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Chapter Eight
Some time during the morning, I feel my bed depress. Eric's getting ready to leave for the daylight hours. Groggily, I turn and bring my arms up in the air.
"Huggles," I say thickly, still drowning in the sea of sleep.
"What?" He sounds completely confused. "I don't know what that means, Sookie."
"Hug," I say a little more firmly, flapping my arms around.
"Oh, of course," he says quietly, finally getting it.
He bends down over the bed and I manage to slip my arms round his neck tightly. I feel the side of his face brushing against mine, and him breathing shallowly near the rim of my ear. Then I draw my hands back after a good second of hugging, slide my fingers over his face with my fingernails digging into the curve of his jaw, and I move to press my lips gently into his. I am completely unprepared. You would think with all the hours I've spent with Eric as my best friend- all the hours watching his lips move as he talks and those fangs- that I'd already have some idea of what it'd feel like, having his lips touch mine. But I'm completely thrown off by how cold they feel compared to mine as I press mine against his. It wakes me a bit from my sleepy daze, Eric makes some sort of strangled noise at the back of his throat, and then I feel his fingers closing painfully over my hands and pulling them away from his face.
"Sookie, that was incredibly stupid." I hear him say through my stupor, and then he's gone.
I don't even hear the window close or anything. The tone of his voice shakes me awake; He didn't sound very pleased at all. No, he sounded quite disgusted and shocked, like me doing it was the most appalling thing in the world. Friends did nice things like that all the time, though, right? I didn't know it was such a terrible thing to do to your best friend.
I kiss my Grandmother all the time, and she knows it's just a friendly thing to express gratitude and love for the person. I thought with Eric it would be the same thing, because we're friends, and we're very close, maybe more so than I am with my Grandmother. Is it wrong to kiss someone of the opposite sex like that, though? Does it mean something different, if you do? It just meant the same thing as kissing my Grandmother, I thought. I thought it was perfectly natural to do it.
Sitting up slowly against my bed frame, I reach over and flick on my night lamp. I try to think about what I feel about kissing Eric. It was something I kind of did without thinking. I think I had liked it, though. I liked the cold pressure of Eric's lips against mine, and the way some weird scent lingered on his skin while I did it. We haven't ever kissed before. We hug sometimes, sure, but mainly I'm the one who takes the first step and does it. I think Eric's embarrassed about doing things like that. Maybe that's why he reacted the way he was to me pecking him on the lips? He wasn't expecting it, so it shocked him.
Majorly confused, I sit up straighter on my mattress and bring my legs up to my chest, curling my arms around them and resting my chin against my kneecaps. Clearly Eric didn't feel it was very right of me to do. I could hear the disapproval in his voice clear as day. Me kissing him got stuck up his craw in a huge way. Maybe it was a wrong thing of me to do? I knew about certain barriers, but I didn't think I was crossing any in just giving Eric a goodnight kiss. Or good morning, since it's probably closer to morning now.
Now I don't know what to expect when we see each other again. Will he just pretend it never happened? Should I pretend it never happened, or should I just apologize for it? I really hope this hasn't driven a wedge in our friendship now. I guess I wasn't thinking about boundaries. I hadn't known anything was wrong with giving him a goodnight peck, but maybe there was? I hope he'll still want to be friends. When my daddy was still alive, I'd give him kisses goodnight like that all the time. I didn't know there was anything wrong with it. Is there something wrong with kissing a guy, even if he isn't a parent? I don't know.
Annoyed with thinking, I turn on my side and switch off my lamp again, trying to fit more sleep in before school. But after a little over five minutes of lying awake in the dark, I know I'll never be able to get back to sleep. Turning on my night-lamp again, I search for the book Eric was reading of mine before on the floor.
I feel my face flush with heat. He was reading Twilight. Yes, I'm actually somewhat enjoying reading Twilight, because its supernatural and who doesn't love vampires? It's a guilty little pleasure and, besides, lots of girls my age read it.
