“Dad, she’s a sophomore. She’s fifteen. She doesn’t drive yet. She goes to my school.”
“Nice laundry list, Matt, but I’d like to hear it from Natalie.”
“I’m not that interesting,” I said. “I’m just kind of average.”
“No you’re not,” Matt and his father said in unison.
“I am. I was. Of course now things are different.” I hesitated, reluctant to share my parents’ lack of trust. “My parents think I’m on drugs because I avoid them and my brothers. They search my room all the time. That’s why Matt has to come over so much. I can’t afford to keep any synthetic on hand.”
“I am so sorry about this,” his mother said coming down the stairs with Ashley. “We hate that you are suffering.”
“It’s not a big deal,” I said.
“Of course it is! To lose the trust of your parents that way. Especially when it wasn’t your doing.” Mr. Johnson turned his focus to his daughter.
Ashley slipped into her chair and squirmed under her father’s scrutiny.
“We can help some with the cravings, dear,” Mrs. Johnson said. “We can give you mints in the original containers.”
“I can’t. What if my brothers got into them?”
“They’d be fine. You shouldn’t feed them to the boys on purpose, but a few won’t make a difference. They contain an herbal blend that specifically targets only one craving. Craving blood.”
“My parents might test them. They might take them to a lab or something.”
“They’d go that far?” Mr. Johnson asked.
I nodded.
“Oh you poor dear,” Mrs. Johnson said, reaching out to pat my arm. “What have we done to you?”
All their guilt was making me feel guilty. “I’m okay. Really. Matt has been great. He really has. I just think I’m ready to know more about what’s happening to me.”
“Of course, you are, Natalie,” his mother said.
His father cut the meatloaf and gave me a slice. “We’ve got a lot to teach you, but first we eat.”
Ashley elbowed me and whispered, “Good luck. They never tell me anything.”
Chapter Three
“Great news,” Matt said before he had cleared the windowsill. “You’re healthy.”
I snatched the bottle of synthetic blood.
“Mom sent three.”
“Three? I can’t drink three.”
“Sorry, Nat. I’m under orders to stay until you finish them all. Mom and Dr. Williams don’t want you losing weight.”
“If I have to finish them all, you’ll be here all night.”
He grinned. “So be it.”
With a sigh, I unscrewed the cap on the first bottle and gulped it down.
He sat on the floor and watched.
I wasn’t ready for another bottle yet, so I lay on my bed on my stomach across from him.
“Was the doctor okay?”
“Yeah.” I wanted to tell him everything but I couldn’t make myself say those words. “She asked some weird questions.”
I averted my eyes afraid he’d read too much there.
After a moment, he cleared his throat. “Yeah. My parents were asking some pretty uncomfortable questions too.”
“Like they think we’re more than friends,” I said.
“Exactly.”
I got the nerve to meet his eyes. “Why do they think that?”
He looked away. “I don’t know. I guess because I spend so much time here late at night. We are teenagers. I don’t understand what they are thinking, though. It was almost as if--.”
“They were disappointed that more isn’t going on?”
“Yes,” he said, his blue eyes boring into mine. “I thought I was crazy.”
“The doctor was the same. I don’t get it.”
He shook his head. “Me either. They don’t tell me everything, you know. I have to drag each piece of information out of them. It’s ridiculous.”
“And frustrating.”
He nodded.
For a few minutes, he sat and I lay there, and we didn’t say anything. It was the good silence at first. Then it changed to awkward and uneasy and almost like an itch that needed scratching. I started wondering if maybe we should be doing more of what every adult thought we were doing, and then I wondered if his train of thought had traveled in the same direction.
“You should start the second bottle,” he said.
Grateful for something to do, I grabbed the bottle.
“I need to tell you one more thing. I mean, Mom wanted to do it, but I thought it might freak you out less if I told you myself.”
Oh man. “What is it now?”
Matt left his seat on the floor and sat on the bed next to me. He took my hand in his.
“How bad is it?”
“Not that bad. It’s just that, er, um, we have to start supplementing the synthetic blood.”
“What do you mean? With the stuff your mother cooks?”
“I wish.” He stared down at my hand clasped in his. “You’re going to have to start drinking some real blood for a while.”
I jumped up and away from him, tugging my hand loose. “No way.”
“I know it isn’t ideal,” he said.
“Ideal! Ideal? It’s bad enough you’ve made me into a monster. I don’t have to behave like one too.”
He stood and took hold of my arms. “Look at me,” he said. “Look at my face.”
I did.
“You aren’t going to do anything wrong. No one will be hurt. You’ll drink blood that the blood bank is discarding. The stuff only lasts twenty-one days and some goes to waste.”
Bile rose in my throat. “I can’t drink blood.” I wanted to. I wanted to smell it, taste it, swim in it. I craved blood, but actually giving in to the craving terrified me.
“You can, and you will.”
Then I did the most uncool thing a girl had ever done. I started crying.
Matt took me in his arms and hugged me tight. “I know,” he said. “I know.”
My first drink of real blood took place the next night at Matt’s house. His parents tried to make it better by serving it in wine glasses and drinking it along with me. Mrs. Johnson had sliced apples and cheese and put out some brie and crackers. Not one of us tasted them.
