Crave (18 page)

And after five long months, I was sick and tired of having to avoid eye contact with people. Especially Greg, who knew so much about me, yet I still couldn't seem to really connect with him. Compared to Greg, I felt closer to Tristan, whom I still hadn't had a conversation with in years outside of that one dream. And I knew why. It was because of my stupid eyes. I'd made eye contact with Tristan lots of times before I'd gotten sick last year. I couldn't remember ever meeting Greg's. I wanted to be truly normal again. Surely it was safe to stop staring at people's noses and try making eye contact with Greg to start with. Then if nothing bad happened…who knew? Maybe it would be proof that I was taking after the Clann side of the family instead.

Better to be a witch than a vampire.

My gaze inched up to Greg's mouth. Then his nose. Could I really do this? My hands shook, so I gripped the folds of his shirt at the small of his back.

And then I looked at him.
Really
looked at him, making direct eye contact with soft brown eyes I'd grown to care about but only dared to sneak indirect peeks at till now. I felt the zing from the connection our gazes made, and held my breath.

Greg stumbled and stopped dancing. But he didn't let go of me.

“What?” I whispered. Should I look away now? No, I'd wait a few seconds longer. It was so nice, maybe too nice, to make eye contact with someone again. And yet incredibly intimate, as if I were baring my soul to him. As if he'd be able to see everything I felt. And didn't feel.

“You've never looked at me like this before. Not since we first met,” he murmured, his voice husky. His eyebrows drew together into a frown.

“I can stop if you like.”

He gave a slow shake of his head, never breaking our stare. His arms held me tighter. “No, don't. I like it. You should do it more often.”

He wasn't freaked out. Relief escaped me in a shaky laugh. “Okay.”

“Wow, you're beautiful. I feel like the luckiest guy here.”

“And you're sweet.”

He sighed without smiling, a rarity for him. “I'd rather you said something else.”

“Such as?” I teased.

“Oh, like whether you think I'm good-looking or insanely hot. Things like that.” And still he didn't smile.

“Okay. You're the hottest guy here. Better?”

“Much. Savannah, have I told you lately that I love you?”

I grinned. “Isn't that a song from the nineties or something?” I expected him to laugh. He was rarely serious. At the moment, he was working on a record for the longest I'd seen him go without smiling. On second thought, he'd already broken that record.

He frowned at me. “I'm being serious.”

“Uh, yeah. And it's a little strange for you.”

“So you don't like me unless I'm smiling and joking around all the time?”

“Umm…I like you to be yourself, remember?”

“Okay, then. Right now I feel like being serious. And I'm telling you that I love you.”

Whoa. That sure sounded serious. Was I supposed to say it back, or could I have some time to think about this leap in our relationship?

“Will you wear my senior ring?” He took it off and held it out.

“Wow.” Hesitating for a moment, I finally nodded and let him slide the heavy ring onto my right ring finger. But the cold chunk of metal felt all wrong. Maybe because I'd imagined this happening with someone else.

His hand cupped the back of my head as he ducked his head to kiss me. But Mrs. Daniels had a strict team policy against public displays of affection at any team or school function. Kissing at this dance was definitely PDA. I leaned away from him.

“Savannah, it's traditional for a couple to kiss after they say I love you.” Greg almost sounded angry. I must have bruised his ego. Probably not a good time to point out that I had, in fact, not yet repeated those three little words back to him.

“I know. But Charmers can't have public displays of affection at team or school events,” I explained, nervous for the first time in months with him. “I'll get into trouble. It makes the team look bad.”

He scowled, his eyes darkening to the color of bittersweet chocolate. “That's a stupid rule.”

Actually, I'd always thought it was a good one. But Greg's expression was angry enough as it was; I didn't want to add fuel to the fire by arguing with him. So I didn't reply.

“Maybe you should quit.”

My mouth dropped open. Had he really just said that? He knew more than anyone how much I loved being a Charmers manager. I glanced around to see if anyone had overheard him, but everyone seemed lost in their own worlds.

Thankfully the song ended, and so did the dance itself. Time for me to help the other Charmers and cheerleaders clean up. “I have to go. See you in a little while?” He'd driven
me to the dance. But if he was too mad, I could grab a ride home with one of the Charmers instead.

He gave a terse nod and stalked off.

Wow. Were all boys this weird when they gave a girl their senior ring? I watched him go for a minute, then shook my head and waded through the exiting crowd toward the concession stand.

By the time the team finished cleaning up the building an hour later, Greg's strange mood still hadn't changed. We drove to my house in silence. I was too tired to think of anything to talk about, and apparently he was still mad about the PDA rule. At my house, he walked me to my front porch.

“Hey, you're not wearing my ring,” he said.

