“Ok. But, not too long. I don’t want to have to explain things to my father and Celia.” I laughed a little to lighten the mood.
I followed her in the door and stood awkwardly, as she hung up her coat and walked into the kitchen to check her answering machine. Such everyday mundane things, yet I could see the anxiety growing in her. Neither one of us knew what the next step would be when we were alone like this.
“Um, do you want to watch a movie or something?” She bit her lip in such an adorable way, I had to grasp the countertop to physically restrain myself from sweeping her in my arms, kissing her, and carrying her off to bed.
“Sure.” I turned away and pretended to straighten a stack of papers on the kitchen counter.
“Anything in particular you feel like?”
“It doesn’t matter to me.” As long as I’m with you, I thought.
“I hope you don’t mind, but my only DVD player is in my bedroom.”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Are you worried I’ll take advantage of you if we’re in there?”
“No, of course not,” she tried to cover. “It’s more like I thought you would be thinking that I was coming on to you.” She laughed nervously, too, but it was enough to help break the awkward tension between us.
“Lead the way, I promise I’ll behave,” I said, reaching for her hand.
We walked in silence but with hands still locked. Her warmth began to radiate through me.
Her bedroom was not what I had pictured. Instead of taking the largest bedroom, it looked like she was still in the bedroom she had as a child. I looked at the closed doors hiding the memories behind them and decided not to ask. Her room was sage green with a modest desk in one corner and a TV on the dresser. There were a few pictures, in which she looked rather young. A few band posters were scattered on the walls. Between them were shelves housing trophies and ribbons from various music competitions. Bedside tables flanked the mission style oak bed in the center of the room. A ragged quilt that looked to be homemade was thrown messily on. The room was a mix of old and new, almost as if she couldn’t decide what she wanted to remember and what she wanted to forget. A representation of her life before everything changed and what her life was like now.
She quickly straightened out the quilt and threw some pillows toward the headboard before settling on the bed, remotes in hand.
“If you don’t really have an opinion on what you want to watch, I was in the middle of watching something and was thinking that we could just finish it.” She looked at me anxiously and sat on the edge of the bed.
“Sure.” I kicked my shoes off and climbed on the bed to sit next to her. She settled into the crook of my arm and pulled a blanket over us. The movie began to play but I barely paid attention. It was some period film, but I was so distracted by her being in my arms, I didn’t care. I began to stroke her silky hair and instantly felt my ache subside. I kissed the top of her head, and she turned in my arms, her green eyes piercing into mine. She tilted her head toward me closing her eyes. Our lips met, ever so softly, and a flash of emotion followed. God, I loved this girl. I loved this girl so much, my life would never be the same.
She sighed as we separated and laid her head back on my chest. I could feel her warmth and her heartbeat, which brought me back into the present, where I remembered how different we really were. I couldn’t help but wonder if she noticed my lack of a regular heartbeat. By now, my body was warm from having her in my arms, and I reveled in the warmth.
We sat like this until the movie ended. I waited for her to get up and turn the player off, but she only snuggled further on my chest. The even sound of her breathing told me that she was asleep. Maybe I could just stay here all night, holding her. No, I knew that my father would worry if I didn’t show up at home.
I slowly moved out from under her, careful not to wake her, and slid her under the covers. My hand moved to caress her cheek and I kissed her lightly.
“I love you.” I whispered quietly and then slipped out into the night.
A few nights later, Celia was waiting on the porch when I came home. She had a glass of blood waiting for me. Funny, I hadn’t been thirsty until I saw it in her hand. I counted backward in my mind and realized that it had been over a week since I had anything. I hardly noticed anymore. I didn’t want blood with Julia next to me. Our pattern rarely altered, and basically involved being with each other as much as we could. I frequently came to school early, just to be with her. We ran rehearsal and went back to her house afterward. Sometimes she played for me. Sometimes we talked. Sometimes, I just held her, running my hands through her soft hair. I wanted more. I wanted to know all of her. To caress her bare skin. To make her feel as beautiful and she was. She wasn’t the kind of girl to jump into bed with someone right away, so I knew I had to be patient. For now, I would have to be content holding her and kissing her madly.
