Tainted Crimson (13 page)

“I’m not sure if I’ll be drinking or not. If I do, I’ll get my brother to pick me up some. Thanks though.”

“Sure. See you around eight o’clock,” he replies excitedly.

When I turn, I glance over at the group of girls in the corner. They’re all staring at us like we’re aliens or something and I can’t help but wonder if this kid is picked on around here. He seems nice enough to me. Why would anyone pick on him?

I exit the coffee shop, coffee in hand, and begin my walk back to my new house.

When I get back to the house without D, my father is furious that we separated. I try blaming it all on D but he’s not taking any of it. In the middle of him giving me a stern lecture about the matter, D strides in through the front door with the food in hand.

“Where have you been? You’re supposed to be watching her!” My father roars.

I cringe back.

“I was with her the entire time. She just couldn’t see me. I’ve been following her around on her little adventure. She had an awfully long chat with a barista at the coffee place down town. I think he likes her. You know very well that I wouldn’t leave her alone, Theenis.” D smirks.

“You better not. Ever. I’m trusting you,” my father grumbles back, sounding defeated.

“So...uh...that coffee guy invited me out to a party tonight.” I begin carefully. I’m expecting to get shut down but my father and D wait for me to continue. “I was hoping I could go...you know, so I can meet some people my age and stuff. He said he would drive and everything. He was okay with D coming too. I expect you’ll have to send a supervisor with me,” I assume in sort of a mocking tone, although I understand why I need protection. I’m not going to be idiotic and get myself killed or kidnapped or whatever. I do value my life.

My father continues staring at me as if he’s waiting for more so I mouth the word ‘please’.

He shrugs. “As long as Daymon goes with you then I guess I’m okay with it. You have to be home at a decent time though because you have to spend the day with Daymon tomorrow working on your power wielding. It’s time we start getting back into some sort of a routine.”

I agree with him. Maybe a routine is what I need in order to accept this crazy new life.

Eight o’clock rolls around quicker than I expect it to and I find myself sifting through my scanty new wardrobe trying to find something to wear. I end up picking out a nice hoodie and blinged out jeans. I hope this isn’t too fancy a party because this is as fancy as I can get.

When I go downstairs to make sure D is ready, I nearly trip over a rug that I swear was not at the bottom of the stairs earlier this afternoon. I catch myself on the stair railing and race into the kitchen more excited than I probably should be for this shindig.

D is sitting in the kitchen, swallowing down some toast, big surprise that he’s eating, he’s always eating. I sneak up behind him and snatch the toast from his hand just as he’s about to take another bite. I shove it in my own mouth and he’s suddenly on his feet, poised to attack me.

“Jesus. I thought you were going to try and scare me not steal my food. How rude. Now I have to make more.” He sighs.

“You heard me?” I wonder. Here I thought I was being sneaky.

“Of course I did. You’re not sneaky.”

“Why didn’t you eat your macaroni nuggets or whatever?” I tease.

“Because I’m saving them for tomorrow. We’re going to share them for lunch. You are going to fall in love with these things,” he promises, while popping two new slices of bread into the toaster.

A knock on the front door makes me jump. Blake must be here. I prance up to the door and swing it open.

“Hey!” Blake greets upon seeing my face. He cleans up pretty well. I almost don’t recognize him while he’s no longer in his cafe apron. “Is your friend coming? What’s his name again?”

“His name is Daymon but I call him D,” I explain. “He’s just making some toast in the kitchen. Do you want to come in?” I ask in the friendliest tone I can muster.

“Sure I guess," he says awkwardly and then steps in. I get a waft of his thick cologne and have to convince my body not to cough. I think he could've gotten away with half as much.

“Hello there,” Daymon calls to Blake as we enter the kitchen. “You must be David,” he exclaims.

I roll my eyes. He knows his name. I’ve only mentioned it six times in the last few hours.

“I’m Blake. You must be Daymon,” he corrects.

“Ah, Blake. Right. Yeah, I’m Daymon. Want some toast?”

Seriously? D is going to scare him away before we even leave the house.

