Freaksville (3 page)

“Of course, who hasn’t?” I have to yell to be heard when the music gets louder.

“Oh, I know right.” He’s sweating now. “Where did you get those contacts?” the guy asks eagerly. A little too eagerly…upon further inspection of this man…I notice the pen and paper he’s trying to hide under the table, and that his beer is actually root beer. Add in his overly eager, twitchy behavior? You have a very ticked witch. Narrowing my eyes at him, my suspicions are confirmed.

Reporter.

“These? I ordered them off Amazon. Aren’t they pretty?” I beam, batting my lashes. “My boyfriend said they complement my cheekbones nicely.”
Does that even make sense? Gag.
“What do
you
think?”

“They sure do,” Mr. Reporter says, quickly finding someone else to watch with those overly eager beady eyes.

“What’s going on here?” Devin returns with our drinks. He slams his down on the table and frowns at the reporter. Maybe able to sense the needy disposition on him right away, unlike me.

“I’m sorry, your name was?” I ask cheerfully.

“Bill,” he answers stiffly, eyeing Devin. Naturally the reporter would suspect him of being one of those pesky rumors. Considering he appears to be a long-lost member of Motionless in White. Nothing against them, great music and, if they were in fact vamps,
that’d be so cool
.

“Bill here was just asking me about my contacts.” Biting my lip, I carefully scoot over on the ripped leather seat and tug him to sit beside me. Not letting his hand go, I lace our fingers and beam up at him. Like we’re all in
love
. It’s very unlikely for me to fall in love with somebody. So, just acting like it, is really weird for me.

“It was nice meeting you both, but I’d better get back to my friends….” He carefully gets his footing and makes his way back to his table. Which, I realize, is right across from us, where he can still easily watch us…great.

“I hate reporters.” Devin gulps down some of his drink. Which is brown and in a tall glass. I suspect soda. Although I wouldn’t put it past him to get drunk, forcing me to drive him home because he knows I don’t support drinking and driving.
Evil bastard.

Since the reporter’s still watching, I snuggle in closer to him. From Devin’s shocked expression, I might’ve surprised him a wee bit. “Play along would you?” I hiss, wanting to deflect the reporter’s suspicions.

“What’re you doing?” he asks quietly, gazing down at me like I’ve grown wings. It’s not weird at all. I’m just practically sitting in my best friend’s lap.

“I told him you were my boyfriend.” It’s then I realize I didn’t directly say he was, but I did drag him into the booth and lace fingers with him.

“Damn, Gilmore, twice in one day? I’m starting to think you have the hots for me.” He gulps.

“I thought it was obvious.” I slowly run my fingers through his hair, letting my other hand trail down his chest to his stomach. Stopping right at the waistband of his pants, making his eyes glaze over. Seeing this reaction I can’t stop myself from kissing his neck. Once, twice…nibbling on his earlobe, he growls loudly. “Devin?”

“Yes?” he hisses.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” I yank his face close to mine.

He nods.

I barely let our lips touch when he grabs my hips and moves me on top of him where I’m straddling him. Under normal circumstances I would’ve yelped and punched him but we’re acting here.

Improv acting
, m
aybe I should be an actress….

He gazes up at me, like we’re the only two in the room. I try to mimic the façade, hard to do when the table’s digging into your back. Grinning like he’s won the lottery, he moves some hair behind my ear. Resisting the urge to bite his fingers, I smile back. Like this isn’t bothering me or making me feel like a slut at all.

I’m so happy…ha.

“I don’t think I’ve ever—” I cut him off by leaning down and kissing him like his life depended on it. Which it kinda did, if you take a peek at the bigger picture. For example…say reporter dude writes a story about us suspicious kids and the town’s people research further? Some of my friends aren’t the best at lying. Eventually, it’d come out, and we’d all be dead.

“If you say you love me, I’m really going to have to cut you,” I mumble against his lips.

“Thank you, Devlin,” he whispers back, digging his fingers into my hips. Instead of laughing like I want to, I kiss him again. Pushing my fingers through his soft hair, I hear him let out a soft moan which nearly makes me stop what I’m doing. Especially when he strengthens the kiss and pulls me tighter against him, letting me feel that he’s…
oh seriously dude?

