“I’ll be fine. I don’t need a babysitter. You boys go . . . do something manly.” And they’re off.
I turn back to Tex. She starts to say something, but I hold up one finger. I want to make sure they’re far enough away. Tex is so newly Claimed that she has Viktor on a pretty long leash. Or maybe theirs isn’t as tight as mine was with Peter. I hope not for both of their sakes.
When they’re far enough away that we can talk without being eavesdropped on, I nod.
“We’re good,” I say and follow her back to the church. The windows are still boarded up and I start ripping off the planks Peter put up. Tex watches me as if she’s never seen me before.
“What’s it like?” I have to think of a way to explain it, which isn’t easy.
“I feel old, but powerful at the same time. Like I’m not afraid of anything. You know that scared feeling you get in the pit of your stomach that makes you hot and cold? I don’t get that anymore. I feel fear, yes, but it’s more in my head and less in my body. If that makes any sense.”
“I guess,” she says, following me as I clear the rest of the windows. “How the hell did he get a bed in there?”
“I have no idea. I didn’t ask.”
She peers in further, nearly climbing in the window.
“Wow, candles and everything. Very romantical.”
“It was. It really was.” We grin at each other and I spill, telling her about the night Peter and I spent together and how magical it was. She listens with rapt attention, which is rare for Tex. I then move into my transformation, how confusing it was, how it was hard when I woke up and then the moment when all of my memories flooded back to me and I was so relieved that I wanted to cry.
“So you can’t cry?”
“Nope. It’s like my body doesn’t do that anymore. I don’t think I sweat, either.” I sniff my armpit, but I don’t smell like anything.
“Let me see.” Tex carefully sniffs me and shrugs. “You kind of smell like flowers. Or something. I can’t put my finger on it.”
This is what best friends are for. Sniffing each other’s armpits.
“So if I wasn’t Claimed, would you want to bite me?” I give her a look.
“Do you really want the answer to that question?”
She shakes her head.
“Probably not. So I’m guessing going home right now is out of the question.”
Yes, yes it is.
“I don’t know what to do, Tex.” I say, banging my head against the wall of the church. It doesn’t hurt, and some stone crumbles away. I should probably not do that again. I didn’t want to demolish the place.
“Okay, well, how about you tell your dad that you decided to come with me to look at colleges? My parents have been driving me nuts about it, so we could pretend that’s what you’re doing. That would buy you at least a week. What parent is going to say no to that?” I have to hand it to her, it’s a brilliant plan.
“Have I told you lately that I love you?”
“Not in the last five minutes,” she says, smiling at the ingenuity of her plan.
“Okay, so I should probably call him. But not right now. I really just want to lay in the sun.”
The sun, the glorious sun. How had I not noticed how freaking awesome it is before? I can see why cats are so obsessed with it.
“Earth to Ava,” Tex says, and if I were still human, I would have jumped.
“How long have I been standing here, staring at the sun?” I ask.
“Um, for a little while. You did that stillness thing. It kind of freaked me out, not gonna lie.”
“Sorry, it’s just the sun. Can you feel it?” I know she can’t, not the way I do, but I’m just so damn excited about it that I want to try to share it with her.
“Calm down there, sun junkie.”
“Do you mind if I strip?” I don’t even bother to wait for her response before I shuck off my shirt and pants.
The urge to roll around in the grass and laugh hysterically comes over me, but I suppress it. Don’t want to freak Tex out any more than I already have. So instead I lie in a patch of sunlight and try to stop smiling. Tex lies down next to me, making sure our shoulders and legs didn’t touch. That would kill my sun buzz a little.
“Do you regret it?” Once again, I have to think about that. There are things about the change that I hadn’t expected, and things that I had. I wouldn’t have known if I regretted it until I did it, which I guess is true of most things.
“No. It’s the weirdest thing. It’s like I know, deep down, that all roads led me here. Meeting Peter that night and Di and all of it. This was meant to happen. Or maybe I’m just high on sun and blood and babbling and haven’t dealt with the fact that I just killed four people.” That is a distinct possibility.
Tex’s eyes widen at that comment, and I hastily change the subject.
“So tell me about something else. What’s happening at the bookstore?” I want to bring back parts of the life I’d left behind. Tex launches into a story about a crazed customer that she’d ended up having to throw out of the store and as I listen, I feel my body absorbing the sun and using it to break down the blood. Yes, I know how weird that sounds.
I’d needed my best friend. Peter is one thing, but Tex is another. With the absence of my mother, she’s the other person I can count on. I need her even more in my immortality. A reminder of my humanity. Maybe she can help me keep that part of myself burning.
It would be easy to forget. I can feel myself wanting to. I’d forgotten when I’d been sucking the life out of those people. Ava was gone. I was pure noctalis.
Keeping ahold of myself was going to be the greatest challenge I would ever face in this new life.
Peter
The most important thing for Ava, right now, is maintaining ties with her humanity. She’d had more of a grasp of it when she woke up than I imagined possible, but it is so easy to lose that grip.
