by D. H. Davis
It’s not long before we hear a beep outside Eve’s house and rush downstairs to clamber into our ride. Jessie’s car is significantly more modern and more expensive than Eve’s. I guess being around for fifty years, you acquire a fair bit of money so why not splash out. I think at school people just assume he’s got rich parents because how else would a teenager afford an Audi A3.
To my surprise, Owen’s already sat in the front seat, beaming out the window, “Check out this sweet ride,” he brags.
“Sweet indeed,” Eve smiles, her eyes lighting up as she runs her hand over the bonnet and walks around to the driver’s side. “That’s best friend approval point one,” she says winking at Jessie.
He just smiles and shakes his head, as we attempt to slide in the back as gracefully as we can.
“Don’t you think your girl looks mighty fine tonight?” she asks, putting both Jessie and I on the spot in true Eve fashion.
Jessie catches my eye in the rear view mirror and replies, “Doesn’t she always?” Then looks back at the road and begins the journey.
“Man, that was smooth,” Owen chuckles and Eve just smiles to herself, clearly approving of his answer.
After some small talk about school and if Eve’s feeling better after her tonsillitis, Jessie asks whose party it is we are going to.
“Dylan Green’s,” Owen replies. “The biggest Neanderthal at school.”
“Then why exactly are we going to his party?” Jessie wonders.
“Because, as much as we hate him for what he did to B, he has a massive house and knows how to throw a decent party,” Eve replies, giving away more information than I would have wanted to.
I brace myself for the question that I know will follow.
“And what did he do to Brooke?” Jessie asks, raising one of his eyebrows. I look down at my feet, desperately trying to avoid eye contact. I’ve got no intention of being the one to answer.
“He was Brooke’s boyfriend in year nine and he pretty much treated her like crap,” Owen replies for me.
“Crap is an understatement. He’s the most immature shit we know. He tried to control everything she did and if she did anything he didn’t like he, he gave her hell. Wouldn’t even let her see you Owen, don’t you remember that?” Eve interjects, the volume of her voice reflecting her deep hatred of the guy.
“Yeah, ’course,” Owen replies turning to Jessie and following with, “I mean come on, have you ever heard anything so ridiculous. What kind of threat am I?” he points to himself in his superman T-shirt as he says this. “He even tossed me in the school bin once because he found out I’d walked home with you guys.”
“What the hell!” Jessie reacts. “Are you being serious?”
“Yeah, like I said, immature. It’s how he deals with everything, intimidation. When B finally broke up with him he started a rumour too, just to be spiteful.”
I cringe hoping we can just leave it there. It was embarrassing enough to live through the first time. I really don’t want to talk about it in front of Jessie.
“Brooke, what did he say?” Jessie asks, his grip on the steering wheel tightening and I become aware that the prospect of someone hurting me is angering him.
For a second, I like the feeling of someone caring enough to get annoyed on my behalf, but I quickly remember Jessie is no ordinary guy. I don’t know enough about vampires yet to know how well he can regulate his emotions. I decide to downplay it as best I can.
“It’s no big deal, alright. He just said some stuff that wasn’t true. It sucked for a while but I’m over it now.” I look at Jessie in the mirror, hoping I’ve been convincing enough. I haven’t.
“Over it or not, what did he say?”
This tone of voice is new from Jessie, there’s no light-hearted banter anymore, he’s deadly serious. I can’t bring myself to say it, though. What if he believes it? I couldn’t bare Jessie’s opinion of me to change. I like how he looks at me, I’ve never had that before; even when Dylan had his nice moments it was never like this.
There’re a few moments of silence before he appeals to the others.
“Come on, guys, what did he say?”
“He told the whole school they had sex.” Eve owned up. My heart sank. It was out there now. “They totally didn’t though!”
It went silent for a few moments and I could feel Jessie’s eyes burning a hole in me through the mirror. I’ve got no idea what he’s thinking and I can’t bring myself to meet his gaze. When someone finally breaks the silence, it’s Jessie.
“He tried it didn’t he?” he asks. I sigh and realise I might as well just be honest. If I don’t, Eve will only tell him later anyway.
“Yeah,” I continue to look down while I answer. “We’d been together about six months and there was a party marking the end of year nine. Everyone went, most people were drunk off one or two alcopops, Dylan, probably more than others. We were alone in a room and he tried it, when I said no, he wasn’t particularly impressed. Started telling me after six months it shouldn’t even be an issue and he was a saint for putting up with all my crap. Don’t get me wrong, he didn’t try to force me or anything just got a bit nasty about it. So, I told him it was over. He’d made me feel bad for long enough and I wasn’t going to let him make me feel bad about the fact I didn’t want to have sex at fourteen. As you can imagine with an ego like his, he didn’t take it well. He warned me, I’d regret it.”
I pause and take a breath. “Turns out his version of what when down was very different. He told anyone that would listen that we did it and I was crap, so he broke up with me.” Eve grabs my hand and gives it a little squeeze, letting me know she remembers how much it sucked. “But like I said, I’m over it now. It was a long time ago and the people I care about know the truth.” I smile at Eve and squeeze her hand back.