Not exactly knowing where this is starting to go, I take his hand and tug him to his feet. As I move out onto the dance floor, he follows along easily enough. Finding a spot where people aren’t all up against us is nearly impossible, so I just stop in the middle and face him. Lacing my arms around his neck, I jerk his face down to mine once again.

His lips eagerly move against mine, and his hands aren’t too shy either once they find my hips. Trying to somewhat dance while making out and trying to make it all convincing isn’t the easiest thing in the world.

Coming up for air, he starts kissing on my neck, which is good. It gives me the opportunity to glance around for the reporter. I don’t see him right away, and fear rushes through me for the first time tonight.

Then I see him. He’d switched tables and is now talking with his friends, thankfully forgetting all about us.

Once I come back to our current predicament, I realize he’s grinding against me. My face heats, and I grab his hand and lead him in the other direction of the reporter. In a back hallway, I snatch my hand away and spin around. “You seriously got a woody?” I hiss.

“You’re a good kisser.” He shrugs, trying to hide his face. Knowing I’d see the pink tint to it.

“Thanks…I think?” I grumble, still inspecting him.
So are you
….

“Sir?” someone questions from behind us, making me jump about a foot in the air. Devin, on the other hand, stays composed.
Asshole.

“Yes?” he answers, not seeming surprised at all, but now I know I was right about him blushing.

“You’re needed in your office,” the man replies, and I gawk at Devin in confusion.
Sir? Your office? What is happening here?

“I’ll be there shortly,” he replies, and the man nods once and leaves us alone again.

“Care to enlighten me on what’s going on?” I cross my arms over my chest, only realizing I still have his coat on, when a puff of his cologne smacks me in the face.

“I will soon,” he promises, gently taking my arm and leading me down the hall. After a few doors, he opens one, revealing a spacious room. A few people are in there talking. “Can you manage not to get us into any more trouble in here?” he asks, signature smirk back in place. “Nice bra, by the way.”

I glower in reply.

<<<->>>

It’s been about thirty minutes since he left me alone in this weird room. I don’t like being around this much drinking. I think I’d much prefer the other room, where, if you move into the crowd, you’re going to be groped no matter what. The people in here seem stuck up, and there’s so much smoke.
That better only be cigarette smoke.

It might seem like I’m complaining, but, well I guess I am.

That crackhead needs to hurry up before I either witch out and make someone start convulsing or do it the traditional way and punch someone in the face. I have no idea why I’m so angry at the moment. And, for some reason, my mind keeps stalling on the feel of his lips. They felt so wonderful, and he tasted like spearmint, and it was the most magnificent thing to happen to me.

Har-har, kidding. It was weird and awkward to be so close to him. Plus his lips tasted funny. If he just drank blood and didn’t tell me before I tried to kiss his face off, then he is definitely getting a kick to the nuts.

As soon as I came fully into the room, I chose a spot way in the back, away from everybody. Because I think I’ve had my fair share of people for today. I would swear off people altogether, but then I might go nuts, and we don’t need a nuts witch out in Westera. That might get a little too crazy for the small-minded people there to comprehend.

“Hey there,” a guy in a bright-blue suit says before sitting down in the chair in front of me. Like I’m giving off the, “Please do come over here and attempt to flirt with me because I definitely won’t jump across this table and rip your throat out with my teeth” vibe.
Damn, where is this violence coming from?

“Sup,” I force out, holding back a gag.

“You seemed awfully lonely over here. Did your boyfriend leave you here all by yourself?” he asks, probably hoping to sound sympathetic. Instead it’s coming off as creepy as hell.

“He’s my brother,” I reply in an extremely bored tone, “My girlfriend’s supposed to meet me soon.”

“I know you’re lying. Mr. Gray doesn’t have any siblings,” he snaps, eyes narrowing.

“Long, lost cousin?” I attempt to give a sheepish smile of innocence. He scowls, and I sneer right back. Something is very, very wrong here. If I wasn’t blinded by his bright suit when he first sat down, I think I would’ve paid more attention to his eyes. They’re black—like a sharks—and blank, like he doesn’t even have a soul.