“Right on, man. I love toast!” Blake cries and lunges for the bag of bread on the counter. He drops a couple slices into the other half of the toaster. Okay, seriously? Boys are weird.

“I think I’m going to like you. I can appreciate a fellow toast lover.” D chuckles. “Ariella snatched my last piece and ate it so that’s why I’m running approximately two minutes late.I'm always on time, just for record.”

Blake looks at me as if I’m some sort of demon. “She did what?” His eyes widening in mock horror.

“Exactly. I’m glad you understand,” D says and I notice that he’s playing nice with the human. Unlike earlier when he had that little fit. What had gotten in to him?

You look surprised that I’m being nice to the human.

I’m about to answer out loud when I realize that I heard his words in my head and he didn’t speak them out loud. I look to him. He’s staring at me with amusement. How did he do that? Hell, why am I even asking, it must be some sort of witchy trick.

I decide to answer him with a quick nod.

I'm sorry about earlier. I don't know what got into me. It won't happen again. Will you forgive me?

He's sorry? D doesn't really come off as the type of guy to apologize. He must really feel bad. Our silent conversation is interrupted when D’s toast pops. He pulls it out from the toaster and slaps on some kind of yellow jelly. I’m glad he hadn’t put that gross goo on the piece that I stole. I hate jam.

A few seconds later, Blake’s pops up.  Blake just has his plain. That's the way to go in my opinion. The whole time the two of them are eating it is completely silent, that is, if you subtract their moans and the disgusting, slobbery sounds they're making as the basically inhale the food. Boys are seriously so weird. I don't think there's any understanding them.

Finally, they finish eating and we manage to get out the door and into Blake’s old farm truck while the two of them banter about some sports game that was on the TV earlier in the evening. I didn't know that D even liked sports.

“Hey, are you guys bringing alcohol or what?” Blake asks as he puts the truck in drive.

“Oh...yeah! One second,” D requests and then runs into the house and comes out with a paper bag full of what I assume is in fact alcohol a couple minutes later, leaving Blake and I in the truck alone in awkward silence.

The drive is longer than I anticipated but still not too far. When we begin getting close I can see the smoke from a large fire filling the sky. I’ve never been to a field party before. I excitedly jump out and I'm immediately glad that I picked acceptable attire for this occasion.

D is dressed in black jeans, a black V-neck and a leather jacket. He quickly takes off his jacket and throws it on the seat of the vehicle before shutting his door. I realize that I’ve never seen him without that jacket before and freeze when I see how his muscles bulge in his t-shirt. A shiver runs up my spine.

He notices me staring and winks. I snort out a laugh. I literally can’t tell if he’s flirting with me or just being weird.

He tosses me a vodka cooler from his bag and grabs himself out a huge bottle of vodka. I wonder to myself if he’s an alcoholic.

Right as I’m about to thank him for the cooler, music begins blaring from someone's truck speaker. Until that moment, I was completely unaware that a truck could play music so loud without blowing its speakers.

D wraps his arms around my shoulders and leads me towards the crowd as Blake waves for us to follow him. I wonder if he’s going to lock his truck, what about our alcohol? Shouldn’t we lock it inside of the vehicle? Then I remember that I’m no longer in the city. It's doubtful that anyone would steal someone else's stuff when it's in the open and everyone knows everyone.

Blake shouts something from ahead of us and D laughs but I have no idea what he’s just said because the music is far too loud.

One we reach the fire, Blake begins introducing us to people. I’m sure we meet nearly everyone around the huge bonfire in the center of the party, that is except for one group of people off to the side. I recognize the girls from the cafe standing with these people. Along with a few other people who look not so friendly.

After meeting most of the crowd, I can hardly remember any names but everyone is certainly excited to me meet D and I. We tell our fabricated stories numerous times and answer the same questions fifty times over before we are let free when Blake finds one of his friends pulling up to the party and races over to their truck. I have a couple more coolers and mingle with a friendly couple sitting on a log by the fire for about half an hour. I manage to put names to their faces. The girl is Vivian Meyers and the boy is Mason Ransok. They seem friendly enough. Meanwhile, D is out dumping vodka down other people’s throats. Is that how guys socialize and make friends? I watch as a few guys high five him and give him what I can only call ‘bro hugs’. I roll my eyes.

