by K J Sutton
More time passes. Every night, Noah appears at the warehouse just as I’m about to begin my shift. He makes his suggestive comments and biting remarks as we search the tunnels for any supposed weaknesses. Then, just as the other workers come off the elevator, finished with their shifts, he dismisses me. Usually by saying something degrading about me or Drew.
I begin to dread when the city goes to bed—bad dreams follow me into sleep, making it impossible to ever feel rested and whole. Every time I shut them, visions of Lucas flash across my eyelids. The shock on his face and then the emptiness in his eyes. I can’t escape it.
On Saturday afternoon, I’m tossing and turning in bed again. After a few hours, I lay awake and staring at the ceiling as moonlight dances across it. The cat is fast asleep at my feet and the sound of boarders downstairs is a constant hum. I close my eyes, only to open them a second later.
I hear footsteps approach before Drew knocks on the door. “I’m still sleeping,” I mutter, rolling toward the wall. A moment later, the hinges whine as he cracks the door open and sticks his head inside.
“Get up, pretty girl,” Drew says. His tone is as chipper as a clown at a birthday party—I hate clowns. “Every day is a learning experience, so why not learn something new every day?”
“Don’t you mean ‘night’?” I grouse. “And I’m not a girl, Drew.”
He doesn’t say anything. The air is so still that I can hear a candy wrapper skittering across the floor, caught by a draft. “Plus, I’m not wearing pants,” I add.
“Well, you can walk around downstairs without any pants, but the others might look at you funny.” Drew’s expression is playful, but his tone is firm—he isn’t going to let me wallow in a swamp of self-pity. When I don’t say anything, though, Drew sits on the end of the bed. “Come on, Charlie. You can’t stay up here all night. It’s not going to help.”
Rolling onto my back, I sit up and look at him. “What’s in it for me?”
He arches a brow at me and grins softly. “Popcorn and a movie?”
I purse my lips and pretend to consider it. “Yeah, okay.”
“Excellent. See you downstairs in a few,” he says.
Once Drew is gone, I drag myself out of bed, pull on a pair of gray sweatpants, and make my way to the bathroom. There’s a strange smell in the air as I step over the threshold. Clarissa, no doubt—she puts salt on all the windowsills and burns sage to ward off evil spirits. Holding my breath, I dry my hands, open the door, and head down to the parlor. I’m surprised to see someone has set up a projector screen above the fireplace.
“What are we watching?” I ask, walking over and dropping onto the couch.
“I’m thinking something funny,” Drew comments.
“That sounds really nice. Hey, where is everyone?”
“A bunch of them are still sleeping, and I think Nina went to see her mystery man a couple hours ago.” Drew finishes setting up the movie and tosses a remote on the coffee table in front of me. “I’ll be right back with snacks.”
As he leaves, I hear a second set of footsteps and realize Ada is walking around in the other room, singing under her breath. I listen carefully, trying to place the song, but Drew comes back with the popcorn and plops down next to me. His sleeve brushes my bare arm. “Hey, Charlie. What do you get when you cross a snowman and a vampire?” he chirps.
I roll my eyes with a smile. “I don’t know. Please tell me.”
“Frostbite.”
I shake my head as Drew presses the PLAY button on the remote. The previews begin, and it’s immediately obvious the room has too much light. I lean over to switch the lamp off.
“Much better,” I murmur, settling back into my spot. I can feel Drew’s eyes on me, watching me, but I keep my own on the screen. He’ll see the shadow of apprehension in them, I know it—Drew sees everything.
As the movie goes on, he runs his finger up and down my arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Nervous and aching, I listen for any sounds from Ada. For once, we seem to be alone. Though I keep my eyes firmly on the screen in front of us, I allow myself to relax.
No words are exchanged—we ask permission through glances and cautious touches. We strain to stay quiet as we begin our exploration of each other.
