This chapter is absurdly long! Even for me! I'm sorry, but I just couldn't
bloody shut up! And it's 1.20am now, and I have an excursion tomorrow, and
. . . Oh, I'm a dead woman.
Lyrics don't belong to me, yada, thanks Hayley for the designer thingies, I know I used them all wrong, but I'm your stereotypical Aussie. Sorry about that. Oh, there goes a kangaroo!
. . . I'm kidding.
Okay, here we go. Please, bear with me?
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I was having the weirdest dream.
It was way freaky. And scary, in a way. I was in the kitchen. I'd just gotten news that my mum had been in a terrible freak accident. Her WCAL work bus had gone over a cliff. She was presumed dead. I was devastated. Doc was crying. Sleepy was sleeping. Andy was silent.
And Dopey was just shrugging.
'Hey Dad,' he said to Andy casually, 'Probably is best if you didn't marry anymore ladies. They all die. And especially don't marry someone with a kid. Then we'd get dumped with another sister or brother. Like stupid Susie.'
And then I totally beat the crap out of him, screaming 'How dare you?!'
But that got me wondering . . . what had happened to Dopey's mum? She obviously didn't leave them. She must have died. But . . . this was just a dream. Maybe she did up and leave. Anyone with a son like Bradley Ackerman would have run away screaming. But with a kid like David, how could she? Poor little guy –
Only this entire dream was interrupted by a distinct change of scene.
It was now black. Tendrils of fog snaked across the ground. The sky was black, and the starts twinkled coldly. And of course, there was no missing the leather-clad hottie standing just across from me.
Evil, twisted, murderous leather-clad hottie, but let's not be picky.
'And you thought I'd left,' Paul smirked at me.
I had. I had thought that he'd stop coming to me when I slept. I mean, now I knew that he actually controlled these little nightmarish trysts, and they weren't figments of my over-active imagination, it was even scarier than it had been. To know that he was purposely torturing me. I had thought that, because he'd come back to Carmel, he'd leave me alone when I was dreaming.
Was I ever wrong.
'Don't, please,' I whimpered pathetically. Again, we were up in the Shadowland, and he was advancing on me. I knew that running would be useless. He'd find me . . .
I stumbled as I was backing away, granting Paul the ascendancy in the situation. He dropped to his knees, so each knee was either side of my hips, and pressed his hands against my shoulders, forcing me to the cold, glassy ground. Fog drifted over my face, white and asphyxiating.
'For God's sake, stop it already!' I yelled at him, trying to push him off of me entirely, but since when have I ever managed to do that? Well, maybe once or twice, but it still never did much good. His face lurked somewhere above me. It was hard to tell exactly – the fog was ubiquitous and ever- moving. But he was there. Barely, I could see him still smirking in dark amusement.
His hands – on my shoulders – then very slowly slid down the length of each of my arms, and to my wrists, where he locked them in his iron grip. But achieving this action caused his whole torso to sink lower – and closer to me. Including his face. I could now see all of his strong features without a problem. But there was a problem! I didn't WANT to see him that close to me! In spite of the coldness of the fog, I felt myself getting unpleasantly warm. I wriggled anxiously, and twisted my wrists, in a feeble attempt to get away from him, but it only made him clench them harder.
'Do you know how long it's been since I've been with a girl?' he asked with a mock pout.
I flushed a dark red.
'B-been with?' I stuttered uncertainly, but he cut me off.
'Yeah . . . been with,' he hinted, his eyes glinting maliciously. I choked on a breath. 'Almost a month now. It's shocking. It really is. It's like, a record for me. But I don't want to have a record, Suze,' his face edged closer to me, 'I like being consistent.'
I swallowed very hard. Oh God, oh God . . .
With a very uh, odd expression on his face, and this little dark, notorious look in his eyes, he gently released my hands. I stared at him. What . . . what was he doing?
It was about then he placed both of his hands on my collar bone, and began running them down, down . . .
Down.
I gasped sharply, but felt incapable of struggling. Oh my GOD. I closed my eyes tightly, feeling my mouth open the slightest in – what? In horror? In pain?
No . . .
In pleasure.
It was a ghastly recognition. That Paul could make me feel like that. I sucked my tongue against the roof of my mouth, and turned me head to the side, straining all the muscles in my neck. Paul's hands teased my navel; his were fingers gentle but determined. Breathing roughly, and flaring my nose, I tried to ignore it. I tried to ignore what he was trying to do. What he was trying to make me feel . . .
But I couldn't.
'You like that,' his voice, dripping with satisfaction, intruded my mind. He, very slowly again, dipped his hand beneath my pajama shirt, and tickled his fingers up my side. I moaned, screwing my face up. Yeah, way attractive, Suze. But I wasn't trying to appear attractive. Hell, I was desperately trying to look unattractive. If it meant that Paul would stop this . . .
But then, did I want him to stop? It felt so . . .
Oh, help me.
I felt his thumb rubbing across my sheer skin, and I stifled a cry. Dark thrills shot up and down every nerve in my body. My eyes were still closed, but I had a very bad feeling that he was smiling. In a quick movement, my own hand darted over his, with only the material of my pajamas separating us. I pushed heavily on his hand, so it would stop moving. Stop searching me.
'Don't,' I said in a voice that was atrociously unlike my own – it was all breathy and thin. My eyes snapped open, and I saw that his face was now so close to mine, you could barely fit a fist between our noses. He gave me a very slow, very sexy, very seductive smile. Again, I swallowed, as the cold fog played coldly across all of my skin that was exposed. 'Paul, stop –'
'No,' his lip curled, and his eyes narrowed in embryonic anger, 'No, I won't stop, Suze. This is what you want. You've been begging for this. A blind man could see it. And most importantly, I can see it. But you can't . . . well, I'm just going to have to make you see, aren't I?' he said in an animalistic growl. Uh . . . not good . . . My heat thudded shatteringly, and proceeded to do so in a more desperate rhythm when I felt his fingers go claw-like beneath mine, as he totally dropped the whole on-the-knees thing and settled for lying on me. I wheezed – the dude was kind of heavy, savvy? – as his other hand shot to the side of my face, pushing it against his now aggressively forceful lips. His other hand, which was under my top kind of, still, slipped under my back, and pushed me into him. I tried and tried turning my head away, but I couldn't. His hand was unconquerable. Iron.
I, myself, remained unresponsive. Trying to push him off of me –
Just a dream. Just a dream. Just a dream. Just a dream. Just a dream. Just a dream. Just a dream. Just a dream, Suze.
JUST A FRICKEN DREAM.
It was hurting! God, it really was. He was wrong, I didn't want this! I didn't want anything to do with him!
As he was touching me now, it didn't feel nice or good or WHATEVER. It felt like he was pouring scalding hot water all over me. His roaming hand clenched my back tightly, as if he wanted to break it. My back, I mean. I was trying not to scream.
And failing.
'PAUL PLEASE!' I begged, thrashing about wildly. But he wasn't being merciful. Just out to satisfy himself. I mean, come on, RUDE.
. . .
I'll fix these broken things
Repair your broken wings
And make sure everything's all right
.
My pressure on your hips
Sinking my fingertips
Into every inch of you
Coz I know it's what you want me to do
. . .
I was screaming. He was kissing me. The thrill was gone. The fear was back. It stung, and it hurt, and it – it killed . . .
'DON'T!'
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Adam's POV.
I was woken up very suddenly by a very loud voice? What the hell as going on?
Rubbing my eyes in groggy alarm, I sat up – why was I sleeping on the floor?
. . . There was someone on MY bed. Yelling blue murder. 'For God's sake, shut up, do you know what time it is –' I cut off as a string of memories flooded back.
Oh yeah.
Suze was staying over,
I forget why.
But why the hell was she yelling like that? Annoyed, I stood up, and walked over to her blearily. And whoa . . .
She was totally thrashing about all over the place. 'Hey hey,' I said in panic, and grabbed her by the shoulders to try and still her. She was screaming. Shit, she'd wake up my mum. And my mum would freak and think I was trying to kill her or something. Go me.
But Suze wouldn't shut up.
'Suze!' I barked, 'Suze, wake up! Oi!'
But then she said that frigging name . . .
'Paul, DON'T!'
What the?!
Furious, I shook her harder. 'Suze, stop dreaming! Wake up! Come on!'
And with a severe gasp, she sat up, eyes as wide as . . . er, something really wide.
Whoa.
She looked around desperately. Horizontal bars were cast across her face from my partially closed blinds. I steadied her. 'Suze, whoa. You were dreaming, cool it.'
She was way clutching her chest. 'Oh God . . . ' she whispered, staring at her lap. Then quickly, she repositioned herself so she was hugging her knees closely into her chest, her head hidden. She was shaking.
Holy crap.
'Suze, come on, it was just a nightmare,' I tried to comfort her and all – I'm not the best at that kind of thing, you know – but she wasn't listening.
'You don't understand,' she protested, 'it wasn't. It was real.'
'It just seems like it was,' I shrugged. 'It's fine –'
'Adam, it's NOT. It's real. What he's doing to me, he's done it before. He does it when I sleep. He comes to me in my dreams, and he – he . . . he hurts me,' she said in a muffled voice, peeking fearfully from above her knees.
Whoa, heavy.
She was staring at her wrists. Huh? I looked closer at them, and saw that she had scars there. Oh yeah, I remembered that.
'He did that, right?' I said darkly.
She twisted her head around and looked at me with wide, scared eyes. Then she nodded, looking away.
Man, I was really going to kill that bastard . . . He was making Suze – Susannah Simon, like, the bravest chick I know – act so frightened. This was not how Suze acted. She was fearless, and cool. Not like this.
I never knew she could be like this.
'He's going to kill me,' she whispered to me, hiding her face behind a sheet of her dark hair.
