Chapter 3 (Friday Night)
Will you still hold me when you see what I have done?
Will you still kiss me the same when you taste my victim's blood?
So crimson and red, I feel it flowing from your lips.
My heart is dead and so are you. -Crimson by Atreyu
We arrive at Sean Prescott's house, home to Nathan Prescott. It's a very large mansion with two floors. Over to the right I see a whole bunch of people in the pool. I get out of Warren's Volkswagen beetle, which without a doubt was a gift from his parents: who are very much hippies. A full moon greets my eyes to the right of the house. The grass has a slick sheen of moisture to it. Just looking at the moon makes my hair raise. I feel almost bestial in its light. For now I'll have to resist its influence.
I'm starting to regret coming to this party, for several reasons. I'm only going because I want to know if Warren is as bad as Victoria says he is. Maybe I can ask him, or maybe his actions will speak for him. I wonder if Victoria came to the party too? Probably not posh enough, but then again this is Sean Prescott's house. I really hope I don't bump into her, it could cause a scene.
"This place is pretty bangin', yeah?" Warren says to me. It takes me a couple seconds to realize he's talking to me.
"Yeah, I guess you could call it that. Just lead me to the booze I guess." I don't really know what I'm supposed to say. I've drank alcohol before with my moms, but never to the point where I really felt much.
Warren grabs my hand as we walk through the front door. It throws me off guard because I have the urge to pull away or hit him. Then I realize he only did it because of the large amount of people I could get lost in. Wow, maybe Victoria's actually wrong about him. Everything is way too noisy though, lights are flashing from a strobe-light set up in a corner of the living room. The house is absolutely huge, and full of people. Are there even this many students at Blackwell?
Warren leads me through a hallway with a lot of doors, each one is pouring light out into the hallway. I really don't want to accidentally peek into one of the rooms so I just look straight ahead. The music is less loud now that we're far away from the front of the house. Warren seems like he really knows the layout of the Prescott's house, has he been here before?
"Hey Warren." I say. He pauses and turns around. "Do you know where we're going?"
"Yeah, I've been here for...parties before, the kitchen should be up ahead and to the right." He says.
"Okay, I was just worried, this place is huge."
He nods and we keep walking down the hallway until we find the kitchen door. Its just as I expected, huge. The kitchen's big enough to host big parties, with enough stoves, utensils, and fridges to feed all of Blackwell Academy. Kegs, wine boxes, and bottles line the counter tops. Warren walks up and starts to look at the labels on each bottle. He pours himself a drink while I stand awkwardly. Why am I here? I'm starting to realize that following Warren around might be more of a chore.
"Hey, do you want anything, I could mix you a drink." Warren says holding up a bottle.
"I think I'll mix my own." I pick up a bottle of tequila that caught my eye earlier. I mix an ounce with some coke. I take a sip and cough.
"Haha, yeah its strong. There's some ice over there, might help water it down." I wonder if he thinks I'm an idiot for picking tequila. I probably am, but I just wanted to try it once. Alcohol tastes a lot better in your head than in reality.
After getting the ice in my drink and taking a few swallows I just sort of start to wander around without Warren. I stumble out into the back yard and there are two people standing around a campfire and smoking a joint. I'm starting to feel a bit tipsy and giddy.
As I'm about to leave one of them says, "Hey, don't be shy, come over and have a puff. We were just talking about Anarchy and LGBT rights." They seem cool. After all I am pansexual and I've been pretty out about it since the start of the year. Though I am supposed to be with Warren, to prove Victoria's gossip wrong. You know what, fuck it.
I approach them. They're all huddled around a fire pit, the flames are warm and bright. The one that spoke to me lifts their hood. The first thing I notice is that the girl is covered in piercings, not overly, but she has enough to look intimidating to most people. She's wearing a hoodie with a flag on it, though I can't quite see the colours, and her hair is dyed teal blue. She's actually quite cute too. The other person is barely visible in the firelight, but I can see they are wearing a leather jacket.
