The Amaryllis

by Alyssa Adamson

  I chewed on the inside of my cheek. Something about that didn’t sit right, but what alternative was there to spout? Was I really considering telling him to feed on an innocent to have more guaranteed time? I made myself sick. “That’s all? Because I told you to?”

  “There are plenty of reasons.”

  “You’re going to have to do better than that, Phil,” I scoffed. At his hesitation, I continued, “I haven’t been able to shut you up these last few days and you’re going to hold back on me now? That’s hardly fair.”

  “I don’t want to drive you away.”

  I sighed. The sad truth of it was, I didn’t know if he could drive me away. “I think you’re overestimating how scary you are.”

  His face darkened. The hand that had grasped my arm so firmly slipped away. “I’ve done terrible things, Eden. Things I would need more than a mortal lifespan to repent for.”

  Shifting under the sudden tension, I managed to snicker. “If it’s your birthday, the tradition is that I should give you a gift.” Nevertheless, I extended my hand to take the packet from him. Phil didn’t look at it as he ripped the packet open and spilled the seeds onto his palm. “Oh. Thank you.” I didn’t want to think of how I’d be transporting them now, but I imagined Phil’s floor would be getting more of the gift than me.

  He smirked, eyes shutting. And we waited.

  At first, I didn’t know what we were waiting for. The little black specks just sat there, unmoving and unexciting.

  “What’re you—?”

  It started slowly. The first one split on its own, making way for a little green stalk that wove its way skyward. The others followed shortly after, tangling in the stalks of their neighbors and Phil’s fingers until they convened in little pink bulbs at the top.

  He released a long exhale. I might’ve been mistaken, but I thought I saw the glimmer of sweat shine off his face.

  My jaw hit the floor. “Wow. That’s amazing—”

  He shook his head and I went silent. Brow creasing with frustration, he grunted and the bulbs opened into fantastically eloquent layers of pink petals that came so close they brushed my nose with their silky flesh.

  “Camellias. Have you ever heard of them?” he inquired.

  I shook my head. “No. What do they mean?”

  “Not a clue.”

  I took the bounty he offered, clinging carefully to the delicate roots that wound around my hands. So beautiful. So unlike any of the flowers of home. “They’re gorgeous.”

  “Better than the roses?”

  “Them’s is fighting words, Bronwyn.”

  He snickered. “That’s okay. I wouldn’t expect it of you.”

  I let my fingers probe the stem, still half-positive I would find the flowers to be plastic, or mechanical. Maybe they’d been programmed to grow in a warm palm. But a single touch of velvety soft petals brought me up short. “How did you do it?”

  “It’s hard to heal humans. Plants, not so much.” He rubbed his temple. “Hurts a bit, though.”

  Lowering my head to the flowers, I inhaled the mild scent of lemons. The roses smelled better, the roses looked better, but I thought Camellias might’ve actually become my favorite, simply by manner of delivery. “They’re way better than the roses.”

  “Hmm…bedroom fun, Phil?” the towering body rounded the doorway with snake-like grace. “You know how much I hate not getting an invite.”

  My instincts told me to run, like they always did when Gregory was too close. “Slither back to whatever pit you came from, Gregory. There’s nothing here for you.”

  “You ought to feel honored. Phil’s never brought anyone home to see the family. Especially not so late. So close to sunset.”

  Phil perked up. “Oh no. Oh no, what time is it?”

  Gregory made a flourishing motion with his fingers. “Too late.” And then he vanished, continuing on his way down the hall. “Night night, lovebirds.”

  Phil hissed profanity under his breath, grabbing for the keys in his back pocket. “We have to go.” He stood in a flourish, starting for the door. The sound of the steel door beside ours closing with a loud metallic shriek echoed down the hall.

  Phil only whispered. “No.”

  In mid-step, his leg ceased motion. Under his clothes, the glowing expanse of his bare skin turned grey from the tips of his fingers and up.

  I floundered wordlessly. “What is—how—what’s wrong—Phil?”

