'Oh, that's a bright light. Ugh! I don't want to get up and close my curtains.' The final thought brought me to the conscious world in a complete and utter fashion. 'My room doesn't have a window on that wall.' I muse.
That's when I notice I'm not in my own apartment. I look to find myself in a bright, sterile, inhumanely white hospital room. I try to shift in bed only to be met with waves of immeasurable pain. Pulling the sheets away from my form, I notice bandages wrapped around the entirety of my torso and a hard cast reaching from above my kneecap to the base of my toes along the right extremity. My left arm is in a sling and an ACE bandage covers the wrist and splint-secured thumb which I can see on the other side.
"Oh good, Mr. Bolton. You're awake." A bubbly nurse exclaims upon entrance.
"This is news, how?" I respond, surprised how scratchy my throat feels.
Her face seems to drop. "I'm sorry you don't feel well. But, I was only saying…"
Okay. So now it's my turn to feel embarrassed. "I apologize. I tend to be sarcastic at times." I search herself eyes. They are the same honey-brown as my amber pendant around my neck. I subconsciously reach for it, only to find it missing. She reaches onto the bedside table, grabs it, and reattaches it around my neck. "Beg pardon, but could I at least know your name? I hate to just yell 'Nurse' when I need something."
She giggled a bit, and I have come to the conclusion that she doesn't do so often. "Well, for one: I'm not a nurse. Two: the name's Rosalie Hale. Three: think of calling me anything other than 'Rose' and I'll make you wish that half-breed had finished you in Bellingham."
"If you're not a nurse…" I start to panic. I realize I don't know where my call button is and begin to panic. I find the button and begin to reach for it. Rose jumps from herself seat at the foot of my bed rushes to the wrist and call button on the other side. I feel herself touch before my eyes register that she has moved. The only thing crossing my mind is that herself hands are impossibly cold, her touch is as gentle as a mother combing a newborn's hair from his eyes, and the indeterminable strength radiating from herself gorgeous being.
"Relax and I will tell you everything." I physically make myself go limp under her confinement. "Your doctor, Dr. Cullen, is my foster father. Because of the nature of the attack, you have been left in my care while the others hunt for your attacker."
"Excuse me?" I mutter. "Who are 'the others' and why on Earth would you 'hunt' my attacker? Why not let the police handle it?"
"The police can't handle him. Do you want to know the whole story? It's a little hard to believe, but that doesn't make it any less true." She gazes into my eyes, almost as if she were searching my soul.
"How about we start with what happened tonight." I offer.
"You mean last week?" She questions.
"No, I mean the assault." I respond.
"Right. You were attacked at Western Washington University on Friday night." I nod with a 'that's what I'm saying' eye-widening gesture. "Today is Tuesday, Hun."
I grow pale at the thought. How could I have slept for three days straight? "Okay… I guess the beginning would be the best place to start, then." I answer with a confused and apologetic tone.
***
Rose explained everything to me. From the vegetarian vampires to the wolf-people on the reservation. The longer she spoke, the more incredible it seemed.
"I know I'm loopy on the drugs, but c'mon! Vampires aren't real, Rose. I'm coherent enough to know that much, at least." I respond to her audacious claim.
Rose seamlessly moves from herself position by my injured shin, still holding my hand by the base of the thumb, and crouches next to my ear. In an almost-inaudible whisper, "Really?" She begins to stand, close enough that all I can see is her face, but far enough away that I see it clearly. She begins to smile with a graceful movement, almost as if she were commanding each muscle independently. That's when I saw them. Her canines protruded against her bottom lip. As the smile grew, each of herself teeth took on a monstrous, pointy edge and this beauty is revealed to be the unholy creature she professed to be.
"Please, don't kill me." I squeak. All the air has since left my lungs and I know I'm in no shape to run away.
She slapped me across the face, instantly regretting the amount of force behind it. "You're more of a monster than I am, Bolton." She seemingly spat the words and quickly returned to her original spot along my uninjured leg.
She calmly continues. "The vampire, James, the one who turned my sister-in-law, raped a Quileute woman by the name of Emily. Her offspring, ironically named Jameson, is the 'man' who attacked you."
"Why me? I don't know the guy. There has to be a reason." I plea, still unconvinced that she isn't going to off me.