In total there are three of us, including me. The teal haired girl passes me the joint. I've never smoked weed, ever. But I've heard that it isn't much worse for your health than tobacco. I take a small puff and hold it. I've seen enough stoner stereotypes to know to hold it. The girl looks at me and smiles.
"Your first time?" She says. Her voice is androgynous, not unlike the way butch lesbians sound on TV. Now I'm not even sure she's a she. Regardless the alcohol is getting to me, and I start wondering what it would feel like to kiss her.
"Yeah," I say exhaling, "sorry if this is weird or something, but are you a guy or a girl." God, I probably shouldn't have asked that. I take a swallow of my drink.
She starts laughing, I don't know what's so funny. Then it hits me, and I start laughing. Its the weed. I'm not laughing at anything funny. This is weird, but I keep laughing. When we stop laughing she says, "I'm not really either." The flames of the fire begin to look like coiling snakes. Their erotic tangle distracts me.
I don't even think before it comes out of my mouth."But, like how? Are you missing your private parts."
She grins wide and says, "I'm transgender, and I'm not a guy or a girl. It's really as simple as that. Oh, and my name's Casey Blair by the way."
"Oh, cool. My sister is trans, we don't really talk anymore though, she's off somewhere in Europe. And, good to meet you Casey." I ask Casey, "Do I use 'she' or 'he' pronouns?"
"Neither actually, I use 'they, them, their'," They take a long drag on the joint and continue speaking, "cool, were your parents accepting of your sister?"
"Surprisingly my parents are lesbians, and wow are they ever not accepting of being LGB or T. I'm not even out as pansexual to them. They seem to want us both to have a 'normal TM' life." I take another swallow of my drink, the flames look muted and dull through the glass, "Isn't 'they' only plural?" I ask.
A guy with plugs in his ears and short brown hair says, "There's this misconception that 'they' pronouns are automatically plural, but they're actually both singular and plural. Lots of writers in the past have used non-gendered pronouns to describe characters."
"Oh, cool. I didn't know that." I say.
Casey points to the brown haired guy and says, "That's Jake Saffron. Like the spice."
"Ooo spicy, haha. Nice to meet you Jake. I'm Max. Like...well Maximum." I say.
He reaches out and shakes my hand. "Haha, nice to meet you as well."
Casey Passes the joint to me and says, "Sorry to hear about your parents not being accepting, I bet it's hard being in the closet."
"Yeah it is. I'm out at my school here though, so that's good. Hey Jake, are you trans?" I ask.
He laughs and says, "Casey, now you've gotten Max paranoid."
Both Casey and Jake start laughing hysterically. I don't know what's funny but I start laughing as well.
"Hey, you guys seem pretty cool. Would you mind if I added you on Facebook?" I ask.
"Yeah go ahead." Casey says.
"Sounds good to me." Jake says.
We talk for awhile about LGBT issues and weed prohibition. I agree with most of what they say, and I'm pleasantly surprised. I haven't really known people this cool since I moved from Fourport Island to Arcadia. I miss my friends there. Mostly I miss Chloe. I wish she could be here talking to these awesome people.
I look up at the sky. Dumb mistake, I see the moon again and I feel my hair stand on end. I feel like I have claws, and why is my arm so damn itchy. I excuse myself from Jake and Casey. I hide my hands in my hoodie and run to the bathroom inside the house. Only, I don't know where I'm going.
I stand in a hallway upstairs, trying not to look suspicious. I look at my right forearm and see that it is starting to sprout black hairs, each one has a greenish glow as it forms. God why here. I mean I should have known, it's been happening since I was a teenager. This is definitely not the first time. I feel like I should be on a "Teen Werewolf" show, the only difference is, I turn into a cat.. I just need to calm down, then the change will stop. I take deep breaths and slowly the feeling of phantom claws goes away. Next, the itchy feeling on my arm goes away.
I need to splash water on myself, I'm too overheated. It's like the heat that went toward my transformation was rerouted. I feel like I'm being baked on a dry savannah plain. I frantically start jiggling doorknobs and opening doors. I open a door that is slightly open and look at the floor, and it's tiled. I guess this should be the bathroom. I do a quick knock just in case. But there is no answer.
