"Are you mocking me?" I panted as I kept my rhythmic jog down the old path around the lake.

"No, not at all" He laughed, no sound of exhaustion in his breath, but a hint of sarcasm was detectable.

I didn't say anything in response, focusing on the slight burn in my calves that was growing steadily every lap I did.

I had been in Dallas for an entire month. I hated it. The heat of the day was too much for me to do anything outside in, so all of the outdoor activities I enjoyed back in New York had to wait until the sun had set; the temperature decreasing to a more tolerable degree.

"Why are you doing this, Timothy?" I asked after another moment of silence, slowing my pace.

"Your question confuses me." He simply stated.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at him.

"You may be a vamp now, but you're still the same old pain in my ass. You realize that, right?" I said back to him between intakes of deep breaths, slowing my pace another notch in the process.

"Don't try to side step your way out of answering: Why are you doing this?" I questioned again. I had settled my pace to slow jog in order to bring my heart rate back down before stopping my run for that day.

I didn't need to glance at him to know that his brow would be furrowed in thought. He was thinking of a way to avoid answering my question.

As I jogged the last final leg around the lake, Timothy vamped a head of me spouting some bull about "Waiting at the car."

It's been 2 months since Timothy had been turned. Two months since my entire life completely changed.

"911 What's your emergency?"

"Uhm…I'd like to file a missing person's report?"

"Name?"

"Timothy Mendez."

"Not the missing person's, yours' sweetie"

"Catalina Bastos"

"And what is your relationship to the person?"

"I'm his friend."

"I'm sorry, we can only accept reports from family members."

"Well, seeing how he has no family, I guess I'm the next best thing, huh?"

"You will have to come down to the station. Please bring a picture of him with you on your visit."

Memories faded from my mind as I walked up to the car. Timothy could always sense whenever I thought of negative things. I noticed he was sitting on the driver's side, seat reclined all the way back. I opened the door to our Toyota Camry silently and sat as gracefully into the passenger's seat as I could after a 2 mile run. Which basically meant plopping myself in, letting out a loud sigh.

I took a few sips from my water bottle, then started to recline my seat fully, just like he had done. It was our post-run tradition. We would lie in our seats like this for minutes, listening to music and just focusing on taking deep breaths.

When my seat was fully back though, Timothy was over me.

I gasped at his sudden closeness and felt my heart skip a beat.

He had my head pinned between his hands on my seat, holding his upper body up off me, so he didn't cut off my breathing with his weight.

He did nothing to support his lower body though, and his hips were pressed into mine, which got my heartbeat beating slightly faster than normal.

His green eyes stared back at me; there was something in them I couldn't place. It seemed as if he was…fighting with himself.

"I'm trying to learn self control." He said quietly.

"And uh, how's that working out for ya?" I asked trying to keep my voice steady. Timothy has always been just a friend, and him being this close made me very nervous about what could happen.

"Well, I haven't drained you of every drop of blood in your body. So I'd say, pretty good." He muttered with a smirk. His fangs were extended.

Why did that send a shiver of excitement up my spine?

I felt him grab my face, a little roughly, and he turned my face up and to the side. My neck was completely exposed to him.

I shut my eyes quickly and felt my heart began to beat harder in my chest.

"Timothy, what are you doing?" I asked. I was surprised at how my voice stayed strong and didn't falter. I felt him press his lips to my neck-more specifically my jugular vein. I then heard him take a deep breath in.

He was SMELLING me. I felt as if I was about to gag. Timothy had never shown any sign that he would drink from me. Now he's on top of me, in a car, SMELLING me.

As if reading my mind, he spoke. "I never was once interested in feeding from you. Then, when you started running, your heartbeat was so strong. Then you started sweating. Oh God. The scent of you was so strong." He was muttering into my neck, and he actually grinded his hips against mine. Then I felt it.

Timothy Mendez had a boner.

I tried, and failed, to hold back the wave of giggles. My best friend since I was 13. The boy I had grown to love as brother for 5 years had boner. From my SCENT.

"Why are you laughing?" he demanded, a hint of anger in his voice.

"DUDE! DO NOT use that tone of voice with me!" I scolded him. I reached down to grab his crotch in a hope of snapping him out of whatever mind frame he was in. "You have a fuckin hard on. From ME. I'm a little grossed out."

He groaned and rubbed against my hand.

"You're heartbeat tells a different story, my dear Cat." He whispered, locking eyes with me.

I gasped, and in a flash, his face was buried into my neck.

I felt a small pinch on my neck, then his tongue on the exact spot.

He had cut me with one of his fangs, and was drinking from me.

"TIMOTHY!" I screamed, and attempted to push him off me. This entire situation was way to awkward for me to handle.

He removed himself from my neck and sat up slightly, looking out the windows with a frightened look on his face.

"Oh shit." He muttered.

The door of the car was flung open, and Timothy was being dragged out of the vehicle.