The Amaryllis

by Alyssa Adamson

  His hand fell back to his side. “How?”

  “Your name. What is it?

  “Phil—”

  “Your real name.”

  He chewed on his inner cheek, pupils darting between my eyes. Whatever he searched for, he gave up looking for it with a heavy grunt. “My name is Roland.”

  My surprise at his show of honesty robbed me of breath. Smile turning up, I leaned into him. “It’s a pleasure meeting you, Roland. I’m Edy.”

  14. Following

  “You ready?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You sure?”

  “No. Not even close.”

  Chaos had crept into the parking lot of our small school, bringing news vans and photographers and more than one reporter I recognized from morning television. The homeroom bell had come and gone but Zach and I still sat in the car, hands poised over the door handles to run.

  “They’re not going to bite you, Edy. What’re you worried about?”

  “I don’t know…” Will they notice just by looking at me that I can make things explode with my hands? “What if they want to talk to me? I’ll freeze. You know I will. I can’t handle crowds.” My breaths sped up into hyperventilation. I can’t keep a secret; they’re going to send me away for medical experimentation. “What if I end up on TV? I can’t work an extra ten pounds!”

  We both screamed at a knock against my window.

  Phil stood behind the glass, knuckles still raised. His blank gaze extended across the pavement, to a sharply-dressed woman with a microphone. I gulped. As much as I didn’t think Phil would scold me again, and risk my ire all over again, I couldn’t help but feel responsible.

  But I wouldn’t be known as a coward on top of whatever he thought of me for bringing potential exposure down on us. I rolled down the window. “Y…Yes?”

  “Good morning,” he retorted brusquely. “And good to see you back, Zach, I know Eden has been missing you terribly.”

  Zach’s fear melted away. He beamed up at Phil. “Thanks! What can I do you for, Phillip? An autograph? I’ll sign anything you want. First one’s free for friends!”

  “I appreciate the offer, but, actually, I’m here to ask Eden if she would like me to escort her to class?”

  My ginger stared up at him with mouth agape. I must’ve looked similar. “I told Zach I’d go with him—”

  “No!” Zach’s arm struck me across the chest with more force than he’d probably intended. “Go! We can catch up at lunch.”

  “That wouldn’t be right—”

  “Go! Maybe you’ll slide right by them if you hide behind that tall drink of water.”

  Phil opened my door, extending a hand that was bedecked in a gifted set of gloves. My gloves. I hesitated to take it. “I’ll see you at lunch?”

  “Yeah! Of course!” Zach winked. “You kids have fun.”

  Rather than being satisfied with just my hand, Phil fit my wrist into the crook of his arm, pulling me flush into his side. From an outside perspective, it looked much more romantic than I was prepared to let it feel. “What are you doing?”

  “Escorting a beautiful girl to Art Class.”

  I snorted. “No. Really. What are you doing?”

  He rushed ahead, head dipping to whisper in my ear, “If we look like the normal, high school couple, they won’t pay us any mind. If you were to walk in with Zach, you could make a spectacle of yourself.”

  That made more sense.

  “And here I thought you might be making a move on me.”

  “Is it working?”

  I snickered, looking around the parking lot at the stragglers, late to class because of the excitement. They stared between me and Phil.

  “People will say we’re in love,” I whispered.

  He apparently had no witty retort.

  The news vans outside derailed class. Mrs. Brown spent a great deal of her time with us touching up her makeup in case one of the cameras peered through her window. Second and third period saw similar distraction, whether because of our teachers’ vanity or because my classmates couldn’t be focused, it didn’t matter. Zach was the only thing anyone learned about.

  I had to wait for him come lunch; probably because he got sidetracked by adoring fans. Plopping down at our normal table, I sipped on water so I wouldn’t have to vomit. The prospect of being found out by an army of news staff outside didn’t sit well.

  And Phil’s arrival only made me feel guilty. I caught his eye immediately and felt his concern surge through me. For me? For himself? He got in line to buy food and I lost his gaze in the crowd.