I push the door open to reveal a blonde and a girl with auburn hair and baggy skater pants. Both of them aren't wearing shirts, only their bras. The blonde girl is tall and she's kissing the other girls neck. I see the blonde girl's hand, but it only registers a second later that her nails are way longer and more pointy than normal. I can't be seeing things right, something's off. Skater girl sees me and pushes the blonde girl off of her.
"I-I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-" I try to say.
The blonde turns towards me cutting me off, "Get the fuck out you pervert!", and it's Victoria. She just stares at me with these entrancingly bright green eyes. Her face is brushed with red lust. I see liquid red near the corner of her mouth and down her chin. It looks like smeared lipstick, but lipstick doesn't look like...blood? That can't be blood right? No way, I must be tripping balls, was the weed laced with LSD? Maybe smoking and drinking is making me hallucinate.
"Max!" Victoria says to me. Her voice is clear like a bell. The skater girl is pulling her shirt back on, and she looks upset.
"I-I, ha-have to-t-t..." I turn and walk away. Through the hallway, the front door, the front yard. I push my legs faster and faster. But no matter how fast I run, I can't escape the image of Victoria's blood stained face.
I lay on my sofa in my dorm. It's uncomfortable and cold, but I don't really care right now. I can't sleep, as usual. Previously inflicted self harm cuts create a shiny zig-zag pattern across my thigh. In less than a day they won't even be scars, they'll be gone, and I'll still be here. I can't believe Max saw me. She has to know what I am now. I had to remove skater girl's memories about me, but I could never do that to Max. Unless it was a choice between the vampire elders killing Max, or me wiping Max's every last memory of me. Every time I fucking give into my urges I have to do something to fix the damage. I can't help but think that the same goes for my crush on Max.
I go to browse the internet on my phone, but I notice a text message. It's from Max. Hey, I'm sorry about earlier tonight, I can't sleep so I was wondering if you were still at the party.
Shit, she probably wants to know why my face was covered in blood. She fucking knows. On the up side, at least she knows I'm interested in girls. Victoria, that's just stupid, you think Max would be interested in you after what she saw. I text her back, No, I'm back in my dorm. Why?
After awhile I hear a knock at my door. I try to get up without falling, but I stumble into the table and bruise my shin. "Fuck, ouch. Yeah, I'll be right there." I say. I'm still drunk, great. Try not to say something stupid Victoria. I open the door, it's just a sleepy looking Max in pink animal print Pjs. She's so shameless I could kiss her. I smell wet cat and fresh rain on dirt. A dizzying mix of two very different smells. Weird, maybe she was petting a stray cat or something. It didn't rain tonight though. It just doesn't add up.
Max yawns, "Um, hi, I was wondering if you might want to hang out and talk about stuff...and things." She crosses her arms and looks down. I wonder what it would feel like to touch her chin, lift her face to mine. No, stop Victoria.
"Sure, come in." I say. The irony, a half vampire inviting a human into her room.
Max walks over to the couch and she's about to sit down when I interject, "That's not exactly the most comfortable couch," She stops and looks over at me, she looks sleepy, "you can sit on my bed, if you're okay with that."
"Thanks Victoria." Max sits down on my bed, she looks oddly comfortable. Like most people would feel weird about sitting on someone's bed but not her. I feel my pulse rise, which is not normal. Most of the time my pulse is a slow rhythm, much slower than any human's heart. I'm getting too flustered about the fact that she feels comfortable on my bed. It's stupid really. It's not like she even likes me. I sit down next to her. How could she like something like me.
"How much did you see?" I ask, hoping that she's in at least as much denial about my guilt as a bloodsucker as she is about Warren's shitty bragging.
"I saw you," she pauses and looks as though she's trying to remember, "you were kissing that girls neck." She must be holding back, maybe she doesn't want to say because she's afraid of me.
"And you didn't see anything else?" I say. Maybe if she didn't see the blood on my face, then I won't have to alter her memories.
"No, I just came in and saw you two kissing." Max yawns and covers her mouth.
Thank the gods, she didn't see the blood on my mouth. "So, I guess you know now that I'm into girls."