  He offered a soft, reassuring smile. “It is alright, E—” Then his face turned a similar grey, his lip froze, and nothing of Phil remained but a statue.

  I flung myself toward him, reaching out with reluctant fingers to probe the stone his skin had become. “Oh my god.” Knocking my knuckles against his nose, I couldn’t help but cringe back.

  Still warm.

  16. Trouble

  “What the hell?” I demanded, tapping at the statue’s knees with my shoe. It didn’t shock me that no response came in return. “What the hell!”

  His stone face bared its teeth, eternally halfway through my name.

  “Is…is this a trick, Phil?”

  It couldn’t be. I’d seen it happen before my eyes, what more did I want? The sun had set. And he’d…turned to stone. Demons turned to stone.

  I wish I could’ve had some explanation for that!

  At least now I could see what he meant by vulnerable. It definitely had to put them in a less than ideal position that creatures with god-like powers could be bested by a hammer in the night.

  Sprinting for the exit, I slammed the door shut so it would lock us in.

  Then, faced with what I’d done, I couldn’t help the sudden wash of regret. So I’d locked us in, protecting Phil from whatever forces he worried would come and get him after sunset. Now what?

  I tested the handle: unforgiving steel.

  I’d done it now.

  By my calculation, it had to be fourteen hours until sunrise, which made for a long time without space to walk, without a ride home, without a bathroom. I instantly regretted the thought. My bladder screamed with the sudden need to pee.

  Gathering up the copy of Julius Caesar, I picked up where Phil had left off and threw myself onto the couch. Beating the brand-new cushions until they molded to my back, I got comfortable. No matter how long I laid there, though, the more I knew for a fact that the night would not go pleasantly.

  Between bouts of Shakespeare, I slept. Between periods of rest, I walked, stretched, tried yoga, and played a rudimentary game of hopscotch. I swore I was already halfway to the point of madness when I heard the first crack. Just the lightest change from silence to something…else. And in the screaming lack of sound in my ears, I thought I might’ve imagined it, until it came again.

  Shards of stone fell away from Phil’s figure in growing pieces strewn across the floor. With the more important pieces gone, namely around his legs, he shook himself clean of the rest like a dog, hands going to his hair to free it, neck moving to and fro with a sigh.

  I snapped the book shut.

  Phil spun, face unrecognizable in shock. Clearly whatever state he’d been in had made him forget that I’d been here at all. “Eden. You stayed.”

  “Not my most intelligent of moments, I’ll admit.”

  The little smile I thought I’d seen inching its way onto his face crumpled. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m sure you were very uncomfortable with me last night.”

  “Just in my bladder.”

  “Oh. Oh.” He reached for me, arm circling my back to pull me up. “I’m sorry. I haven’t taken into account your human needs, have I?”

  “Let me guess. No bathroom?”

  “We do,” he led me into the hall and toward the stairs. “We had one put in f…for Lily.”

  “Oh what a beautiful morning,” another voice sang down the hall. The playful tenor reverberated against the wall. “Oh what a beautiful day. I’ve got a beautiful feeling!”

  As much as I knew it was the wrong thing to
do, I glanced over my shoulder at Gregory. He leaned heavily against the wall with hand in his hair and boxer shorts hanging low on his hips. It didn’t shock me one bit that his shirtless figure rippled with muscle.

  He caught my eye with a smile. “Everything’s going my way.”

  I snapped back to the forefront. On my left, Lily’s door still hung open, although the girl herself remained absent. In the spirit of forgetting that image, I cleared my throat and muttered, “Where is she?”

  He followed my gaze. “Lily’s a free spirit. She goes where she wants. Sometimes she doesn’t come home at all.”

  “Isn’t that…dangerous? I mean, if a statue keeps appearing and disappearing around town, people are going to notice.”

  “Lily doesn’t change anymore. Being so weak now, she just…sleeps when the desire strikes her. Like a human.”

  “But there’s no bed.”

  “There’s a floor.”

  I winced, imagining how my night would’ve gone had it been the floor under my back and not the firm cushions of Phil’s couch. “That must be…uncomfortable.”