  “So you’re dating Phillip Bronwyn, now?” Zach giggled, obstructing my view of the Bronwyn’s back. “When the hell did that happen?”

  I hushed him as harshly as I could, half-expecting Phil’s head to lift and his eyes to meet mine, hearing every word Zach said. Hopefully becoming a mortal had dulled his senses.

  “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  He frowned, as much as he was capable while still clearly on top of the world. “You seem glum, chum.” Falling into the seat across from me, he took my hands. The barest contact comforted me, warming me in a way that was completely unlike when I fed on the others—

  I jerked backward, hiding my hands under my armpits. Zach flinched, face falling.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  That little speck of red still sat in the blue of his eye. If I stared at it long enough, I swore it had grown a little bit larger. His fingers snapped before my face.

  “Ed? Hello?”

  “I’m sorry,” I countered. “I guess I’m just a little tired.”

  He waggled his brow, good mood already restored. “Why? What exactly were you doing with Mr. Bronwyn this morning?”

  I faced him down, lip quirking up into a smile against my will. It was still so hard to believe that he actually sat before me, looking so healthy. So alive. His skin practically glowed—

  Before the first tendrils of panic could slither into my gut, I shot down that incomprehensible image. My mind was running away with me again. He didn’t actually glow; that would make him an…

  “Some erotic hand-holding.”

  He fought the laugh that burst through his lips. “Good to know you’re using protection.”

  My worries melted away, mind straying to the easy joking. Besides, it felt good to talk to Zach about my predicament, even if he had no idea what I was really talking about. “Not enough protection.” Hiding my mouth behind my hand, I whispered, “No gloves.”

  “Careful, Edy, you’ll get warts—” Zach trailed off as a distant monotone rang in our ears. Rolling his eyes, he grunted, “What the hell is that?”

  The louder that noise grew, the easier it became to decipher that it was a car horn. The car in question rounded the street corner, racing into the parking lot like a bat out of hell. A line of vans and motorcycles and beat-up junkers followed. One pick-up truck looked like it had been white at one point, but, now, it had been painted over with an American flag and a mural of Zach’s face.

  “Holy crap,” I muttered.

  Zach leapt to his feet, already running toward the window. “Edy! Edy, do you see them?”

  I nodded, jaw dropped. How had they found—Never mind. Of course they found him. Our little town had been named on the news on more than one occasion and there were only so many high schools in the area.

  People abandoned their cars in droves, voices raised in indiscernible shouts. They looked barely older than us, hair long and unkempt and clothes stained from days and nights spent on the road. I couldn’t tell what they yelled when they all shrieked at once, but they looked pretty thrilled to be here.

  They looked from window to window to window, arms raised over their heads. As they found the cafeteria and peered through the glass, Zach waved to them.

  They instantly went berserk.

  Arms thrown over their heads, they flailed for his attention, or they prayed, or they sang. They screamed different th
ings but the name they threw in between psalms was always the same: Zach, Zach, Zach.

  I’d never seen my friend smile so wide. “They’re here to see me.” He laughed, waving me closer. “Come look! Come look!”

  I couldn’t help but laugh along with him, staggering to my feet. Before I even made it to the window, he enveloped me in a hug that almost put my nose to the glass and jumped with uncontained happiness.

  “Oh my god, this is awesome!”

  I narrowed my eyes out at the mob. “Bunch of crackpots. Where do you think they came from?”

  “I’m famous! They’re going to put me in movies. Could you help me write a book?”

  “A book about what?”

  “Back from the Dead: A Zach Ferguson Story. They’d buy it!”

  I didn’t doubt it, but I knew he would never follow through. His attention span was too short. Even now, he’d already released me, pressing himself flat against the window.

  “You’re looking too available. They’ll lose interest,” I grinned.

  He waved me off. In other words, shut up.

  Around us, others got up to run to the window. Their amusement carried through the air, strong in their numbers, but not strong enough to mask that one person among the masses didn’t share in the enthusiasm.

