Neither

by Chelsea M. Cameron

  “You'll see,” she says.

  Oh, God. I have no idea what to prepare for. I hang up with her and go back to struggling with my homework. The words on the page swim in front of my eyes. Whoever came up with the idea for homework should be hung by their thumbs and tickled to death.

  When the bell finally rings for lunch, I'm more than relieved. Tex is already waiting for me at my locker when I get there.

  “The boys are outside. I may or may not have skipped out of AP Euro early with a headache so I could see Viktor.” I'm guessing the answer is may.

  “Come again? Did you just say that you skipped history? Who are you?”

  She laughs and loops her arm with mine. “This is the new and improved Tex. I now come with a hot Russian at no extra charge.”

  We bust out of the school doors and dash to the parking lot. Technically speaking, only seniors are allowed to leave campus during lunch, but the monitoring is sketchy at best. As long as you aren't a wide-eyed freshman, you can pretty much get away with it.

  Peter and Viktor are hanging out next to Tex's car, as if they're guarding it. At the first sight of him, my heart does a happy dance, and everything falls into place. Like it or not, my life is only complete when I'm with him. Whether that is completely due to the Claiming or not, I still haven't figured out. Not that it matters. It is what it is.

  I wonder sometimes if he'd been human and we'd both met at school or at a party, what we might have been like. If we would have been a couple.

  Obviously, he'd be a much different person. He'd probably smile a lot more and play the guitar. Maybe he'd wear guy-liner and write weird poetry and hang out in cemeteries. I don't know. Peter wouldn't be the same Peter if he was human, that's for sure. Even thinking about wishing that he was human is crazy. I mentally slap myself and smile at him.

  “Hey, Peter.”

  “Hello, Ava-Claire. How has your day been?”

  “Meh. It's better now that you're here.”

  “I have told you before that if you want me to enroll in school, Viktor can make it happen,” he says, taking my hand.

  “That is true,” Viktor says, pulling something out of his back pocket. He always wears an odd assortment of clothes, and today he has a Batman t-shirt and khakis with a newsboy cap. It's all very hipster chic. He hands me what, for all intents and purposes, looks like a Maine driver's license. I stare at it, but it looks exactly like mine. Except, of course, it has a picture of Viktor on it and his details.

  “You're an organ donor?”

  “No. I put it on there because people tend to treat you better if you are.” He takes the ID back from me and slips it in his back pocket again.

  “Okay, how did you make that?”

  “They are not difficult to make. I have had a lot of time to practice. I can also do passports and other documents.”

  “Where do you make them?”

  “At my place in Russia. I am having a lot of my equipment shipped here.”

  “Where are you going to put it?”

  “In my room,” Tex pipes up. “If I shove it in the closet, my mom will never know. I can also throw them in a box in the basement of the bookstore. She only sends Toby down there, and if I label it with something generic, he'll never look. Easy as pie.”

  “Have you ever made pie? It's not that easy,” I say. She has no idea how difficult pie crust can be.

  “Whatever,” she says, gazing adoringly at Viktor. He glances down at her. I haven't seen him smile, either. Maybe Tex can give him lessons. They'd probably involve her taking her clothes off. Strip Smiling. Ew.

  “I really don't think it would work, having you at school. Plus, you would be seriously distracting. I don't think I'd get anything done,” I say.

  “I think it's a great idea,” Tex says. Of course she does.

  I roll my eyes and Viktor gives me a wink. Wait, what? I give him a look and he does it again. There is definitely more to Viktor than meets the eye. Tricksy boy.

  “So if you would like it, I can make it happen,” he says, back to Mr. Stoic.

  “I think it's a really, really bad idea. Anyway, school is going to be out soon and then we'll have the summer.” I'm going to spend most of my summer with my mother, but I'll spend whatever is left with Peter, and probably working a few hours at the bookstore so I can get my Tex fix. Obviously I'll also add some quality Jamie time, too.

  “We do have the summer,” Peter says, swinging our hands.