'Hey, nah,' I frowned, and did what I thought most people are supposed to do, you know? I kind of pulled her towards me, and hugged her. She seemed to calm down a little when I did that, so at least I was doing something right. Yay for me. 'You're not going to be killed or anything. If he wants to hurt you, he has to go through me first,' I growled.
Suze went very tense again. 'No, Adam! God, don't say that, because he will –'
'Shhhh,' I silenced her, stroking her arm a little. Wow. I'm a natural mother. I should really look into the kindergarten line of work. I have promise.
She settled down again. 'Adam, I'm scared . . . '
I smiled a little. 'Don't be.'
'But Paul –'
'Paul Schmaul,' I laughed. 'Hey, that makes sense. Because you know, "Paul" is a Latin name. And you know what it means?'
'What?' she murmured softly.
'Small.'
She snorted.
'I'm serious! So, I bet he has a swell time with the ladies,' I said. 'You know, with the magnifying glass, and the tweezers and the thimbles instead of con-'
Suze just giggled. 'And what does my name mean then?'
I frowned. 'Uh, Susannah? That's Hebrew, I think. It means some flower or something.'
'What one?'
I grinned down at her apprehensive green eyes.
'A lily.'
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Suze's POV
Adam drove me to school and that. I was still shaky about that last dream I'd had about Paul. I mean, was it just me being over-imaginative? Or was he really trying to torment me again? Oh God no. I didn't think that I could handle that again. I had been near breaking point last time he'd been at that gig. I wasn't sure if I could survive another round of seeing him when I slept as well as when I was awake.
If they were dreams, why could I feel the pain that strong?
I still wasn't sure about Jesse. I mean, was he still mad at me for acting like a bitch to the bitch? I mean, Querida? Or was he just wondering if his beautiful Susannah was safe from the likes of Paul Slater? Probably not . . .
I dunno. Maybe I underestimated how Jesse felt about me. You know, like, took if for granted? Or maybe he took ME for granted! Yeah, like how guilty would he feel if one day I just WASN'T THERE? HUH? TELL ME THAT JESSE.
. . . I need therapy.
No sooner than Miss Phillips saying that class was over, the crackly PA sounded out. 'Could Susannah Simon please come to the front office please? Susannah Simon?'
I turned a customary shade of burgundy, and groaned, grabbing my school books and stuff and hightailing it to the holy man's office.
Hehehe . . . holy man.
Oh, shut up.
Planting myself in a seat in front of his desk, I said, in a very bad imitation of Lurch from the Addam's Family, 'You rang?'
Hell, I dunno if he even says that. But I said it anyway. So sue me.
Looking up from paper work, Father Dominic fiddled with his glasses anxiously. 'Susannah, how are you?'
'Recovering from a near death experience, actually, and yourself?' I gave him a dazzling smile.
He wasn't amused.
'Susannah, please, this isn't the time to joke. There was a murder last night.'
'Whoa, tact much?' I groaned. 'Way to bum me out even more –'
'Hush.' He handed me the Carmel Pine Cone – you know, the paper. I read it pretty nonchalantly. 'Yeah, and that has to do with us, what?'
'Well, there may be a ghost –'
'No ghost,' I informed him.
He stared at me. 'How do you know –'
'"The victim, a teenage girl between sixteen to eighteen, was found in the alley between Hudson and Marsh's Secondhand Bookstore, and the Zodiac Print shop on Jettison Street. The victim had suffered severe bruising and wounding to the neck area." I happen to know that she is not a ghost, Padre. She is either very dead, or a vampire.'
He frowned at me, and stood up in annoyance. 'Susannah, simply because it states that there was trauma to her neck, it doesn't mean that –'
'I happened to be wandering around Jettison St. last night,' I said indignantly, sitting back in the chair and crossing my legs. He gave me an inquisitive look. 'Don't ask,' I rolled my eyes. 'But there was a brief encounter with one of our fanged friends.'
'The Beaumont boy?' Father Dom asked, sitting back down.
'Nup. Someone he bit, thought,' I said. 'Or . . . no. It couldn't have been him. He got turned into a vampire AFTER I went over to his house that time and got him all suspicious about his dad, which totally leads to the fact that I'm purely responsible for his current blood-craving, sun-shy condition . . . but no need to point out the obvious,' I babbled on, feeling rueful.
Father Dom was kind of staring at me. 'I . . . I see,' he said slowly. Only I doubt he did. See, I mean.
That was when I saw a shower of blue from the corner. I know, it could have been ANYONE, but I still freaked, and totally fell out of the chair.
But God, it was only little Timmy.
'Suze!' he squealed, running up to me and giving me a big hug. 'You're not dead!'
Uh . . . yay?
'Nope,' I grinned doubtfully, arching my eyebrows at Father Dom, who was smiling fondly at Timmy.
Tim beamed complacently into my shoulder. 'I missed you,' he shrugged. 'And I was worried that that Paul man beat you up again.'
'Well, he tried, but –' I stopped, and Father Dom looked at me sharply.
'Susannah? You've seen him since that incident yesterday?' he demanded.
'Um . . . well, technically no,' I shifted awkwardly. No, not SHIFTED actually. Just the normal shifting, the human kind, thanks.
'Susannah . . .'
'I had another dream about him, okay?' I snapped very quickly. 'But I'm fine. I wasn't, but I am now. It was freaky, but then Adam told me that my name meant Lily in Hebrew and that Paul mean Small and I calmed down and –'
'Who's Adam?' chirped Timmy, swinging his arms around playfully. I paled again. 'Um . . . nothing,' I said, looking cautiously at Father Dom, who wasn't too impressed.
'Susannah, what happened in this dream?' he was scowling disapprovingly at me. And this is the guy you go to for reconciliation. Yay. 'Nothing important,' I said, blushing deeply. My face felt very, very hot.
'Well, it could be. What –'
'NOTHING, okay?!' I yelled at him, throwing myself back into the chair and crossing my arms, 'Why do you all jump to conclusions that something is happening between me and –'
'Susannah,' Father Dom said in bafflement, 'For goodness sake, calm down. I was merely enquiring about dream. It could have some symbolic significance –'
'Well, it doesn't,' I sulked, glowering at nothing in particular. I know, SO mature. But hey, why did Father Dom think that something was going on between us? Me and Paul, I mean, not me and Father Dom. Ew . . . I mean, that CPR was completely last resort, guys. No ideas, please? But it wasn't just him. Everyone lately seemed to think that something was happening.
(A/N: Or maybe someone just has a guilty conscience, Suze. Hmm . . . think about that?)
Well, there was nothing. So screw everyone who thought there was.
Grrr . . .
'Be that as it may, Susannah, I still suggest that this murder of this girl merits further investigation. Tonight, we can –'
I panicked. 'Tonight?'
'Yes, I can –'
'Busy,' I said quickly.
He looked at me suspiciously. 'I've . . .um, I have heaps of homework. Big project about . . . '
Parties with my friends?
'. . . World War, um, four. I mean, one. Yeah. You know, with the guns, and the navy people?'
Tim sniggered. 'It's fun blowing people up.'
We stared at him.
'On the X Box,' he said quickly.
My my, computer influences these days . . .
My priest friend didn't look very happy. Or convinced. But still, the slight chance that I might have been taking my schoolwork seriously, well, he wasn't going to question that and drag me out of this possible delusion.
'Well, if that is so, I suppose this can wait.'
You bet it can, dude.
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Feeling a little sleepy, I had a hot shower. The hot water trailed down my body soothingly, cleansing my suspected oily skin. I rubbed a splodge of Herbal Essence into my stressed out hair, feeling it go all silky beneath my fingers. I mean, in the water, it went dead straight. Out – well . . . it was very curly. Aaah, lovely shower . . . It would wake me up for the party.
I mean, come on, I needed this. Don't look at me like that. So I lied to a priest. What? It wasn't as if writing about people dying was different to a party.
. . . Well, um, okay, it WAS. But so what? I needed a break! After everything that was happening, I needed a time out.
Badly.
I mean, seriously. If I didn't go to this shindig, I was going to get WRINKLES. And GREYS.
Then how bad would everyone feel?
Yeah. Thought so.
Selecting oh so carefully, I pulled out this neat little white denim skirt that I totally got for half the retail price. It was Jordache; very cute. Well . . . okay, it was kind of short. Okay, as in half of my thigh short . . . but it wasn't as if it was MICRO-MINI or something. And seriously, my legs are nice. Jesse said it to his little sister, so therefore, it must be true!
. . . You don't have to say it.
I know I suck.
Oh dear, dear, dear.
Anyhoo. I then, after much deliberation, decided upon a little slinky, glittery, black spaghetti strapped tank top that had this little black beaded butterfly on the left side. The edge of the top had this totally cute beaded stringy edging, that kind of swayed as you moved around, chinking ever so slightly. And the front of it dipped into a decent V, nothing to skanky, but enough to, you know, look all sexy and stuff.
I let my hair dry naturally, and rubbed in some leave-in conditioner which was meant to enhance curls. Whether it did, I didn't know. But Gina said it worked. And I trust Gina. So in conditioner I trust too.
And after I was finished applying some make up – you know, a little mascara here, a little liner there, a bit o' foundation, bit o' rouge, lippy, gloss – um, sorry, rambling . . . um yeah, I slid into some black mini-stiletto Jimmy Choos. I'd broken them, first. Ha, wouldn't it be funny if I like, had to run a million miles from Paul in shoes I HADN'T broken? Ha, how ironic would that be?
(A/N: Yeah . . . ironic . . .)
A very nice pair of golden earrings dangled from my earlobes – you know, junk jewelry. Nothing special. Nay the gold bracelets on my wrist.
But as far as necklaces went, I hadn't changed from the golden Shaman pendant I'd received from Jesse. It . . . I dunno, it really, really meant something to me. I didn't want to take it off . . .
Over-romantic of me, I know. Considering how I wasn't even sure if the supplier even still liked me, after the way I acted, and the way his new friend had accted around him. You know? With the "I'm so cold. Warm me up" thing.
