Blood Type (15 page)

“I don’t know.
Maybe.
Well, we’ve gone out a couple of times. He’s pretty cool. I really like him.”

“
Okay.
So what about the vampire?”
Olivia said, getting at once to the heart of the matter.

“I’m just being crazy,” I said, realizing how even more absurd I sounded when admitting it out loud to someone else.

“You think?” Olivia said, not about to argue.

“I don’t know. I had this nightmare that Ian was a vampire, and then I started remembering all of these weird things he said.”

“Elaborate.”

It
felt like the inside of a pressure cooker under the covers
. I came out of hiding and switched on the bedside lamp. The clock on my desk said it was nearly four in the morning.
Then I
told Olivia about the red wine at the concert and
Ian
not eating food at the restaurant
, as well as
his non-biased opinion regarding his partner’s sexual orientation as long as their blood ran hot.
Stuff like that.

Olivia laughed. “That hardly makes him a vampire, Blake. All it means is he’s bisexual.” And then she laughed again. “But if he’s a vampire, what does that make John?”

“What?” I said stupidly, not understanding her train of thought.

“Well, isn’t it logical to assume that John
might
be one, too?”

“Is it? It didn’t
even
occur to me.
” 

“It might explain why he keeps to himself
so much
at school. Do you even know much of anything about
either of
their backgrounds?”

“Uh,” I said, which pretty much answered the question. All I knew was that
John had
been orphaned and then adopted into some family. I swallowed hard, wondering who that family might be
.

“You’re making fun of me, aren’
t you?
You don’t really believe that Ian or John is a vampire.”

 
O
livia laughed, too. “Go back to sleep you big idiot. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

A
fter tossing and turning for a miserable hour, I fell into yet another uneasy dream. It started out pleasant enough, with John and me doing things my parents would absolutely disapprove of if I were ever caught doing them in my waking life. But somewhere along the way, the dream took a rather alarming turn for the worse, ending with John the Vampire sinking his teeth into my jugular.

And the most upsetting part was that I liked it.

After that I slept soundly with no recollection of dreaming at all, waking later that morning to a light, repetitive tapping.

Tap, tap,
tap
.

Tap, tap,
tap
.

It took me a few minutes to climb fully out of the depths of a deep sleep. I struggled to a sitting position and rubbed my bleary eyes, thinking I’d only imagined the sound.

Tap, tap,
tap
.

I looked in the direction of the balcony doors where the sound
had come
from
and startled at the sight of John peering in.
Immediately
I recalled the dream and conversation I’d had with Olivia
. Nevertheless
, I got out of bed to let him in.

“You’re a late sleeper,” he said, coming inside and closing the door behind him.

I shoved my arms into my robe and then twisted my hair up in a messy knot. “Not usually,” I said, scanning the room for my slippers. “I just had a really awful night’s sleep. How’d you climb up there anyway?”

“I’m talented,” he said. “I thought I told you to dream of me. Was it really that bad?” I could hear the grin in his voice, even as I was on my hands and knees groping under my bed for my slippers.

“Looking for these?” I looked up to see my slippers dangling on the pointer fingers of his outstretched hands. 
“They were under your desk.”

I snatched them and shoved my feet inside, snorting in amusement. “I did dream of you.”

He laughed. “
What,
was I a horrible kisser or something?”

A
slow blush cre
pt
up my neck and into my cheeks, and I hastily turned away and began pulling up the covers of my bed, just so I’d have an excuse not to look at him. 

John came up from behind and put his arms around me. “Tell me.”

“You’re a great kisser, in my dreams and out of them.” The words escaped my lips before I even realized what I was saying, and I clamped my hand over my mouth. I wiggled out of John’s grasp, absolutely mortified.

But John only laughed. “If I was such a great kisser, then what was the problem? Why couldn’t you sleep?”

I shook my head. “Uh-uh. I’m not saying anything more. I’ve already emb
arrassed myself enough as it is, and I don’t want you thinking I’m some idiot.
”

“You don’t have to be embarras
sed in front of me,” John said. “And I could never think you’re an idiot.”

I went to my dresser drawers and began pulling out clean clothes for the day. I needed to take a shower, but I didn’t know what to do with John. Both my parents were at work, and I wasn’t sure what the proper protocol was for showering with a guy in the house while your mom and dad weren’t home. Making sure to lock the door was a start; asking him to leave and come back later was probably better.

“I need to get cleaned up. You can
wait downstairs
.”

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re deliberately hiding something from me?”

I laughed.
“Because I am.
It’s nothing, though. It’s . . . stupid.”

“I doubt it’s stupid. I want to know, Blake.” He grabbed my hand and held me in place. “Tell me what you dreamed.”

“I dreamed you were a vampire.”

John’s eyes widened and he let go of my hand. At first his face was
nothing more than
a blank canvas, but then the corner of his mouth pulled up into a half grin. At least he had the decency not to laugh.

I rolled my eyes and walked away, heading for the bathroom. “See?” I said, calling over my shoulder. “I told you it was stupid.”

