Soul to Keep

by Rebekah Weatherspoon

“Is there going to be a quiz?”

  “That’s the only class that I don’t walk to with James or anyone else.”

  “Oh. Good thinking. I have some stored up in here,” I said, tapping my temple. “I think enough to pass as a level three student. Where is Jim? And the baby Van? I thought they were your roll buddies.”

  “Oh. Uh, they’re staying in and watching movies. I kinda changed up plans on them at the last minute.” Then Jill went quiet. We were getting close. You could hear the music thudding in the cooling night air. Fall had finally shown up.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “Yeah. I’m just thinking about this on a scientific level. Trying to formulate a clear hypothesis.”

  “Us?”

  “Yes.”

  “What’s the hypothesis?”

  “Well, I have no control. We both know we don’t have romantic feelings for each other, but we both know that sex is an option, if not the eventual conclusion.”

  “Go on.” I stopped and faced her. This was too heavy for a walk and talk. The fact that she even used the word hypothesis pulled me out of our playful make-believe. I had to see where she was going with this.

  “I’m trying to understand the draw to sex, or at least the sudden or gradual appearance of sexual desire. But we did not meet under normal human circumstances. And you’re not human and you’re coming into this situation with a wealth of knowledge about social and sexual interactions with both men and women. And I know that. So how do I set aside what I know to let things develop organically?”

  That was a lot to chew on. Especially when we were supposed to be going to a party. “Hmmm,” I said, you know, to keep it light. I started walking again. The girls were getting a little ahead of us, and I needed to keep an eye on them. “If you meet someone on a dating site, you’re going into it with preconceived intentions, right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Hold on. Are you more comfortable speaking French?”

  “Oh, oui. I mean, goodness, yes! I miss it too. I wish more Americans spoke it.”

  “Then let’s do this in French,” I said. In French. Jill’s whole face lit up.

  “Your French is excellent!”

  “Kina and I. She dealt a lot with the French and she encouraged me to learn. Her French is—” Jill laughed as I kissed the tips of my fingers. “But you were saying?”

  “Yes. Ah, yes, this feels so much better. Anyway, dating sites.”

  “Right. Dating sites. Not as organic as bumping into someone on the street or accidentally reaching for the same book in the library. It’s not cosmic fate, as you see it, but maybe it is. Maybe it’s fate, or whatever you want to call it—destined, meant to be—that you and that person join that dating site exactly when you did and happened to see each other’s profiles exactly when you did, and just happened to be feeling brave enough to send the first wink or message, and just the right mood to say yes or wink back. Those stars align right and it just happens that they align through the Internet. Would that make the sex you eventually have any less special?”

  “I suppose not, no.”

  “So how about we look at it that way. I just happened to die and become a vampire and then fast-forward like a shitload of years and you just happen to apply to Maryland U.”

  “That was not by chance. I picked this school after extensive research.”

  “Of course you did. Well, what if they’d already accepted a straight-A, biracial, trilingual French-Canadian with gay dads? I mean I’m sure the admissions office has a quota for that. You would have gone to your second choice school, and Dr. Miller’s class would have never been on your pre-med track, and you would have never gotten this assignment, and you could kiss the best ABO chapter on earth good-bye. And your precious Ginger.” I pinched her cheek then flashed her a big smile. “And you never would have met me. It’s kismet, you see?”

  “I suppose.”

  “So if we end up having sex tonight then the stars aligned to make it that way. Or it’s because you made a choice. Maybe I stop asking you what you want from this fake girlfriend and keep this form, but I just try to be myself, the side of me that you don’t know, but that Ginger doesn’t either because she’s had her face glued to Camilla’s ass since the moment she pledged ABO and she has no clue what any of us are really like. You could get to know me. We could get to a place where you’re comfortable, or I do something right that makes you think that being with me wouldn’t be so bad. And we totally do it. That’s organic.”