Frowning acrimoniously by then, I spritzed on some Ralph Lauren perfume that I'd embezzled from my mother, but stopped while I was doing so.
Lilies.
It was scented with lilies.
I smiled a soft little smile, and then put it back in my cupboard, looking up in the mirror of my bathroom. Neat. I looked pretty hot, if I do say so myself. Sophisticated.
Normal.
Serious. Never, in a million, billion, even trillion years, would you suspect that under that all Maybelline lurked one very complicated girl, who had enough love life dilemmas to last a million, billion, even trillion years.
I blinked at my reflection. Yay. Gina had been right. The conditioner had come through for me, to my advantage. The now dry curls were all very individual and very pretty, giving my face a very soft, feminine look.
And I smelled of fragrant lilies.
Things were looking up.
Grabbing my black Kate Spade, I ran out of my room and down the stairs, standing in front of the door, and waiting for Adam when –
'Where, exactly, do you think you are going, young lady?'
I winced. Oooh. That didn't sound good at all.
Tentatively, I spun around. Mum stood there, hands on hips, looking exceptionally pissed. As in, narrowed eyes, pursed lips, flared nostrils, expectantly raised eyebrows, the works.
'Um . . . church?'
Lame. I know. LAME!
She looked at my outfit. 'As if you'd be going to church wearing that, and on a school night. A Tuesday night, at that.'
'Okay,' I admitted, shrugging, 'A party. No biggie.'
'Suze,' Mum said angrily, marching up to me, 'Don't you think for one minute that I would let you go. You are grounded.'
WHAT?! NOOOOOO!!!
'Why?' I demanded. 'What have I done –'
'I called CeeCee, Father Dominic, everyone last night!' she exploded at me. 'You said that you were staying at CeeCee's and you weren't! Suze, how can I trust you? If Jake is right when he tells me that you are in a gang of some sort, well, I don't know what to do with you. I really don't. But I am ashamed if –'
'Mum!' I cried in outrage. And hurt, yeah. 'As IF! Come on, yeah, me totally going to a GANG bang in this outfit. Going to trash the school, knock over a couple more Junipero Serra statues, because ONE just wasn't enough for me and my big scary gangster mates –'
'Susannah, that's ENOUGH!' she shouted at me, stamping her foot. I kind of received that with a blow. I mean, not only does mum never get this mad, but well . . . that was what Jesse said to me yesterday. The "Susannah" bit and everything.
I blinked at her. 'I was kidding.'
'Well, I'm not,' she snapped. 'Now go up to your room and take that silly make up off. You are too old to be this irresponsible –'
'But I didn't do anything!' I protested.
'Do you have any idea how worried I was last night when I couldn't find you? I rang up to tell Mrs Webb that you forgot your sleeping bag, and she had no idea what I was talking about! And we both were in a state, worried that you were lying in some dark alley where that poor girl, Melanie Spriggs was found this morning . . . you have no idea how scary it is, to know that one day I might have to wake up, go to WCAL, and do a missing persons report on you, sweetie,' Mum said, giving me a very emotional look. 'I worry so much about you. You've been so good since Brooklyn, and last night, you had to go spoil all of that.' She sniffed, and instantly, I felt very, very bad.
'Mum . . .' I said slowly, 'I didn't . . . I wasn't . . . I'm really, really sorry –'
She sighed, still staring at me, all motherly and disappointed.
I inwardly cringed. I hate it when mum is mad. Or upset with me. It just reminds me so much of when I was the Teen Terror back in New York, always getting hauled in by the police, and mum crying at night, asking God and crap why they took her husband away from her, and why I couldn't be a normal teenage girl. Here, mum had been happy, with Andy and stuff. And I had been a good little daughter. Not wearing so much black, anyway. But yeah.
'Mum,' I said feeling very low by then, 'I'm sorry. CeeCee, well, she and I had a spat, and I got annoyed and slept at Adam's instead. Remember? That guy that Dope – I mean, Brad called a fag?' I added, in case she needed a little false persuasion about Adam'' sexuality. He'' kill me, but he wasn't even here yet. So blah.
Mum's lips twitched, and she sighed again. Enough with the sighs already! 'Okay, Suze,' she reasoned. 'Go to this party. But be sure to be back by . . . I don't know, one good for you?'
I was surprised. 'Um, sure.' I was expecting something stupid like ten or something.
She smiled a little. 'Don't drink, honey. And if any nice guys, you know, ask you to –'
'Mum!' I snapped, 'ew!'
She grinned knowingly, 'All I'm saying is, invite them over to dinner first, so I can make sure that they are good enough for you. And to see if they have a last name that's not too embarrassing.'
Okay, for a start, I was still involved with someone! Susannah de Silva sounded PERFECT. So ner to mum. But I didn't want to say that just in case I was wrong, and Jesse really did . . . really was . . . um . . .yeah, that.
'Suze? Is this a good time to give you a hug? Or would that be too embarrassing for you or something? I don't really know about girls at your age, with the mother-affection thing. I'm not sure –'
'Nah, hugging is cool,' I smiled. 'Especially with a mum as great as you. Thanks for worrying mum, but really. I can handle myself.'
And voila with the hugs. Aww . . . come on, mock me if you will.
But I bet your mum isn't as great as mine.
So there.
Adam's horn suddenly tooted into our little mother/daughter moment.
'Oh, um, I'll see you at one,' she shrugged.
'Yeah.'
'Susie . . . take care.'
What MAGNIFICENT advice.
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I was feeling kind of sleepy. So, in the back seat of Adam's car, I had a little lie down. Which CeeCee was perfectly happy with. Meaning, she got to sit up front with Adam. I'm sure he was happy with that too, deep under all of those layers.
You know, those knowing-Hebrew-name-meanings/actually-possessing-a-mature- side layers.
But damn those two crazy kids, they were still avoiding conversation, simply looking at each other. Hell, CeeCee twitched when Adam bumped her hand to reach for the gear stick. And so did Adam.
Man, this was going to be a fun party.
Fun for all the family.
Yeah. For sure.
CeeCee was dressed in this very sleek looking outfit, with black capris, and her trade-mark polo neck. It was a cobalt blue colour, though, and looked stunning against her white-blond hair, which was in a very chic half twist. And I'd forced her to wear this totally cute belt, too, which set the whole look off. You know, the classy-yet-cool look.
Adam wasn't doing so bad himself. He was clad in a cherry red Tommy Hilfiger shirt, and khaki cargos. Hehehe. While it wasn't the height of heterosexuality, there was no comment.
Oh well, it was better than Tad, in his silk tee, with his Porsche . . . I mean, talk about gigolo wannabe.
But yeah, you could say I was preoccupied.
So that was why I didn't protest about the destination of said party until we actually got there.
And I kind of freaked.
'Whoa, is this the place?' CeeCee asked with a slow grin. 'It's a little big.'
'The bigger the better,' Adam said sloppily, 'To mock Suze's little blond episode earlier of course,' he added when CeeCee shot him a "are you sure you're not a homosexual?" look.
Waking up from my half-asleep state, I sat upwards.
'Oh, crap,' I muttered.
'Yeah, it's a little overwhelming, aye,' Adam agreed.
'No . . . CeeCee,' I hissed, 'This is Tad's house.'
CeeCee twisted around to look at me sharply. 'You're joking. The vamp-'
'Vandal!' I cut her off quickly with an energetic click of my fingers, giving her a glare. 'Yeah. You know rich kids these days, so suppressed and all, going out of their way to be rebellious –'
'Were you going to say vampire?' Adam asked with irritation, 'because you have told me, remember?'
I blanched a little. 'Uh, yeah. That's right. I knew that.'
We all exited the car, my anxiety increasing by the second.
'Oh look, there's Jesse for you!' CeeCee squealed, 'And he's brought . . . um . . . oh, whoa. A sister?'
'Whoa,' agreed Adam.
I turned around, and saw a TOTALLY HOT Jesse, dressed in black jeans and a black shirt with a black denim jacket tugged casually over the top – I couldn't see any brand names or anything from here - helping a very dainty looking Querida Andres out of his not-so-dainty looking Cadilac.
I glared acidly, and spun away.
'Yeah,' I said. 'So let's go party then –'
'That's her?' asked Adam, his mouth open slightly. 'That's the Spanish chick? Well, I can see why you'd be upset –'
'Adam!' CeeCee elbowed him.
Adam snapped out of it, and saw that I was looking a little hurt. 'I mean . . . that was my sarcastic voice.'
'Oddly enough, it sounded like your "wow there's one hot babe" voice,' I responded succinctly.
CeeCee looked pained. 'I'm sure that she's just a . . . a friend?' she suggested. 'You know –'
'Not likely,' I said. 'He spent all of his holiday in Spain with her.'
The loud music coming from the house was now starting to really annoy me. I looked up the long driveway, to where the huge Beaumont mansion was. Seriously, why would a rich guy like Thaddeus Beaumont, vampire loser extraordinare, host a party like this? Just for his son, Tad, who he'd most recently turned into a blood sucking fiend too? Because if that was so, well, this party sure was going to be hoppin'.
In a deadly kind of way.
I started to really freak out by then, forgetting Jesse and Querida. I mean, what if that was all this party was? A trap to get a bunch of seemingly oblivious kids together, just so they could have a fang-fest? Oh my God . . . I couldn't even take Tara the Newbie. How could I take a – possibly – house full of vampires?
And without stakes?
Oh, GOD, even No. 2 Pencils?!
'Simon, what's your glitch?' asked CeeCee curiously. 'You look . . . weird.'
'Neurotic. Ashen. Eccentric. Like you're going to barf, like,' Adam added most necessarily.
And I kind of did feel like that.
Because I suddenly had a terrible feeling that tonight wasn't going to be a night where I could just relax. Oh, no.
Well, it was going to be a fight to the death then.
Vamps vs. Susannah the Lily.
Oh, so one-sided.
Unless Jesse God-is-gracious De Silva lent a hand.
