Karma Bites (4 page)

“You’re pretty funny when you talk.” Now he’s looking at me and I’m reduced to a puddle of goo.

I try and keep it up. He likes funny? I can be funny. “Yeah, that’s me. Comedy hour with Abby.” Then, I don’t know where it comes from, but I say, “It’s my mom. We got in a fight.”

“Yeah, parents suck.” He turns away from me again, picks up a Coke can, and stuffs his cigarette butt inside. Well, at least he’s cautious. No risk of a forest fire.

I feel the urge to defend Mom. Which is stupid because I’m angrier at her than I’ve ever been. No, not angry. Hurt. Sad. “I get along with my mom. It’s just, she’s too overprotective.” Which is true. The not going out after dark thing aside, I know that even if I had real friends, I wouldn’t be able to see them after dark without the vampire test. Now that she’s thinking they can come out in daytime, my life is bound to get worse.

Now that I start, I can’t stop though. “And secrets…she’s kept so many secrets from me, yet she’s always telling me it’s just the two of us and we need to stick together.”

Okay, I can shut up at any time. It isn’t as if he really cares what’s wrong with me and here I am rambling to him like he’s the diary tucked under my mattress. “See why I’m quiet at school? Once I talk, I can’t shut up. Sorry. I’m sure you have better things to do than listen to me.” I move to stand up. As much as I wish this moment wouldn’t end, I need to be alone.

“I asked, didn’t I?” His voice is deep and smooth.

“Yeah, I guess you did. Why?” I wonder.

The question frustrates him. Caleb picks up a branch, breaking pieces off and throwing them. “Hell, I don’t know. I see you all the time and you look so sad…shit, never mind.” He stands up and looks down at me. “You’re lucky, you know? There are a lot of parents out there who don’t give a crap about their kids. She may be overprotective, but at least you know she cares.”

His words make my eyes start to water again. He’s right. No matter what, I know Mom loves me. I know she thinks she’s doing what’s right for me. She just needs help. And the letter burning a hole in my pocket? That proves he loved me too.

“You’re a big girl, Abby. You want her to treat you differently, prove to her you deserve it.” Without another word, he turns and walks away, disappearing through the mass of trees.

When I came home last night, Mom closed herself in her room. My hands itched to knock, whether to demand more answers or to hug her and apologize, I hadn’t been sure. I hadn’t done either and after a night spent with my thoughts battling between my dad and what Caleb said (okay, and about how it felt to touch him, too), I sneak out of my house before she gets up.

I’m halfway out the door before a little stab of guilt pokes me. I race back into the kitchen and scrawl a short note that I’m in town. It’s daylight. I’m safe. Well, if “Modern Vampires” is wrong, I am.

Over and over last night I asked myself what I wanted with the same three things always taking the lead: Mom getting better, meeting my dad, and freedom. Freedom from stares, pitying looks, The LP, and from not having control over my own life. As much as I want to, I know I can’t fix Mom. I can’t find my dad because he’s really gone, but I can control myself. And maybe get a little freedom from the crazy at the same time.

Now, I know most people my age cringe at the thought, but the best way I can think of to go about this is to get a job. I spent most of the night thinking this through and I can’t believe I didn’t come to this conclusion earlier.

Caleb is right. If I want to prove to her I’m ready for the whole story, the first way to go about that is to show her I’m old enough and responsible enough to take care of myself.

And as much as I hate to admit it, even to myself while I’m walking down my near deserted street on a quiet Saturday morning, I need a break from her before I go crazy, too. I immediately feel like I’m wearing my bad daughter hat because I know she loves me. We’re all each other have. I know she hasn’t spoken to her parents since before I was born, but still, I’m not sure how much longer I can do this.

See? Bad daughter.

But what if this helps? What if letting me go a little bit, being forced to let me out after dark helps her? I shake my head, refusing to let myself think that way. Disappointment isn’t fun, and I’m not sure I’m up to it anymore.

So I check the one movie theater in town. Nada. The grocery store, gas station, I kid you not; I even try and find out about a paper route. Still nothing. By one o’clock I’m really starting to feel sorry for myself. I guess it’s my new motto or something and I don’t like it.

I’m getting sweaty and tired of walking, but this is the new me. I’m taking control and not giving up this early. So I keep trekking through Karma like all of a sudden, some good karma might come my way when I hear it: “Hey loser. Walking around to look for friends? I don’t think you’ll find any.”

I look over to see a Mercedes full of Lipstick Nazis. Just. My. Luck.
Thanks for the good karma!

I keep walking because I’m a new, mature woman and I’m not going to let them get to me. There are so many more important things on my mind.
My dad…

“Are you deaf now, Buffy?” Stacy yells, her black hair waving in the wind like she’s in a shampoo commercial.

I still ignore them because, hello? Is Buffy supposed to be a put down? Sarah Michelle Gellar seriously kicked butt. Plus, I could use some fantasies where I get to slay them.

They keep driving slowly next to me and all I can do is hope a car door opens and hits them. Funny, they taunt
me
for having no life, but they're the ones spending their afternoon following me around town.

“Oh! I got it! Are you on your way to your Vampires Anonymous meeting? Maybe you should get your psycho mom to tag along. You know, like mother-daughter bonding.”