  “Yes.” We stopped again. The crowds were in view, the street already teeming with college kids that had probably started pre-gaming hours before. Beer, sweat, body splash. So so much sprayable cologne. A hint of old blood and more than one dog. The OBA boys had brought their Rottweiler, Motherfucker, with them. I could smell him for sure. I focused on Jill and not the music and the noise and whatever Hollis was yelling at some boy across the street.

  “But does that screw up your hypothesis?”

  “No, just changes it a little, but that’s scientific too. Adjusting to new conditions.”

  “Well, the conditions have changed, my friend. And that said, I’d love to do this.” I just kissed her. There was no way I was thinking about it. I just kissed her. It was what I wanted to do. I think kissing her was what she wanted me to do. I thought about that for a full four seconds, and then I realized that Jill was fully engaged in this kiss. She moved a bit closer, tilted her head a bit so our lips slid together in a better fit.

  She smelled so nice, like fresh air and cool water. Sweet. And she was soft, smooth. My tongue flicked out for a taste and then I pulled away. My fangs were dropping.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “Yes.” I snarled a bit and forced my teeth back into my gums. The sharp tips were invisible to the humans around us, but they were primed and ready. “Remind me not to bite you.”

  Jill took a step back. “Can you not control yourself?”

  “I can. And I won’t.” I shook my head. “Sorry. Let me clear something up. I cannot bite you. Even if you want me to, okay?”

  The fear that clouded her face told me she knew I wasn’t joking. “Why? What happens? Tell me.”

  “You’ll die.”

  “What?”

  “You’re bound to Ginger, and whatever this is, the connection has to be broken by Ginger or you before I or any other vampire can bite you. It’s stupid and dangerous, but I didn’t make the rule.”

  “Is that why you are so possessive of us?”

  “Yes and no. I don’t know. We’re not human, Jill. Not animals either, but it’s primal. You’re hers.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “Plus you smell good. I’ll want to bite you if things go further and you’ll want me to ’cause you associate coming with fangs in your neck. But no. No. Bad Jill. No biting.”

  She giggled at that. “Okay. I won’t ask you to bite me, no matter how crazed with arousal I become.”

  “Excellent. So what do we do now?” I motioned up the street. “A night of reckless drunken irresponsibility lays before you. Your girlfriend, who won’t be drinking because she has to get her dad’s car home in one piece, is happy to do whatever else you like. Do we go with it, organic like, or do we hit some specific milestones?”

  “In my research, it seems that simple touches are the best foreplay. Things like holding hands or touching your partner on their side or back or even anywhere on their thigh can trigger arousal and emotional connections. Consensual touch fosters trust as well.”

  “You want me to use your body as a Twister mat? Right hand here, right foot there?”

  “I actually like to be held. Quite a bit. Ginger doesn’t know that.”

  I stepped forward and put my hands around her waist, then pulled her closer so our bodies pressed together, tits to hip. “Like this?”

  “This would work.” Her hands found the small of my back through my thin T-shirt. She moved impossibly closer then laid her head on
my shoulder. Her body sagging against mine shouldn’t have felt as good as it did, and the sigh she let out shouldn’t have bothered me as much as it did either.

  I stroked her hair for a few seconds more before pulling back, just so I could look at her face. She had the tiniest mole near her eye.

  “Wanna go get wasted?” I asked.

  “That’s organic, right?”

  “It is college. Come on.” I grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the ruckus.

  Chapter Eight

  Jill

  Kissing. We were kissing. I was kissing Tokyo. She was kissing me. We’d been kissing all night. In front of people, and I knew the girls would make fun of me, but I didn’t care. I never got to kiss anyone like this, not even Ginger when she took our feedings too far and forgot. Forgot something. I don’t know.

  And then we weren’t kissing. All night, stop and start, but I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to be kissing. I wanted another beer and I wanted to dance to this song, but kissing. That’s what I wanted. Good thing Tokyo was holding on to me. I didn’t drink a lot. Or ever. Never really liked it. Not beer at least. I liked wine. Good wine, but sorority girls didn’t do wine. They did cheap, cheap beer that went right to my head and made my whole body heavy and my head wobbly. Our vampires could taste alcohol in our blood, and then the girls never invited me out with them. Also, I was underage here in the States. So technically I couldn’t drink, but as soon as we got through the velvet ropes—and wasn’t that weird?