  My skin shivers with excitement that I get to touch him. He doesn't mention the fall, because we both know what happens in the fall. Or maybe even in the summer. I am going to lose my mother, and it's going to break both of us. He is so tied to me that my grief is going to become ours.

  “I'm starving,” Tex says.

  We all decide to grab a quick bite at Grill Monsters, which is a camper that has been turned into a mobile grill that drives around Sussex in the summer and parks in a different place every day. Sometimes we forget where it's supposed to be and have to drive around to find it, but not today. It's hanging out next to the lumber supply in an unused parking lot. I like Grill Monsters because I can get a veggie burger, and Tex loves the bacon barbecue burger. I'm surprised when she orders it, because it's really messy and she gets sauce all over her face when she eats it. I didn't think she'd want to show that side to Viktor just yet.

  “Sorry you can't have any,” Tex says to Viktor before stuffing the burger in her mouth. Real attractive, Tex.

  “It is fine. I do not desire food, so I don't miss it. Although, when I was human, my mother used to make a potato casserole that I loved. Somehow I saved the memory of eating that through my change.”

  Peter told me that when you change, you had to fight for your memories, so Viktor fought for that one. I realize I knew next to nothing about his family.

  “Rasha and Kamir are coming this weekend,” Viktor says as Tex and I stuff our faces and feel guilty. At least I know I do.

  “Who?” I say after swallowing. Tex just talks with her mouth full. Guess Viktor didn't seem to care.

  “They are friends of mine that have agreed to come to our aid. They are taking their boat here as we speak.” It's true; I can't picture a noctalis on a plane. Too much enclosed space with blood-scented circulating air.

  “You sure they're okay?” It's terrible that I don't trust their judgment. They've been wrong before, and I am unsure if I can take that experience again.

  “Yes, they are trustworthy,” Viktor says. Ookkaaayy. “I am not going after you, Ava. If I could make a binding promise not to hurt you, I'd do that as well. I have one year. It will not take nearly that long.” He's so sure. What is he, a psychic now?

  “See?” Tex says, as if that settles it. I'm still skeptical.

  “They have helped me before,” Viktor adds. Well, that would have been good to know in the first place. Even though it's true Cal helped Peter.

  “You gonna give us details?” I ask.

  “Yeah, details, please,” Tex says around a mouthful of burger.

  “I will only say that I was in a jam, and they helped me out of it. You can trust them.” Oh there is a story there. I'd have to get it from Tex, because I have the feeling she's going to get it out of him. Subject closed.

  We finish the rest of our lunch, talking about nothing in particular. I watch Tex and Viktor. They keep their bodies turned toward one another and if she moves, he moves. She also plays with her hair a lot, which is a sure sign that she likes him, if that was ever in doubt. Visually, they make a good couple, with the matching blond hair. Even though he towers over her.

  “So how's it working out having a boy in your room?” I ask Tex as we toss our trash and hop back in the car. I sit in the back with Peter, and Viktor claims the front seat. Since my legs are so short, and his are so long, I'm sitting behind him so he can push the seat back as far as it will go.

  “My parents are oblivious. They wouldn't notice if I had an elephant in my room as long as I went to
school and work and so forth. Speaking of work, I think Toby might be done.” She says the last part with a little squeal of delight.

  “Oh, really?” I look at Viktor, but he just stares straight ahead. “And how did that come about?”

  “Let's just say that some books went missing while he was working and some of the money wasn't where it was supposed to be.”

  “Texas Anne!” I'm shocked she would resort to such measures to get rid of him so she could hire her boyfriend. Huh, I guess Viktor is her boyfriend now. Never thought I'd see the day.

  “What? Viktor needs to be around me, and Toby needs to go away. See? Two birds, one stone.” She starts humming as if that closes the conversation.

  “You're not very nice when you want something, you know?” I say.

  “No, I'm not. I'm a bitch. This is not news. Doesn't mean I'm gonna change any time soon. Viktor likes me the way I am,” she says, grinning hopelessly at him.