  I looked back at the table in the front, meeting Phil’s stare. His face reflected the anxiety oozing off him in waves. My smile slipped.

  Around me, the sounds of the cafeteria easily overshadowed Zach’s ceaseless babble. As people noticed the commotion outside, they flocked to the windows and joined in on the excitement. When the bell rang, releasing us to fifth period, I had to pull him bodily into the hallway.

  “We should ditch! I bet you I could get them to buy us dinner. Friday’s sounds pretty good right now. Get our boneless wings on.”

  I shook with nervous laughter. “It can’t wait until the end of the day?” As much as I knew my mind shouldn’t shift to him, I couldn’t help but remember Phil. Remember he’d be expecting me.

  And I knew he wouldn’t like this.

  “I’m practically a celebrity around here. They’ve got me in the suspension room for all my classes. What do I need school for?”

  “Maybe not you, but I’m still a lowly peasant. I need options!”

  He rolled his eyes. “Don’t lie, Edy. If you didn’t think you’d get caught, you’d walk out today and never come back.”

  I bit my lip.

  “Glad you agree. Now get in the car. I’ve got disciples outside and I don’t want to make them wait any longer!”

  Seizing me by the wrist, he hauled me into the mass of people going from class to class, integrating us into the crowd. To any of the teachers supervising beside their doors, we didn’t look any different from the rest, which had to be Zach’s intention. He kept his head high, smile bright, but I couldn’t look away from the floor.

  He jerked away from the mass, throwing himself through the door and I fell through right after.

  Zach’s face set off a chain reaction through the group convened around the grounds. They shrieked like they’d come to see a celebrity, running ahead to hug him, shake his hand, kiss his cheeks.

  His eyes widened, grin growing steadily wider as he absolutely preened at the attention.

  And while I wanted to feel as excited as he did, I couldn’t shake the dread. I gripped his shoulder, pulling in vain. “Z…Zach?”

  He glanced at me. Taking in the chalky exterior of my face, he rolled his eyes fondly and threw an arm over my back. “Come on, Edy. Lighten up! Can’t you feel the good vibes?”

  More than he realized. Excitement wafted off their group like a thick steam, so palpable I could practically see it rising over their heads. Letting myself be absorbed into their merriment would’ve been only too easy.

  But I was hungry.

  The hands flailing about around me came too close. If I reached out, I could seize one easily and pull at the life essence of whatever Tom, Dick, or Harry had crossed my path. The image even came to mind as clear as crystal. I would smile, maybe bat my eyelashes, and flaunt how well I knew Zach to make myself more enticing. One of these greasy-haired strangers would be hard-up enough from driving so long to be flattered. I would ask him to follow me somewhere.

  Somewhere no one would see.

  “Ed? You okay?”

  The sudden bursting of my reverie gave me a start. Zach looked down at me with concern while I stared out across the crowd, probably assuming that the hardened look on my face had something to do with my aversion to crowds.

  I dropped my head, face reddening with shame. It shouldn’t have taken so long to pull myself from a daydream like that. It was everything I’d preached against. Stealing. Lying.

  Murder.

  Because it would’ve been murder. Never once in all my fantasizing had it even occurred to me that I could stop.

  And I didn’t even feel bad about it. I felt bad that I’d been caught.

  “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. I don’t think I should go, though. You know crowds aren’t really my thing.”

  “Come on, E’! When are we going to get another opportunity like this?” He leaned in, breath hissing over my ear, “It’s only fifteen minutes. Enjoy it.”

  I looked across the sea of faces and knew I should not. Restraint was hard enough out in the open; the prospect of close quarters with their jubilance made my stomach turn. My skin prickled in anticipation. “But I’m not even hungry.”

  “Come anyway. I bet I could get them to buy you a big girl drink!”

  Foreign arms grabbed at me, urging me down the steps to the soundtrack of inaudible cries. The words may have become a jumbled mess as they spoke over each other, but the tone was always the same: come, join us, be happy.