. . . So I'd asked Adam what "Jesse" mean. Sue me, why don't you?
As the security guard, who looked alarmingly pale, let us through the tall gates, I kind of gulped. I didn't share my extreme qualms with CeeCee and Adam. They were here purely to have a good time. And hell, if that was what they wanted, that was what they were going to get. A stupid crucifix repelled creep could spoil my night of fun, but not my friends'. Nope, not a chance.
Yeah, a girl can dream?
The grass was very green. I noticed that. The moon was very big and round and bright. I noticed that too. The stars were twinkling frigidly. Also taken into account. The music was loud and funky, and there were dancing bodies all over the place, inside the house – I could see though the revealing windows – and out. I could see a bunch of jocks gathered around a kegger, laughing and eyeing a group of girls who were giggling furiously nearby.
And joy of joys, there was Kelly nacho-platter-for-brains Prescott. Wearing a tailored hot pink dress, no less. It wasn't too easy on the eyes, let me tell you.
'Hey, Suze,' she acknowledged. 'McTavish. Webb.'
'Hi, Kelly,' Adam said in exaggerated excitement. 'Hey, where'd you get that dress? I want one just like it for my scarecrow! Really scare the crows – and the humans.'
Kelly tossed her hair. 'Yeah, whatever McTavish. Just because you look like shit.'
CeeCee glared. 'Hey, Kell. Speaking of scarecrows, sung "If I only had a brain" recently?'
Kelly looked highly insulted, her mouth opened in shock.
'Please, don't make her sing again!' Adam begged, holding his ears and screwing up his nose. 'Memories of fourth grade choir, NO!'
'Hey, thanks for letting me borrow those clothes,' I said lightly, seeing the impending bitch slap that Adam was earning himself.
'Whatever, Simon,' she snapped. 'God, when are you going to ditch the dork and the albino? They totally weigh you down.'
I shrugged. 'Nah, I'm fine with my friends, thanks. They actually like me?'
'What the hell is that supposed to –' she began, but then Debbie and - gag – Dopey came stumbling over.
Apparently, very drunk.
'Hi, Suze – hic! – and you all,' Debbie slurred at me, leaning heavily into Dopey. 'We were just going to get a room because we're soooo wasted –'
'I think we've seen enough stereotypical youth stupidity,' CeeCee rolled her eyes, pulling Adam and me away from Kelly, Debbie and Dopey.
All dopes in their own rights, of course.
CeeCee lead us through the doors of the fabulous mansion. Everyone there was having a seemingly great time. A DJ was in the corner, bopping to the steady beat of the music. Another bunch of jocks were ditching ice at each other, and some guy roared, 'Duuuude! Cool party! Way to go Beaumont!'
I froze, and looked around frantically.
And there, in a darker corner, Tad leant casually against a pillar, eyeing me with a very dubious smile. It was very "I know what you did last summer" and all.
Sheesh . . .
'Suze? Suze are you coming?' CeeCee asked me, giving me a tug.
Dazed, and blinked and stared at her. 'Huh?'
She rolled her eyes. 'Are you – hey, what were you staring at?'
I looked back quickly, but Tad was gone.
Oh God . . .
Well, the party wasn't as great as I thought it would be. Especially, when the DJ chucked on a slow dancing song.
To my partial ecstasy, Adam asked CeeCee if she would be kind enough to not make him look like a loner. She was kind enough.
Well, it was a start.
But me? Well, I looked around for Jesse, and all . . .
But noooo. He's too busy, slow-dancing with his hot date. Queer-ida Andres.
I guess that kind of stung, and all. Just, like, seeing her with her arms around his neck like that. I mean, sure, Jesse wasn't even looking her, but still. He totally knew I was at the party. So WHY was he doing that? To purposely hurt me? to get back at me for being such a bitch the previous night? What?
I guess I was staring at them pretty intensely, because next thing, I felt a poke in my shoulder, and I actually jumped.
'Sorry, uh, wanna dance with me?' this guy asked. He was tall and blond, and looked pretty, well . . . thick. SO not my type of guy. Ever? I'm not so into blonds. But with a second glance at Jesse and Querida on the dance floor, only a few partners away from the intense looking Adam and CeeCee, I muttered, 'Sure. I'd love to.'
He grinned, turned around, gave a bunch of jocks an animated thumbs up, very Wiggles and all, and escorted me onto the dance floor. Or, the area where everyone was dancing, and stuff.
You're kidding me.
I wanted revenge, but did my revenge have to be so dim-witted?
Well, I asked for it, I guess.
He – Will, as he introduced himself as – placed his hands on my hips, and I set my own around his neck, and rested my head on his – let's face it – pathetic excuse for a chest. I mean, once you've see Jesse, there was no such thing as a better chest.
Or even P-
SHUT UP SUZE.
I gulped, as Will and I rotated in slow, graceful steps. Well, again, he wasn't exactly the best dancer either. He stepped on my feet so many times, I lost count.
That was when Jesse looked away from Querida, and locked his eyes with me.
I stared at him in alarm, and kind of froze.
'Uh, Susan? You still alive?' Will hooted, 'Ha, alive, funny, ha . . . '
Shaking my head fast and looking away from Jesse indignantly, I said, 'Uh, yeah. Sorry, I was just, um –'
But he wasn't exactly interested in my "um" apology.
In fact, he wasn't interested in much apart from mouthing energetically to all his friends, who were cheering him on and were making some very tasteless movements that appeared to involve me. Oh for God's sake, I was pissed at Jesse, but STILL.
I jerked away from Will. 'Sorry, I gotta go,' I snapped at him, and went back to sitting in a vacant chair. I seized a cup of something, and downed it.
Oops. That must have been alcoholic.
Or at least, spiked.
Ah. Not good. I frowned, and leaned back in the chair, fanning myself. Oh, God. The song changed again. Another slow-dancing song began serenading. Great. Just freaking FAB.
Oooh, head. Yuck.
I closed my eyes. Was it just me? Or did this party SUCK?
'Susannah, are you all right?'
My eyes snapped open. Above me, Jesse stood, all tall, dark and handsome. He was looking way sexy-romantic and all in his black outfit. The way that his hair fell across his forehead and behind his ears was just so perfect and so totally hot that I could feel myself melting –
NO.
I glared, crossed my arms and looked away brusquely.
'Dandy. Now shoo.'
He sat down beside me stubbornly. 'Susannah, please. That little stunt wasn't very effective. I have to ask this; why are you jealous of Querida?'
I looked at him sharply. And threw out a little laugh, too. You know, for authenticity as stuff. 'Me? Jealous of HER? As if. Don't flatter yourself, De Silva. I wouldn't be jealous of –'
'Someone who asked me to slow-dance,' he interrupted hintingly.
I stared at him. What was he trying to say? That he didn't want to dance with her? Impossible? What straight guy wouldn't want to dance with her?
I voiced this out loud. But dammit, it only served to make him smile.
But his response kind of made me smile, you know?
'Someone who is in love with Susannah Simon,' he said, bowing his head gallantly.
I blushed furiously, and my eyes flickered back to his. My heart began to race a little. Could he . . . could he still like me?
Oh for God's sake, Suze! Of course the dude likes you! He just said that he LOVED you, God dammit!
Oh yeah.
I gave him a very warm smile. But then I dropped it.
'Jesse . . . God, I feel shitty now. I'm really sorry about yesterday. I suck, I know it. I was just all happy that you and I were going to have some alone time and then Querida showed up with her Spanish accent and her "I'm cold" routine and I got all mad because you gave her your jacket and that meant that if I said that I was cold there would be no jacket for me and then I just got really pissed because she kept looking at you like she owned you and she kept looking at me like I was this stupid bug that had crawled onto her un-English speaking shoe-'
Yeah, as if shoes could talk, any language.
But all of that didn't matter, because about then, Jesse placed a single finger on my lips, grinning secretively. I frowned at him. 'What?' I demanded.
He chuckled a little, sending my heart into a little pleasant tizzy. 'You are just so adorable.'
I blushed even harder.
Really? Aww . . .
And with that, Jesse extended his hand to me. 'Would you like to –'
'Yeah,' I cut in.
Whoa, a little keen there Suze?
'I mean, yes,' I said. What I was saying yes to, I didn't know. 'Um, what is it that I would like to do again?'
Again, he smiled amiably. 'Well, I was going to say, would you like to pick up from yesterday before we were interrupted from my friend,' he stressed the word, 'but if you would prefer to dance –'
'Picking up is fine!' I half-squeaked.
Oh got, could I get any more pathetic?
'I mean . . . um, picking up from where we left of, not actual, ACTUAL picking up of –'
But he totally grinned, and pulled me into the nearest vacant room which was, fair enough, what looked like a library.
But I was so not complaining.
So there we were, kissing ever so passionately, nearly knocking over the bookshelves all together. I gasped for breath, as my heart was beating so fast, I felt like it was going to explode in happiness. Jesse loved me! YAY!
'Susannah,' Jesse panted. 'You . . . you smell like lilies.'
'You noticed.'
'Yes, it's a beautiful scent. You are even more beautiful,' he added, capturing my lips in another spine-tingling kiss.
Aww, squidgy! In a kind of cheesy way, but still, the kiss totally made up for all cheesiness.
(A.N: Mmm . . . cheese . . .)
That was about when a voice interrupted.
'Hey Suze. Nice to see you again . . . '
I broke away from Jesse with a jolt.
Tad stood against the doorframe, his head down, looking at me in amusement from a dark angle. Jesse stiffened in my embrace.
I felt my blood – my own and the transfused – run horribly cold . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Oooh . . . again, sorry for the length. It's now real late. Please review? Show me that my late-nights aren't completely worthless for you wonderful people?
Oh, I'm yawning. Well, tell me what you thought! With the Jesse stuff, and the dream, and how stupid that Will dude was, and the CeeCee/Adam advancement, and . . . yeah. Say what you think is gonna happen too. It's kind of obvious. But yeah.