  The Gamma boys worked something out with the school and the other houses in the row and they had the whole block cordoned off with this blue velvet rope. Where did they get that much velvet rope?

  “Is there a velvet rope store?” I couldn’t exactly see her, but she was with me. Tokyo had a good grip on my hand. I wasn’t going anywhere. Even though I knew I could totally float away. I wasn’t floating anywhere; her grip was that good. Good grip. “You should be a professional gripper.”

  Her laugh was like fairies playing with wind chimes. “How many beers is that? Three?”

  “I’m French. We know how to drink.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Oui! Well, half French. That’s the white side. The black side is from right here in the USA. Kansas of all places. Isn’t that weird? Grandma and Grandpa come to visit us though. They say there’s nothing to do in Kansas. I’ve been there twice and they are correct.” I leaned closer because I had to ask her something top secret. “Are fairies real? You can tell me. Or just wood sprites. You can tell me. Really. I can be trusted with sensitive information.”

  “They might be. I haven’t seen one. Are you okay?”

  “Mhmm. Just sad.”

  “Is that why you won’t stop dancing?”

  “I’m not dancing. My feet are.”

  “Okay, a little longer then I’m taking you back to the house.”

  “I’m not a fun drunk, am I?”

  “Oh, no no no. You’re a perfectly fun drunk. I just don’t think Ginger will like it that I stood by and watched you get alcohol poisoning.”

  “Oh yeah, that would be bad. We can’t let that happen. I don’t want that. Okay. I’ll stop.”

  Ever so carefully, I made my way over to the curb, and oh so gently set my cup on the curb. It was probably illegal for me to be drinking outside too, but the Greek system at our school always seemed above the law. I’m sure Camila and Ginger were violating all sorts of laws even as we spoke.

  That laugh again. Fairies everywhere. “They probably are. You want to sit here for a little while?”

  “Where? I’m not sitting. Oh yeah, I am. Yeah, let’s sit here.” The curb felt good under my butt. “I blew it didn’t I?”

  “Blew what?”

  “My chance to have sex with you? I don’t even know where I am. How am I supposed to find your vulva?”

  “Going right for my vulva, are you?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m doing. What are you doing?”

  “Texting Kina.”

  “Why?”

  “’Cause I’m taking you home. Usually, baby, when you hit the point of self-loathing, passing out is not too far away.”

  “You called me baby. No one’s called me that.”

  “Well, now I have. Up you go.”

  Tokyo was right. My body had pretty much stopped working. Passing out felt like such a good, good idea. Like sleeping.

  ❖

  Jill

  The sandpaper in my throat woke me up. If I didn’t drink some water soon I would die. I groaned and tried to roll out of bed. There was water in Portia’s mini fridge, but I couldn’t seem to get to it. I tried again. Then I scooted a little farther to the end and my feet still didn’t hit the floor.

  A light flickered on and I thought my head was going to explode.

  “Oh, goodness. Turn it off.” The light went off again, but I was able to catch a glimpse of Ginger and Tokyo sitting at the end of a massive bed that wasn’t mine.

  “Here you go.” Tokyo put a glass of water in my hand. I managed not to spill it all over myself in the dark and took the most refreshing sip of anything I’d ever tasted in my entire life.

  “Thank you.”

  “Can we try the light again?” Ginger asked.

  “Yeah, okay.”

  I slowly opened my eyes, blinking against the warm glow of the globe light above the bed. I figured we were in Tokyo’s bedroom. Everything was black. Everything. Ginger and Camila had a lot of black bedding and such, but they switched things up with reds and golds and greens. I glanced around, and it was black everywhere. Black and hardware. I’d heard that Tokyo was into sadomasochism, but that was something we’d have to discuss at a different time.