Viktor and I run, not speaking. He is able to go fairly far from Texas, which is good. It seems that every Claim is different, which we had not known beforehand, even though we’d both heard stories about them.
She won’t be able to go home yet. I had not wanted to upset her by telling her that she wouldn’t be ready, so I didn’t mention it before, but when I saw her face after she realized she’d fed from four people, I knew she knew.
Severing all her human ties isn’t possible. It would only lead to it being easier for her to lose her humanity and I know that would hurt her more than anything else.
To keep her humanity, she has to put it in danger. We live a dangerous life. One of standing on the edge of something, about to plunge over the edge.
Eleven
Ava
The guys give us sufficient time to catch up, and me enough sun time so that when they do come back, I’m almost sleepy. That’s the closest thing I can compare it to.
“Oh! I forgot to tell you, Peter bought me a house,” I say, showing Tex the key. “Thanks for that, Viktor.”
He gives me a bow, and it makes me giggle and Tex sigh dreamily.
“My pleasure.”
The four of us sit and talk about everything but my transformation. Eventually, Tex gets hungry and Peter brings out the leftovers from yesterday and she devours what’s left.
The food smells good, but I don’t want to eat it, which I find both weird and intriguing.
“I should probably get home. Coby has been left to his own devices, and God only knows what he’s been getting up to.” She goes to hug me, but pulls back at the last moment.
“Sorry.” She hugs Viktor, who hugs me and then we do it in reverse again.
“So, since I’m going to be telling my parents that I’m traveling around looking at colleges this week, does that mean I can come and stay with you?”
“Um, absolutely! The house is a mess, and really old, but we can put a tent in the back or something.” It’s going to be strange, to see it again. The last time I was there with Mom.
Mom. The pain over losing her is still here, still hot and bright and close.
“You don’t need to worry about that,” Peter says, bringing me back into the moment. Right, the house.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“It’s taken care of.” How is he so sneaky? I swear, he should work for the Secret Service. He’s that good.
“Good, because I don’t do tents. You know this, Ava.” She’s right. I remember how much she freaked out when I went camping last time.
“So, slumber party at Ava’s new house!” Tex says, pumping her fist. “Can there be booze? I mean, I know I’m the only one who can drink it, but I feel like we should celebrate. Or I should celebrate and the rest of you can watch and be jealous.” I never thought Tex would be rubbing the fact that she’s still human in my face, but stranger things have happened.
“I will get you something,” Viktor says, taking her hand. Her face lights up and she throws herself on him.
“Thanks, V. I always know I can count on you.” And she calls me and Peter nauseating.
“Okay, so we’re going to go up tonight and you guys can meet us tomorrow? Are you going to drive?”
Tex sighs.
“I guess I’m going to have to, in order to keep up the college-visiting pretense. Ugh, I do not want to drive three hours when this guy can get me there in less than half the time.” He picks her up and she squeals in delight. Get a room.
“I’ll text you the address so you can GPS it,” I say.
“Oh! I completely forgot. What did you get? Mermaid tail? No, let me guess . . . Bat wings? Did you get claws? Rawr.” She pretends to claw at me.
“Um, no. None of the above.” I look at Peter and smile. He smiles back. Oh, swoon.
“Show meeeeee,” Tex whines as she plays with Viktor’s hair.
I pull my shirt off and concentrate for a second. Then there’s that now-familiar ripping noise as my wings poke through my back from wherever they’ve been hiding. It makes no logical sense, but then again, people who don’t die and use the sun to digest blood don’t make any logical sense.
“Oh my God! They’re so awesome. Ave, you’re an angel.” Not really. “I knew you were going to be a set. Like salt and pepper shakers. Wow, they’re so pretty.” I turn my head to get a look at them and see that she’s right. I haven’t seen them in the sun yet. They sparkle like Peter’s, only brighter, because of the whiteness reflecting the sun.
I beat them a few times, stirring all our hair. I haven’t tried to fly with them yet. I wanted to wait until I was alone, or maybe just with Peter before I attempted that. My greatest fear is that I won’t be able to use them and will fall flat on my face. I don’t want an audience for that.
“Well, Ave, you’re totally set for Halloween. Don’t even need a costume.” Her smile is genuine, but there is something else in her expression that she tries to hide from me by kissing Viktor, but I must have grown some extra perception sensors or something, because I can read it on her face.
She’s jealous.
Maybe not of the wings or the immortality, but just of the certainty. I know that Peter and I will always be together. We will always look like this. Even if the United States is destroyed and the world turns into a dystopia like in one of my books, we’ll still be the same. We don’t have to face the unknown, and neither of us will have to face it alone. We’ll always have each other.
Her relationship with Viktor is new, and I am not sure if she really knows where she stands. I remember feeling that way, so many times with Peter. In the back of my mind, that uncertainty always lingered, just like the knowledge that my mother was going to die lingered.
“Okay, well I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m going to call Jamie and see how he is, but could you go check on him before you come up? I don’t think it’s a good idea to see him, but tell him that I miss him and give him a hug for me.”
“I will. Love you, Ave.”
