by Sonia Hartl
“What about you?” I nodded to the photo album. “Won’t you miss them?”
“I already miss them. Every day. Maybe it’ll be better, not knowing what I gave up for the love that turned out to be a lie. Maybe it won’t hurt me anymore.”
“Maybe.” I touched the edge of the blue cover, the daisies painted on it with so much care. Rose had complicated feelings about her family, but she loved them. “Or maybe it will always ache. Like a phantom limb.”
“I’m scared.” Rose’s simple statement touched on my own fears in the most visceral way. Everything about immortality scared me, but the memory of myself had been an anchor to keep me grounded. Without it, I didn’t know what I’d become.
“I’m scared too.” I squeezed her hand.
“Me too.” Ida pulled the living-room chair closer and placed her hand over ours.
“I’m scared I’ll open my photo album and it won’t mean anything to me,” Rose said. “I’m scared it will, and I won’t know what to do with those feelings because I can’t remember. Before today, I questioned if it was worth it. I still don’t know if it’s worth it.”
“What about Parker?” I asked.
Ida held my gaze, her dark eyes heavy and serious. “If we don’t go through with it, you know what will happen. That song always stays the same.”
“I don’t think we have a choice then.” It wasn’t just about getting free from Elton. Parker was one of us. She became one of us the moment Elton set his sights on her and mistakenly targeted her as weak. We were all hurting in different ways when Elton found us, and we wanted so badly to believe the pretty lies of a pretty boy, but that didn’t make us any less deserving of having a full life. Wanting to love and be loved wasn’t a weakness.
Rose tipped her head to the side, resting it against my shoulder. The three of us sat there until the sun came up, with each of us holding our memories in our hand.
As we watched them run between our fingers like water.
Chapter Nine
We spent the next few days poring over Rose’s research, looking for a way out of losing our memories, when a knock at the door made all three of us jump. We weren’t expecting company, let alone in the early hours before dawn. Ida put a finger to her lips and motioned for us to get behind her. While she’d been confident Frankie wouldn’t go to Elton with information about what we were up to, I didn’t trust anyone in his coven.
Rose gripped my wrist, and I bent my knees, ready to spring, but Ida’s posture visibly relaxed once she looked through the peephole. “It’s just Parker.”
Ida opened the door, where Parker stood in the dark, her shoulders slumped. She looked sadder than a wet box of free kittens. “I’m sorry to bother you.”
Rose gave her a warm and welcoming smile. The same smile the wolf probably gave Little Red Riding Hood when he was dressed up like grandma. “You’re not bothering us.”
“Yes, you are.” Ida crossed her arms, and Rose swatted her.
I just stood there staring. I told her she could come over anytime, but I hadn’t expected her to actually take me up on it. “Why are you here?”
“Oh.” Her cheeks pinked. “I guess I should explain myself. My mom’s still at work, third shift, but she gave her ex-boyfriend the key, and he decided to use it. When he stumbled into my room, drunk off his ass, I left.” She shook her head as I widened my eyes. “Nothing happened. He didn’t know it was my room, I don’t think he even knew it was his ex-girlfriend’s apartment. He was pretty wasted.” She lifted her hands and let them fall at her side. “I don’t know anyone else in town.”
“You know Elton,” Ida said.
“I don’t know where he lives, and I didn’t want to see him right now, because he doesn’t—” She swallowed. “It’s okay. I can go.”
“No. Stay.” I took half a step toward her, rethought that idea, and took a step back, so I ended up in some kind of weird shuffle dance. Because, apparently, I was going to be forever awkward around this girl. “You can hang out on the couch for now. Or we can go somewhere?”
“Ida.” Rose jerked her chin toward her bedroom. Shaking her head, Ida followed Rose out to the balcony, leaving me alone with Parker in the living room.
I shifted my stance, not entirely sure what I was supposed to do. It had been a long time since I’d entertained the notion of “having company.” We didn’t even have anything to offer her to drink. Thankfully. “Should you call your mom or something?”
“I’m eighteen. I don’t need her permission to be out,” Parker said.
“I was just suggesting it so she doesn’t think you got murdered, but okay.”
“Do you like breakfast?” Parker blurted out the words in a rush, like she’d psyched herself up to ask and had to push it out all at once before she lost her nerve. “Because there’s a little diner I passed on the way over here, and I could go for some pancakes.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that. I didn’t eat, but I had a feeling that wouldn’t be a good lead in, especially because she looked about two seconds away from combusting. “I could go with you?” I phrased it more like a question, giving her an out if she’d only said that so she’d have a handy excuse to leave. “I like the smell of pancakes.”
I like the smell of pancakes? For fuck’s sake. I wished I still ate food, so I’d have something handy to stuff into my mouth to stop the talking. Just because my body was dead, didn’t mean my brain was too.
“That would be great.” She gave me a relieved smile, and oh, no. It was a good thing vampires couldn’t be killed by sunlight, because that smile had the power to ruin me.