“Here,” Celia said as she handed me the drink. “You’ve been a little pale, and I thought you could use it. You can’t forget that you still need this to survive.” She followed me like a shadow, waiting for something.
“Yeah, thanks.” Thanks for reminding me what I was.
“You didn’t tell her yet, did you?”
“No. But I almost told her tonight.”
“You say that every night,” she reminded.
“Well, this time it’s true,” I replied, pushing my way past her and into the house.
“What’s stopping you?” she asked, following me inside. “I mean, you have changed. I can see it. Your eyes are brighter every day. And we talked about this. She deserves to know. Will, you know that I love the new you and that I support you completely, but I don’t think the change will be complete until you open up about who you are.”
I stopped when I reached the kitchen and stood there with my back to her. She was right. I felt different every day. It was easier to forget who I was. But holding this glass in my hand was a stark reminder. Its sweet, metallic smell wafted through my nostrils and stung my throat. The desire for more was always there. In fact, I needed it to survive. My frozen body could only go so long without it before I would wither away, and I would become a shell. Neither dead nor alive. Immortality had its price.
“I don’t want to hurt her,” I quietly replied. “I don’t want to scare her.”
“You love her, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I answered without hesitation setting the half empty glass down and pushing it away.
“Then you have to tell her. It’s not fair.” She hesitated. “Just tell her what you are and leave out the Chicago part. You don’t have to tell her how things used to be.”
“Of course I do! I can’t hide who I was from her. What if I’m still that same person? What if I slip back? I just want more time to process all of this.” I paused a minute to let my anger subside slightly. “I’m different now and she must know. She must know what she has done to me.”
“Then what are you waiting for, Will? What are you afraid of?” Celia lifted her hand to touch my arm.
My hands grasped the corner of the countertop, my fingers digging into the wood underneath.
“I don’t want her to see through me. I don’t want her to run.” My eyes pinched closed and I shook my head. “You know what, Cee? I can’t do this right now.” I grabbed my keys from the table and ran out the door before Celia could stop me. Within seconds I was on my bike, racing through the sleeping town as fast as I dared.
I was angry with the world. I was angry with Celia for reminding me of this disease, but most of all, I was angry with myself, for being this way to begin with.
I didn’t know where I was heading, but I drove around all night. I was well aware that I was running from everything, but I also needed to be alone. Finally, I found myself driving up the winding road in the sand dunes. I skid to a halt at one of the lookouts, letting the gravel and dust settle around me. By now, the sun was rising, splashing brilliant pinks and oranges across the sky.
I peered off in the other direction at the waves of the lake. I knew what I had to do, but it was going to be difficult. I had to tell her and the sooner the better. Maybe she wouldn’t run, but maybe she would. I didn’t want to think about that or the pain that it would cause. I’d come too far to crawl into that hole again. Yet, I couldn’t guarantee that wouldn’t happen. Watching how peaceful the waves were lapping on the shore, I could almost believe that things would work out and that she wouldn’t run from me; that she would actually understand.
I knew my sister was right, but I hadn’t wanted to admit it. I needed to do this soon, before we became anymore invested. Before she became more invested. Before watching her go would break me into pieces.
I jumped back on my bike and headed back to her house, anxious to get it over with. I had to find her and do this now, before I lost my nerve. Her driveway loomed ahead, but I could tell immediately that she wasn’t there. I could drive around for hours looking for her but I already knew where she would be this early in the morning. The tires ate up the road in front of me, as I headed to the place beneath the red maple in the cemetery, the place I had found her before.