“I love you, too.” She waves as Viktor carries her back to her car. Peter and I stand in silence until I hear the ripping sound and his wings are out, ruining his shirt.
“Hey, I bought you that shirt.”
“I am sorry,” he says, and I forgive him because I’m going to pick my battles. We have an eternity to fight and make up.
Peter
She is nervous about flying, but she need not be. It is as easy as breathing once was for her.
We take off and she gasps in delight.
“This is so amazing,” she says as we soar higher and higher. I smile, exhilarated by her excitement.
“How high can we go?”
“As high as we want.”
“Could we go into space?” She looks below us, watching the ground fade away as we climb higher.
“I have never tried it, but if you want to, we can.”
She shakes her head. So human, still.
“No, I don’t want to take any chances.” She slows when we burst through the cloud cover.
“Okay, this is exactly like that scene in Aladdin, only five million times better.” She stretches her arms out and throws her head back, hovering in midair. “A whole new wwwwooooorrrrrlllllldddddd . . .”
“Are you happy?” It is a question she used to ask me, even before I understood what happiness was. She is happiness. Being with her. Forever.
“Yeah. I am. I thought it was going to be hard, after Mom, but this gives me something else to think about. Something good. At least for this. Not so much for the blood part. I still really don’t want to think about that. About . . . them.” I don’t need her to elaborate.
“You will have to, at some point.” I’m still trying to be gentle with her, because I know how volatile things can feel. Or at least how they felt for me. She seems to be completely different, though.
“I know. But for now, I’m enjoying my Disney fantasy come true.” She veers and dips in and out of one of the clouds.
“Chase me!” she calls.
So I do.
Ava
When we get back from my first flight, Peter asks if I want to feed again. I know he’s out of people, so we’d have to actually find someone. Of course I want blood, but I don’t want to do this part yet, so I tell him I’m fine. No more bodies on my hands tonight. Peter had tried to get me to not kill each of the people, but I’d failed miserably and he’d told me that I would learn, but I didn’t want to try any more today.
We go back into the church and I decide I’ve put off calling Dad and telling him about the faux road trip long enough.
The phone rings six times before Aj picks up.
“Hey, I thought you’d be home. I made dinner. And by ‘made dinner’, I mean I ordered out and put it on a plate. I, um, lied earlier.” I had heard the lie, but hadn’t called her out on it.
“That sounds awesome.” Eating is going to be a problem, as long as she’s staying with us. I can only make excuses for so long before she gets suspicious. Hopefully, she’ll be gone soon and I know Dad won’t notice since he barely remembers to feed himself now, let alone me, which sends a pang of pain through me.
“Listen, Tex’s parents are bugging her to go look at colleges and she wants me to tag along, so we’re going on a road trip. I know it’s a spur of the moment thing, but you know Tex. I just wanted to call and tell Dad that I wouldn’t be home.” It’s true. I can make my voice sound however I want it to sound. The lie is so easy, it’s almost laughable. I don’t feel the guilt like I used to, not yet at least. This is a different feeling.
“Oh, where are you going?” I’d thought this up ahead of time, so I could answer without hesitation.
“UMaine. Bowdoin and then we’re heading to check out UNH and some other college I can’t remember, but Tex says has a great library science program.”
“Don’t you need clothes?” I’m prepared for this as well.
“I always overpack when I hang out with Tex because she has a habit of disapproving of my outfits and refusing to let me leave the house unti
l I change, so I’ve got enough for a month.”
I answer the rest of her inevitable questions with no difficulty and she seems completely convinced.
“Well, have fun. Do you want to talk to your dad?”
No.
Yes.
“Sure.” There’s a sound as Aj explains to Dad that it’s me, and that I’m taking a trip. I hear him sort of grunt in response and take the phone.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Ava, long time no talk,” he jokes.
This. This is the moment when I want to cry the most, but I can’t. And something crashes over my head. Hits me as if the church has collapsed.
Selfish.
I am so beyond selfish.
“So you’re going to go look at colleges with Tex, I hear.” He sounds good. The note of despair in his voice has lessened, just a bit. Maybe . . . maybe he’s going to be okay without me.
Selfish. Mom would be ashamed of me. That makes me think back to her letter again. I still have plenty of them to read, and I think it’s time for another one. I’ve already memorized the first one. I may not be a speed reader like Peter yet, but my comprehension and speed have definitely improved.
“Yeah, we are. But I don’t have to go. I could come home and we could do something. Maybe go to the beach, or hiking.” I don’t mention camping because I know that it’s going to be a long, long time before either of us is ready for that. Besides, that was her thing. We only went along with it to make her happy.
Peter is giving me a look, but doesn’t point out the fact that there’s no way I can go home in my current state.
“No, no. You need to be young and have fun, and decide what you want for your future. You don’t need to amuse your boring old Dad.”
“You’re not boring, or old.” Okay, so he is a little boring, but maybe that’s only from my perspective.
“You’re just saying that. But thanks anyway. You have fun.” I can tell he doesn’t want to talk, but I kind of wish he did. Unless I can find some way to tell him everything, talking on the phone is going to be our only means of communication a few years from now.