trying to burn him . . . not that I felt bad for trying.
“It’s that bad?” he asked, referring to my lack of control.
“Well what did you expect?” I snapped. “I didn’t even know I was different until a werewolf smelled me. I had to figure out what I could do by burning one of my friends!”
A couple walking by with a small child between them veered further away from me as they passed, sandwiching themselves closer to the child. The woman looked at me like I was crazy. Of course, I was shouting nonsense in the middle of a crowded mall, so maybe she was right.
Out of nowhere, Jason suddenly appeared beside me and grabbed Alexondre’s wrist, since Alexondre was still gripping mine. Alexondre gave Jason such a look that I was surprised Jason didn’t just turn into stone on the spot.
Alexondre’s grip on my wrist was as strong as ever. He turned his gaze back to me. “Do you know this vampire?”
I raised my eyebrows and nodded in a ‘well duh’ gesture.
Alexondre slowly let go of my wrist as Jason slowly let go of his. They stood staring at each other, both of them trying to loom, though they were nearly the same height, so neither had much success.
Without looking at me, Alexondre spoke, “We need to talk Alexondra. You may have survived the beginnings of your powers on your own, but you’ll need a teacher.”
“Yes I do,” I spoke crisply, “but it’s not gonna be you.”
I grabbed Jason’s arm with one hand and gathered my bags with the other, then made a beeline for the door. Alexondre watched us go impassively, but didn’t follow.
As soon as we were both buckled into Jason’s car, he turned to me. “He’s right.”
“What?” I asked skeptically.
Jason avoided my gaze. “You need a teacher.”
I kept my eyes looking steadily out the front window. “Not him.”
“But . . . “
“Not him.”
Jason let it drop. Like I said, smart man.
Chapter Four
We spent the ride home in silence. I didn’t want Jason to think I was mad at him, but my mind was spinning too much for me to even think about keeping up a conversation. I hadn’t expected to ever hear from my dad, let alone run into him at the mall. But there he was, in the flesh . . . or whatever he was made of.
When we got home I stormed into my house, marching straight up to my bedroom. Jason walked in a few seconds behind me, to find me sitting on my bed, already sinking into a fugue. He silently approached and sat beside me, then wrapped his arm around my lower back.
His comfort made my emotions fade from anger to hurt confusion. I looked down at my hands, not wanting to meet Jason’s eyes. “She named me after him.”
“His name is Alexondra?” Jason asked quizzically.
I shook my head and let out an abrupt laugh that was more of a sob. I grabbed Jason’s hand where it was resting on the side of my waist and pulled it farther forward to encircle my stomach, and bring him closer to me. “Alexondre. His name’s Alexondre, but it’s close enough.”
Jason kissed me lightly on the cheek, waiting for me to continue speaking. When I didn’t, he said, “Please just consider it.”
Sigh. Back to the subject of Alexondre being my teacher. I nodded slowly, knowing that he was right. “I’ll try.” Yeah, I’d try as hard as I tried in math class. Did I mention that I’m failing?
He took me at my word, or else he was simply letting the subject drop. “What time are you supposed to be at Lucy’s?”
I looked at my Jack Skellington wall clock. His face was the face of the clock, and he had a little plastic body that swung back and forth in place of a pendulum. It was already close to 3:15. “Like fifteen minutes ago.”
Jason gave me a final squeeze. “I’ll drive you.”<
br />
We went back downstairs to gather all my bags from where I had thrown them on the floor on my way in. After taking everything back up to my room, Jason drove me the short distance to Lucy’s.
Jason parked in the circular, gravel driveway in front of Lucy’s two-story house. I gave him a quick kiss goodbye and hopped out of his car to walk to the front door. After knocking on the dark wood, I waited in the shade of the awning for someone to let me in. Lucy’s mom opened the door a crack to see who was outside, then opened it the rest of the way when she saw that it was me.
Lucy’s mom is even shorter than Lucy, about 4’11”. I used to be terrified of her when I was younger. She is a very stoic woman, whose mouth is always set in a firm, unrelenting line. Her eyes, which are the same almond shape as Lucy’s, regarded me with calculating interest, then turned and walked toward the kitchen, expecting me to follow.