  Viktor looks at her and nods. “I would not change you.”

  “There you have it,” Tex says, looking at me in the rearview mirror.

  I cross my eyes at her and glance at Peter. He blinks at me. What are you going to do?

  Peter

  Ava lets me come in the house that afternoon, even though her father is home.

  “I need you to do that thing where you make me not freak out, because I feel like I'm close, and I really don't want to bite him,” she says in a rush.

  I take her hand.

  “Thank you,” she says.

  We open the door and the foyer is filled with flowers in multi-sized and colored vases.

  “Holy crap, it's like a florist in here. Or a funeral. Or a florist's funeral.” She gasps after she says the word funeral, as if she has cursed. “Oh God, I shouldn't have said that.”

  “Ava-Claire, is that you?” Claire calls from the other room. Ava and I make our way around the mounds of blooms that are so numerous that they're stacked on the floor because there aren't enough surfaces to hold them all.

  “I told you it was something,” Claire says as we walk into the kitchen. There are more flowers there, and many containers of food, some still warm. They scent the air and clash. How humans can find that appetizing is beyond me.

  “What the hell happened?” Ava says, gaping at the full kitchen counter.

  “The doorbell has been ringing nonstop. Your father has been fetching them and signing for them all day. I don't even know where some of them are from. That doesn't even count the casseroles. At least I won't have to cook for a little while. Or a few years,” Claire says, waving at the dishes and pots. “When humans are confronted with death, they buy flowers and cook things. It helps them deal with it and feel like they're contributing,” Claire tells me.

  “Yes, I am familiar with the practice. So many people cooked for my mother when my father and I died, she ended up giving most of it away.”

  Claire’s breath catches when I talk about dying.

  “So you consider yourself dead? Or undead?”

  “Immortal,” I say.

  “Um, should we really be talking about this in the kitchen when Dad's home?” Ava says.

  “Oh, he's taking a nap,” Claire says, waving Ava off and stacking two of the containers on top of another. I move to help her. Claire’s body is too wrapped up in fighting to stay alive to keep her strong. “Thank you, Peter. Could you slide those in the fridge for me?” I do, somehow finding a place in the crowded refrigerator.

  “Dad's taking a nap? Did you drug him?”

  Claire laughs and pulls Ava in for a kiss on the cheek. “No, he's just been really tired lately. We've been staying up late talking about things.” Claire fiddles with some peonies in a silver vase.

  “What kind of things?” Ava says. I feel as if I should absent myself for this conversation, but Ava will not let go of my hand. I have to stay for her, so I do my best to pretend I am not there.

  “Just things. Nothing you need to worry your pretty head about. Why don't you go and arrange some of those flowers around the house? It'll be like a florist blew up in here for a few days. I'm going out to the garden.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, baby. I'm sure.” Claire gives me a look before she goes out of the room and shuts the door. I hear her humming outside.

  “It is like a floral shop blew up in here,” Ava says, gesturing to the flowers. I couldn't agree more.

  It takes us the better part of an hour to find homes for all the flowers. We fill the rooms, bathrooms and even put a few vases in Ava's room.

  “I don't get why people send flowers when someone is going to die. The flowers end up dying and reminding you. They should send things that are going to last.”

  “Flowers remind you of the fleeting nature of life.”

  “True, but I still think it's a stupid thing to do. If they're this bad now, what is it going to be like —” she stops, not able to continue.

  “I know,” I say, taking her hand and massaging it with mine. “Let me take some of your stress. I have broad shoulders.”

  She laughs and puts her arms around my waist, resting her chin on my chest and looking up into my eyes. I let myself get lost in hers for a minute.

  “So what do you think of Viktor and Tex? Yes, no, maybe so?”

  “I think he is smitten. I think she is as well.”

  “She's different with him. I mean, she's still flirty and weird, but sometimes I see her looking at him, and it makes my heart ache because I understand. I think she's in love with him, but she hasn't realized it yet. Does the Claiming always do that?”