"Actually, it's the Werewolf in him that has brought forth his vampire nature. Do you know what imprinting is?" She asks. I can only respond with a raucous shake of my head. "A wolf has to search for his soul mate, the one woman that has left an indelible mark on his life, personality, and his spirit. He looks for the one who was created solely to complete him. To be the yang to his yin." I acknowledge what she says. "He sees you as a threat on his quest."
I laugh at the remark. "He's crushing on Gabriella? She dumped me at graduation. He can have the bitchy slut for all I care."
It's true. Gabby got what she wanted from me. Not only did she get to be popular, but she also got my first born. I only know of my daughter because a doctor called and asked if I wanted to see her, much to Gabby's dismay. Although I will miss Eloisa Angeline every day of my life, I find sick comfort in the fact that she was stillborn. Gabby did everything to ruin my life, and God decided that a child should never be used as a bargaining chip. In His mercy, I'm glad that my little girl is with Him right now.
"The only way it could be her is if she has imprinted onto you." Rose pulls me out of a wave of depression and rage. "From what you tell me, it's not her."
I think back, trying to figure who could be my soul mate. Gabby is the only girlfriend I've had, so things just turned a deeper shade of creepy.
Rose growls from the back of her throat. Suddenly, at the window, a man seemingly floats outside. Upon closer inspection, he is standing with just his toes on the sill, precariously perching himself so as to appear ethereal. I cower at the sight of him, only memories of burning and the snapping of bone fill my thoughts.
He breaks through the glass, and immediately is entangled with my she-protector. "By the way, Bitch," he snarls, "Mommy the curandera gave me this, especially for you." He throws an open flask at Rose who immediately slumps to the floor, unconscious. Jameson approaches, grabs my jaw as to adhere my mandible to the soft palette. With his other hand, he pinches my nostrils shut. His strength is enough to overpower my medicated form, and I pass out, due to the asphyxiation.
***
I wake as I feel my body hit a cement floor. My captor binds me to what I can only guess is a septic line coming through an equally hard basement wall. My eyes cannot make sense of the blurry images crossing the only light source. "Not yet, Charming." A sinister voice mutters as a moistened cloth is placed in front of my nose and mouth. Why didn't he use the chloroform earlier?
A groggy haze surrounds me. I can only assume that I've been unconscious for hours. Another door bursts open, one telling me I am definitely in a cellar. Two figures descend the wooden ladder between the ground-level door and the base of the house created when laying the foundation. One figure, decidedly female, moves with such grace and fluidity, that I thought it was Rose. My doom-filled spirit is lifted with said realization. The other figure, possibly female and yet, definitely androgynous, moves at a much slower, more cumbersome pace. In human standards, the second figure is still very quick, but not compared to his/her compatriot who cannot be a mortal.
The woman came up and held my face in herself right hand. "You're too late, Alice." The sinister voice came from the bottom of the stairwell. After seeing her visibly stiffen, I turn my gaze to the source of the voice. Jameson, who was previously sitting on the third step, now stands with a canine excitement, but still, an undead grace.
He is suddenly at my side, instantly throwing the female towards the figure of indeterminate sex. They both collide, the second figure's head smacking on the penultimate rung of the wooden ladder.
"You don't have to do this, Jay." The second figure is now pleading with the man that is about to kill me. Now I know that the figure is male, and a part of me wonders who it could be. Apparently, this guy thinks that I'm his soul mate. I internally laugh at the idea.
I'm not a homophobe, mind you. I've met plenty of gay men in my short tenure in the theatre. And, who's to say that I don't find some of them attractive? Sure, I'm a bisexual, but I've never been with anybody except Gabby, and I never pursue it because I figure I'll end up with a woman anyway.
Jameson uses a fingernail and slits my throat with it. A startled yip comes from the male. Suddenly, both doors are bombarded with entering creatures. Giant wolves are jumping in through the cellar entrance while a half-dozen humanoids, most likely vampires, come rushing down the stairs. Two vampires hold Jameson still while a wolf pounces onto him. I see my abuser's torso being ripped from his shoulder sockets under the force of the wild beast. The next thing I know, his head rolls between my legs, completely severed from the rest of his psychotic self.
***
The unidentified male who claimed to love me has vanished by the time I awaken. I am once again in the hospital, yet the room is different.
"Troy, I'm glad you're awake." This hot blond doctor greets my opening eyelids. He appears to be in his mid-twenties. "I'm Dr. Cullen. We need to discuss what has happened."
Somehow a snort escapes my nostrils, betraying the calm demeanor on my face. He looks at me inquisitively. "Sorry. I thought you said you're Rose's father."