Warning bells ring, and I tighten my walls around me, like they’d actually protect me from a physical presence. My mom’s only been teaching me how to shield energies and “bad seeds,” as she calls them, meaning bad spirits. We get a lot of them, for some reason.

All I want is to get away from this creep.

“Maybe I should go lookin’ for him,” I chirp.

“I think you should sit,” he replies in a stern voice, and that is the exact reason I stand and glare daggers at him. Wishing his beard would catch fire. It doesn’t, of course. “Fine then, I see I’m making you uncomfortable.” He starts to stand.

Ya think? Ya dim nugget
.

“Actually….” He stops, spinning on his heel to face me again. With a nasty smirk on his face, that I want to punch off, but he might like it. “Can I tell you a joke? I’m doing a stand-up show tomorrow, and I want to see if it’s funny.”

“Sure,” I mumble. It can’t be any worse than his personality.
Damn that was mean
.

“Knock, knock?” he starts, smirk turning into an even nastier grin.

I exhale. “Who’s there?”

“Mr. Winkie,” he says and unzips his pants and starts to pull Mr. Winkie out, probably thinking so he can play with it. When, in reality, if it gets anywhere near me, it’s gonna get cut off and shoved down his blasted throat.

Just as I’m about to jump on him and beat him in the head, Devin’s there, grabbing him by the back of the neck. The creep freezes in place, where I guess he was still trying to find his Mr. Winkie.
Is it really that small?

“Have you been drinking again?” Devin asks calmly. I know he can easily get a whiff of his breath because I can smell it from over here.

“No,” the man snorts, taking a long slurp of his drink.

“Luke? Call a cab and make sure he gets in it,” he orders the guy who told him he was needed in his office.

“Yes, sir,” Luke replies, and hauls the drunken creep out of the room.

“Are you okay?” he asks me, running a hand through his hair.

“Sure.” I shrug.

“Damn, woman. I’m not gone more than an hour and you’ve already tried getting in someone else’s pants?” he asks with a hoarse cackle.

My fist connects with his face.

Someone gasps, and I realize what I did. “Oops, sorry,” I mumble, wincing. Of course it didn’t really hurt him. Hardly even knocked him back any, but I guess the people in the room don’t know it’s a bitch to even attempt to hurt a vamp.

“Sir, should I—” a woman starts with a disgusted sneer at me. But he holds up his hand and rubs his nose a little.

“It’s okay, Rose. Enjoy the time with your friends. She’s my girlfriend and I deserved that,” he reassures, resting his arm across my shoulders, pulling me against him.

“Heh.” I wiggle out from under his arm and everyone goes back to their business. I glance up at him to find he’s smiling down at me. “I really am sorry, ya know, no filter. Don’t think before I act.”

“Not a problem.”

“Devin—” I still feel horrible.

“Are you ready to go?” He cuts me off, and I nod once. I just want to go home and sleep this weird night off.

“And you still have explaining to do,” I remind him. He nods once. “But I really am—” he places a hand over my mouth as we go down the hallway, shutting me up.

<<<->>>

“Why do you always insist on doing this?” I grumble, letting him lead me along the pathway and up the steps to my house.

“Because I’m not a douche. Now stop complaining. And there’s a lot of weirdos out there.” Ever since he started driving me places, every time he’d bring me home he’d make sure to walk me to my door. Like the frog statue my mom has in our gardens gonna come to life and bite me or something.

“Whatever,” I grumble, trying to find my key. “Well, thanks…it was fun?”

“You need to work on your lying if you’re going to try and do it regularly.”

“I hate lying but yeah you caught me. I’ve had better nights.” I shove the key into the lock.

“Maybe we can hang out some other time, with fewer guys hounding you, I mean.”

“Maybe, but not tomorrow. I’ve got plans and what would we do anyway?” I glance back at him; he appears just as confused as I am. “Maybe we can stay in and watch some movies?”

“Sounds cool.”

“Okay then, well night. See you later.” I smile and go into the house.

“Night, jailbait,” he calls after me.

I flip him off.

~ It Moved ~

Sep. 21
^st

I didn’t sleep the greatest last night. I kept waking up, and I don’t know why. Maybe it was because my brain wanted to think about Devin. Or because there’s something stinky in my room and I cannot find where, or what, it is for that matter.