The air was crisp with a slight chill, although the sky was beginning to wake up to the east. I breathed deeply and started on my morning jog. My thoughts were swirling already with visions of Will. I had fallen hopelessly in love with him. Of this I was positive. I hadn’t felt like this ever, and I couldn’t believe it. I felt lighter for the first time in years. I’m was not sure when he slipped out last night, but while I do know that my bed felt empty waking up without him in it, falling asleep in his arms was a delicious feeling I would never tire of.
Despite my euphoria today, there was still a small part in the back of my brain that didn’t feel right. Perhaps it was my own mind not allowing myself to be truly happy. I desperately missed my brother at times like this and maybe this was a form of sabotage.
I tried my best to push it out of my head and concentrate on the pounding of my feet on the pavement. My hand found the volume and turned my iPod up louder, needing to drown out my thoughts. There were very few leaves left on the trees and it was clear that winter would be here soon. I passed house after house, eating up the ground beneath me until it was clear where I was going. So much for an easy jog.
The huge gates of the cemetery loomed ahead, and I pushed myself faster to reach them. They creaked under my touch as I opened them and slipped in. I crept quietly so as not to disturb the silence of the morning.
I meandered through the paths to the corner where my brother lay. I could see someone through the dusk already near there. How strange to encounter someone else here so early in the morning. The person was standing a little ways off from Aaron’s grave. I slowed, not wanting to intrude on someone else’s private time and watched as the person bent down and looked as if they were brushing off a stone. He stood abruptly and shoved his hands in his pockets, shoulders hunching over either in the morning chill or in sadness. As I walked closer, the silhouette became familiar to me. The way the broad shoulders filled out the leather jacket and short, dark hair hung just past eyes that I knew were a shade of gray. It was someone I knew well. Will. I smiled and began to walk faster again. He must have known that I would be here this morning and thought he would meet me.
“Hi,” I greeted warmly, as I grabbed his hand and kissed his cheek. He wrapped his arms loosely around me, making me shiver beneath his touch. I quickly attributed it to the coolness in the morning air and not to the coolness of his touch. “What are you doing here? I mean, not that I’m not happy to see you, but it’s really early and it is a cemetery.”
The sun rose higher, sending rays of light through the trees, like fingers reaching and stretching toward me. Somewhere in the distance, a bird called out softly.
He shifted away from me and slid his hands down my arms to grasp my hands lightly. Glancing sideways, he began to lead me away but stopped underneath the naked maple tree that was near.
“Jules, I need to talk to you.” His face was somber and full of longing. His eyes were dark and stormy today. I didn’t understand. Whatever was bothering him, was something all encompassing.
“I’m listening.” I walked over to Aaron’s grave, staring down at the letters carved in the granite, trying to hide the uneasy look that I knew was on my face.
“There’s something I need to tell you.” His voice faltered as he hesitated and his silence swallowed me whole, waiting for him to continue. “I’m not who you think I am.”
I bent down to trace the cold letters of my brother’s name and breathed a small sigh of relief. No one is who they think they are. Was this the big secret he had been keeping from me? I thought we had already been over this. I mean, it’s not like I didn’t have my own secrets.
“Will, none of us are who we think we are. It’s what other people see that’s important.” I tried to keep my tone even, to hide the hint of amusement in my voice.
“Yes, but…” he hesitated. “I’m not like you.”
I stood up and took a step toward him, but the look on his face stopped me from going any further. He stared at me intently, his gaze no longer somber but hard and steadfast, eyes turning a dark charcoal. Then he didn’t seem to be looking at me so much as through me, as though this whole conversation was one giant inconvenience. I looked away, hurt by this sudden change. The cynical part of me that had been warning me all along was now celebrating. I looked away toward the trees so that I could respond without looking at him.
“Of course you aren’t, we are all different but that’s okay. What is this about anyway? ” I swallowed hard, my confidence beginning to slide like sand in a sieve. Slow but deliberate. I knew where this was going now and like the sand, it would only be a matter of time before I was empty.