  “What time is it?” I asked.

  Tokyo hesitated a moment before she answered. “It’s one p.m.”

  “No! Oh no. I was supposed to go to the library.” I tried to jump up again, but my throbbing head wouldn’t let me. I squeezed my eyes shut and lay back against the pillows. Death, take me now.

  “Clearly, you needed some sleep,” Ginger said with her sweet voice.

  “What were you two doing? Were you just sitting here watching me sleep, making sure I didn’t aspirate on all the alcohol I consumed last night? And the pizza.”

  “Ginger wanted to make sure I didn’t roofie you,” Tokyo said.

  “No, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Tied one on last night, huh?”

  “I don’t know what that means.”

  “We learned that Jill should stop after about one beer,” Tokyo said.

  “I see,” Ginger said, trying to pretend that she wasn’t fully embracing her protective vampire role.

  “I have so much homework to do, but I just want a pile of crepes and then I want to go back to sleep.”

  “There’s leftover pizza upstairs. You want me to grab you some? Or have one of the girls bring some down?” Ginger suggested.

  “No. I should go.” I glanced up at Tokyo, as best I could. The light was still hurting my eyes. “Thank you for…getting me home last night.”

  “No problem.”

  Ginger helped me out of bed, then leaned down and grabbed my shoes off the floor. My phone was banging around inside one of them. “Come on.”

  She led me out, walking quietly until we got to the elevator.

  “I didn’t throw up or anything did I?”

  “No, you didn’t,” she said with a little laugh. “We’ll move our feeding to Tuesday.”

  “Oh, I forgot. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine. A couple of days won’t make a difference. But is everything okay with you?” Ginger asked.

  “Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “No reason. You just don’t seem like yourself lately. You never go to parties and you never drink. Heard some chatter that you were making out with some girl at the party too? Not that you can’t make out with people. It just doesn’t seem very like you. You usually do Saturdays with Jim and Van.”


  I shrugged, ignoring the part where she said I was making out with some girl. “Maybe I remembered I was in college. Should probably have some fun before I graduate.”

  “And that’s all?”

  “You always tease me because I’m so honest. You say I overdo my honesty.”

  “You do.”

  “So trust me. When I say everything is fine, you have to believe that I’m telling you the truth. Or you could read my mind and see that everything’s fine.” I started running a list of the day’s to-dos just in case she took me up on the offer. She suddenly relaxed, so maybe she tried to catch a glimpse. “You should trust Tokyo too. She’s a good person.”

  “I know.”

  The elevator came and I didn’t hesitate to jump on it.

  “Drink some more water!” Ginger called out just as the doors slid closed.

  “I will!”

  The ten-second ride up to the pantry was the last bit of peace I would have for the rest of the afternoon. As soon as I stepped out of the pantry, I ran into Hollis. And Skylar, Kait, Katie, Yazmeen, Carrie, Aleeka. The whole gosh darn sorority might as well have been in the kitchen.

  “Ohhhhh, so you did make it back last night?” Hollis laughed.

  “Mm, yeah.”

  “Is your friend okay?” Skylar asked. “It looked like you were trying to eat her face.”

  “Wait. What! Jill got some last night?” Beth came into the kitchen, yelling loud enough for the OBA boys across the street to hear.

  “Did she ever. Here, look at this.” I watched as Skylar pulled out her phone. She was enveloped by five other girls. I obviously couldn’t see what they were looking at, but I could hear the music from the party and the drone of people’s voices. There was Hollis, telling me not to swallow Bridgette whole, and then a second later a bit of a shriek.

  Kait looked over her shoulder at me, her eyes wide with shock. “Jill,” she mouthed.

  “Oh my, God. Will you two get a room!” Skylar said on the video.

  My phone vibrated in my shoe and I knew that was my cue to leave. They could enjoy their fun. I needed to shower and eat, assess what homework absolutely had to be done that afternoon, and maybe go back to sleep again. They were still whooping and laughing as I made my way upstairs.