"Yeah, I could tell since the start of the school year. Just the way you look at girls, especially the really cute ones." Max laughs.
I give her a serious look. "Don't ever tell anyone about me liking girls, okay?"
"Okay. Just tell me something honestly. A secret only you know." Max says, she sits up more as though interested in what I might say.
I obviously can't tell her about being a half vampire. I can't really admit to liking her, she might not even like me. After all I'm such a bitch to everyone. It isn't really my fault, I have to be. "I, um, have this crush on a cute girl. But I'm not sure if she likes me."
"That's a good one. Maybe I can help, tell me more about her." Max says. I pick up from her energy that she really doesn't know I'm trying to flirt. She's so oblivious.
"Well, she's in my photography class. She's really cute, and I don't think she would ever be interested in someone like me." I say. My heartbeat stays at it's quickened rhythm, like a person skipping rope.
"Why is that? Maybe I can tell you if she likes you. I might know her. After all I am in the same photography class as you." Max looks so adorable in her Pjs, her hair looks like she hasn't brushed it. She's awkwardly rubbing her hand in a weird pattern.
"Max, I like you." I say point blank. I can't keep skirting the inevitable. I need to know and it's eating me up inside.
"Well I gues-" Max pauses and looks dumbfounded. I put my hand palm up on the bed next to her. She starts to trace patterns on my hand. I can feel her pulse. "You're really cold." she says. Her emotions are clear, I can sense her feelings for me.
"I know." That's when I clutch her hand gently and kiss her fast and very firm. She moans lightly and kisses me back. She reaches around me and hugs me tightly, her hands clutch the back of my Pjs. I pull away and feel lightheaded.
Max looks at me with her grey blue eyes, tinted from the moonlight. Her hair is tousled and tossed. A gestalt mess of beauty. I say, "Max."
She looks at me. Her eyes move scanning my face, like she's seeing me for the first time. "Tori."
"Is it okay if I sleep over tonight? I feel safe here." Max says. She looks so comfortable in my bed. It's weird to think that everything has changed at once. It's like the epiphany of my life. Me and her, we just make sense together.
"Yeah, it would be more than okay." I say.
We sit together and Max keeps tracing the same patterns on my hand. She gets up to pull the covers of my bed back, and slides in between the sheets. I take the outside of the bed, and slide in next to her.
I feel her hand on my arm. I reach over and stroke it with the same pattern. Then she says, "It's okay, you can come closer to warm up." I wish I could tell her that I don't need to get warm, even though I really want to cuddle with her. We overlap legs. I worry that the closer we get, the more likely I'll crush her emotions. There are just things I can't ever tell her, about me, about my past, and about Chloe Price.
"Why did you comfort me when Chloe got shot?" Max asks.
Everything at night feels between realms. Like nothing is completely real. I feel like I could tell her anything. "Because I had a friend who died. So I understand. Sometimes you just need someone to hold you. Someone to help you realize that you are solid, and that you are still here." I say. Max squeezes me tighter, I try to keep at least some distance from her.
"Why do you even like me?" I ask her. The silence in the room is airy. Expectant and pregnant with want of an answer.
"Because I feel like there is more to you Tori. A kindness beneath the act that you put on. You hurt just like I do. And I feel safe when I'm with you." Max says.
I can't believe she just called me Tori. No one has ever called me that. I move in slowly and kiss her on the cheek. Max kisses me back, only right on my lips. Her breath smells like tequila and weed, but I don't care because it's Max. Our lips meld and press together. I can hear her heartbeat, I can smell her blood. I pull away, I want this moment to be about her, not about blood. She looks afraid, like maybe she did something wrong. I need to say something quick, I don't want to see her like this.
"Okay. I'm going to be honest, just don't say anything until I'm done." I pause and Max just nods and looks confused, "Max, I like you because you just have this optimism about people. Mostly because you are you. I have to pretend to be Victoria Chase everyday. Can you put up with me being like that in public?"
Max gives me these cute pussycat eyes, "Yes, I can.", and a tear slides down her face; she's smiling. I hold her tighter, I feel warm, and loved.