Soon, though, the stolen touches and delicate kisses aren’t enough. I shift so my back is against Drew’s chest, tipping my head, and in the same moment, he dips his face and seals his mouth over mine. My nerve endings crackle, my heart pounds, and I kiss him back even though I know we shouldn’t do this. Drew makes a soft sound at the back of his throat. My pulse is singing with electricity as my lips part to let him in. Instead, he pulls back just enough to trail his lips along my jaw, peppering soft kisses against my skin.
The longer we sit there, the bolder Drew becomes. His fingers slide along the band of my borrowed pajama shorts, tickling the taut skin of my stomach. Within seconds, those mischievous fingers are moving up the inside of my leg. It feels like I haven’t been touched like this in months, and all I can think about is more. More of Drew. More of his lips. More of his bold fingers.
I’m turning on the couch, on the verge of grabbing his shirt and yanking him to me, when the floor shudders with footsteps. Drew quickly pulls his hand out of my shorts and puts some space between us, his expression a picture of casual boredom. I swallow, then swallow again, thinking I should get a glass of water from the kitchen.
I realize that my tank top is practically twisted around my neck. As I rush to fix it, my lips still tingle from the pressure of Drew’s. I feel winded, breathless, like I just ran for miles and miles and miles. Not even Cain made me feel this flustered.
When Benjamin appears in the doorway, I speak without thinking. “We’re sorry!”
Drew releases a mournful sigh. “No, Charlie, you say sorry after you get caught. Hey, Ben. Your timing is the worst, man.”
Yawning, Benjamin turns around and creaks his way into the kitchen. Though he doesn’t seem to care about what he just interrupted, I’m blushing so hard that it feels like a fever. “I’m going to hurt you,” I say from the corner of my mouth.
“You could never hurt me,” Drew murmurs. “You like me too much.”
I can’t stop my voice from thickening as I murmur back, “Fine. You got me.”
Drew’s eyes darken. Thankfully, in the next breath, Benjamin is back in the room. He drops into the armchair, shoving some popcorn into his mouth, and chews with his mouth open.
Hoping to diffuse the bomb ticking between me and Drew, I clear my throat. “Hey, Ben, if you want to change the movie, feel free. I’ll probably fall asleep no matter what we watch.”
“You’ll fall asleep?” Benjamin echoes, already reaching for the remote. “Why?”
I lift my shoulder in a lazy shrug. “Movies do that to me. Same with car rides. It’s just how my brain works.”
Unless I’m making out with Drew Hayes, I think. Heat spreads through my face, and I pretend to be absorbed in the credits.
Without fail, though, after five minutes of the horror movie Benjamin puts on, I’m dozing off in Drew’s arms.
Get it out of my sight. Alexander Travesty’s words are a sharp as a whip and inflict the same amount of pain. The morning of my Awakening plays on a loop, tormenting me from my own subconscious, and there’s nothing I can do to escape it.
A chilling scream shakes me awake, and my heart launches against my chest until I realize where I am. The scream came from the movie still playing, but Benjamin is no longer in the room with us. The smell of popcorn permeates the air and my fingers, slick with artificial butter, still rest in the popcorn bowl. Blushing, I quickly pull them out.
Drew lifts his hand to my face and brushes his fingers across my cheek, thumbing away a tear that must’ve slipped out. It glitters on his skin like the smallest of diamonds. “You okay?”
I want to turn away, wanting hide my sadness for fear of passing it on to him. “Yeah, I’m fine,” I croak.
&n
bsp; For a few seconds, Drew is quiet. He’s probably thinking that I cry more than any other person he’s met. “Being a vampire really sucks, huh?” he says at last, his voice gently teasing.
I blink at him. “You did not just go there.”
Now a faint grin curves his lips. “I did.”
Without thinking about it, I go for his ribs with my fingers, knowing this is where most people are weakest. Just as I hope, Drew crumples at the touch, shouting with desperate laughter. I start laughing, too, thinking that if life was a series of snapshots I could keep or throw away, I would want this moment to be one. So I could take it out again and again and remember.
And, as Drew retaliates, his sweet breath heating my face, I realize that I’ve found something I never knew I was looking for.
