Blood Orange Soda: Paranormal Romance (32 page)

I reach into the box, grab another bottle, and open it for a much-needed refuel. “Bao and his gang will crash this party any minute. No fighting here at Shelby’s house. We’ll meet them at the train bridge.”

Alex leans against a tree and Marcus stumbles over a log, laughing as if he’s drunk. They drank their Sodas way too fast.

“Looks as if Marcus is three shits to the wind,” Tandi says with a dazed smile.

“Three shits? Ohmygod!” Marcus howls.

Weezer gulps his bottle. He looks wild-eyed, yet in control of his senses. Angel, however, seems unusually quiet.

“You okay, Angel?” I ask. “How are you feeling?”

“Relaxed…chill,” she says with a contented smile.

I hear somebody rushing through the brush and I see the silhouette of an Emo from the Vampire Club against the bright DJ lights. “Bao’s here!”

“Damn, I need one more,” Marcus says, wild-eyed, stumbling to the box. He hands another bottle to Alex.

“Drink slowly,” I caution them.

“Angel, Weezer, can you think clearly enough to play another set?” I ask.

They both nod, with dazed grins. He finishes his bottle and she does, too, before they follow me out of the woods, back to the party. We walk over to the stage. Angel and Weezer are both buzzing with Soda.

Hoping we can play music, I take the stage and have a clear view of the yard, over the heads of all the students and parents. Bao, Chao, and three other gang members are standing in the back. They’re dressed in baggy jeans and hooded starter jackets. They’re searching the crowd for somebody, probably me.

I step up to the microphone and look out at the eclectic mix of students from both high schools—Cheerleaders, Jocks, Stoners, Theater Freaks, Gamer Geeks—you name it. And I see Shelby standing next to Cameron, watching me. I’m frustrated and pissed at her, so I change our set list.

“This song is by Nirvana,” I say. “It’s called ‘Love Buzz’.”

I begin playing the driving bass line opening of the song, and Weezer joins in with raw guitar. He’s so hopped up on Soda he starts spitting into the crowd, like a total anarchist Punk Rocker! He’s wildly carefree, and so am I.

This ignites shoving and body slamming in the crowd while Weezer and Angel play their parts flawlessly, as if the Soda has unleashed buried talents. They seem less inhibited in their playing.

Bao and Chao spot me onstage. They wade through the crowd with their gang buddies following them and we play on, from the safety of the stage. By the time we start our third song of the set, Bao and his gang are standing close to the front; but now Alex, Marcus, and Tandi are positioned on the grass right in front of the stage as if they’re our bodyguards. While they’re not physically big, the Soda has given them enough confidence that they push kids away from the stage whenever necessary.

As we play, I look beyond the crowd and notice Jack, Helen, and Jonathan seated at a table with my mom. I’m curious how it’s going over there, while I’m keeping an eye on Bao. The night is slipping away so we cut the set short, and I run over to my mom’s table.

Jonathan stands and shakes my hand. “Great music, Darius.”

“Thanks; you want more food?” I ask, to get him away from here so we can talk privately.

We walk over to where the caterer is serving the roast beef and shrimp. I pile food onto my plate while Jonathan only adds a handful of chips to his. I’m not sure how to dive into the topic, so I take a roundabout approach.

“Was my mom surprised?”

“Definitely, and we’ve enjoyed talking about the old days.”

“What does Helen think of you flying all the way here to see an old girlfriend?”

“Oh, she’s fine,” he says.

“She knows you’re my mom’s First Bitten?”

He’s quiet for a second, and pops a chip into his mouth. “You know about that?”

“Not until recently,” I say. “When I stopped taking the Reds, my mom and I had ‘the talk’ about biting. You were her example.”

“Oh, I see—”

“Did you love her?” My curiosity comes out way too fast and desperate.

He looks back at my mom. “Yes, of course.”

“Do you still love her?” I ask.

“Darius, that was a long time ago,” Jonathan says. “I got married, had two children, and later divorced.”

“But if you loved her once, you could love her again, right? You’re her First Bitten.”

“I’m on the Reds; I’m a Normal.” Jonathan looks around the party and back at me. “Is that why you invited me here? To bring your mom and me back together?”

Now I’m feeling foolish. It all sounds so dumb, and I haven’t even asked him the harder question:
Would you give up your life as a Normal to save my mom’s life?