Blushing, I searched the pockets of my denim jacket. Wait, this jacket didn't have any pockets. Then I remembered. “Oh, yeah, I put it on my necklace while I was cleaning. It's kind of big for my fingers and I was scared I would lose it.” I lifted the chain out of my shirt.

He touched his ring where it lay along with my gold locket on my chest at the top of my cleavage, his knuckles grazing my skin. The intimacy of his touch made me uncomfortable, but I held still for now, waiting to see what he would do. After a long moment, he nodded. “I like it there. Lets everyone see that you're my girl.”

I lifted my face for our usual light kiss goodbye, more than ready to end the night, only to find myself trapped within the coil of his arms. His tongue stroked across my lips, making me gasp. We'd never kissed like that. He seemed to take my gasp as an invitation; his tongue slipped inside my mouth then aimed for my throat. He moaned as his hands rubbed my back.

This
was supposed to cause all those fireworks and stars I'd read about?

“Savannah,” Greg whispered against my lips before he trailed kisses over my cheek and down the side of my neck.

Whoa, too much. I leaned back and tried to ease out of his arms. “Uh, okay, down, boy.” I forced a laugh.

He stared at me with intense eyes, his breaths coming out fast and harsh. “I love you, Savannah. When you look at me like that, you make me feel things I've never felt before.”

“Uh…” Realizing I was making direct eye contact with him again, I jerked my gaze away. Too much of a good thing there apparently. I'd have to limit his exposure to my gaze again. Thankfully today was a Saturday. He'd recover overnight like those algebra boys had, and be back to normal by Monday. Maybe I should try smaller doses of the direct gaze on him in the future, let him build up a tolerance to it.

“See you Monday.” I pasted on a smile as I slipped out of his arms.

But he held on to my hand, stopping me from escaping into the house. “Hey, let's go out tomorrow.”

“On a Sunday?” Sundays were strictly for church and family at his house.

But he didn't even hesitate. “Sure. We could go on a picnic.”

No way would the gaze-daze effect wear off if he saw me again tomorrow. He needed space and time away from me so he could recover. “Um, I'm sorry, Greg, but I've got stuff to do with my grandma tomorrow.” I'd find something to do with Nanna so it wouldn't be a lie. “But I'll see you on Monday, okay?”

“Okay. See you then, Savannah.” He stood there staring at me.

Okaaay. I went inside the house with a sigh. Apparently it still wasn't a great idea to make eye contact with a male. Even a really nice one.

Savannah

Unfortunately, Greg was anything but back to normal by lunchtime on Monday when I joined him and his friends at their table.

“You ready to go grab some lunch?” Greg said, already getting up from his chair, not a smile in sight on his face.

Feeling nauseous, I shook my head. I was anything but hungry today.

He frowned, his eyes growing even darker and more intense. “You really need to eat, Savannah. I'll get you something.” He took off at a jog for the food line.

“Hey, guys, does Greg seem different today?” I asked his friends.

“Now that you mention it, yeah,” Mark said before taking a large bite of his nachos. “I think it's cuz he's in
l-o-v-e.
”

“Dude,” Peter punched his arm. “You're not supposed to reveal a dude's secrets like that, man.”

I gave a half smile. “It's okay, he already said the big three words at the homecoming dance this weekend.”

Peter looked relieved. “Figures. The guy's been talking about you nonstop ever since.”

“Is that…normal for him?”

“No. Not that he hasn't talked about you before. But this is something else. The dude woke me up at two in the morning after the dance, calling me to rave on and on about your eyes.”

My eyes. Cringing, I stared down at my hands in my lap.
What have I done?

“Ah, don't worry about it, Sav,” Mark said. “He'll come to his senses. All us guys do.”

“Here you go.” Greg returned and set an overloaded tray in front of me. “I didn't know what you'd want, so I got one of everything.”

He wasn't kidding. He'd bought enough food to create a mini mountain on the table. A short laugh of disbelief burst out of me. This could not be happening. “Uh, thanks, Greg. But I'm really not hungry.”

“Are the Charmers teaching you not to eat or something?” He held up a piece of pizza and shoved it against my lips. “Here, just eat a little. You're too skinny anyways.”

A glance around the table showed two male reflections of what I was feeling.

“Greg, I'm not hungry,” I insisted, leaning away from the pizza. “Drop it please, or I'll have to go sit with the girls today.”

“Yeah, man, lay off her already,” Peter said.

“Back off,” Greg growled at his best friend. “I know how to look out for my own girlfriend.”

Judging from Peter's stunned expression, Greg had never spoken to either of his friends like that. He had to be acting this way because of me. I had to do something before this situation got any worse.

I stood up. “Sorry, guys. But this is getting out of hand.”