I find the little corner that he has creased, telling me where he was up to in reading. It's the part in the meadow where the vampire Edward was telling Bella how he tried resisting tasting her blood and letting his hunger win. I read a bit of it, then realize Eric has been right all along. Reading books like this isn't helping. Whoever is coming for me, he may even be a vampire. If he tries anything Edward on me, who knows how I'll be able to resist? Edward isn't like half the vampires that came out of the coffin. For one thing, vampires don't sparkle and they have fangs. This person coming for me, Eric said, won't be sweet. If I want to survive, I'll have to stop trying to want everything to be romantic, like in those books I read. It is probably time I grow up and try to view things more seriously. I can't bring myself to stop reading my novels though; I like them too much. I'll just try to see things in a different perspective, I decide, no matter how hard it'll be. Brainwashing. Sometimes I think books are capable of brainwashing people. Better get my head right before this person comes for me.
My alarm clock goes off an hour later, telling me its time to rise and shine for school.
I'm in eighth grade now, and school is as difficult as ever. High school is even harder than I was prepared for. The tests are hard and I have even more difficulty concentrating on completing mine in a room full of people. My teacher, Mr. Merlotte, is now my English teacher for my grade. He's still probably the most understanding person compared to all the other teachers. He still pulls me out of class if I get headaches or can't concentrate on my studies enough.
When I get changed and brush my hair in the mirror, I shriek in disgust at my face. I have a humongous zit directly in the middle of my chin, and it feels sore. Humongous really isn't an exaggeration, because I know its real noticeable.
Usually I never get zits. Worst day ever!
At school I feel like people are staring right at my zit. When I try to hold conversation with Tara, her eyes drift off constantly to where my zit is. One girl whose thoughts I hear even dares to think on how huge it is, and that she pities me. She actually pities me over having a huge zit on my face!
Halfway through the day I've resorted to covering my hand over it, hoping no one will notice. School kids can sometimes be so cruel. Honestly, I can't wait until school is officially finished for me. Leaving school is totally going to be a blast.
Even Mr. Merlotte seems to notice I'm in a terrible mood today. When he gets through his lecture and tells everybody to go off and choose a subject to start an assignment on, he comes straight over to me, smiling sympathetically. He pats me on the shoulder and leans down near me beside my desk.
"Everything alright with you, Sookie?" he asks gently. "You seem a little... off today. Is there something you'd like to have a chat to me about?"
My hand is still strategically placed over my zit, as I rest my elbow out on the desk. "Nope, everything is good and well, Mr. Merlotte," I assure him half-heartedly. "I've just had a bad morning."
"Care to talk about it?"
This is what I love best about Mr. Merlotte. He's always super nice and understanding. He never gives anybody detentions. He actually goes out of his way to make friends with students.
"No, nothing to talk about," I tell him, managing to sound cheery. I'm not allowed to tell Mr. Merlotte anything anyway, in regards to Eric and everything that is happening to me. His offer to chat is real inviting, though. I wrack my brains to say something normal that teenagers say. "I'm just feeling a bit self-conscious today."
"Why's that?" Mr. Merlotte asks, his eyes scanning around my face with worry.
"I got a huge zit," I tell him. "I feel like everybody keeps staring at it, like it's a third eye or something. It's so embarrassing."
He laughs quietly. "Oh, come on. I'm sure it isn't that bad."
"Oh, it is," I insist. "I've heard a few people saying how gross it is."
"By this?" Mr. Merlotte touches his forehead with his forefinger quickly, meaning my gift. I nod quietly, and he hums in understanding. "Well, don't listen to them, all right? Pay no attention. I used to have a face full of zits when I was back in school. It's normal."
"You did?" I find that real hard to believe that Mr. Merlotte suffered zits for some reason.
"Sure, I did." He rises up from the floor and his knees give out a terrible crack. "How you going with your assignment? You picked a topic yet?"
"Not yet," I confess. "But I think I have some ideas."