  “I’ve never asked.”

  The sky was only barely pink on our way to the car. Just like every other time, he opened the door for me, waiting until I’d folded myself into the passenger’s seat before he rounded the hood.

  “To school?” I inquired.

  He cast me a look of amusement. “I figured you might want a change of clothes first. We’ll stop off at your house.”

  That made a lot of sense. I was probably starting to stink something terrible. A trip home would definitely be of great benefit—

  All thought ground to a screeching halt.

  Home. That place I slept every night. That place where my parents lived. That place that I hadn’t gone back to last night.

  “Oh my god,” I hissed.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Oh my god. Oh my god. My parents are going to kill me!” While he stared at me, jaw ajar, I pointed ahead. “Drive, Phil!”

  He obliged, foot bearing down on the pedal until it struck the floor. “Kill you? Why are they going to kill you?”

  “What do you mean? I stayed out all night without calling. They’re probably worried sick.”

  Phil closed in on the store quickly, but not quick enough. The light shined through the windows despite the early hour. It was probably too much to hope for that they were only just waking up.

  “Do you want me to go in with you?”

  I shook my head and gulped back the frog in my throat. “No. It’s probably better if you get out of here.”

  He looked about to protest.

  “Please, just go. I can handle it.”

  After a long beat of hesitation, he nodded. “I can be back to get you in thirty seconds. Just call.”

  “Trust me, I’ll be dead and buried by then.”

  He winced. “I do hope you’re joking.”

  “Maybe.” Throwing the door open, I took off across the parking lot and stopped short before the front door. Unlocked. On the tips of my toes, I stepped inside.

  Both sets of eyes locked on me: one from Mom, who’d clearly only recently gotten over a crying fit, and one from Dad, who stood against the register with head in his hands. Sleep deprivation had taken all youth from his face.

  Though they looked me over all the while I shut the door behind me, no one said a thing.

  “H…hi.”

  Dad stood to his full height like a snake uncoiling to strike. He spoke in a deathly calm voice. “Where the hell have you been?”

  I glanced at each of their faces, shrinking. “I…I…”

  “How did you expect us to sleep last night, Eden?” Mom breathed. “I thought…I thought something terrible happened to you. You could’ve been kidnapped! You could’ve been dead! I had your father out combing the streets looking for you until three a.m.”

  “Where the hell have you been?”

  I kicked at a stray piece of mulch lying on the floor, unable to meet their eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you worry—”

  “You thought we’d be cool with you staying out all night?” Dad growled. “What would ever make you think that?”

  “No, I didn’t think you’d be cool with it. I just…I—”

  “It’s not like this is the first thing that’s been concerning us, ‘D. You’ve been awfully distant these last few weeks. Ever since Zach was in that accident,” Mom added. A thought struck her. “Are you on drugs?”

  Dad’s fists clenched. “Drugs, ‘D? I swear to God if I find one needle, one blunt, one spoon in your bedroom, I will bury you in the yard where no one will find you!”

  “I’m not on drugs!”

  “Then what is it?”

  “It’s…it’s…”—it’s my blossoming demonic powers taking priority over silly mortal problems— “it’s a…guy.”

  Their faces erupted in similar looks of shock and relief. Mom recovered faster. “Oh. You’ve been hanging out with a boy?”

  “Not having sex with him, right? Because I swear to God, Eden, I will bury you in the yard where no one will find you!”

  I only wished the issue was sex. It seemed so comparatively simple. “I’m not having sex. I just…I like spending time with him. I’m sorry I worried you. I fell asleep at his house, but I swear that’s all we did. Sleep.”

  “At his house alone?” Dad demanded.

  “Come on, Callum, it was bound to happen sometime. She’s a teenager, it’s what teenagers do, isn’t it?”

  “Kate! Please!”

  She threw her hand over her heart, sighing loudly. “I’m just so glad you’re not on crack or something. You are using protection, though. Right, honey? We really can’t handle a baby around here.”