Regards, Very tired MystAngel.
Lyrics don't belong to me, yada, thanks Hayley for the designer thingies, I know I used them all wrong, but I'm your stereotypical Aussie. Sorry about that. Oh, there goes a kangaroo!
. . . I'm kidding.
Okay, here we go. Please, bear with me?
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I was having the weirdest dream.
It was way freaky. And scary, in a way. I was in the kitchen. I'd just gotten news that my mum had been in a terrible freak accident. Her WCAL work bus had gone over a cliff. She was presumed dead. I was devastated. Doc was crying. Sleepy was sleeping. Andy was silent.
And Dopey was just shrugging.
'Hey Dad,' he said to Andy casually, 'Probably is best if you didn't marry anymore ladies. They all die. And especially don't marry someone with a kid. Then we'd get dumped with another sister or brother. Like stupid Susie.'
And then I totally beat the crap out of him, screaming 'How dare you?!'
But that got me wondering . . . what had happened to Dopey's mum? She obviously didn't leave them. She must have died. But . . . this was just a dream. Maybe she did up and leave. Anyone with a son like Bradley Ackerman would have run away screaming. But with a kid like David, how could she? Poor little guy –
Only this entire dream was interrupted by a distinct change of scene.
It was now black. Tendrils of fog snaked across the ground. The sky was black, and the starts twinkled coldly. And of course, there was no missing the leather-clad hottie standing just across from me.
Evil, twisted, murderous leather-clad hottie, but let's not be picky.
'And you thought I'd left,' Paul smirked at me.
I had. I had thought that he'd stop coming to me when I slept. I mean, now I knew that he actually controlled these little nightmarish trysts, and they weren't figments of my over-active imagination, it was even scarier than it had been. To know that he was purposely torturing me. I had thought that, because he'd come back to Carmel, he'd leave me alone when I was dreaming.
Was I ever wrong.
'Don't, please,' I whimpered pathetically. Again, we were up in the Shadowland, and he was advancing on me. I knew that running would be useless. He'd find me . . .
I stumbled as I was backing away, granting Paul the ascendancy in the situation. He dropped to his knees, so each knee was either side of my hips, and pressed his hands against my shoulders, forcing me to the cold, glassy ground. Fog drifted over my face, white and asphyxiating.
'For God's sake, stop it already!' I yelled at him, trying to push him off of me entirely, but since when have I ever managed to do that? Well, maybe once or twice, but it still never did much good. His face lurked somewhere above me. It was hard to tell exactly – the fog was ubiquitous and ever- moving. But he was there. Barely, I could see him still smirking in dark amusement.
His hands – on my shoulders – then very slowly slid down the length of each of my arms, and to my wrists, where he locked them in his iron grip. But achieving this action caused his whole torso to sink lower – and closer to me. Including his face. I could now see all of his strong features without a problem. But there was a problem! I didn't WANT to see him that close to me! In spite of the coldness of the fog, I felt myself getting unpleasantly warm. I wriggled anxiously, and twisted my wrists, in a feeble attempt to get away from him, but it only made him clench them harder.
'Do you know how long it's been since I've been with a girl?' he asked with a mock pout.
I flushed a dark red.
'B-been with?' I stuttered uncertainly, but he cut me off.
'Yeah . . . been with,' he hinted, his eyes glinting maliciously. I choked on a breath. 'Almost a month now. It's shocking. It really is. It's like, a record for me. But I don't want to have a record, Suze,' his face edged closer to me, 'I like being consistent.'
I swallowed very hard. Oh God, oh God . . .
With a very uh, odd expression on his face, and this little dark, notorious look in his eyes, he gently released my hands. I stared at him. What . . . what was he doing?
It was about then he placed both of his hands on my collar bone, and began running them down, down . . .
Down.
I gasped sharply, but felt incapable of struggling. Oh my GOD. I closed my eyes tightly, feeling my mouth open the slightest in – what? In horror? In pain?
No . . .
In pleasure.
It was a ghastly recognition. That Paul could make me feel like that. I sucked my tongue against the roof of my mouth, and turned me head to the side, straining all the muscles in my neck. Paul's hands teased my navel; his were fingers gentle but determined. Breathing roughly, and flaring my nose, I tried to ignore it. I tried to ignore what he was trying to do. What he was trying to make me feel . . .
But I couldn't.
'You like that,' his voice, dripping with satisfaction, intruded my mind. He, very slowly again, dipped his hand beneath my pajama shirt, and tickled his fingers up my side. I moaned, screwing my face up. Yeah, way attractive, Suze. But I wasn't trying to appear attractive. Hell, I was desperately trying to look unattractive. If it meant that Paul would stop this . . .
But then, did I want him to stop? It felt so . . .
Oh, help me.
I felt his thumb rubbing across my sheer skin, and I stifled a cry. Dark thrills shot up and down every nerve in my body. My eyes were still closed, but I had a very bad feeling that he was smiling. In a quick movement, my own hand darted over his, with only the material of my pajamas separating us. I pushed heavily on his hand, so it would stop moving. Stop searching me.
'Don't,' I said in a voice that was atrociously unlike my own – it was all breathy and thin. My eyes snapped open, and I saw that his face was now so close to mine, you could barely fit a fist between our noses. He gave me a very slow, very sexy, very seductive smile. Again, I swallowed, as the cold fog played coldly across all of my skin that was exposed. 'Paul, stop –'
'No,' his lip curled, and his eyes narrowed in embryonic anger, 'No, I won't stop, Suze. This is what you want. You've been begging for this. A blind man could see it. And most importantly, I can see it. But you can't . . . well, I'm just going to have to make you see, aren't I?' he said in an animalistic growl. Uh . . . not good . . . My heat thudded shatteringly, and proceeded to do so in a more desperate rhythm when I felt his fingers go claw-like beneath mine, as he totally dropped the whole on-the-knees thing and settled for lying on me. I wheezed – the dude was kind of heavy, savvy? – as his other hand shot to the side of my face, pushing it against his now aggressively forceful lips. His other hand, which was under my top kind of, still, slipped under my back, and pushed me into him. I tried and tried turning my head away, but I couldn't. His hand was unconquerable. Iron.
I, myself, remained unresponsive. Trying to push him off of me –
Just a dream. Just a dream. Just a dream. Just a dream. Just a dream. Just a dream. Just a dream. Just a dream, Suze.
JUST A FRICKEN DREAM.
It was hurting! God, it really was. He was wrong, I didn't want this! I didn't want anything to do with him!
As he was touching me now, it didn't feel nice or good or WHATEVER. It felt like he was pouring scalding hot water all over me. His roaming hand clenched my back tightly, as if he wanted to break it. My back, I mean. I was trying not to scream.
And failing.
'PAUL PLEASE!' I begged, thrashing about wildly. But he wasn't being merciful. Just out to satisfy himself. I mean, come on, RUDE.
. . .
I'll fix these broken things
Repair your broken wings
And make sure everything's all right
.
My pressure on your hips
Sinking my fingertips
Into every inch of you
Coz I know it's what you want me to do
. . .
I was screaming. He was kissing me. The thrill was gone. The fear was back. It stung, and it hurt, and it – it killed . . .
'DON'T!'
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Adam's POV.
I was woken up very suddenly by a very loud voice? What the hell as going on?
Rubbing my eyes in groggy alarm, I sat up – why was I sleeping on the floor?
. . . There was someone on MY bed. Yelling blue murder. 'For God's sake, shut up, do you know what time it is –' I cut off as a string of memories flooded back.
Oh yeah.
Suze was staying over,
I forget why.
But why the hell was she yelling like that? Annoyed, I stood up, and walked over to her blearily. And whoa . . .
She was totally thrashing about all over the place. 'Hey hey,' I said in panic, and grabbed her by the shoulders to try and still her. She was screaming. Shit, she'd wake up my mum. And my mum would freak and think I was trying to kill her or something. Go me.
But Suze wouldn't shut up.
'Suze!' I barked, 'Suze, wake up! Oi!'
But then she said that frigging name . . .
'Paul, DON'T!'
What the?!
Furious, I shook her harder. 'Suze, stop dreaming! Wake up! Come on!'
And with a severe gasp, she sat up, eyes as wide as . . . er, something really wide.
Whoa.
She looked around desperately. Horizontal bars were cast across her face from my partially closed blinds. I steadied her. 'Suze, whoa. You were dreaming, cool it.'
She was way clutching her chest. 'Oh God . . . ' she whispered, staring at her lap. Then quickly, she repositioned herself so she was hugging her knees closely into her chest, her head hidden. She was shaking.
Holy crap.
'Suze, come on, it was just a nightmare,' I tried to comfort her and all – I'm not the best at that kind of thing, you know – but she wasn't listening.
'You don't understand,' she protested, 'it wasn't. It was real.'
'It just seems like it was,' I shrugged. 'It's fine –'
'Adam, it's NOT. It's real. What he's doing to me, he's done it before. He does it when I sleep. He comes to me in my dreams, and he – he . . . he hurts me,' she said in a muffled voice, peeking fearfully from above her knees.
Whoa, heavy.
She was staring at her wrists. Huh? I looked closer at them, and saw that she had scars there. Oh yeah, I remembered that.
'He did that, right?' I said darkly.
She twisted her head around and looked at me with wide, scared eyes. Then she nodded, looking away.
Man, I was really going to kill that bastard . . . He was making Suze – Susannah Simon, like, the bravest chick I know – act so frightened. This was not how Suze acted. She was fearless, and cool. Not like this.
I never knew she could be like this.
'He's going to kill me,' she whispered to me, hiding her face behind a sheet of her dark hair.
'Hey, nah,' I frowned, and did what I thought most people are supposed to do, you know? I kind of pulled her towards me, and hugged her. She seemed to calm down a little when I did that, so at least I was doing something right. Yay for me. 'You're not going to be killed or anything. If he wants to hurt you, he has to go through me first,' I growled.