"Well, it's due next Monday. Don't take too long."
"I won't, Mr. M. Promise."
He gives me a friendly smile, and then off he goes, wandering around the room to see what other students are up to. Although we never said much, I feel instantly better talking a bit to Mr. Merlotte. It's just so wildly reassuring knowing that even adults suffered from zits as well.
For my assignment, I settle on doing my subject on Vikings. Since I know a Viking, I know Eric will have a lot to tell me on the subject. Hopefully he won't mind helping me out. He might even score me an A in the process.
Oh. Eric...
Last night- or morning, who knows?- flashes by unpleasantly in my mind. Me kissing him goodnight. I can tell Eric wasn't too pleased with it. But surely he'd still want to be friends, right? Losing Eric over something so little as a kiss... it torments me. He's my best friend, I feel like he is the closest person I have in my life, because he knows literally everything about what I'm going through. I love him. I don't mean I love him in a boyfriend kind of way. Well, I don't think I do.
Thinking about everything just makes me feel depressed, so I force myself into not thinking about it anymore. Besides, I'll see tonight whether Eric still wants anything to do with me. He comes around mostly every night sometimes. Hopefully he'll still come around tonight and nothing will be changed between us.
When I get home from school and eat dinner, nightfall hardly comes quickly enough. I say goodnight to Gran, race upstairs, and get myself all ready and prepared for Eric's visit. Since I'm still embarrassed over my zit, I turn to the mirror above my dresser and make some attempts in covering it up and making it less noticeable. Somehow, caking make-up on a zit makes it screamingly obvious. I just pray to God that Eric won't find it gross.
When Eric arrives, he lets me know by knocking gently against the window. Usually he isn't so formal- he just comes right in- so I feel a bit tense and weary when he waits for me patiently to pull open my window for him and step aside for him to climb in. He comes in feet first and lands on the carpet as silent as a mouse. Just as I'm turning to close my window up, he stops me by putting his hands on my shoulders and pulling me back.
"No, Sookie. Somebody else is coming."
Well, this is unusual. Usually it's just Eric and me. My mind begins to race. Who else is coming then? Why is Eric acting so formal and weird?
A funny popping noise comes from behind us, and I whirl into the direction it came from. And there, standing with his walking stick, white hair and all, is my luminous fairy Grandfather. But judging by his ragged appearance, luminous definitely isn't the thing that comes to mind. He looks different, in a very upsetting way. His usually clean appearance is marred by the wrinkles and splotches of dirt covering his clothes. He also has a weeping cut on his hand and on his cheek, and a few smears of dirt on his forehead and the tip of his nose. His usually combed hair is strangely unkempt and fuzzy, too. He looks as if he has just been in one huge battle.
"Grandfather?" I gasp, a little shakily. He looks terrible. "What's happened to you?"
He sucks in a deep breath and holds up a finger as if to say "Give me a minute, dear one." And then he collapses onto my bed, breathing loudly, and my heart skips a beat. Can fairies suffer from panic attacks?
I exchange a nervous look with Eric. He isn't meeting my eyes. In fact, I'm pretty sure he is goggling my zit rudely.
"Yes, I know," I huff out. "I got a nasty pus-filled zit. The joys of being a teenager." Rolling my eyes, I scamper over to my Grandfather, who's holding his walking stick tight. His hand must be trembling, because the stick quivers. "What happened to you?" I ask him apprehensively.
He won't meet my eyes either.
"The home of the fairies was invaded, dear one," he says, and his voice shakes with sadness. "He slaughtered all the fairies. All my ancestors. There is none of us left, but me." Without warning, he chokes out a string of profanities. "Murderer. Fucking bastard! Evil piece of cow dung!"
"Who did?" I ask, as evenly as I possibly can.
Niall swears again underneath his breath. "I can't tell you," he says harshly. "But he is a bastard."
"Is this the same person that's coming for me?"
"Yes. No." Niall shrugs. "Maybe."
