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But I wasn’t feeling cool the next morning as I waited outside Mug Shots. In fact, I was feeling pretty nervous. An ancient Mercedes pulled around the corner and slid to a stop in front of me. Jordan grinned at me from the driver’s seat. “You ready to go hug some trees?”
“Hey,” I said, “I’ll hug whatever needs hugging.” Okay, that sounded bad. “I mean, you know, within reason.”
“Sure, sure. Within reason.” He laughed that great laugh again. I opened the passenger side door and climbed in.
Instantly the smell hit me, like french-fries or onion rings. It was enough to make a girl hungry. “Smells like the state fair in here,” I said. “What, do you have a donut for an air freshener?”
He patted the dashboard affectionately. “Love that new car smell, huh? My housemate converted her to run on vegetable oil. Sustainable, and no one fights wars over it.”
No, I thought, but I’d arm wrestle you for a Krispy Kreme right now. “I thought you must have gone through a drive through,” I said, “but I didn’t peg you for a McDonald’s kind of guy.”
“Well you know,” he said, “My kind doesn’t actually eat.”
My kind. Right. I had completely forgotten about the vampire thing. Jordan’s gaze flicked over to me, then back to the road as we pulled away. I acted really casual, leaning back in my seat. “Guess Burger King is out of the question then?”
“Burger King!” he said, “Don’t even get me started!” And then he got started all on his own. For the next few hours, Jordan filled me in on deforestation and factory farms and the best place to buy vegan shoes, and I filled him in on bootleg albums and silk screening t-shirts and the entire seventh season of Buffy. When we were done with all that, Jordan told me the background of the protest we were going to: how the logging company had fudged the environmental impact statement, how they were under investigation, but how, until a court ordered them to stop, they would still keep cutting down trees. “Some of these trees are old,” Jordan said, “Some of them have been there over a century.” The way he said it, I could tell it hurt him, as if the trees were old friends, and it made me hurt, too. By the time we reached the protest sight I was fired up and ready to jump into the fray.
Which is why I was surprised when Jordan didn’t stop near the crowd of activists chanting and holding signs at the entrance to the logging road. Instead he drove around to a dirt back road that snaked its way into the forest from the other side. The road was too narrow for our tank of a car and I was afraid that we were going to get stuck in the muddy ruts left by the logging machinery. But that wasn’t all I was worried about. I couldn’t help thinking about the fact that I was headed into the woods with a vampire.
You trust Jordan, I reminded myself. And I did.
But I was still relieved when we rounded a bend and the trees opened up into a little clearing. A small knot of people stood in the center, gathered around a map. They looked up, tense, when they heard our car, but Jordan waved to them out the window and they went back to what they were doing. Jordan pulled the car over alongside a rusted van plastered with bumper stickers and gave me a reassuring smile. “It’s cool,” he said, “They just weren’t sure it was us.”
I nodded and smiled back. “Sure. It’s cool.” These were Jordan’s friends, after all. I stepped out of the car, relieved to stretch my legs.
A stocky African American guy strode towards us. He was dressed all in blacks and browns like he was part of the trees, his long dreadlocks held back with a black bandana. I felt suddenly conspicuous in my bright red jacket with my own locks the color of skittles.
The guy scowled at me. “Did somebody call for take out? I could smell it from over there.”
I laughed nervously and sniffed the sleeve of my jacket. “It’s not take out. It’s the car we borrowed. It runs on--”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.” He turned on Jordan. “Why’d you bring a human up here? This is vamp camp. You were supposed to leave her at the bottom of the mountain with the rest of her kind.”
“Beck’s cool, Andre.” Jordan stepped a little closer to my side. “She can be trusted.”
“They can’t any of them be trusted.” Andre’s dark eyes were full of disgust, like I was a bug that had just crawled out from under a dead log. It made me want to get up in his face, but I didn’t want to make trouble.
“Listen,” I whispered to Jordan, “If it’s some kind of issue I can go with the other humans…”
“No,” he said quickly, “It’s no issue. We want you here with us.”
He said we, but I could tell he meant I. Jordan wanted me here. The thought made me feel stronger. I looked Andre in the eye. “You can trust me,” I said, “After all, I trusted all of you, coming up here.”
He smiled coldly and I caught a flash of fang. “Yeah?” he said, “Well that mighta been a mistake.”
Jordan moved to fast I couldn’t even see it. One second he was at my side, the next he was between me and Andre, crouched tense like a cat about to pounce. Andre was crouched, too, his muscles bunched beneath his black t-shirt. “You’ve got a lot of nerve,” Jordan said, “Talking like—”
“And you’ve got a lot of nerve, bringing one of them onto our territory!”
“Our territory?” Jordan’s voice was loud enough to make the others turn and look our way. “If this is anyone’s territory it’s mine!” There was a growl under his words. The easy going guy from the coffee shop was gone. I could feel the eyes of the others staring at us and for a second my breath froze. Were they going to fight? And if they did, what side would the others take? For a heartbeat, no one moved.
Then Jordan straightened. “But it isn’t anyone’s territory.” His voice was pitched to carry in the still woods. “It’s everyone’s and no one’s. It’s its own.” He looked at me. “The humans have a right to be here, too.”
Andre was still tensed. “The humans are the ones who fucked it up.”
“And they have to help fix it.” A petite girl in a down vest stepped out of the little group of vampires. Her black hair was in a long braid and she held the map. “Andre, why don’t you double-check the locks while I fill Jordan in?”
Andre looked back and forth for a minute between the girl and Jordan. Then he took a step back. “Fine,” he said, and headed for the van. But the look he shot my way as he went said that this wasn’t over yet.
“Sorry about that.” The girl retracted her fangs and smiled at me brightly. Without them she looked sort of wholesome, like someone’s babysitter. “Some people have issues.”
“It’s okay.” I smiled back weakly, “I understand.”
But I didn’t. Not really. I was starting to think there was a lot I didn’t understand. But one thing I was getting loud and clear: I was in way over my head.