“Is it so stupid that if you loved her once, you could love her again? Sure, you have a girlfriend, but if you could have my mom—”

“Darius, Helen isn’t just my girlfriend; she’s the mother of my children.”

I’m confused. “You said you were divorced.”

“Correct, we divorced three years ago. Recently we’ve been spending time together,” Jonathan says. “We’re working on our relationship.”

I’m happy for him and his family. I know what it’s like to live in a broken home, and it sucks. But I’m speechless, and he can tell that I’m holding back my emotions.

“Darius, I loved your mother a long time ago, but life went on.”

“You’re her First Bitten,” I remind him. “Somewhere inside, you love my mom. You could love her—”

“And if I could fall in love again it would be with my wife, Helen, so we can bring our family back together. I hope you understand,” he says.

There’s no sense in begging Jonathan. I gambled by inviting him here, and I lost. “Yeah, I totally get it. I shouldn’t have assumed you’d fall in love again, transform into a Vampire and bite her to save her life.”

Jonathan sets his plate of food on a table and slides his hands in his pockets. “Oh, wow, that’s what this is about? You want me to become a Vampire and—”

“Yeah, dumb, I know. I wasn’t sure how to ask you over the phone.”

“I don’t think it would be right for me to do that,” Jonathan says, looking back at Helen. “I’m sorry, Darius.”

“Me, too…”

“I’m still glad you contacted me. While your mom is very ill, there might be a way to help her.”

“We’ve tried everything, even blood transfusions. She’s near the end.”

“There are innovative treatments for V2 these days,” Jonathan says. “Northwestern University in Chicago has made great strides in fighting this disease.”

He talks at length about all the research done on HIV2 and the advancements medical science has made over the past five years. It all sounds too technical, and too late.

“We can’t afford it,” I say. “We can barely pay the bills we have.”

“Most of these are research studies that wouldn’t cost your family any money,” Jonathan says. “Sometimes they even pay the patients for their participation. I’ve already mentioned this to your mother tonight, and she seems interested.”

I look back at her speaking with Helen and Jack. “Really? She said she’d go through with the treatments?”

“Yes, she’s intrigued enough that she wants to know more. I’ll send you the information.”

We shake hands. Maybe Jonathan’s presence here has given my mom renewed hope. “Thanks so much for your help.”

“Thank you for inviting me to this special event,” he says. “I care for your mother very much.”

Weezer and Angel approach to my left. They look anxious, as if they’re waiting for me to finish my conversation.

“One more question,” I say. “Do you regret my mom’s bite?”

“Absolutely not,” Jonathan says. “Everything happens for a reason.”

I shake his hand again and walk over to Weezer and Angel, thinking those words—
Everything happens for a reason
. That might be true for other people, but my own life is far more random. I don’t see the connections between the dots, and nothing seems to be for a higher purpose.

“Well? What did Jonathan say?” Angel asks me. “Will he do it?”

“No,” I reply. “He wants us to try some experimental treatments.”

She reaches out and holds my hand. This is the first affection she’s shown me since our kiss. “I’m sorry, Darius.”

“Witching hour is upon us,” Weezer says.

“Mr. Rork kicked Bao and his gang off his property,” Angel explains to me. “If we don’t meet Bao at the bridge soon, he’ll probably come back.”

“Round up Alex, Marcus, and Tandi. I’ll say goodnight to some of the guests. I’ll meet you in the driveway in five minutes,” I say to Angel.

At my mom’s table she stands to give me a long hug. She feels smaller and fragile in my embrace. There are so many things I want to say to her. I want to encourage her to fight the disease. I want her to be as excited about the future as I am. Is that really fair of me? Am I just being selfish?

Mom steps back. She removes a strand of hair from my eye. “You’re beautiful, honey. I’m very proud of you.”

“Thanks, the party was really Shelby’s idea.”

“I’m proud of how you cared enough to find Jonathan.”

“At least now you know what happened to your First Bitten.”

“That was very sweet of you,” she says.

I give my mom a kiss on the cheek and she’s happy again. She’s so distracted by the party that I think she’s totally forgotten about the fight, but then she surprises me.

“Take care of yourself. Let’s hope this brings an end to it,” she says, as Jack and Kira join her. “Jack says you’re ready.”