After letting Rose and Ida know we were leaving, and waving off a dozen questions from Ida, we walked down to the diner between the pharmacy and the consignment shop. It opened at six, and the place already smelled like ninety-nine-cent coffee and Bisquick. We took a seat on brown vinyl seats that had cracked with age. The diner was called Momma’s House now, but it used to be called Dave’s. The walls that had once been an olive green were now painted butter yellow, but the booths hadn’t changed. Stacey and I came here a few times after Friday nights at the arcade. We would order water and eat the free crackers left on the table for soup, and we probably made all the waitresses want to do a murder. Another memory I’d be losing.
Parker pulled the jelly holder in front of her and began making a tiny pyramid out of the strawberry and grape. “I don’t think Ida likes me.”
“Ida doesn’t like anyone.” I closed my eyes, and for one brief second, I let myself believe this was just another Friday night with Stacey. It still smelled and sounded the same. The old vinyl crackled beneath my seat, and I opened my eyes to the real world. “Do you want to talk about why your mom is giving your apartment key to drunk men?”
“I’d rather not.” Parker pulled a bowl of individual creams in front of her and began adding them to the pyramid. “I feel bad enough showing up on your doorstep so early.”
A waitress wearing jeans and a jean shirt came by to take Parker’s order. Her face was rough and lined with age, but I still recognized Megan Bear underneath that leathered exterior. The girl who had made my life a living hell in middle school. Time and tanning beds had not done her any favors. Still, my heart raced, and my palms began to sweat on instinct as I glanced between her and Parker, like Megan still had the power to keep people from sitting with me.
She took Parker’s order, then paused when she got to me. She tapped her pen against her order pad, and I sunk lower in my seat. Just like I had in school. Back when I tried to shrink myself until she stopped seeing me.
Her gaze roamed my face, flickering between confusion and recognition. “Forgive me, sweetie, but you look familiar. Do I know your momma?”
She knew my momma all right, but I very much doubted she meant the woman who had once dated her dad. “I don’t think so. I’m new here.”
“Sure. You just look like someone I used to know.” She shook her head, her helmet of sprayed curls stay
ing in place as she tapped her order pad again. A bold move on her part to keep the same hairstyle she wore in high school by choice. “What can I get you?”
“Water.” Even though I wouldn’t be drinking it.
Once Megan left, Parker tilted her head. “She looked at you like she knew you.”
“You know how it is in towns like this. Everyone thinks they’re supposed to know everyone.” I tried to laugh it off, but I sounded more like a strangled cat.
“You’re not new here.” Apparently, Parker was in the mood to press this morning. “Why didn’t you tell the waitress you used to live here?”
“It’s complicated and not worth spending time on.” My fingers brushed against a loose thread of vinyl on the torn seat, and I wrapped my finger around it. “Why do you care about what I choose to tell strangers about me?”
Parker ran her thumb over the chips and scratches on the table. “Because she didn’t look at you like you’re a stranger. Have you ever been to this diner before?”
“No.” I pulled the string around my finger tighter. “Maybe she saw me at the store or something. I don’t know why she recognized me.”
“I would’ve been willing to buy that”—Parker gave me a smug look that would’ve been annoying on anyone else—“if you didn’t look like you recognized her too.”
“Look.” I rested my hands on the table, and Parker’s eyes widened as she stared at them. I glanced down, realizing I ripped half my finger off on the vinyl thread. Shit. I snatched it back under the table. It was like a paper cut, something that didn’t really hurt until you noticed it. “Maybe I recognized the waitress because she lives around here. Who knows?”
“Your finger.” Parker’s voice shook, and she’d gone pale.
“What about it?” I put my hand back on the table, where it had already healed. I turned them both over and only felt mildly bad for lying. It was for her own good.
“I. You.” She opened her mouth and closed it again. Though she appeared willing to let the missing finger go, she had something in her craw she was trying to work out. “How do you, Rose, and Ida live in that apartment?”
“I don’t really live there.” I didn’t really live anywhere at all. Elton liked to move, and money for a place had always been hard to come by. The dingy motel I rented by the week had become more my home in the last three months than anywhere else.
“Semantics,” Parker said. “Where is your mom? Or theirs? How is it that three high-school girls can live on their own, and no one thinks that’s weird?”
“Why do you think that is?” I sat back, crossing my arms. She asked a lot of questions for someone who didn’t want answers. “What do you really want to know?”
Megan came back with my water and Parker’s coffee. She frowned as she set my water in front of me but didn’t try to place my face again. Her eyes kept flicking to my hair, though. She spit enough wads of paper into it to recognize the awful crimps. Or maybe I was reading too much into it, and she was just hoping the ’80s were coming back so she could relive her glory days.
“You never went to Glen River West, did you?” Parker asked as soon as Megan left.
“I did a long time ago. Longer than anyone there would remember, except maybe Mr. Stockard.” I stared at the cars slowly meandering down the road, like they hadn’t fully woken up yet. “So did Elton, but you’re a smart girl. I’m sure you’ve figured that out already.”
“You didn’t order anything for breakfast. I’ve never seen Elton eat, either. Normal people won’t go near him, and they go out of their way to avoid you, Rose, and Ida too.”
I shrugged. “Are you looking for an apology for that?”