I found John at the kitchen table with a bowl of strawberries in front of him, the discarded hulls of a few pushed off to the side. He plucked one from the bowl, held it in front of his face for examination, and then expertly removed the top half with a paring knife. He plopped the remainder in his mouth and carefully chose another from the bowl, repeating the process.

“I’m fixing cereal for myself,” I said. “Will you have some?” He turned around in his seat at the sound of my voice, and I felt his eyes on me as I rummaged through the cupboards for a bowl and box of Corn Flakes.

“I’m good. Thanks.”

“Slice me a few of those?” I took my supplies to the table and went to the fridge for the milk.

“Can I make you some eggs or a ham sandwich?” I called from across the room. I tried telling myself that if John was a vampire, he wouldn’t be eating strawberries. And yet strawberries were the only thing I’d ever seen him actually eat, which was definitely strange.

“Really, I’m not that hungry. I ate before I came over.”

“Of course you did,” I muttered under my breath. “Well, we’ve got ice cream in the freezer. It’s cookies ‘n cream.” I craned
my head over my shoulder and smiled. “There’s
always
room for ice cream.”

He laughed.
“No, thanks.
In fact, I’m done with these.” He pushed the bowl of strawberries
aside,
minus the two he’d already sliced for my cereal
and artfully
fanned out on a napkin. He brushed the discarded hulls into his hand and got up to put them in the garbage.

“So what’s Ian up to today?” I said, settling into a chair and pouring my bowl full of cereal.

“Recovering from last night.
He
apparently
snuck out after I went to bed and didn’t get in until this morning.”

“And that upsets you?” I said, seeing the concerned expression on his face.

“Very.”

We were quiet as I ate my cereal
.
John took the liberty of washing not only the paring knife, but the rest of the dirty dishes in the sink. He didn’t seem to mind the silence, and neither did I. But after a few moments, during which I was trying unsuccessfully not to think about my dream in between bites, John turned around.

“So tell me more about this dream of yours,” he said, drying his hands on a dish towel. The way he said it, with deliberate casualness, made me pause mid chew.

I shrugged my shoulders. “I already told you. I dreamed you were a vampire. It was silly.”

He sat
down
across from me at the table. “Why would you dream something like that?”

I
shook my head
. “It’s a long story.”

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, smiling. “I’ve got time.”

I scooped up the last of my cereal and drained the milk, not wanting to humiliate myself with the embarrassing details of my dream, but realizing John
wouldn’t
give up until I told him.

“All right.
Well, first I dreamed I was in this garden. There was this flower—a thistle—and I was about to pick it and toss it aside when you yelled at me not to touch it. And then when I turned around, Ian was there.”

“Ian?”

A shiver ran up my spine at the memory of his wide mouth and sharp teeth, and I rubbed my hands over my
bare
arms, as though to ward off a chill.
“Yeah.
He smiled, but it was, like, this really creepy kind of
smile. And he had pointy fangs. Like this.” I held up my pointer fingers on either side of my mouth to illustrate what I’d just described.

“Like a vampire,” John supplied helpfully, smiling even wider.

I nodded. “He lunged at me, and that’s when I woke up. Of course I was completely freaked out by then so I called Olivia—we made up by the way—and one thing led to another, and she suggested that if Ian is a vampire, you might be one, too.”

“And that’s why you dreamed
I
was one,” he said. It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact.
“Because Olivia put the idea in your head.”

“Yes.”

John looked down at the table and traced a line of grain in the wood with the tip of his thumb, momentarily quiet with his thoughts. “So what
on Earth
made you dream that Ian is a vampire?”

I laughed. “God only knows.”

“No, really,” John said, not bothering to look up at me.
“There has to be a reason.”

I took my dishes to the sink where I dumped them into the soapy water before turning to face John again. I’d deliberately left out the part about my conversation with Olivia, as well as my own private thoughts, explaining why I thought Ian could be a vampire. If vampires existed, that was.
Which I didn’t think they did.

I’d left my hair to air dry, and I twisted the damp, curly mass over my shoulder before coiling it like a snake at the crown of my head. I plucked a stray pencil off the counter and stuck it through the heart of the knot to hold it in place.

“Why are you so interested?” I said at last. “It was just a dream.”

John shrugged and linked his hands behind his head. His face was a mask of indifference. “Just curious is all.”

“Well, I think it started with that whole stupid comment Ian made about the kind of people he, um, you know . . .” I let my voice trail off, hoping he would fill in the blanks.

He paddle-wheeled his hand when I refused to go on. “No, I don’t know. What?”

“The kind of people he chooses to, um . . . date?”

John smiled, a leering sort of grin in which he showed an entire mouthful of very white teeth.
And none of them pointy.
“You mean the kind of people he has sex with?”

M
y cheeks flush
ed
with warmth and
I
cleared my throat. “Yes. Those are the kind of people I mean.”

“Okay.
So what about them?”

I splayed my hands, not entirely comfortable discussing one guy’s (who I barely knew) sex life, with another guy I knew only slightly better. “Well, if I recall, he said he wasn’t picky as long as they are warm-blooded. Or something like that,” I added in a rush.

John threw his head back and laughed. “And from that you managed to turn Ian into a vampire. Man, he is going to love that.”