“Thanks, Mom,” I say. Now I’m feeling more nervous.

“Fight fair,” Jack says.

“I’ll call or text you when it’s over.”

“Good luck, Darius,” Kira says, hugging me tightly. “Remember, you’re a Vampire!”

“Thanks, Kira. Take Mom home and make sure she gets some rest,” I say as I walk away, looking for Shelby.

Whatever mayhem Bao created while I was talking to Jonathan, it’s now quieter at the party. Most of the students are either gone, or walking to their cars and trucks. I see Shelby picking up chairs by an overturned table.

“What happened?” I ask her.

“Bao’s a moron,” she says. “He pushed Alex and Marcus around. Knocked over this table, spilled drinks on the guests.”

I help her pick up the chairs, the table, and other debris.

“Alex and Marcus were high on Soda,” Shelby says. “Did you bring Soda to
my
party?”

“
Our
party,” I correct her. “I figured one bottle would relax my crew.”

“Why would you bring Soda here? Look what you’ve done!” She picks up plastic cups off the lawn.

“I wanted to make sure their buzz had faded before the fight,” I explain.

“You shouldn’t have given them
any
Soda,” Shelby says, with tears and frustration. “My dad is furious. Go, leave before he sees you.”

“Shelby, let me apologize to your dad.”

Her phone chimes. She pulls it out of her pocket and reads a text before holding it to show me. “Everyone’s at the bridge, waiting for you.”

“Sorry about what I said earlier, the whole biting thing.” I wait for her to accept my apology; instead, she continues picking up plastic cups off the lawn. “You coming with me?”

She sighs and rolls her eyes. “I can’t, Darius. I still have guests here.”

I look up at the deck, at the silhouettes of family and friends mingling. Cameron is talking to her dad. I leave Shelby without even a hug and I look back, in case she has changed her mind; but she’s not coming to the fight. Our short-lived romance is probably over. As quickly and easily as I fell for this girl, I’m also realizing we’re not right for each other.

I run up to the front of her house where Angel and Weezer are waiting in the car. I climb in the back seat and it’s just us three again, just like the good old days.

Angel drives her dad’s old Chevy Corsica like a bat out of proverbial hell away from Shelby’s neighborhood. I’m sitting in the back seat alone, remembering seventh-grade make-out sessions on this very seat while the car was parked in her parents’ garage. We hit the highway as Weezer rolls down his window and lights one of his clove cigarettes. He then plugs his phone into the stereo and plays a White Stripes song, “Seven Nation Army.” It’s a perfect choice, and I’m feeling adrenalin flowing through my veins.

“Smoke? Anyone?” Weezer says, handing me his cigarette.

I take a puff and feel the cool herbs soaking into my lungs and hand it back to him, but Angel reaches for the cigarette instead. She’s nervous, he’s nervous and I’m panic-stricken. The only thing that keeps me from leaping out the car window is the sheer speed at which Angel is driving. When she exits the highway and turns onto a gravel road, we’re not far from the train bridge. Tips of the pine trees are flashing by my window, illuminated by the moon. Angel steals glances at me through her rear view mirror as she drives.

The train bridge spans a dirt road that connects two cornfields. The bridge is a cement tunnel with railroad tracks above it. The tunnel walls are coated with graffiti from years of tagging, and tonight the taggers are spraying new art on the walls as we pull up. There must be fifty kids here already, drinking and smoking. Some are in the tunnel, standing out of the wind by a fire to keep warm, and others have already found a place to sit up on the tracks.

Angel parks along the edge of the corn behind a long row of cars and trucks. We step out of the car in a cloud of clove smoke, into the cool evening air, and there’s a bright, full moon in the sky, casting shadows through the nearby pines. I recognize Bao and Chao’s silhouettes along the trees, and they’re in front of three AsianFusion gang members.

Where’s my crew? They’re standing by the fire, warming their hands.

A girl screams from the tracks, “Gladiator!”

Roaring cheers stir a flutter in my stomach. If it’s nerves, I hope they’re bats and not butterflies. At least the crowd is on my side; too bad I have to disappoint them tonight. I give them my signature wave, and they cheer again. I notice the glow of cell phones and I remember they’re recording this fight and broadcasting from St. Cloud, Minnesota, to Beijing, China, and anywhere street fight videos are appreciated.