The grandfather clock chimes, informing everyone in Ada’s rickety house that it’s three in the morning. I see Benjamin and Clarissa stir from their spot in front of the projector screen. My mind turns to thoughts of bed and dreamless sleep.
But as credits climb the screen—I have no clue how many movies we’ve watched—I catch the others exchanging looks. “What’s going on?” I murmur to Drew.
“Want to play a game?” he asks. I give him a curious look, but caution keeps me silent as I think of how Henry liked to play games. Seeing my expression, Drew adds, “It’s called Chicken.”
I wait a beat, but Drew just grins. “I’m going to need a little more information,” I inform him, resisting the urge to cast a wistful glance toward the stairs. Toward bed.
“Oh, come on. Live a little, Charlie. You trust me, don’t you?”
“This better be good,” I mutter as we get off the couch and head for the front door, pausing to pull on our boots. Clarissa and Benjamin do the same.
Garrett appears suddenly, sliding down the wooden banister and hopping off the end. “Where are you going?” he asks eagerly.
“I’m going to show Charlie how to play Chicken,” Drew tells him with a wink.
Garrett’s eyes light up. “What is that? Can I come?”
“Quiet!” Clarissa hisses, darting a glare at Drew. “Ada is sleeping. And no, you’re too young, little man. Ask again in a couple years.”
Grumbling under his breath, Garret’s scrawny shoulders slump and he walks back toward the stairs. Once he’s gone, Benjamin turns to me and says, “You’ll love it, Charlie. The rush is insane.”
Clarissa snorts. “Yeah. If she survives.”
“Ignore her,” Drew interjects, pulling on his jacket.
I follow suit, stealing a suspicious glance at him. “You better not be screwing with me, Andrew Hayes, or you’ll regret it.”
He grins. I watch his gaze dart to the others, making sure their eyes are elsewhere, before he drops a quick kiss atop my head. “Relax, Charlie. I’ve got your back. Always.”
My cheeks are suddenly hot, and I turn my face away as we head out the front door, the evening air cooling my flushed skin.
I follow Drew, Clarissa, and Benjamin off the porch. We walk seven blocks before turning off into a wooded area, marked only by a small, wooden sign that reads, Calyape Park. The sharp scent of liquor tickets my nose, and I turn to see Clarissa tipping a metal canister back and taking a swig.
“What do you got there?” Drew asks. “More importantly, are you going to share?”
Clarissa rolls her eyes but hands it over, and Drew takes a drink before passing it to me. “Is this what high school would’ve been like?” I ask, smiling.
“You wish you were this cool in school,” he quips, taking another drink and waving the canister at me.
“I was taught by a private tutor,” I inform him primly, grabbing the canister and taking a quick drink. The liquor explodes on my tongue, burning my throat as it goes down, and warms my stomach.
“Oh, much cooler,” Clarissa teases as she steals the canister back. I smile at her.
The farther we go into the woods, the more we’re all feeling the effect of drinking from Clarissa’s smuggled bottle. Drew stumbles but manages to catch himself before tripping into a tree. Clarissa and I burst into a fit of giggles, and Benjamin pulls out his phone and starts recording us.
Now that we’ve gone so far from the boardinghouse, I decide to try again. “So… where are we going?”
“We’re almost there,” Benjamin tells me, offering a smile when I glance sideways at him. I exhale heavily, and my breath fogs the darkness in front of me. A few minutes later, the trees break and we’re standing near a set of train tracks.
Confusion floods through me. “Are we going to ride the supply train?”
In response to this, Clarissa marches over to the tracks and hops onto them. “Watch, learn, and whatever you do, don’t tell Ada what you’re about to see,” she calls, darting a glance at Benjamin, and suddenly her feelings toward him are obvious.
“What the hell?” I breathe. “You guys can’t be—”
A distant train whistle cuts me off, filling the cold night air. My gaze narrows at the bright headlights, barreling closer with each second. Clarissa is staring hard at the approaching train, a determined look on her face, and her lips curve into a wicked grin.
I step forward to pull her off, but Drew snakes his arm around my waist and hauls me back. His lips brush the shell of my ear, shooting tingles across my skin. “She knows what she’s doing.”