And the pot boils over. I’m angry at Mom, myself and even at my dad and I really want to get rid of the LP. More than that I want to be the girl who isn’t followed around, harassed by a bunch of bimbos. I stop and look at them. Stacy’s car screeches as she must have hit the brakes.

“Don’t you have anything better to do? If you want to be friends, all you have to do is ask. Really, there’s no need to follow me around like a lost puppy.”

Did I mention before that I have bad luck? There’s an open parking space nearby and Stacy whips in. The LP jump out of the car and head my way. I run. Each pound of my feet against the ground makes me madder and madder at myself. I’m tired of running and giving them the satisfaction of knowing they’ll always win. They’ll always be better than me and I’ll always be the chased while they’re the chasers.

Hell, I don’t even know if they’re still following me, but I keep running, hoping I can outrun my problems.

I run until I reach Sampson’s Diner. It’s my last shot. I’m out of breath. My hair plastered to my forehead with sweat as I push through the door.

“Hi,” I gasp to Liz Sampson. The small, 1950’s-style-diner is empty. I know there’s not a chance she’s going to hire me looking like this, but right now I don’t have it in me to care. Before I even have the chance to catch my breath, I ask her, “Are you hiring?”

***

I wonder how long is
too
long for your heart to beat at double time? I’m pretty sure I’ve suffered a pretty bad case of rapid heart rate the past few days. It’s going crazy again as I step onto my porch. A girl should not be so nervous to go home, but I am.

After taking a couple deep breaths, I push past the door. It’s not like I can stay outside forever. Mom’s sitting on the couch, her eyes tinged with sadness as she looks at me. Immediately I mirror the feeling. It’s always like that with her. No matter how much she hurts me, I love her more than anything in the world.

“Hi,” I mumble, all the excitement I’d felt a little while ago hiding in the background.

Mom tries to smile at me. “Hey, kiddo.” She taps the couch cushion beside her. “I need to talk to you for a minute.”

“Yeah, I need to talk to you too.” I sit by her, guilt mixing with all the other emotions running wild inside me.
I don
’
t need to feel guilty. I didn
’
t do anything wrong.

Mom’s eyes are pained. She’s only thirty-five, but she looks older. Maybe not old so much as worn out. A knot slides down my throat. Why can’t things be easier for us?

“Can I go first?” Mom asks.

Whew. You betcha! “Yeah.”

She takes a couple deep breaths while I’m fidgeting and picking off what’s left of my purple nail polish.

“I need to apologize for the way I told you about your dad.” Her words make tears prick my eyes. “I was upset and took it out on you and that’s inexcusable. I’m sorry, sweetie.”

I wrap my arms around her, needing her more than I like to admit. Mom squeezes me back and we both cry. It doesn’t even bother me that I’m shedding tears again because I need them. Hers and mine, mingling together in the pain we both share. Because even though I know the vampire thing isn’t real, I know in my heart his death is.

I felt how much he loved us and know death is the only thing that keeps him from being here right now. It’s not fair and I hate it.

Mom pulls away first. Not completely, but far enough that she can look at me. “But now you know why I’m so vigilant with you. Why it kills me to let you out after dark and why I need you prepared about what lurks out there.”

“How do you know?” I ask her. “Were you there? Did you know about them before they killed him? Are they after us?” I feel guilty for taking advantage of this situation, but that’s exactly what I’m doing. Hoping she’s upset enough to give me more details. Hoping I can find the hole in her story to show her it’s a delusion.

When she grabs my hand, I know my odds aren’t that great. It’s what she always does when she’s going to tell me something I don’t like. “I’m not ready, Abbs. And honestly, I know you don’t believe me, but you aren’t either. Not for all the answers.”

Now I’m angry again. My body doesn’t know what to feel, whiplashing between different emotions. I pull my hand away.

“I wanted to wait until you were old enough to tell you about him, but you caught me off guard. I know you don’t understand, but I need you to trust me. I can’t give you more until I know more myself. It wouldn’t be right.”

I shake my head. “How can you expect me to trust you when you’ve kept so much from me my whole life?”
I can
’
t keep hiding inside at night. I can
’
t keep running away from people who throw your craziness at me.

“Because you’re old enough to know that you don’t know everything. That all I want to do is protect you.” I expect her to try and reach for my hand again, but she doesn’t.

“Oh, so I’m old enough to understand you get to call all the shots, but not old enough to understand what’s going on?” I’m shaking. In a second I’m off the couch and standing on the other side of the room. It’s then that I realize I think I want the answers because I want to believe her. I would rather vampires be real than know she really is crazy. It scares me.

“I got a job.” The words fly out of my mouth. “That’s what I wanted to tell you. Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday evenings.”

Mom opens her mouth to talk, but I cut her off. “I figure I’m
old enough
to have this kind of responsibility. Most kids my age already have jobs. I’ll get off at nine which isn’t too late, so I don’t see any reason you shouldn’t let--”

“No.”

“No?”

“It’s dangerous, Abbs. You don’t seem to understand that.”

“Of course I don’t understand it! You won’t give me any answers so I can understand. You just expect me to follow your orders and trust you when you don’t trust me! You think I’m old enough for what suits you and not what helps me.”

“Abby, its dangerous--”