“See ya, Sav,” Mark said. Peter just looked embarrassed.

“Don't call her that,” Greg muttered. “Only her friends and I call her Sav.”

I gasped. “Greg, I can't believe you're being so rude. Peter and Mark are my friends, too, now. I don't know what your problem is with them today, but if it's because of me, you need to stop it.” I nodded at Peter and Mark. “See you guys later.” I turned to walk away.

But Greg grabbed my wrist. “Where are you going?”

I gazed down at his nose, studying his eyes with my peripheral vision. What I found there made me want to dig a hole to hide in. He looked…possessed, just like those boys outside the math building five months ago. As if he'd like to drag me down a very dark and private alley, whether I wanted to go with him or not.

“Uh-uh, not cool, man,” Peter muttered.

I made my voice as steady as I could. “Until you can cool off and apologize to your friends, I'll be sitting with the girls.” I looked down at his hand clamped on my wrist and tried not to think about the pain radiating out from his grip. “Let go of me, Greg.”

He hesitated, and my fingers started to go numb from the lack of blood flow past his grip. What would I do if he refused? If I made a scene today, and then he went back to being his normally sweet self tomorrow…

Finally he let go.

The blood rushed back to my fingers. But I couldn't manage to breathe yet. He might change his mind. I tried to keep my pace slow and steady as I walked away on shaking legs, my sense of hearing in overdrive, my shoulders hunched with worry that he'd try to follow me across the cafeteria. The forty yards between his table and mine had never seemed so long before. I think I managed a normal pace. Yet all I wanted
to do was run, to get out of that cafeteria with all those people watching and keep going until I was off the campus and safe. Safe from Greg, my own boyfriend.

Just three days ago, Greg and I had walked over to my table together, laughing and looking forward to the homecoming dance. Tears burned my eyes and threatened to spill over by the time I reached my friends.

“Sav? What's up?” Michelle asked. “I thought today was Monday.”

“It is.” Carrie's gaze was too observant for comfort today. I avoided looking in her direction.

“What'd he do?” Anne snapped, half rising from her seat while tightening her ponytail as if in preparation for a battle.

I sank down into my chair. “Don't—don't worry about it. He's just being…weird today. He and his buddies started to argue with each other, and I didn't want to listen to it.” I was shaking all over. My voice didn't sound right even to my own ears. Taking a deep breath, I held it before slowly letting it out. Forcing a smile, I glanced around the table without actually seeing anything. “So, Michelle, fill me in. What gossip did I miss this weekend?”

Michelle launched into a story long enough to take up the rest of the lunch period. Carrie and Anne let her talk uninterrupted, a feat unheard of in the history of our group friendship. But I didn't hear a word of it.

I kept listening for Greg's approach, dreading the familiar squeak of his sneakers.
What am I going to do?
My wrist continued to throb where he'd grabbed it. I snuck a peek at it beneath the table then wished I hadn't. The skin was already starting to turn blue with bruises in the distinct shapes of his fingers. I pulled my sleeve down to hide my wrist. Somehow, seeing the physical proof of the change in him made it worse, made it too real to pretend away. I could feel myself
shuddering, like a rickety old car barely staying together. But I
had
to hold it together. I still had two more classes plus Charmers practice to get through.

And then, as the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch period, I remembered. Even on days when we didn't sit together, Greg always walked me out of the cafeteria and up to the catwalk. Oh, Lord.

“Anne, can you walk with me a little today? At least to the catwalk?” The words tumbled out so fast I wondered how she even understood me.

She scowled but nodded. After Carrie and Michelle left with raised eyebrows, Anne and I followed. I refused to look over at Greg's table. I did not want to give my possessed boyfriend any encouragement to join us.

As soon as we exited the cafeteria, Anne stopped me. “All right, what really happened?”

“I… Nothing. It's fine, don't worry about it. Things will settle down soon.” I chewed the inner corner of my lips, using the physical twinge of pain to distract me from my fears.

“Uh-huh. I see you're wearing his ring now.”

My hand darted up to my necklace. Oh, yeah. I tucked the ring and chain inside my shirt. I couldn't look at her as we walked up the steps to the catwalk. I peeked behind me, but he was nowhere in sight. “Okay, thanks for walking with me. See you tomorrow.”

“Promise you'll call if you need me?”

I nodded, the lump in my throat keeping me from speaking as I hurried off to class.

But I might as well have skipped history today for all that I heard in there. The only thing I could focus on was Greg's ring. I couldn't stand the feel of it against my skin, so I took it out of my shirt. And remembered how easily he'd held me captive outside my house after the homecoming dance.

He'll snap out of it,
I tried to reassure myself.
This is Greg, after all.

Not anymore. Only one direct look from my eyes, and I'd turned him into someone else. Something else.