  I couldn’t argue.

  But that didn’t mean I had to participate.

  Maybe weeks ago, I might’ve been cautious about getting into a van full of complete strangers. What teenage girl wouldn’t? Today, I was afraid for a much different reason. I feared for them.

  They stuffed me into the very backseat, shoulders squished between the bodies of two hippies, who relished in the close company of another two hippies. The smell hanging in the air stunk of exactly what I would’ve expected: sweat, and dirt, and marijuana. The last surprised me; at least one of them had to be tripping on something harder. The girl to my right stared down at me with pupils like dinner plates, bare arms rubbing over my thick sweater while I hid my hands between my knees.

  She talked a lot.

  Zach sat a row ahead of me, equally as compressed in the overstuffed car. His neighbors talked a lot, too, but, even worse than that, they liked to touch him. His hands, his knees, his face. While we drove, I kept an eye on them.

  He might’ve been of the carefree type, but anyone would’ve grown tired of dirty fingers running circles into their face. But the moment never came that Zach brushed them off. They would’ve listened if he had. His face turned even more euphoric, eyes widening, pupils dilating, with each lingering touch.

  And the mortals’ hands pulsed. The blue of their veins grew more prominent against their skin.

  I kicked the back of Zach’s seat, forcing him up and around and away from their contact. “What the hell, Edy?” He grinned despite his narrowed eyes.

  “Sorry,” I replied. “Stiff.”

  The thought of feeding as freely as he did made me salivate more than boneless wings ever had.

  The van rumbled to life. On Zach’s slurred instructions, they followed the main road into the next town over, toward the Friday’s. The girl beside me droned on through the whole ride and I smiled and nodded along in all the right places, eyes directed out the window so she wouldn’t notice that every look I sent her way was starved.

  Not that she would notice through whatever drugs had her tripping so hard.

  “It’s just really cool to be in the same car as Jesus,” she trilled. “I’ve always known that he would come back. Mom told
me and she was right.” Without missing a beat, she turned to me. “How did you even end up making friends with the savior? You must be really awesome!”

  I nodded along. Sure.

  She clung to my side even after we left the van, tempting me while we waited in the lobby for the staff to put together accommodations for ten. She even ordered my barbecue wings for me, although she was the first to scoop one up when they arrived.

  Zach lounged across the opposite side of the table. Both hands nursed drinks I was sure he’d never tried before and probably didn’t like, since they remained full. The rest of them fell over themselves to order him more drinks while they gorged themselves on long island iced teas and cheeseburgers.

  My eye fell on the girl’s hand as it came across a napkin on the table. With painful slowness, she lifted it to her mouth to dab sauce away from her lip. I blinked, turning her from a person of freckled skin and matted curls into a network of glowing veins, pulsing life through her body. Life I wanted to taste.

  It would be only too easy. Should I reach out and let my hand brush against hers, she wouldn’t think anything malicious of it. She might not even notice. And then if my thumb ran over her lip, clearing the debris of a fallen chicken wing, she would even thank me, never once suspecting that I’d sucked five years off her lifespan in a matter of seconds.

  No. Thank you.

  I bit my tongue, the taste of blood bringing me around to reality. Guilty eyes fell from her lip to the plate before me, onto an especially saucy bite of chicken. Somewhere in my daydreaming, my arm had lifted, fingers clenched around the edge of the table. A hand-shaped imprint remained in the wood.

  I shot to my feet. “I…I have to go to the bathroom!”

  I didn’t know if they heard me. They gave no inclination either way, not even when I sprinted in the direction opposite the bathroom. The host couldn’t open the door fast enough before I threw myself against the glass and into the cold.

  Breathing deeply of the untainted air, my heart gradually slowed. It was okay. Everything was fine. It wasn’t a crime to have unscrupulous thoughts. I only had to feel ashamed if I acted on them, and I’d been very good. I hadn’t touched anyone.