“Nice to see you too,” I mumbled to the empty air as I stepped over the threshold. I waved goodbye to Jason before shutting the door behind me and taking off my shoes. I placed them on the small square of tiling in front of the door, then headed to the kitchen.
As soon as I walked into the pristine fluorescence, I was met by a screeching seven year-old. “Xoe!” Lucy’s little sister Lizzie shouted as she hurled herself at me. I lifted her up underneath her armpits and spun her in a quick circle, making her long-sleeved yellow dress flare out. Lizzie looks like a miniature Lucy: long, dark, pin-straight hair, olive skin, and almond eyes, but instead of Lucy’s small, cupid’s-bow mouth, she has a wide mouth always formed into a smile to split her face in half. Since Allison and I are only children, we both love being around Lucy’s sister.
Lucy smiled at me from her seat at the small oak table that stood near the entrance of the kitchen. She wore a white apron over her deep purple v-neck sweater and khaki slacks to protect them from the flour and cookie frosting. Lucy’s mom stood silently over the kitchen counter, rolling out some cookie dough on wax paper beside the assorted Christmas cookie cutters she had already set out. Above the cookie cutters was an array of colored frostings and sprinkles for decorating the cookies after they were baked. Lucy’s mom finished her rolling and walked out of the kitchen silently. A woman of few words, was Lucy’s mom.
After we had cut and baked the cookies, Lucy set Lizzie to the task of decorating at the small table, then pulled me aside. We stood in the corner of the kitchen by the clean, magnet-free refrigerator. Lizzie hummed over her cookies with her back to us, completely absorbed in her task.
I looked down at Lucy questioningly.
She held my gaze firmly with her deep brown eyes. “I have news,” she whispered, licking her lips as if nervous.
I lifted my shoulders then let them down with a deep sigh. “So do I,” I admitted with a matching whisper.
Lucy cocked her head curiously. “You first.”
I shook my head silently and pointed a finger at Lucy, signaling for her to start.
“Lela’s still in town.”
“What?” I whispered incredulously.
Lela had been one of Dan’s flunkies. Upon our first meeting, she had thrown Allison into a wall, then moved on to attacking me. I’d been forced to stop her with a fireplace poker to the side of her head. Lela wasn’t all bad though. Once she had been separated from Dan, she was all too eager to join our side. She had wanted rid of Dan just as much as the rest of us. “How do you know?” I whispered.
Lucy rolled her eyes. “She showed up on my doorstep this morning.”
“What are you two whispering about?” Lizzie chimed in loudly.
“Boys,” I lied.
Lizzie made a disgusted sound. “You guys are gross.”
Lucy gave me an angry look. Lucy’s mom stood by the belief that her daughters didn’t even know what boys were, and Lizzie would likely rat her out. Lucy raised her eyebrows at me, waiting for me to apologize.
I shrugged, and nodded over to Lizzie, who had duteously gone back to her cookies. I brought us back to subject. “What did she want?”
Lucy still looked a little irritated, but answered, “She says she wants to talk to you, me, and Max. She refused to say anything else until she could talk to the three of us together.”
“Why me?” I asked, confused.
“What do you mean why you?”
“Well, I can understand her wanting to talk to you and Max, since you’re both werewolves,” I explained, “but why would she want to talk to me?”
Lucy considered for a moment. “I don’t know, but I told her we would meet at your place at 7:00 tonight. I already called Max.”
I managed to close my gaping jaw enough to complain, “Geez, thanks a lot for filling me in.”
Lucy shook her head, brushing off my sarcasm. “What’s your news?”
“Well,” I began, “Lela’s not the only one who’s in town.”
Lucy turned away from me as her mom strode into the kitchen to silently admire Lizzie’s handiwork. When her mom left, Lucy turned back to me expectantly.
“Jason and I went to the mall today,” I explained. “We ran into my dad.”
Now it was Lucy’s delicate jaw that hung agape. “Your dad? Are you sure? How did you know it was him?”
I looked down, no longer able to meet Lucy’s gaze. “It was him, no doubt about it. We had a rather unpleasant conversation.”
Lucy shook her head with disbelief. “Let’s go to your place,” she glanced at Lizzie, “away from prying ears.”