A little more time, more space, it'll be fine,
I thought again, needing to believe it, to believe that I still had it all under control. That this would turn out to be just a bad memory soon. Because this could not be a permanent change I'd created. If it was…

If this was a permanent change, it would be all my fault.

Deep down, though, I knew this was already my fault. Even if the effect eventually wore off and Greg went back to his normal, sweet self, I wasn't sure I could ever forget feeling like this. Even those boys from algebra last year hadn't actually touched me, and they'd been scary enough without the physical contact. I had the proof on my wrist today to show just how far Greg had been willing to go in a crowded cafeteria. What might he have done if we'd been somewhere alone together?

Would I ever be able to go on a date with him again without some part of me being afraid?

 

At the end of the day, I found a note from Greg in my locker, full of rambling apologies and promises that he wouldn't be rude to me or his friends like that again. I read the letter then folded it up and put it back in my locker. I wasn't sure what I should do yet. But I knew I wasn't ready to talk to him.

He called that night, but I pretended to be asleep when Nanna checked so I wouldn't have to speak to him. When I was sure she had ended the call, I snuck out, grabbed the cordless extension and began to dial my father's phone number. Then stopped.

What would my father do if he found out I'd gaze dazed my boyfriend? What would the vampire council do? They'd
already threatened my entire family just to get me to stop dancing. If they found out I had vampire eyes and could sense others' emotions around me…

I remembered Mom's words from last year, about how both sides feared I would become a secret weapon for their enemies to use against them. If I told my father that I'd gaze dazed someone, would the council demand that I side with them against the Clann? Would they take me away from Nanna and Mom?

No, that could not happen. I couldn't risk anyone knowing about this. I would just have to find a way to deal with it on my own, like I had before.

Besides, it would all be fine soon. Greg would recover and go back to his ordinary, sweet self. He
had
to. Because if he didn't, I honestly didn't know what I was going to do.

 

The next day, I stopped by the girls' bathroom before lunch. Greg would be waiting for me in the cafeteria. What if he wasn't recovered yet, or was in the process of recovering, and seeing me again set him back somehow?

The only safe option was to stay away from him and hope that a little more time and distance would help the effects wear off faster.

I didn't look in my locker that day, not wanting to find any more borderline-insane letters from Greg. When I got home after Charmers practice, the first words out of my mouth to Nanna were to tell anyone who called for me that I was sleeping. Thankfully she didn't press for an explanation, though the look in her eyes promised she would soon if the problem continued. The sound of the phone ringing an hour later made me want to throw up.

On Wednesday at lunch, I peeked through the narrow windows of the cafeteria doors, took one look at Greg's wild hand gestures and wide eyes at my friends' table, and my feet steered me right back to the nearest girls' bathroom.

I leaned against the long counter and stared at my reflection in the mirror. How could such ordinary, boring-looking eyes like mine cause so much trouble? This was ridiculous. I couldn't keep spending my lunch breaks in the bathroom. If Greg didn't recover soon, I would have to figure out something else, and fast. Though what could I do except break up with him? Even if the effects wore off in the next day or two, I would still continue risking this same situation every time I saw him. Better to break things off with him now, for both our sakes. After all, this wasn't just about him and me anymore. The gaze daze was obviously affecting other areas of his life, too, like his friendships with Mark and Peter.

Then again, how fair would it be to dump him? He hadn't asked to be changed, and probably didn't even know what he was doing under the gaze daze's influence. Should he really be held responsible for a change my freaky eyes had caused?

Never mind how much I would miss talking to him every day. Who else would I be able to laugh with about the Charmers latest drama? I already missed looking forward to his phone calls and notes in my locker. They used to be the highlight of my day.

“There you are,” Anne said, scowling as she entered the bathroom. “Hiding out from Greg again?”

“No, just…debating. I don't know what's the right thing to do here. And until I can figure it out, I don't think I should see him.”

“Yeah, well, you don't have to figure it out all alone in the bathroom. Come on, what good are your friends if we can't protect you from one measly boy?”

Protection. From Greg, Mr. Boy Scout himself. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. “Anne—”

“I promise, Sav, you'll be okay. Although it would help if you told me what was going on.”

Staring at the grubby linoleum floor, I sighed and nodded.
She was right. But I would have to be careful about what I revealed. “Remember the three boys from algebra last year?”

She sucked in a breath, the sound echoing off the tiled walls. “Same problem?”

I nodded, my eyes burning.

She swore. “Savannah, what made you think—”

“It's
Greg!
It's been five months since the last time. I thought maybe it would be okay.”

“You know I love you like a sister. But that was pretty dang stupid.”

“I know. I don't suppose he seemed better today? I saw him at our table, but I couldn't hear him.”