"Look at you," I whisper sadly. "You're bleeding and everything."
"Well, yes. I tried to stop the evil bastard, and we got into a terrible fight. I had to escape before I joined the casualties." Taking in a deep steadying breath, my Grandfather closes his eyes and places his other hand over his injured one. He seems to be concentrating hard on something, and then, with a zapping noise, his bleeding hand is completely healed. No more blood. No more gaping wound. Amazing.
"Wow," I breathe, amazed. "Can I do that, too?"
"You can. Put your hand near my cheek and think gentle thoughts."
Lifting my hand tentatively, I place my hand on my Grandfather's bleeding and scratched cheek. Think gentle thoughts? I think of how I felt kissing Eric goodnight last night. How much I appreciate him. A smile curls my lips and my Grandfather gives out a gentle huff of relief. I remove my hand and I gasp in shock. It worked! It actually worked! Somehow, I healed him! How awesome is that? Must be another cool fairy thing that I can do.
"Excellent, my dear girl. You are blooming into a skilled, young fairy. Already you make me proud."
I feel happy as a clam over that compliment from my Grandfather, but I try my very best not to let it show. Now doesn't seem a very good time to be happy. Not with what my Grandfather had only just gone through.
I sit down beside him, looking him over nervously. He looks so defeated and upset. It's heartbreaking. Eric walks over to us and kneels directly in front of me on the carpet. He's acting as if nothing happened with me kissing him goodnight, so I try to forget it as well. "Sookie, Niall and I have finally decided to reveal to you what is going on. We believe it is best you understand fully now."
"Is this the same bad guy that was in the yard last night?"
Apparently I've been paying more attention than Eric assumed I would be. Just by his expression, I know it was the bad guy who turned up last night.
"I don't want you to ask any questions, until I'm finished, okay? I know you're always overeager with your questions, but they're going to have to wait until I'm done."
I've always wanted to be let in, and now, here it is. Finally.
"Uh-huh," I nod. "No questions just yet. I'll keep my mouth shut. I promise." And then he tells me everything.
The person coming for me is a half-breed, called Warlow. He is both vampire and fairy. He's also the one who invaded into Niall's home, where other fairies live, just today. He killed most of the fairies, and Niall just only got out alive. He was lucky to have escaped. Since this Warlow is a mixture of breeds, he can walk in sunlight and he can also do all the things vampires can do. He can fly, he can glamour like Eric can. He can do everything. When Eric finally tells me that Warlow is potentially stronger than he is, Eric is embarrassed enough to lower his gaze from mine.
"What does he want from me, though?" I hiss, at both Niall and Eric.
They both exchange a look at that question. One that makes me filled with dread.
"You are to be his wife," Niall finally answers, and I feel all the air being sucked out from my lungs.
"His wife?" I repeat, my head swimming. "And what if I don't wanna be his wife? What if I don't wanna be anybody's wife?"
"We are not sure what he would do, Sookie. But we aren't ruling out him being low enough to kill you if he doesn't get his way," Eric says. His words are matter-of-fact and his face is cold and emotionless. "Which he won't," Eric adds after a beat, sounding very sure of himself. "No one tries to kill my best human friend and gets away with it."
Niall gives out a funny little snorting sound.
"Best friend? Jesus Christ, you two."
"Is there something wrong with that, Grandpa?" I ask him, a little defensively. "What's wrong with being besties?"
"I have seen into the future," Grandpa says, rolling his eyes. "And what I saw was not the actions of two best friends. Warlow would be shitting all over himself if he could see what I see. When I saw it, I almost shit myself!"
"So... Warlow expects me to be his bride?" I say slowly, bringing our conversation back to where it's supposed to be. "And if he doesn't get that from me, he's gonna become a threat and he's gonna kill me, like he did today with your fairy ancestors, Grandpa?"
This really is a lot to take in.
Hope this one wasn't bad? I'll go run and hide now. Thanks so much for reading, hope to hear your thoughts x