“She’s going to get herself killed,” I hiss.
Another blare from the train drowns out Drew’s response. My heart hammers in my chest as Clarissa bounces on her heels but makes no attempt to get off the tracks. The train is a handful of yards away now and I’m practically vibrating against Drew with nervous energy.
“Just wait. You’ll get it after you’ve had a turn.”
My heart stalls. “There is no way in hell—”
Clarissa lets out an ecstatic shout as she dives away, seconds from being obliterated by the train. She tucks and rolls away on the opposite side of the track, and the air is filled with her laughter and the sound Benjamin hooting and hollering at her. He shakes her shoulders in camaraderie when she hops back to our side of the tracks. As she beams at him with such glowing adoration that I don’t know how I missed it before, Benjamin steps up next.
“Got your text!” an unfamiliar voice calls out, and I whip around to see the redheaded guy from Rowan’s jogging toward us. Simon, Drew had said his name was, and I’m guessing the human with him is his girlfriend, Saffron.
“Thanks for the head’s up,” Simon says to Drew as soon as he’s within earshot.
“Welcome to the party, man. Hey, Saff,” Drew adds, and the girl smiles at him, offering a quick wave.
“Ben’s about to shit himself,” Clarissa hollers, and we all turn our attention to the track. The dark-skinned boy is shaking, but other than that, he shows no signs of “chickening out”, as Drew puts it. For the second time, I watch as a train races toward one of my housemates, and he stands on the track as long as he possibly can. Benjamin doesn’t last as long as Clarissa did, but he sure as hell lasts longer than I would.
This all feels like a dream—a stark, cold, frightening dream—as I watch these humans risk their lives. One by one, they wait on the night-covered gravel and taunt the trains that eventually come. I can sense their adrenaline, but I can’t discern whether it’s born from terror or anticipation—the line blurs between them so often. In between turns, they drink from Clarissa’s flask, their eyes becoming more glazed by the minute.
My own body fills with terror when Drew takes a turn, and though I hate myself, feeling like a coward, I don’t watch. Just as I did when they hung my mother’s body on the wall, I squeeze my eyes shut and turn away.
“Just trust us, the high is worth it,” Benjamin says in my ear, clasping my shoulders tightly just before he shoves me onto the tracks.
Somehow, between one moment and the next, I find myself standing in the middle of those metal bands, waiting for the lights and the thrill. Drew cheers my name,
and the others join in. Though I have absolutely no desire to play, I can’t deny the fact that I want their acceptance. Since I got to the boardinghouse, that’s all I’ve wanted. I see the way they interact with one another, as if they’re a family. I want that. I miss that. If I step off now, I’m worried the possibility of having it again will disappear forever.
Suddenly, there’s no time to think about it anymore—I’ve lost the chance to back out of this. Headlights slice through the darkness and that shrill whistle fills the air. Metaphorical and literal alarm bells fill my head, but I force my feet to stay firmly planted to the wooden rail.
Whoops and shouts of encouragement fill the air. The train rushes at me in a burst of blaring horns and squealing brakes. The driver will try to stop—they always do—but the train is moving too fast. There’s no escaping it.
I stare death in the face for one terrible instant, and then I fling myself to safety, chest heaving with the force of my fear.
That’s when Nina arrives in a rush of pajamas and fury.
She shoves Simon’s chest, an audible thump, and he barely manages not to go sprawling through the gravel. “Why?” she shouts at him.
“We’re just, you know, having some fun. Trying to be alive,” Benjamin mumbles, his head bowed like a scolded child.
“This is not living!” is Nina’s furious reply. “This is asking for death, you idiots!”
She grabs my hand—along with Drew’s—and pulls us away. In that moment, I decide it’s better to have one true friend than a thousand friends that aren’t.
Or a group of people that’ll watch you stand in front of a speeding train.
Chapter Five
On Monday night, someone slams their fist against the door. Thankfully, I’m already awake. All day long, I’ve been hunted by nightmares like they’re hellhounds, nipping at my subconscious and tearing at my sanity.