  “Mom,” I frowned, nausea pooling in my gut.

  “Just making sure. I don’t want to be one of those Moms that pretends it’s not happening. I want to be proactive. Do you need pills? Condoms? I’ll buy them for you.”

  “Kate!”

  “I don’t need pills—”

  “Well you’ve got to use something. I heard about some stick they’ll put in your arm. That sounds pretty convenient—”

  “I’m not having sex!” I cried. They both went quiet, staring at me expectantly. Shrinking under their stare, I stammered, “I love him.”

  The words choked me up like a mouthful of dust. They hadn’t even crossed my mind before they rolled off my tongue, but that didn’t stop the horror building up behind my face. My skin burned hot.

  Dad rolled his eyes, turning toward the staircase. “I’ve got to get some sleep. You talk to her.”

  For all of Dad’s disapproval, Mom bounced on the balls of her feet. “Honey, that’s great! Is he a nice boy? What’s his name?”

  “Phil?”

  I hardly listened to her. My mind was in turmoil, demanding its own answers. I loved Phil? Since when?

  Thinking back on the whole of our friendship, I couldn’t pinpoint an instance that stood out. I couldn’t think of a word that would breach the boundary of friendship. But, under careful speculation, I felt the tendrils of love seize my chest like tentacles. I hadn’t always loved him, no.

  But I most assuredly did now.

  The need to see him, to hold him, gripped me as nothing ever had before. The picture of my family in this room, the people I loved more than any others, suddenly felt incomplete, devoid of Phil’s presence.

  “Oh my god. You mean hot Phil. The same Phil who picked you up in a killer Mustang? That Phil?”

  My throat left on vacation to the Sahara. I nodded.

  “Good for you, honey! Now there’s a catch!”

  Yeah. It would’ve been. Assuming, of course, that Phil felt anything for me in return, which was the most preposterous thing I could think of. What brief euphoria I thought I’d felt at the realization that I was well and truly in love for the first time crashed and burned.

  What would a man who’d lived forever want with m
e? Aside from what superpowers he’d given me, I didn’t have much to offer. In days past, I couldn’t remember even being very nice to him.

  “Mom, I…I’ve got to get to school,” I rushed by her, shaking my head to throw away the insecurities creeping in at the seams.

  “Oh come on, you’ve been gone all night and you can’t spare five minutes with your mother. I’m cool, Eden! I’m with the times! What other mothers do you know like that?”

  I lost her calls behind the stairwell door and my pounding feet on the steps.

  Zach’s newly inherited white car pulled into the parking lot when I would’ve expected: late. Still, at least he came alone. “Where the hell did you go yesterday, chica? You missed dessert. One of the girls told the staff it was my birthday. We got sparklers and everything!”

  I pulled myself into the passenger’s seat, hugging my bag against the cold. It had to be just my imagination that I couldn’t feel the heat streaming in through the vents. The Mustang had been so much warmer.

  “Sorry, but when Dad calls, I must answer.”

  “Hmm, that’s not what I heard,” he replied with lips pursed. From behind the dark panes of his sunglasses, an eyebrow rose.

  “Oh yeah, what’d you hear?”

  “I heard from a very reliable source that my companion raced out of the restaurant to hop into a black Mustang with one hot blonde.” As he pulled out of the parking lot, he held his chin in the hand that didn’t grip the wheel. “Now how many hot blondes do we know with black Mustangs? Not many, I assume. In fact, only one comes to mind.”

  I chewed on my tongue. “Your source was mistaken.”

  “You mean to tell me that you did not run off into the sunset last night with Phil Bronwyn?”

  I shifted uncomfortably closer to the wall. A muscle knotted itself in my behind. “I don’t mean to say those words…exactly…”

  He erupted with a smile, hands clapping together so the wheel went unattended. “I knew it! I knew it. You’re sneaking around with Phil. Are you a couple yet? Or are you going to insist on disappointing me?”

  Something panged at my heartstrings. Something unfamiliar. “Nope. You’re still going to be disappointed.”