Suze went very tense again. 'No, Adam! God, don't say that, because he will –'
'Shhhh,' I silenced her, stroking her arm a little. Wow. I'm a natural mother. I should really look into the kindergarten line of work. I have promise.
She settled down again. 'Adam, I'm scared . . . '
I smiled a little. 'Don't be.'
'But Paul –'
'Paul Schmaul,' I laughed. 'Hey, that makes sense. Because you know, "Paul" is a Latin name. And you know what it means?'
'What?' she murmured softly.
'Small.'
She snorted.
'I'm serious! So, I bet he has a swell time with the ladies,' I said. 'You know, with the magnifying glass, and the tweezers and the thimbles instead of con-'
Suze just giggled. 'And what does my name mean then?'
I frowned. 'Uh, Susannah? That's Hebrew, I think. It means some flower or something.'
'What one?'
I grinned down at her apprehensive green eyes.
'A lily.'
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Suze's POV
Adam drove me to school and that. I was still shaky about that last dream I'd had about Paul. I mean, was it just me being over-imaginative? Or was he really trying to torment me again? Oh God no. I didn't think that I could handle that again. I had been near breaking point last time he'd been at that gig. I wasn't sure if I could survive another round of seeing him when I slept as well as when I was awake.
If they were dreams, why could I feel the pain that strong?
I still wasn't sure about Jesse. I mean, was he still mad at me for acting like a bitch to the bitch? I mean, Querida? Or was he just wondering if his beautiful Susannah was safe from the likes of Paul Slater? Probably not . . .
I dunno. Maybe I underestimated how Jesse felt about me. You know, like, took if for granted? Or maybe he took ME for granted! Yeah, like how guilty would he feel if one day I just WASN'T THERE? HUH? TELL ME THAT JESSE.
. . . I need therapy.
No sooner than Miss Phillips saying that class was over, the crackly PA sounded out. 'Could Susannah Simon please come to the front office please? Susannah Simon?'
I turned a customary shade of burgundy, and groaned, grabbing my school books and stuff and hightailing it to the holy man's office.
Hehehe . . . holy man.
Oh, shut up.
Planting myself in a seat in front of his desk, I said, in a very bad imitation of Lurch from the Addam's Family, 'You rang?'
Hell, I dunno if he even says that. But I said it anyway. So sue me.
Looking up from paper work, Father Dominic fiddled with his glasses anxiously. 'Susannah, how are you?'
'Recovering from a near death experience, actually, and yourself?' I gave him a dazzling smile.
He wasn't amused.
'Susannah, please, this isn't the time to joke. There was a murder last night.'
'Whoa, tact much?' I groaned. 'Way to bum me out even more –'
'Hush.' He handed me the Carmel Pine Cone – you know, the paper. I read it pretty nonchalantly. 'Yeah, and that has to do with us, what?'
'Well, there may be a ghost –'
'No ghost,' I informed him.
He stared at me. 'How do you know –'
'"The victim, a teenage girl between sixteen to eighteen, was found in the alley between Hudson and Marsh's Secondhand Bookstore, and the Zodiac Print shop on Jettison Street. The victim had suffered severe bruising and wounding to the neck area." I happen to know that she is not a ghost, Padre. She is either very dead, or a vampire.'
He frowned at me, and stood up in annoyance. 'Susannah, simply because it states that there was trauma to her neck, it doesn't mean that –'
'I happened to be wandering around Jettison St. last night,' I said indignantly, sitting back in the chair and crossing my legs. He gave me an inquisitive look. 'Don't ask,' I rolled my eyes. 'But there was a brief encounter with one of our fanged friends.'
'The Beaumont boy?' Father Dom asked, sitting back down.
'Nup. Someone he bit, thought,' I said. 'Or . . . no. It couldn't have been him. He got turned into a vampire AFTER I went over to his house that time and got him all suspicious about his dad, which totally leads to the fact that I'm purely responsible for his current blood-craving, sun-shy condition . . . but no need to point out the obvious,' I babbled on, feeling rueful.
Father Dom was kind of staring at me. 'I . . . I see,' he said slowly. Only I doubt he did. See, I mean.
That was when I saw a shower of blue from the corner. I know, it could have been ANYONE, but I still freaked, and totally fell out of the chair.
But God, it was only little Timmy.
'Suze!' he squealed, running up to me and giving me a big hug. 'You're not dead!'
Uh . . . yay?
'Nope,' I grinned doubtfully, arching my eyebrows at Father Dom, who was smiling fondly at Timmy.
Tim beamed complacently into my shoulder. 'I missed you,' he shrugged. 'And I was worried that that Paul man beat you up again.'
'Well, he tried, but –' I stopped, and Father Dom looked at me sharply.
'Susannah? You've seen him since that incident yesterday?' he demanded.
'Um . . . well, technically no,' I shifted awkwardly. No, not SHIFTED actually. Just the normal shifting, the human kind, thanks.
'Susannah . . .'
'I had another dream about him, okay?' I snapped very quickly. 'But I'm fine. I wasn't, but I am now. It was freaky, but then Adam told me that my name meant Lily in Hebrew and that Paul mean Small and I calmed down and –'
'Who's Adam?' chirped Timmy, swinging his arms around playfully. I paled again. 'Um . . . nothing,' I said, looking cautiously at Father Dom, who wasn't too impressed.
'Susannah, what happened in this dream?' he was scowling disapprovingly at me. And this is the guy you go to for reconciliation. Yay. 'Nothing important,' I said, blushing deeply. My face felt very, very hot.
'Well, it could be. What –'
'NOTHING, okay?!' I yelled at him, throwing myself back into the chair and crossing my arms, 'Why do you all jump to conclusions that something is happening between me and –'
'Susannah,' Father Dom said in bafflement, 'For goodness sake, calm down. I was merely enquiring about dream. It could have some symbolic significance –'
'Well, it doesn't,' I sulked, glowering at nothing in particular. I know, SO mature. But hey, why did Father Dom think that something was going on between us? Me and Paul, I mean, not me and Father Dom. Ew . . . I mean, that CPR was completely last resort, guys. No ideas, please? But it wasn't just him. Everyone lately seemed to think that something was happening.
(A/N: Or maybe someone just has a guilty conscience, Suze. Hmm . . . think about that?)
Well, there was nothing. So screw everyone who thought there was.
Grrr . . .
'Be that as it may, Susannah, I still suggest that this murder of this girl merits further investigation. Tonight, we can –'
I panicked. 'Tonight?'
'Yes, I can –'
'Busy,' I said quickly.
He looked at me suspiciously. 'I've . . .um, I have heaps of homework. Big project about . . . '
Parties with my friends?
'. . . World War, um, four. I mean, one. Yeah. You know, with the guns, and the navy people?'
Tim sniggered. 'It's fun blowing people up.'
We stared at him.
'On the X Box,' he said quickly.
My my, computer influences these days . . .
My priest friend didn't look very happy. Or convinced. But still, the slight chance that I might have been taking my schoolwork seriously, well, he wasn't going to question that and drag me out of this possible delusion.
'Well, if that is so, I suppose this can wait.'
You bet it can, dude.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Feeling a little sleepy, I had a hot shower. The hot water trailed down my body soothingly, cleansing my suspected oily skin. I rubbed a splodge of Herbal Essence into my stressed out hair, feeling it go all silky beneath my fingers. I mean, in the water, it went dead straight. Out – well . . . it was very curly. Aaah, lovely shower . . . It would wake me up for the party.
I mean, come on, I needed this. Don't look at me like that. So I lied to a priest. What? It wasn't as if writing about people dying was different to a party.
. . . Well, um, okay, it WAS. But so what? I needed a break! After everything that was happening, I needed a time out.
Badly.
I mean, seriously. If I didn't go to this shindig, I was going to get WRINKLES. And GREYS.
Then how bad would everyone feel?
Yeah. Thought so.
Selecting oh so carefully, I pulled out this neat little white denim skirt that I totally got for half the retail price. It was Jordache; very cute. Well . . . okay, it was kind of short. Okay, as in half of my thigh short . . . but it wasn't as if it was MICRO-MINI or something. And seriously, my legs are nice. Jesse said it to his little sister, so therefore, it must be true!
. . . You don't have to say it.
I know I suck.
Oh dear, dear, dear.
Anyhoo. I then, after much deliberation, decided upon a little slinky, glittery, black spaghetti strapped tank top that had this little black beaded butterfly on the left side. The edge of the top had this totally cute beaded stringy edging, that kind of swayed as you moved around, chinking ever so slightly. And the front of it dipped into a decent V, nothing to skanky, but enough to, you know, look all sexy and stuff.
I let my hair dry naturally, and rubbed in some leave-in conditioner which was meant to enhance curls. Whether it did, I didn't know. But Gina said it worked. And I trust Gina. So in conditioner I trust too.
And after I was finished applying some make up – you know, a little mascara here, a little liner there, a bit o' foundation, bit o' rouge, lippy, gloss – um, sorry, rambling . . . um yeah, I slid into some black mini-stiletto Jimmy Choos. I'd broken them, first. Ha, wouldn't it be funny if I like, had to run a million miles from Paul in shoes I HADN'T broken? Ha, how ironic would that be?
(A/N: Yeah . . . ironic . . .)
A very nice pair of golden earrings dangled from my earlobes – you know, junk jewelry. Nothing special. Nay the gold bracelets on my wrist.
But as far as necklaces went, I hadn't changed from the golden Shaman pendant I'd received from Jesse. It . . . I dunno, it really, really meant something to me. I didn't want to take it off . . .
Over-romantic of me, I know. Considering how I wasn't even sure if the supplier even still liked me, after the way I acted, and the way his new friend had accted around him. You know? With the "I'm so cold. Warm me up" thing.
Frowning acrimoniously by then, I spritzed on some Ralph Lauren perfume that I'd embezzled from my mother, but stopped while I was doing so.