"But I am. Well, not so much 'father' as 'sire'." I fully understand what he's saying now.
After I promise to keep his family's secret, he takes a deep breath. "So, now onto how this affects you. Your leg is broken in seven places, including the ankle. Add that to four ribs, a thumb, a wrist, and your pulverized rotator cuff and it's quite a job he pulled on you." I couldn't even feel the pain any longer. It just seemed so insubstantial.
"Okay, Doc. How long until I'm back on the court?" I ask him. His concerned expression shift into one of utter despair.
"Troy, the ankle alone guaranties that you'll never play professional ball. You're looking at having to learn how to walk again. Not to mention the major reconstructive surgery in the shoulder."
I can't help it. I begin to cry. "Then, there goes my scholarship. I don't even have enough money to put myself through community college much less…" My sobs become too prevalent to continue.
"Troy, there's more." Dr. Cullen continued. "Jameson tried to blackmail your imprint into loving him before he attacked you. He thought that making you hate your lover was more of a reason to run into that monster's arms than your death." I listen, even though the logic has failed me. "Jameson killed your folks, Troy. There's nothing for you in Albuquerque." I stop my wailing. I'm too surprised to do anything.
"I can help, Troy." He whispers. "You've been expelled from Cal U for missing too many classes. I'm on the admissions panel at NYU. If you want to go there, you can live with Alice, you've already met her, and her mate, Jasper."
"Obviously, I need a moment to process all of this. I am truly grateful, but I cannot accept such generosity without pondering a bit." I explain.
"Sure thing, Son. I will set things up in New York, and you have three days until the hospital can release you."
"I appreciate it. I shall have a decision by then." I smile, causing the same reaction in the older man. He pats me on the (good) shoulder and leaves the room.
***
"I can't believe it's been three months since I've moved in, guys." I state to the loving couple behind me as I hobble through the loft door. Alice and Jasper each have multiple bags of groceries and step around me as I pull the stubborn key from the doorknob.
"I know, right?" Alice says as she easily lifts me in one arm and deposits me onto the plush sofa. "Okay. I have to go, but you're both coming to the show tonight. No more excuses." With that comment, Jasper and I are left to our own devices; Alice has parted our company.
Inside my head, all I can think about is seeing the play that Alice is in. "Jasper, quit it. I already agreed to go." I want to smack him, but due to my disability slowing all movements and his super-enhanced senses, I know it would be fruitless.
We finally make our way to the theatre, and again I vow that someday I will be onstage. I sit in the surprisingly comfortable seat and look over the near-Broadway immaculate reproduction of the playbill given to me at the door.
"Blah, blah , blah… Melchior Gabor played by a name that means nothing to me… Wendla Bergmann…some no-name chick with huge knockers…Ah! Here it is! Ilse played by the wonderful, the sexual, the daughter of Aphrodite herself: Alice Cullen!!" I acclaim from my seat, only audible to Jasper and myself.
Suddenly, the lights begin to dim and the production begins. After the opening mini-scene, the boys run onstage and pretend to be in a classroom. The entire time, I didn't recognize him.
"Oh Desdemona," I automatically pique my ears to the sound of that voice. I quickly reopen my playbill and sure enough: Hanschen Rilow…played by Ryan Evans.
After the show, I demand to get to the stage door. "She'll be home in an hour dude. Let's just wait." Jasper argued. I snap at him like I've never felt before.
"Who says that she's the one I want to see?" Jasper physically cowers at the tone of my voice. "I went to high school with 'Hanschen'.
So, we went. I ended up renting a wheelchair so I can get around. Only in New York City can someone legitimately say, 'It's only thirty-seven blocks. Let's walk'. So, I'm sitting in my chair behind half-dozen enthusiastic girls and off to the side a bit. I see him walk through the door and whisper, "Oh shit. I can't do this." I attempt to shove Jasper behind the chair so we can get away.
Ryan is holding the hand of the guy who played Melchior, I think his name is Jake. It's the neophyte who spots us. "Jazz! Hold up!" He politely passes the throng of girls, runs to us, and stands in front of my chair. To make things worse, he's still holding Ryan's hand.
I watch Ry's reaction from the corner of my eye as Jasper introduces me to Jacob Black. At the utterance of my name his eyes go wide and he visibly pales. "Dude, you look like you've seen a ghost." Jacob prods.