“Honestly, Brooke, not as many people believed him as you thought, especially now he’s had more girlfriends, they all know he’s a tool too,” Owen adds, doing his best to cheer me up.
Jessie on the other hand stays silent. I’m not quite sure what he’s thinking. Eve helps break the tension though by changing the subject to whether or not we all think she should dye her hair a different colour. Thank God for Eve!
Chapter Eight
We pull up on the massive driveway. It’s one of those circular ones where you drive around a flowerbed in the middle to get back out onto the main road. We all clamber out of the car and join the crowd of people gathered by the front door waiting to filter through. Dylan’s parents are both corporate lawyers, so their family is well and truly made of money; the house is enormous and well kept, the kind that doesn’t really belong in Arcane Grove, more like it should be on an episode of Cribs. His parents are regularly away as they work some high profile cases across the country, so Dylan throws a fair few parties. Personally, I think it’s his way of trying to buy friends. We boycotted them for a few years but now we’re in sixth form, we decided not to cut our noses off to spite our faces. The house is big enough that we rarely even bump into him, so we have had some pretty decent nights. Tonight, however, I’m now dreading. What is Jessie going to do with what he’s learnt? The brooding look on his face and one-word answers he’s giving people don’t portray the actions of someone chilled and ready to party.
Inside, things are well on their way; empty beer bottles are sprinkled across the hallway floor and there is music blaring. People are scattered around the house; some clustered in the living room having deep discussions where they’re putting the world to rights, some dancing in the dining room like they’ve never heard music before and some leading each other upstairs to find a quiet place to kiss. We however, walk past all of this and head to the kitchen; the logical first place at any party. When we enter the modern kitchen, we can see a very intense game of beer pong is underway on the island and Dylan is at the centre of it.
There’s a crowd of people watching the match between him and Bobby Newman and they are clearly battling for more t
han the glory of beer pong champion. It’s got to be about the girlfriend-stealing incident Eve was on about the other week.
It’s then that he notices us and slowly looks me up and down, very obviously. He’s clearly already hammered, he’s swaying as he does it and his clothes are slightly dishevelled, even though, he’s known for being a slick dresser. His usual handsome face is full of blotches and his blonde hair is messy, but not in an intended way. His eyeing of me does not go unnoticed by Jessie who tenses his entire body.
“Jessie Wells, what are you doing here?” Dylan asks raising both his arms out to his sides, making it crystal clear it’s his house we’re in. “Gracing the year twelves with your presence, to what do we owe the honour?” His words are slurred and slow, not pulling off the intimidation I think he’s hoping for.
“I’m just here with my girl,” Jessie replies reaching for my hand. “Thanks for the invite,” he says with gritted teeth.
I can’t help but smile at being called his girl. It’s the first time he’s said it but I guess I shouldn’t get too excited. It could just be for Dylan’s benefit, who lets out a very melodramatic laugh and says, “Ah so you’re the next victim, well good luck mate. You’re gonna need it.”
A few of his fellow jock friends laugh along with his reply, idiotically inflating his ego even more.
I wonder if Jessie is going to bite (figuratively, but then actually panic whether he will literally, too). However, he surprises me and calmly walks over, leading me by the hand to the island.
“Can anyone play?” he asks, looking Dylan in the eye. Dylan’s smile grows as he nods towards the triangle of cups at our end, inviting Jessie to have a go.
Bobby seems all too happy to let Jessie take his place and quickly gets out of the way. Eve and Owen follow behind us, positioning themselves where they can get a good view of the game.
“I get it in, you drink, you get it in, I drink.” Dylan instructs, attempting to patronise Jessie in front of the crowd.
“I think I’ve got it.” Jessie smiles, picking up the white ping pong ball off the counter.
The game doesn’t last long after that. Jessie proceeds to get every shot in one of the plastic, red cups in front of Dylan, meaning he has to down each drink the ball lands in, one after the other.
Within ten minutes, Jessie has made Dylan down five beers, as if he wasn’t drunk enough already. Jessie absolutely embarrasses Dylan at his own game and everyone knows it. Even his worshiping followers are trying hard not to laugh at his expense, which only angers Dylan more. He stumbles to where we are stood and squares up to Jessie.
“You think you’re funny!” he shouts, spitting in Jessie’s face. Panic sears through me as I worry what the vampire in Jessie will do next. He simply wipes the spit from his cheek and stares Dylan dead in the eyes with the same look he gave the muggers.
“No, mate. What I really find funny is little dweebs that get off on making others feel inferior and feel the need to make up lies. Why don’t you go ahead and tell everyone what really went down between you and Brooke?”
To everyone else it sounds like a question, but I know it’s a command. Dylan replies without even thinking, “I lied, we never had sex. I wanted to but she turned me down and broke up with me for being a dick. I was that hurt, I lied to make her suffer.”
As soon as he’s finished speaking, his eyes widen as if he’s only just realised what he’s admitted. In his defence, he had, but I didn’t really care. It was amazing to hear the truth from his lips after all these years.