Lilies.
It was scented with lilies.
I smiled a soft little smile, and then put it back in my cupboard, looking up in the mirror of my bathroom. Neat. I looked pretty hot, if I do say so myself. Sophisticated.
Normal.
Serious. Never, in a million, billion, even trillion years, would you suspect that under that all Maybelline lurked one very complicated girl, who had enough love life dilemmas to last a million, billion, even trillion years.
I blinked at my reflection. Yay. Gina had been right. The conditioner had come through for me, to my advantage. The now dry curls were all very individual and very pretty, giving my face a very soft, feminine look.
And I smelled of fragrant lilies.
Things were looking up.
Grabbing my black Kate Spade, I ran out of my room and down the stairs, standing in front of the door, and waiting for Adam when –
'Where, exactly, do you think you are going, young lady?'
I winced. Oooh. That didn't sound good at all.
Tentatively, I spun around. Mum stood there, hands on hips, looking exceptionally pissed. As in, narrowed eyes, pursed lips, flared nostrils, expectantly raised eyebrows, the works.
'Um . . . church?'
Lame. I know. LAME!
She looked at my outfit. 'As if you'd be going to church wearing that, and on a school night. A Tuesday night, at that.'
'Okay,' I admitted, shrugging, 'A party. No biggie.'
'Suze,' Mum said angrily, marching up to me, 'Don't you think for one minute that I would let you go. You are grounded.'
WHAT?! NOOOOOO!!!
'Why?' I demanded. 'What have I done –'
'I called CeeCee, Father Dominic, everyone last night!' she exploded at me. 'You said that you were staying at CeeCee's and you weren't! Suze, how can I trust you? If Jake is right when he tells me that you are in a gang of some sort, well, I don't know what to do with you. I really don't. But I am ashamed if –'
'Mum!' I cried in outrage. And hurt, yeah. 'As IF! Come on, yeah, me totally going to a GANG bang in this outfit. Going to trash the school, knock over a couple more Junipero Serra statues, because ONE just wasn't enough for me and my big scary gangster mates –'
'Susannah, that's ENOUGH!' she shouted at me, stamping her foot. I kind of received that with a blow. I mean, not only does mum never get this mad, but well . . . that was what Jesse said to me yesterday. The "Susannah" bit and everything.
I blinked at her. 'I was kidding.'
'Well, I'm not,' she snapped. 'Now go up to your room and take that silly make up off. You are too old to be this irresponsible –'
'But I didn't do anything!' I protested.
'Do you have any idea how worried I was last night when I couldn't find you? I rang up to tell Mrs Webb that you forgot your sleeping bag, and she had no idea what I was talking about! And we both were in a state, worried that you were lying in some dark alley where that poor girl, Melanie Spriggs was found this morning . . . you have no idea how scary it is, to know that one day I might have to wake up, go to WCAL, and do a missing persons report on you, sweetie,' Mum said, giving me a very emotional look. 'I worry so much about you. You've been so good since Brooklyn, and last night, you had to go spoil all of that.' She sniffed, and instantly, I felt very, very bad.
'Mum . . .' I said slowly, 'I didn't . . . I wasn't . . . I'm really, really sorry –'
She sighed, still staring at me, all motherly and disappointed.
I inwardly cringed. I hate it when mum is mad. Or upset with me. It just reminds me so much of when I was the Teen Terror back in New York, always getting hauled in by the police, and mum crying at night, asking God and crap why they took her husband away from her, and why I couldn't be a normal teenage girl. Here, mum had been happy, with Andy and stuff. And I had been a good little daughter. Not wearing so much black, anyway. But yeah.
'Mum,' I said feeling very low by then, 'I'm sorry. CeeCee, well, she and I had a spat, and I got annoyed and slept at Adam's instead. Remember? That guy that Dope – I mean, Brad called a fag?' I added, in case she needed a little false persuasion about Adam'' sexuality. He'' kill me, but he wasn't even here yet. So blah.
Mum's lips twitched, and she sighed again. Enough with the sighs already! 'Okay, Suze,' she reasoned. 'Go to this party. But be sure to be back by . . . I don't know, one good for you?'
I was surprised. 'Um, sure.' I was expecting something stupid like ten or something.
She smiled a little. 'Don't drink, honey. And if any nice guys, you know, ask you to –'
'Mum!' I snapped, 'ew!'
She grinned knowingly, 'All I'm saying is, invite them over to dinner first, so I can make sure that they are good enough for you. And to see if they have a last name that's not too embarrassing.'
Okay, for a start, I was still involved with someone! Susannah de Silva sounded PERFECT. So ner to mum. But I didn't want to say that just in case I was wrong, and Jesse really did . . . really was . . . um . . .yeah, that.
'Suze? Is this a good time to give you a hug? Or would that be too embarrassing for you or something? I don't really know about girls at your age, with the mother-affection thing. I'm not sure –'
'Nah, hugging is cool,' I smiled. 'Especially with a mum as great as you. Thanks for worrying mum, but really. I can handle myself.'
And voila with the hugs. Aww . . . come on, mock me if you will.
But I bet your mum isn't as great as mine.
So there.
Adam's horn suddenly tooted into our little mother/daughter moment.
'Oh, um, I'll see you at one,' she shrugged.
'Yeah.'
'Susie . . . take care.'
What MAGNIFICENT advice.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
I was feeling kind of sleepy. So, in the back seat of Adam's car, I had a little lie down. Which CeeCee was perfectly happy with. Meaning, she got to sit up front with Adam. I'm sure he was happy with that too, deep under all of those layers.
You know, those knowing-Hebrew-name-meanings/actually-possessing-a-mature- side layers.
But damn those two crazy kids, they were still avoiding conversation, simply looking at each other. Hell, CeeCee twitched when Adam bumped her hand to reach for the gear stick. And so did Adam.
Man, this was going to be a fun party.
Fun for all the family.
Yeah. For sure.
CeeCee was dressed in this very sleek looking outfit, with black capris, and her trade-mark polo neck. It was a cobalt blue colour, though, and looked stunning against her white-blond hair, which was in a very chic half twist. And I'd forced her to wear this totally cute belt, too, which set the whole look off. You know, the classy-yet-cool look.
Adam wasn't doing so bad himself. He was clad in a cherry red Tommy Hilfiger shirt, and khaki cargos. Hehehe. While it wasn't the height of heterosexuality, there was no comment.
Oh well, it was better than Tad, in his silk tee, with his Porsche . . . I mean, talk about gigolo wannabe.
But yeah, you could say I was preoccupied.
So that was why I didn't protest about the destination of said party until we actually got there.
And I kind of freaked.
'Whoa, is this the place?' CeeCee asked with a slow grin. 'It's a little big.'
'The bigger the better,' Adam said sloppily, 'To mock Suze's little blond episode earlier of course,' he added when CeeCee shot him a "are you sure you're not a homosexual?" look.
Waking up from my half-asleep state, I sat upwards.
'Oh, crap,' I muttered.
'Yeah, it's a little overwhelming, aye,' Adam agreed.
'No . . . CeeCee,' I hissed, 'This is Tad's house.'
CeeCee twisted around to look at me sharply. 'You're joking. The vamp-'
'Vandal!' I cut her off quickly with an energetic click of my fingers, giving her a glare. 'Yeah. You know rich kids these days, so suppressed and all, going out of their way to be rebellious –'
'Were you going to say vampire?' Adam asked with irritation, 'because you have told me, remember?'
I blanched a little. 'Uh, yeah. That's right. I knew that.'
We all exited the car, my anxiety increasing by the second.
'Oh look, there's Jesse for you!' CeeCee squealed, 'And he's brought . . . um . . . oh, whoa. A sister?'
'Whoa,' agreed Adam.
I turned around, and saw a TOTALLY HOT Jesse, dressed in black jeans and a black shirt with a black denim jacket tugged casually over the top – I couldn't see any brand names or anything from here - helping a very dainty looking Querida Andres out of his not-so-dainty looking Cadilac.
I glared acidly, and spun away.
'Yeah,' I said. 'So let's go party then –'
'That's her?' asked Adam, his mouth open slightly. 'That's the Spanish chick? Well, I can see why you'd be upset –'
'Adam!' CeeCee elbowed him.
Adam snapped out of it, and saw that I was looking a little hurt. 'I mean . . . that was my sarcastic voice.'
'Oddly enough, it sounded like your "wow there's one hot babe" voice,' I responded succinctly.
CeeCee looked pained. 'I'm sure that she's just a . . . a friend?' she suggested. 'You know –'
'Not likely,' I said. 'He spent all of his holiday in Spain with her.'
The loud music coming from the house was now starting to really annoy me. I looked up the long driveway, to where the huge Beaumont mansion was. Seriously, why would a rich guy like Thaddeus Beaumont, vampire loser extraordinare, host a party like this? Just for his son, Tad, who he'd most recently turned into a blood sucking fiend too? Because if that was so, well, this party sure was going to be hoppin'.
In a deadly kind of way.
I started to really freak out by then, forgetting Jesse and Querida. I mean, what if that was all this party was? A trap to get a bunch of seemingly oblivious kids together, just so they could have a fang-fest? Oh my God . . . I couldn't even take Tara the Newbie. How could I take a – possibly – house full of vampires?
And without stakes?
Oh, GOD, even No. 2 Pencils?!
'Simon, what's your glitch?' asked CeeCee curiously. 'You look . . . weird.'
'Neurotic. Ashen. Eccentric. Like you're going to barf, like,' Adam added most necessarily.
And I kind of did feel like that.
Because I suddenly had a terrible feeling that tonight wasn't going to be a night where I could just relax. Oh, no.
Well, it was going to be a fight to the death then.
Vamps vs. Susannah the Lily.
Oh, so one-sided.
Unless Jesse God-is-gracious De Silva lent a hand.
. . . So I'd asked Adam what "Jesse" mean. Sue me, why don't you?