Ryan leans toward Jacob and whispers something in the Quileute's ear. "He's your imprint?!" Jacob exclaims, much louder than necessary, and by all response, than anticipated also.
After much awkwardness, and Alice's arrival to boot, we decide to grab dinner. The Restaurant is too packed for us to sit together. Three spots at the dining bar and a table for two. "Let's allow Ryan and Troy to get reacquainted." Alice offered while pulling Jasper and Jacob to the bar. With much consternation, Ryan takes hold of the handles on my chair and directs us both to the isolated table.
We sat in silence for until after the food arrived. Suddenly, he decides to speak. "What are you doing here, Troy? What's going on?" His voice sounds so broken-hearted that it confuses me.
"I'm eating." I answer while gesturing to the near-empty plate in front of me.
"No, seriously. How are you here?" I give him a look that states 'I'm lost. Back the train up'. Ryan leans closer. "They told me you had died."
I aspirate on the sip of water I don't realize I'm drinking. "'They'?"
"The Cullens. I asked what happened to you and they said you were 'beyond saving'."
"I don't know why they'd say that. I think we need to have a discussion after dinner. You know where Alice and Jazz live?"
"I should hope so. We live on the same floor as each other."
I acknowledged. At that moment, Jacob chooses to approach the table. "I'll see you at home. I'm catching a cab with the others. Dinner's already been paid." He abruptly turns on his heel and with a very gay flourish, walks away.
"I'm happy you found someone." I mutter. I don't realize I said it, because I certainly didn't mean it.
Ryan laughs without control. "You think we're together?! We're roommates. Nothing more."
"But at the theatre…"
"He hates telling straight girls that He's not interested, so we power actuality like a couple." I can feel the relief wash over me and I almost yell at Jasper for it, to notice that he's not there. "There's only one person for me, and he's as hetero as they come."
I don't know what to say, so I merely nod and continue to eat.
I'm sitting in the cab after getting a bag of fresh roasted cashews from a Chinese restaurant in the same block as our restaurant. Ryan climbs in after stashing the wheelchair in the trunk.
I hand him a fortune cookie which was given to me by the owner's wife while she handed me the cashews. "Remember," she warns "Bad luck will reign if you don't follow the instructions exactly."
The words come to my mind so I make sure to warn Ryan also. He cracks open his cookie. "'A leap of faith shows your willingness to take the gifts that come your way. Take the biggest chance that comes to your mind.'" Ryan looks scared for a second.
"Well? What are you going to do?" I ask.
Ryan shrugs. "Nothing. I don't believe in superstition."
"Really? What if I wish you good luck for your performance tomorrow?" I exclaim in disbelief.
"You wouldn't dare!" He screeches.
"Try me." I look him hard in the face and he resigns. "So, what's your leap of faith?"
At that moment, Ryan lunges himself onto me, attacking my lips with his own. After a moment of shock, I respond in kind. I can feel him crying as he pulls his lips away and rests his forehead against mine. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have."
I rest his head upon my shoulder and slowly tough his prone body. My thumb strokes his cheek, effectively wiping away his tears. My head is reeling in response. The rest of the ride back to our building, I just hold him and whisper insubstantial words to comfort him.
In the elevator, Ryan asks, "What did your fortune say?" I haven't even opened it.
"Oh dear. I got three slips. 'Good things come to those who wait. Better things come to the one who didn't know he was waiting at all.'" I look ultimate power to see Ryan. His sad smile breaks my heart. "'Sometimes the strongest will needs to be pushed in the right direction. You must read last slip aloud in the present company. Do not read it silently first.'"
Ryan is almost giddy. The third slip is usually very inappropriate. "What's it say? What's it say?"
"'Your pagoda, or mine?'" Both of us stay perfectly still, one blanching at the prospect and the other blushing in embarrassment. Ryan opens the door to my apartment to find the other three passed out in front of a movie on the TV.
"My pagoda it is." Ryan backs the both of us into the hall once more.
I maneuver my way to Ryan's couch and he sits on the other side. I lean over and take his lips in my own. I think about all the times we were so happy in each others company back in New Mexico. After a half-hour of devouring anything and everything the opposite is willing to give of himself, I rest my forehead against his and command, "Show me that which I've been missing, Ry. This is where I need to be. I belong in your arms for eternity. Make me yours."
We do just that. Right there on the couch, my lover takes me completely. Twice.
"Third time's the charm, baby." Ryan smiles.