“That’s not what I mean.” His eyes changed again, swimming with confusion as he looked back at me.
“What do you mean then?” I hugged my arms around me, careful not to look at him again.
He began to pace quietly near the graves he had been by before and then stopped suddenly. He kept glancing toward the ground nervously, as if the words he was trying to find were lost in the grass.
“I’ve done some things in my life that I’m not proud of,” he offered tentatively. “I have hurt people.”
I sucked in my breath quickly and held it until my lungs burned, trying to put my mind around what Will had just admitted. Part of me didn’t believe it or didn’t want to believe it, but the apprehensive side knew that all along. Finally, I exhaled loudly and placed my hands on my hips cautiously.
“You’ve… hurt… people? I don’t understand.” I stepped back from him, not sure what to do anymore. The part of me that had felt undecided was now screaming at me. A stick crackled beneath my foot, and I jumped slightly at the unexpected sound.
“I guess… well… I hung out with some people in Chicago that kind of got into some trouble.” His eyes wandered to a spot just over my shoulder, and I couldn’t help but look to see if someone was over there. There was nothing but the trees and a few leaves blowing around.
“But it’s not who I am anymore,” he continued. “I didn’t know how to control… I mean, I didn’t know what I was doing. You have to believe that I am not that same person. You have made me a better person.” His voice was pleading with me now, as he turned his gaze to me, the intensity in his eyes pulled me toward him and made me want to turn away, all at the same time.
I didn’t know how to respond, so I just stood there listening to the leaves rustling and the quiet sounds of the small creatures in the trees around me. I felt paralyzed as I tried to put it all together in my mind. Chicago. There had been some problems in Chicago lately. No, not problems. There had been killings in Chicago lately. He couldn’t be. There was no way that he was involved, yet he said that he had hurt people.
“Chicago,” I heard my lips whisper. “Those killings… ” My voice trailed off, hoping to God that I was wrong. I cou
ldn’t get the rest out but the look on his face told me my suspicions were right.
He put his hands in his pockets and glanced nervously toward the spot over my shoulder that he kept staring at.
“I had to. Or at least I thought I had to. I thought it was part of who I am.” His voice was barely audible but there was a hardness to it. Something dark and distant that didn’t feel right. “I’m not human.” He said it forcefully and then looked straight at me, his eyes now flaring. “I’m immortal.”
The world was suddenly still. As if time itself had stopped. The cool breeze that had been blowing through the trees seemed to stop at once, and the chatter of the woods ceased.
“Immortal. What do you mean? Like a vampire?” My mind stumbled over the fantastical word, spitting out images of comic book-like characters, creatures of the night, bats, blood, and things not real. “I don’t… vampires don’t exist.” Or at least I didn’t think they did.
“I’m not a vampire, although I do need blood to survive. I’m an immortal. My family… there was an accident… it’s an illness… a curse.”
The way he said it sent chills down my spine, causing me to look around nervously.
“This is crazy. I don’t believe you.” But even as I said it, I knew that it was true. Slowly backing up from him, I saw what he had been staring at over my shoulder and his dark eyes filled with pain. Sometime in the stillness, he had moved back toward it. He followed my glance down to the words on the grave at his feet. He began to slowly walk toward me reaching his hand out.
“Julia… love… please. I love you. I want to be a better person. You make me want to… live. I’m not that thing anymore, but I needed you to know the truth. I just want to love you. Please, let me love you,” he pleaded.
The wind picked up again as if on cue and swirled around me. The sound of leaves on stone turned my attention back to the ones near our feet that Will had kept looking at. With fists clenched at my side, I began to walk slowly toward them. Within a few feet, I was able to clearly read the closest aged stone. Surrounded by green moss were the words, William Edmund Bradley 1889-1910. I didn’t need to read the others. I already knew they would contain the names of his father, mother, and Celia. The accident, the rumors, they were true. And they were about him.
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