“I’m looking for a reason.” She slammed her hand on the table, rattling the silverware. “You say Elton is dangerous, but why? Why does it feel like you’re all playing some kind of sick joke on me? I’ve got enough going on in my life, in case you haven’t noticed. I don’t need this.”
“You know what we are.” I lowered my voice as I leaned forward. “Deep down, you know, and it scares you. It should scare you.”
Parker took a large gulp of her lukewarm coffee, which she’d watered down with two creamers and six sugars. “If you are …” She stopped, and I could see her gathering thoughts as her gaze darted around the diner, landing anywhere but on me. “What do you want?”
“I want you to stay safe. Until we can do what we need to do.”
“Which is …?”
I flashed my fangs as I smiled, and she shuddered. The first sign of fear she’d shown around me. “I like you, Parker.”
“You do? Why?” She groaned and stared up at the ceiling. “I swear, I’m not begging for compliments. Could I possibly sound more pathetic?”
“You’re not pathetic.” I smiled to myself, once again struck by how much she reminded me of me. “I like that you’re self-aware, but you’re not an asshole about it. You seem kind, and not the fake kind where you’re trying to get recognition.” I cleared my throat. “But that’s just an observation. I don’t know you that well.”
She blinked a few times. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
“That’s really sad.”
She brightened up. “Isn’t it?”
I closed my eyes again, but this time I didn’t imagine I was back in this diner with Stacey in 1987. I wanted to be exactly where I was now. It was so easy to be around Parker.
Megan dropped off Parker’s pancakes, and this trip through, she avoided eye contact altogether. I had a feeling I wouldn’t be getting an e-invite to the class reunion any time soon.
I used to dream about meeting Megan again, when I first left Glen River. Funny enough, it had been in this type of scenario, where she’d be serving me in some capacity. Now that it was happening in real life, though, it was a thousand times less satisfying. Like most fantasies I’d pictured in my mind. While I wasn’t sorry to see life had been hard on her, I found myself more indifferent to her than anything else. Even if my emotions didn’t move on from the time I died, some things inevitably changed with distance. This was one.
My untouched water glass dripped condensation while Parker finished her food. After she took her bill to the register, we stepped outside. We both turned toward the horizon, where the last of the night sky began to wink out with the daylight.
“You don’t have issues with the sun.” She said it as a statement, as close as she’d come to admitting what I was. “It makes me second-guess what I think I know.”
“Don’t believe everything you see in the movies.” A half smile tugged my lips, the closest I’d come to confirming her suspicions. “Are you heading to school now?”
“Yeah.” She tucked her hands into her pockets. “What about you?”
“I’m not going to school.” I’d rather shave my bikini line with a chainsaw.
“I didn’t think you would. Should I tell Mr. Stockard you said hi?”
“Please do.” He might not have been the cool teacher any more, but he’d mourned me when I left. There weren’t many people who could say the same. “And if you see a girl with frizzy black hair, pale as death, with gold eyes that look perpetually surprised, tell her I’m looking for her. She’ll probably be wearing a scarf or a turtleneck.”
“Oh, you mean the fake vampire?” Parker rolled her eyes.
I grabbed her arm, with a little more force than I intended. “What do you mean?”
“That’s what she calls herself, anyway. She hangs around the dirt hill by the school, where all the smokers go.” She glanced down to where my fingers had a firm grip on her upper arm but didn’t try to release my hold. “She has a small following, mostly the people who wear all black and shop at Hot Topic. She goes by Lilith but forgets to answer to it half the time.”
“She hangs out at the school?” That didn’t sound like Stacey. She hated school when she was required to go. She wouldn’t go for fun. What kind of con was she trying to pull?
“I don’t
think she goes to Glen River West.” Parker pursed her lips. “In fact, I’m sure she doesn’t, but she definitely has friends who go there. I hear them talk about her in class.”
Vampires didn’t have mortal friends. I glanced at Parker. Okay, vampires didn’t usually have mortal friends, but these weren’t usual circumstances. Whatever Stacey was doing at the high school, I was certain she didn’t intend to endear herself to the class of 2022.
Looked like I’d be headed back to the school after all.
Chapter Ten
Parker took the bus to school, and I waited until she made it on safely before running back to the apartment. I flung open the front door with so much force, the knob punched a hole in the wall. “I found Stacey. Or at least, I know where she’ll be today.”
Rose looked up from her notes. “Excellent. We’ve run into problems with my heirloom. Ida’s is easy to get but much more unpleasant, so we could use some good news.”
“What problems?” We didn’t need problems. We had enough problems just trying to track down my heirloom. With only a few weeks to collect everything we needed, we couldn’t afford to have any more setbacks.
“It’s in a safe-deposit box. I paid for a hundred years, at First National up the road. My grandmother’s silver combs were the most valuable thing I owned. It made sense at the time, but they won’t let me in without ID, even if I have the key.”
“ID is a thing banks usually require.”
“Well, that wasn’t a thing they required in 1954.” Rose stacked her notes with a huff. “Believe me, if I’d known how vital those combs were going to be, I never would’ve put them in that box. We can’t risk them thinking I’m dead, so we’ll have to find another way in.”
“Are you saying we have to break into a bank vault? Before the full moon?”