  “Not always. Claiming is a connection, another way to form a bond. Sometimes that leads to love. Sometimes it doesn't,” I say, kissing her forehead. “You are right about Texas, I think.”

  “God help us when she realizes she loves him.” She rolls her eyes and I try to do the same. She laughs and I join in, my voice blending with hers like cream into coffee.

  “Getting better. How much do you want to bet Tex is giving Viktor smiling lessons right now?” she says.

  “Don't underestimate Viktor's ability to act human when he wants. I have seen it in action. He can be very charming when the situation requires it.”

  “Wow. I'm trying to picture it. He's always so stoic. So... Russian? Is that racist?”

  “His natural inclination is toward his noctalis side, but his human side is easier to find than mine. Although, mine has gotten much closer to the surface since I met you.”

  I hold her face between my hands and meet her lips for a chaste kiss. Her mind roars at me, and I'm blasted with images of the two of us tumbling onto her bed, her taking my shirt off, her taking her shirt off, and...

  “Ava, stop. We need to stop.” I push her back and she blushes a brilliant red color.

  “You just read my mind, didn't you?”

  “Yes. And I had to push you away or I would have followed through with that vision.”

  “Is it because you don't want to? Or you're afraid you'll hurt me or something? I know it's a stupid and trivial thing to fuss about when everything else is going on, but I just need to know.”

  “How could you think that I don't want you?”

  “Show me,” she says, staring at me with those green eyes.

  I close my eyes and think about her. I imagine her skin and her lips and try to send all the things I adore about her into my head. I press my forehead against hers and try to push all those thoughts through our connection. She makes a little noise of shock. I force harder, and she grips my waist.

  “How did you do that? I thought you could only read my mind.”

  “I don't know,” I say, opening my eyes, “but everything seems impossible until you do it. And with you, I think nearly anything is possible, my Ava-Claire. You make everything possible.”

  She smiles at me and we embrace.

  “You sound more optimistic than you have been,” she says.

  “Must be the flowers. Full of possib
ility.”

  She rolls her eyes again.

  Eight

  Brooke

  If I'd been less cute, I probably wouldn't get as many as I did. People had a hard time not stopping to help a pretty girl stranded on a rural road. It was like shooting fish in a barrel. I hated doing it that way, because the people who stopped were usually the nice ones. The helpful ones. I really should find a better way to do this, but for now I just needed some blood and this was the easiest way to get it.

  I made sure to wear a short skirt and a tank top that showed off my chest. It wasn't an outfit I ever would have worn in my human life, but that didn't matter. That Brooke had died. I was a different Brooke. An immortal one.

  I popped the hood up and pretended to be fiddling with things I had no idea about. The funny thing was that Dillon had loved cars, and every now and then I'd hung out with him while he worked on them. I asked him to show me a few things, and he had. I knew how to change the oil, do a battery jump, that sort of thing. I could also change a tire on my own. I could probably do it even faster now, but I hadn't tried yet.

  I didn't have to wait long. Even on this rural road there were always people going here or there. This place was similar to New Hampshire, only it had the distinct tang of salt water in the air. New Hampshire had a lot of lakes, but only a small portion of the state reached the ocean and I'd never lived there. Until I became immortal and could go where I wanted, when I wanted, I hadn't realized how large the world was. I'd barely been out of New Hampshire in my first sixteen years of human life. My mother wasn't the kind of parent who took us on trips or anything like that. I'd gone to Canobee Lake Park with Cara and her family, but other than that I'd never left our small town.

  A truck rumbled down the road, slowing when the driver saw me. I moved my face into a pout, a trick I'd had to relearn and practice for hours in a mirror. My face had lost the ability to make human expressions. There was a teenage boy driving the truck. He reminded me of Dillon.

  “Hey, do you need some help?”

  “Yeah, I don't know what's wrong with it. It just died.” I put my hands up as if I was lost when it came to auto maintenance. I wished I could cry, because that would help. I'd tried to cry, but my immortal body didn't produce tears. I could make my voice sound like I was crying and just hide my face. I'd done that enough times.