I appreciated their efforts. The second glass went down better than the first. Soon I didn’t have any trouble at all.
“You should only drink it here,” Mrs. Johnson said after delicately blotting her lips with her napkin. “Every other day will suffice. You can drop by after school or have dinner. Whatever works for your parents. If we have an emergency, Matt can bring some along with the synthetic.”
I didn’t like the synthetic as much after drinking the real stuff. I dreaded going to sleep at night because I dreamed about blood, but I was always full now. I could be around my family without worrying.
“How are they getting the blood?” I asked Matt later.
“My dad works in biological waste disposal.”
I couldn’t help shuddering at the thought. “That cannot be pleasant.”
Matt shrugged. “I never thought about it. It’s just necessary.”
Poor Mr. Johnson. I’d expect someone in that line of work to be a lot creepier.
“Tell him thanks,” I said. I actually meant it. It wasn’t until later that I realized that the Johnsons probably had the means to get rid of a body if they ever needed to.
They could probably get rid of my body. I was glad I didn’t know that earlier. Now, I trusted his family, and the knowledge didn’t bring any of the stomach cramping it would have before.
***
Halfway through the week, my mother decided to invite Matt to dinner at our house. She made it pretty clear that he had to eat at our house since I’d had dinner over there.
My parents agreed that Friday would be an excellent night, and against my will, I invited Matt to suffer the scrutiny of my parents and the repulsiveness of my
brothers.
He rang the doorbell promptly at seven.
Mom served lasagna, the only dish she made that managed to fill up my brothers.
Lasagna used to be my favorite, but now it tasted like everything else. Bland and blah.
“Smells delicious,” Matt said, even though I knew he couldn’t smell it.
“Thank you, dear,” my mother said.
Jordan and Justin were arguing about something. I had long ago learned to tune them out. Mom and Dad had too. Luckily, we didn’t have to put up with Travis. He had a date.
Before dinner, I heard my mother lecturing my father about going easy on Matt. “Don’t frighten him off,” she’d said. “I like him, and I know Natalie does.”
“So Matt,” Dad said with a cautious glance at my mother, “you’re a junior?”
“Yes, sir,” Matt answered, trying to focus on my father but sneaking glances at my bickering brothers.
“What are your college plans?” my dad asked.
Matt shifted in his chair. “I haven’t decided on a school yet. Or a major.”
My brothers’ argument had escalated to punches.
My father stood, grabbed them by their ears, and pulled them away from the table. “Your rooms. Now.”
For once, I hated to see the brat-lings go. They had provided a distraction. Now my parents could seriously focus their attention on Matt and me.
I jabbed Matt with my elbow to get his attention. Then I took a giant forkful of lasagna and stuffed it in my mouth.
Matt took the hint.
“You probably don’t have any idea what you want to do,” my mother said. “Oh, your mouth is full.”
My plan backfired when my mother landed on another topic of conversation.
“Natalie, I forgot to tell you. I volunteered to chaperone the Valentine dance. Well, the PTA called, and I had to agree, but I knew you’d be excited. We are going to have so much fun!”
The lasagna started its way back up my esophagus.
Matt had frozen, his fork in midair.
“Mom!” I nearly shouted. “I’m not going to the dance.”
Mom looked from Matt to me and back. “I thought surely you were.”
Matt started to speak but I couldn’t let him take the heat for my mother’s assumption.
“No,” I shook my head emphatically. “We aren’t. Mom and Dad, me and Matt are just friends.”
Mom eyes widened, and she backpedaled as fast as she could. “Oh, no, dear. That isn’t what I meant at all. I just thought you would want to be there since I am going to be there.”
“Shhh,” my dad said, patting my mother’s shoulder. “You’re making it worse.”
“This lasagna is fantastic,” Matt said before heaping another spoonful into his mouth.
With all the vampire craziness and my fears about his family, dinner with my family had turned out to be the most awkward. Once again, my life reaffirmed what I’d long known to be true. Valentine’s Day sucks.
***
We were supposed to pretend to go to a movie after dinner so I could get some red blood cells in me. I would have backed out of the whole charade if my sustenance hadn’t depended on it. Better to drink my blood with the Johnsons than to sit in my room face-to-face with Matt late tonight.
“Are we still going?” Matt asked as my mother cleared the table.
I nodded.
“Oh, right,” my mother said. She’d been thrown for a loop and she was trying to cover with fake enthusiasm and a plastered-on smile. “You two run along. I wouldn’t want you to be late.”
“We can stay long enough to help with the dishes,” Matt offered.
The politeness I usually admired had come back to bite me in the butt. I tried sending my mother subliminal messages and, when that didn’t work, I shook my head vehemently behind Matt’s back and made waving bye-bye gestures.
“No, thank you. I appreciate the offer, but we have it under control.”
“Great!” I grabbed Matt by the arm and dragged him toward the door. The only thing more insufferable than dealing with him after my mother’s faux pas was continuing to deal with Mom and Matt at the same time.
“Slow down,” Matt said through laughter as I closed the front door behind us. “Your mother isn’t going to come after us.”
