BAZ
She's smiling at me. She's smiling at me all smug. I don't like it.
"Fiona. What?"
Her sharp features just look so satisfied. Her dark eyes and hair are so different from the way my mother's looked. Simon can't help but gawk at her. His manners are atrocious.
"You've found a bloke. I'm happy for you."
I raise an eyebrow. "That can't be it. That can't be all you're happy about," I tell her.
She shakes her head, her hair whipping slightly. "I'm just pleased. And I have a present for you, Basilton."
Simon seems amused. I elbow him indelicately.
"Thank you. What is it?" I said Thank You because I didn't want her to think I was being rude, and thus, curse me. Not that you can curse a fucking vampire. I'm already queer and undead. What can she do to me?
She walked over to her fridge, then pulled out a batch of scones shaped like bats. "Cherry," she told us. Simon looked incredulous. He hated Fiona. She had once spelled his feet to the floor!
"Don't eat them all at once. I want you to savour them. Like you should savour each other."
I stare at her.
"Not like that, perv," she swats me with an exasperated roll of the eyes.
Simon just grins. "Sour cherry?"
Fiona nods. "I have my ways of knowing."
"Me."
She nods again. "Nice wings, Simon. You can look like bats together."
He blushes. His moles look dark against his pink cheeks. "Y-yeah."
My aunt smirks and I hate it again. But she's too good. "You really know how to pick 'em, Basilton. The Chosen One for Christ's sake."
Yeah. The worst chosen one to have ever been chosen, but then I take it back. "Yeah. He's great."
"Aw, thanks Baz!"
"Oh, shush, Snow."
"Simon."
"Simon."
"First name basis?" Fiona's damn smirk!
"I've always called him Baz," Simon says. "He told me I could the first time we met."
Fiona smiles and leans over the kitchen counter. "You're both nerds for each other. Pitch and Snow. EVen your names juxtapose. I dunno, guys. You're like star-crossed lovers."
The thought of Twinkle, Twinkle Litter Star stuck out in my mind. I think it stood out in Simon's mind too. He smiles.
"Well," I say, trying to escape her eyes, "I think we'll go. Thanks for the scones."
Simon nodded vigorously. "Yes, thanks."
Fiona can see what I'm trying to do, but she lets me. "Okay, kids. Get going. Go dancing. Go dining. Something, anything. Just get outta here." She's not smirking, she's smiling. But only just. It's between a cunning grin and a knowing smile. She's really something. "See you both sometime."
I nod gratefully. Simon does too and leaves out the front door. I linger a moment. "Thanks Aunt Fiona."
She gives me one last smile and begins to close the door before disappearing a moment and reappearing with the plate. "Take it. But I want the plate back."