As the security guard, who looked alarmingly pale, let us through the tall gates, I kind of gulped. I didn't share my extreme qualms with CeeCee and Adam. They were here purely to have a good time. And hell, if that was what they wanted, that was what they were going to get. A stupid crucifix repelled creep could spoil my night of fun, but not my friends'. Nope, not a chance.
Yeah, a girl can dream?
The grass was very green. I noticed that. The moon was very big and round and bright. I noticed that too. The stars were twinkling frigidly. Also taken into account. The music was loud and funky, and there were dancing bodies all over the place, inside the house – I could see though the revealing windows – and out. I could see a bunch of jocks gathered around a kegger, laughing and eyeing a group of girls who were giggling furiously nearby.
And joy of joys, there was Kelly nacho-platter-for-brains Prescott. Wearing a tailored hot pink dress, no less. It wasn't too easy on the eyes, let me tell you.
'Hey, Suze,' she acknowledged. 'McTavish. Webb.'
'Hi, Kelly,' Adam said in exaggerated excitement. 'Hey, where'd you get that dress? I want one just like it for my scarecrow! Really scare the crows – and the humans.'
Kelly tossed her hair. 'Yeah, whatever McTavish. Just because you look like shit.'
CeeCee glared. 'Hey, Kell. Speaking of scarecrows, sung "If I only had a brain" recently?'
Kelly looked highly insulted, her mouth opened in shock.
'Please, don't make her sing again!' Adam begged, holding his ears and screwing up his nose. 'Memories of fourth grade choir, NO!'
'Hey, thanks for letting me borrow those clothes,' I said lightly, seeing the impending bitch slap that Adam was earning himself.
'Whatever, Simon,' she snapped. 'God, when are you going to ditch the dork and the albino? They totally weigh you down.'
I shrugged. 'Nah, I'm fine with my friends, thanks. They actually like me?'
'What the hell is that supposed to –' she began, but then Debbie and - gag – Dopey came stumbling over.
Apparently, very drunk.
'Hi, Suze – hic! – and you all,' Debbie slurred at me, leaning heavily into Dopey. 'We were just going to get a room because we're soooo wasted –'
'I think we've seen enough stereotypical youth stupidity,' CeeCee rolled her eyes, pulling Adam and me away from Kelly, Debbie and Dopey.
All dopes in their own rights, of course.
CeeCee lead us through the doors of the fabulous mansion. Everyone there was having a seemingly great time. A DJ was in the corner, bopping to the steady beat of the music. Another bunch of jocks were ditching ice at each other, and some guy roared, 'Duuuude! Cool party! Way to go Beaumont!'
I froze, and looked around frantically.
And there, in a darker corner, Tad leant casually against a pillar, eyeing me with a very dubious smile. It was very "I know what you did last summer" and all.
Sheesh . . .
'Suze? Suze are you coming?' CeeCee asked me, giving me a tug.
Dazed, and blinked and stared at her. 'Huh?'
She rolled her eyes. 'Are you – hey, what were you staring at?'
I looked back quickly, but Tad was gone.
Oh God . . .
Well, the party wasn't as great as I thought it would be. Especially, when the DJ chucked on a slow dancing song.
To my partial ecstasy, Adam asked CeeCee if she would be kind enough to not make him look like a loner. She was kind enough.
Well, it was a start.
But me? Well, I looked around for Jesse, and all . . .
But noooo. He's too busy, slow-dancing with his hot date. Queer-ida Andres.
I guess that kind of stung, and all. Just, like, seeing her with her arms around his neck like that. I mean, sure, Jesse wasn't even looking her, but still. He totally knew I was at the party. So WHY was he doing that? To purposely hurt me? to get back at me for being such a bitch the previous night? What?
I guess I was staring at them pretty intensely, because next thing, I felt a poke in my shoulder, and I actually jumped.
'Sorry, uh, wanna dance with me?' this guy asked. He was tall and blond, and looked pretty, well . . . thick. SO not my type of guy. Ever? I'm not so into blonds. But with a second glance at Jesse and Querida on the dance floor, only a few partners away from the intense looking Adam and CeeCee, I muttered, 'Sure. I'd love to.'
He grinned, turned around, gave a bunch of jocks an animated thumbs up, very Wiggles and all, and escorted me onto the dance floor. Or, the area where everyone was dancing, and stuff.
You're kidding me.
I wanted revenge, but did my revenge have to be so dim-witted?
Well, I asked for it, I guess.
He – Will, as he introduced himself as – placed his hands on my hips, and I set my own around his neck, and rested my head on his – let's face it – pathetic excuse for a chest. I mean, once you've see Jesse, there was no such thing as a better chest.
Or even P-
SHUT UP SUZE.
I gulped, as Will and I rotated in slow, graceful steps. Well, again, he wasn't exactly the best dancer either. He stepped on my feet so many times, I lost count.
That was when Jesse looked away from Querida, and locked his eyes with me.
I stared at him in alarm, and kind of froze.
'Uh, Susan? You still alive?' Will hooted, 'Ha, alive, funny, ha . . . '
Shaking my head fast and looking away from Jesse indignantly, I said, 'Uh, yeah. Sorry, I was just, um –'
But he wasn't exactly interested in my "um" apology.
In fact, he wasn't interested in much apart from mouthing energetically to all his friends, who were cheering him on and were making some very tasteless movements that appeared to involve me. Oh for God's sake, I was pissed at Jesse, but STILL.
I jerked away from Will. 'Sorry, I gotta go,' I snapped at him, and went back to sitting in a vacant chair. I seized a cup of something, and downed it.
Oops. That must have been alcoholic.
Or at least, spiked.
Ah. Not good. I frowned, and leaned back in the chair, fanning myself. Oh, God. The song changed again. Another slow-dancing song began serenading. Great. Just freaking FAB.
Oooh, head. Yuck.
I closed my eyes. Was it just me? Or did this party SUCK?
'Susannah, are you all right?'
My eyes snapped open. Above me, Jesse stood, all tall, dark and handsome. He was looking way sexy-romantic and all in his black outfit. The way that his hair fell across his forehead and behind his ears was just so perfect and so totally hot that I could feel myself melting –
NO.
I glared, crossed my arms and looked away brusquely.
'Dandy. Now shoo.'
He sat down beside me stubbornly. 'Susannah, please. That little stunt wasn't very effective. I have to ask this; why are you jealous of Querida?'
I looked at him sharply. And threw out a little laugh, too. You know, for authenticity as stuff. 'Me? Jealous of HER? As if. Don't flatter yourself, De Silva. I wouldn't be jealous of –'
'Someone who asked me to slow-dance,' he interrupted hintingly.
I stared at him. What was he trying to say? That he didn't want to dance with her? Impossible? What straight guy wouldn't want to dance with her?
I voiced this out loud. But dammit, it only served to make him smile.
But his response kind of made me smile, you know?
'Someone who is in love with Susannah Simon,' he said, bowing his head gallantly.
I blushed furiously, and my eyes flickered back to his. My heart began to race a little. Could he . . . could he still like me?
Oh for God's sake, Suze! Of course the dude likes you! He just said that he LOVED you, God dammit!
Oh yeah.
I gave him a very warm smile. But then I dropped it.
'Jesse . . . God, I feel shitty now. I'm really sorry about yesterday. I suck, I know it. I was just all happy that you and I were going to have some alone time and then Querida showed up with her Spanish accent and her "I'm cold" routine and I got all mad because you gave her your jacket and that meant that if I said that I was cold there would be no jacket for me and then I just got really pissed because she kept looking at you like she owned you and she kept looking at me like I was this stupid bug that had crawled onto her un-English speaking shoe-'
Yeah, as if shoes could talk, any language.
But all of that didn't matter, because about then, Jesse placed a single finger on my lips, grinning secretively. I frowned at him. 'What?' I demanded.
He chuckled a little, sending my heart into a little pleasant tizzy. 'You are just so adorable.'
I blushed even harder.
Really? Aww . . .
And with that, Jesse extended his hand to me. 'Would you like to –'
'Yeah,' I cut in.
Whoa, a little keen there Suze?
'I mean, yes,' I said. What I was saying yes to, I didn't know. 'Um, what is it that I would like to do again?'
Again, he smiled amiably. 'Well, I was going to say, would you like to pick up from yesterday before we were interrupted from my friend,' he stressed the word, 'but if you would prefer to dance –'
'Picking up is fine!' I half-squeaked.
Oh got, could I get any more pathetic?
'I mean . . . um, picking up from where we left of, not actual, ACTUAL picking up of –'
But he totally grinned, and pulled me into the nearest vacant room which was, fair enough, what looked like a library.
But I was so not complaining.
So there we were, kissing ever so passionately, nearly knocking over the bookshelves all together. I gasped for breath, as my heart was beating so fast, I felt like it was going to explode in happiness. Jesse loved me! YAY!
'Susannah,' Jesse panted. 'You . . . you smell like lilies.'
'You noticed.'
'Yes, it's a beautiful scent. You are even more beautiful,' he added, capturing my lips in another spine-tingling kiss.
Aww, squidgy! In a kind of cheesy way, but still, the kiss totally made up for all cheesiness.
(A.N: Mmm . . . cheese . . .)
That was about when a voice interrupted.
'Hey Suze. Nice to see you again . . . '
I broke away from Jesse with a jolt.
Tad stood against the doorframe, his head down, looking at me in amusement from a dark angle. Jesse stiffened in my embrace.
I felt my blood – my own and the transfused – run horribly cold . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Oooh . . . again, sorry for the length. It's now real late. Please review? Show me that my late-nights aren't completely worthless for you wonderful people?
Oh, I'm yawning. Well, tell me what you thought! With the Jesse stuff, and the dream, and how stupid that Will dude was, and the CeeCee/Adam advancement, and . . . yeah. Say what you think is gonna happen too. It's kind of obvious. But yeah.
Regards, Very tired MystAngel.