I nodded and walked over to where Lizzie was still happily decorating cookies with Lucy following shortly behind me. In the short time she’d had to work, Lizzie had managed to cover each and every cookie with globs of multi-colored frosting, and was now covering them with a thick coating of sprinkles. Lizzie smiled up at me, showcasing the fact that about half of the frosting had gone around her mouth. Lucy sighed and started cleaning up the mess.
After we finished, Lucy and I began the short walk to my house. Lucy didn’t let the silence stand for long. “So what did your dad say?”
I watched my sneakers as we walked over the faded asphalt of our street. “He wants to teach me.”
“Teach you what?” Lucy cut in abruptly.
“About being a demon, and learning to control my powers.”
“Oh,” Lucy answered.
‘Oh’ was right. I still hadn’t gotten any nearer to coming to terms with my feelings on the situation. I could play apathetic to things all I wanted, but in reality, I was furious with my dad. I didn’t think I could stand to be around him long enough to ever forgive him for leaving my mom and me. Yet, though I hated to admit it, there was a deep down part of me that had always hoped he would come back, preferably with an excellent excuse for being MIA most of my childhood.
I huddled against the cold breeze, wishing I’d worn a jacket over my burgundy sweater, and stared out into our green surroundings. Most of the trees in Shelby are evergreens, making fall and winter much more green than in other areas. I let the silence draw on until we reached my house. My mom’s car was gone, so she was either working late, or was out Christmas shopping.
Lucy and I went in through the front door and into my colorful living room. The deep green loveseat was occupied with rolls of Christmas-themed wrapping paper and ribbons that my mom had kept from last year, so Lucy sat down on the dark blue couch. A growl from my stomach reminded me that I hadn’t eaten since breakfast, so I left her sitting there while I went into the kitchen to throw a couple of frozen pizzas into the oven.
When I came back into the living room to sit by Lucy, she gave me a serious look, a dark flush still on her face from the cold. “So what are you going to do about your dad?”
I sighed, not happy to be back on this subject. “Nothing, I guess. I promised Jason I would at least consider letting Alexondre teach me, but . . . ”
Lucy cocked her head slightly. “His name is Alexondre?”
I nodded, waiting for her reaction.
“But
. . . why would your mom give you a name so close to his? You would think after he left her alone and pregnant, she wouldn’t want any reminders of him.”
I shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. I still haven’t decided whether or not to tell my mom that he’s back, but if I want to ask her about my name, I’ll have to tell her I met him.”
Lucy shook her head slowly. “Too weird.”
“Tell me about it. Now what’s the plan for Lela?” I glanced at the grandfather-style wall clock that hung above where the TV used to be. It had luckily survived the TV’s death with only minor scorching. It was just past 6:30.
Lucy’s gaze followed mine to the clock. “I don’t know. Just hear her out I guess. Max should be here soon. He wanted to be here before Lela.”
A fast, obnoxious knock sounded at my front door. Speak of the devil.
“Come in!” I called.
Max opened the door and came striding in, shutting it gently behind him. He shucked off his light blue fleece to reveal a long-sleeved orange and yellow plaid shirt over faded jeans. Max is only about 5’4”, and his sandy blond hair, and pale green eyes, are complemented by skin that would be densely freckled if he lived somewhere with more sun. He came and squeezed between Lucy and me on the couch, then turned to Lucy. “So what’s this all about? You were so cryptic on the phone.”
Lucy shrugged. “I told you all that I know. She wanted us together before she’d say anything.”
Max looked grumpy. He often reminded me of a sullen elf, though I’d never say it to his face. He looked back and forth between Lucy and me. “I don’t like this. I don’t understand why she’s still in town.”
I had no time to placate Max, because another knock sounded at the door. This time, I got up to answer it. I walked quickly to the front door and opened it, trying to put up a front of confidence. Lela was outside in dark-wash jeans and a lavender cable knit sweater, standing a few feet back from the door as if she was afraid that I’d attack her. Given our past, her chances were about fifty-fifty.
The Xoe Meyers Trilogy (Xoe Meyers Young Adult Fantasy/Horror Series) Page 18