Gasps come from around the room. People were alternating from staring at Dylan to starting at Jessie and I. What was actually reassuring was the fact that not everyone seemed to have a look of shock on their face; maybe Owen was right and more people had believed me than I thought.
Dylan’s inner circle look horrified, though, and he could see it.
“Guys, you have to understand, she drove me to it!” he pleads, panicking that he was losing their respect. He moves towards them but they back away and turn from him, clearly not in the mood to hear any more lies. Some of them even vacate the room, leaving Dylan to fend for himself. He turns back to us, debates having a go, but then clearly comes to the conclusion that without the backing of his mates, he has no chance against Jessie. Instead, he chooses to run out of the room after his friends. We can hear him begging them to listen to him all the way down the hall.
Jessie turns to me, “With that cleared up, would you care for a drink?”
I look at him in awe. In ten minutes, he’s just cleared up something that’s haunted me for years. Granted he used one of his supernatural abilities, but he did it without violence. This guy just defies all expectations every time I’m with him. I really do need to start giving him more credit.
The night carries on well from there. People don’t stop coming up to apologise to me for believing Dylan and for anything awful they’ve said about me. It’s surprisingly refreshing.
Owen’s undoubtedly enjoying being associated with Jessie, I think he can actually feel his street credibility rising and Eve’s enjoying flirting with Dylan’s friends who out of loyalty were previously off limits. Jessie’s going down a storm with our year too and I think people like me more just for bringing him.
After a couple of hours of being sociable, Jessie whisks me outside for some time alone. Like the house, the garden is grand. I don’t know exactly how many acres it has but the fields seem to go on forever. We walk hand in hand, talking about the excitement of the evening so far.
We reach a gathering of low overgrown trees, similar to the ones in the Spinny with trunks you can perch on and Jessie pulls me playfully onto one, so I’m sat on his lap.
He leans in and kisses me gently. Same as always, I feel a tingle inside me and a longing for him not to stop. But he does. He pulls back and holds my face endearingly, as if he’s going to say something romantic.
To my disappointment though, he lifts me up to my feet and walks away from me. He leans against a tree facing away from me.
“What are you doing to me?” he asks, seeming distressed.
“What do you mean?” I reply, confused by the very sudden change in mood.
“I don’t do this,” he states still looking at the tree with his back to me. “I can get girls, no problem. That’s why, I’ve never had to care. I’ve never wanted a relationship.” He spins to face me now and I can see it’s not just me that’s confused. “But you, you intrigue me. And when I heard what that creep did to you, I wanted to rip his throat out! Not just because he hurt you but because you were even with him. What is that?!”
I smile to myself, forgetting he can see me and he raises his eyebrows as if to say ‘are you kidding?’
“I think you’ll find it’s jealousy,” I inform, stepping towards him. “Although, being jealous of someone I dated nearly four years ago is a little much.” I can’t help but giggle.
“Don’t laugh at me, witchy. This is new to me. I don’t care like this. But the thought of you with anyone else, being hurt or upset, it drives me crazy.” He looks at the floor as if he’s ashamed.
I walk forward and lift his chin with my hand, so he’s looking at me.
“You’re not alone, you know. I’m pretty crazy about you too and God knows that doesn’t make any sense. You are a vampire after all. My parents most definitely will not approve!”
He smiles back at me with affection in his eyes. Suddenly, he’s switched our places and pushes me up against the tree, kissing me far more passionately than before. His hands are running all over my body and mine are doing the same. His, so muscular and toned, I feel both safe and excited at the same time. Having him pressing against me doesn’t scare me; I don’t want him to stop.
Once again, I don’t know how long we were kissing for before he abruptly pulls away and moves himself a few steps from me.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, suddenly panicking that I’d done something wrong and that maybe he wasn’t enjoying
it as much as I was.
“Nothing, I just need a minute,” he mutters turning away from me again but not before I catch a glimpse of what he’s trying to hide.
His fangs. They weren’t there before and if I’m honest, I have wondered why I’ve only ever seen them that day with the muggers. Does he think I’ll be scared of him or something? In reality, he makes me feel the opposite. I rush to face him and pull his hand from his face, trying to show him it’s doesn’t bother me.
“I’m sorry, I don’t always have control over when they come out. It doesn’t mean I want to bite you or anything, there’s just certain times they appear.” He looks embarrassed.
“What makes them come? I saw them the day we met but then not again until now,” I enquire, still holding his hands.
“Primal instincts,” he replies. “The mugging was fight or flight and now well, I’m sure you can guess.” He hangs his head in shame, as I catch on to what he’s saying.
“Well if that’s the case, surely it’s just a compliment,” I smirk, trying to make light of the situation.
“I don’t want you to think I was expecting anything, though. I’m nothing like that scumbag in there. I would never just assume,” Jessie insists and I suddenly understand, and if anything it just makes me like him more.
“Just because your fangs come out doesn’t mean I think you’re trying that,” I look at him and smile. “If anything, the fact you even think like this means you’re in with more of a chance.”