I shook my head. “You don’t know my mother.”
Laughing again, he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “I’m not afraid of her. Now let’s get our story straight on what movie we are seeing but not seeing. The more we interact with your parents the more I worry.”
I should have known he could distract me from my mortification.
***
When we got to the Johnsons’ house, Matt saw the glasses of blood on the table and said, “Oh, thank God! I thought I was going to starve to death.”
“Hi, honey, how did it go?” his mother called from the couch.
His parents and sister were watching a movie in the great room.
“Fine,” he said.
“Let’s eat,” I said, striding toward the table.
I sat down, took a long sip of blood, savoring the taste, and relaxed for the first time all day.
Matt slurped his down like a human would a mocha latte.
I savored mine, taking a smaller sip. “AB?” I asked.
“You’re getting pretty good at it,” Matt said.
The truth was that I was starting to feel a lot more “at home” in the Johnsons’ house than at mine.
Just as I had feared, his mother came over to sit with us. “How’d he do? Manners? Did he eat enough?”
I smiled as I glanced over at Matt. “He did great. Perfect manners, and he totally pulled off normal.”
“Wonderful,” she said. “I have to admit I was worried.”
“Mom, I told you I had it under control.”
She sighed. “It’s just so important that they like you. More important than either of you can imagine.”
Matt rolled his eyes. “Hold the drama, Mom.”
“My parents definitely like him,” I said. “I think they want to keep him. They might want to arrange a trade for me. Or maybe they want him as a son-in-law.”
Matt spit out some of his blood.
“Son-in-law?” his mother asked. “Well that is certainly good news.”
“She’s overreacting,” Matt said. “They just assumed that we’d be going to the Valentine dance together.”
“You mean you aren’t? You should. When is the dance?”
“No. We aren’t. Nat explained to them that we are friends and only friends. She made it very clear.” He raised one eyebrow and locked eyes with his mother for a long moment.
“Oh, dear,” she said. “Still, I don’t see any reason to miss the dance. You only have so many Valentine’s dances in your life.”
Heat was rising in my cheeks. “Please, Mrs. Johnson, I think he got enough pressure at my house.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Sweetie,” she said, patting my hand. “Matt wants to take you. Don’t you, Matt?”
I wanted to crawl under the table.
Matt didn’t meet her eyes or mine. “I guess you would miss the dance otherwise, Nat. It’s not like you could go with someone else. It would be too dangerous. You couldn’t be within,” he cleared his throat, “inches of some other guy without wanting to bite him.”
Oh no. He was caving. He thought he would have to take me the dance. He thought it was his duty.
“It’s really okay. I don’t need to go.”
“Too late. It’s settled. You two are going to that dance.”
I looked Matt in his blue eyes. “I am so sorry.”
“Yeah,” he said, looking away from me. “I see that.”
***
After Matt dropped me off at home, I tried to sneak up to my room without my family noticing. I made the landing and was in sight of my door when I heard my brother yelling, “Mom, she’s home!”
Great. I marched into my room and sl
ammed the door. The moms were going to push Matt away from me. Taking me to the dance was just asking too much. They were messing up our friendship, and I knew he didn’t want to take me. If he’d wanted to take me, he wouldn’t have said all that junk about being my only chance to go.
Mom rapped on the door.
“Come in, Mom.”
She peeked her head in first. “Are you still speaking to me?”
With a dramatic sigh, I said, “I suppose.”
Stepping into the room, she held her arms out and said, “I am so sorry. I never meant to embarrass you.”
“I know.” I wanted to stay mad at her, but I felt too crummy.
“Did the movie go okay?” she asked.
Movie? Oh, right. “Yes.”
“Good.”
“Mom,” I said. “He asked me to the dance, but I think he thought he had to. His mother was pressuring him also.”
“She was at the movie?”
Crud. “No. She texted him.”
Mom’s face turned from bright with excitement to creased with worry. “Oh, honey. I’m sorry you feel like he was forced into it. This should be an exciting time for you.”
She sat on my bed and put her arm around me. “Matt’s smart, right?”
“Of course.”
“Then, he probably could have found a way out of asking you if he had wanted to.”
If she knew the whole story, she might understand. I couldn’t tell her that he had to take me to prevent the possibility of the violent murder of another classmate. By me. “I’m not so sure,” I said.
“You are a beautiful girl, and any boy would be lucky to take you to that dance.”
“You’re my mother. You have to say that.”
“Okay, then.” She stood up. “I’m going downstairs. Have some faith in yourself.”
Faith in myself. Huh. If she only knew how much I was hiding from her, she wouldn’t have any faith in me.
“Oh,” she said and turned around. “Don’t forget that I’ll be there too.”
No freakin’ way. “No, Mom. No!”
“Why not?”
“It will be hard enough as it is! You have to promise not to chaperone. Or I won’t go.”
Mom grumbled under her breath for a few moments.
“Remember? You wanted a nice romantic date with Dad? To make up for New Year’s Eve.”
“Fine. I won’t go.”
“You’re the best, Mom.”
***
Mom woke me at the crack of dawn by opening the curtains in my room to let the glaring light attack me.