Vivian and I talk, or should I say shout, about the weather, school, my old classes, my old city, and other things. Finally, I decide that I have to pee and get up from the comfy log and say my goodbyes to the nice couple. I skip over to some nearby trees and am about to whip down my pants when I hear strange sounds coming from deeper into the trees. I stand perfectly still and listen closely. The sound of the music is still loud but not near as it is closer to the fire. I can make out the sound of a girl moaning and I worry that she’s hurt. I start rummaging through the trees towards the sounds when I hear a man’s voice. It’s only then that I realize what is
really
happening. Gross. I quickly get out of there and find a new batch of trees a little further on to pee in.

“Oh, thank god. There you are,” D’s familiar voice calls thankfully as I finish hiking up my pants with more difficulty than necessary. I realize that between the few coolers, swigs of other people’s drinks, and gulps of D’s vodka, I am very, very, tipsy. Okay, possibly even drunk.

I swear I was fine when I left the fire to go pee but suddenly things are a little blurry and the sounds are a little muffled. “I’m peeing. I was gone for five seconds. Just chill out,” I demand.

He chuckles. “You’re drunk, Ariella. You better sober up or your dad will kill me.”

“Am not," I lie. I hope he doesn’t decide to take me home or something.

“Sure,you're not. Would you like to dance with me?” he asks as a new song comes on.

I shrug. Sober me is not much of a dancer...at all, but apparently drunk me is...or at least thinks she is. He grabs my left hand and drags me back towards the fire and to where a few couples and groups of people are dancing off to the side of the gathering.

“You’re old. You probably dance like they do on the TV in old movies,” I tease drunkenly.

This time
he
rolls his eyes at
me
. “I do not. I’m not old, Ariella. I mean I’m
old
but not in the way that you think.” He laughs while pulling a stick from my hair. I grab it from his hand and begin laughing. Oops. I must gotten it stuck in my hair when I went to pee.

He takes a swig from his bottle of vodka and then hands it to me. I take a small taste as I don’t want to overdo it and embarrass myself in front of all of these people and make a terrible first impression.

D takes the last gulp from the bottle and then tosses it towards a pile of bottles beside the fire.

“You finished that already, man?” some guy from beside the fire hollers towards D. He smirks and nods.

“Go hard or go home, my friend,” he replies. Then to me, more seriously, he says, “I think Blake passed out somewhere, I haven’t seen him in forever.”

“I haven’t either,” I realize while glancing around.

“Maybe he ran off with a girl,” D guesses, gaging my reaction. Does he really think that I like Blake? I only just met the guy. I can't tell if he's being protective or
jealous.

“Maybe,” I reply, giving away nothing.

“You think he’s cute,” D tries again.

I shrug, again giving away nothing. For the record, I don’t. Not really at least.

“That’s all you’re going to give me isn’t it?” D snickers with mock sadness.

“I think he could be cute, in a few years when he doesn’t have such a baby face,” I answer finally. This seems to please him.

“So you’re into older guys then, are you?” he asks a little jokingly.

“I don’t know. I don’t really have a
type
.”

“Everyone has a type,” he rebuttals.

“I don’t know. What’s your type then?” I ask, actually curious. Curious for reasons that I shouldn't be.

“Short, funny, stubborn, brave, a little wild, and adventurous,” he lists. “Basically, to sum it up in one word, my type is you,” he says slowly while taking in my reaction.

At first, it doesn’t register. Then what he said settles into my alcohol ridden brain. I struggle to keep my jaw from dropping. He has to be joking. He can not possible
like
me. At least not like that. He's my fathers best friend. He's centuries old. Isn't that completely weird? Doesn't that make him some sort of pedophile? But I can't lie to myself, when he says this, my heart leaps excitedly at the thought.