Turning Grace (15 page)

“Something is wrong with me, Tristen. Something terrible. I can’t explain it. I’m hungry all the time. I just want to eat. My mouth waters at the thought of anything going into it. I wake up every morning feeling awful. I’m tired and weak and so hungry all the time. But the second I eat I feel better. I don’t know why I ate that cat, but at the moment, it was the best thing I have ever eaten. Until tonight. When I tasted Sonny’s blood, something inside me wanted more. I was just so…hungry!” I held back the urge to cry my eyes out. I cherished the moment, as it was the first time I was able to finally tell someone other than my mother what I was going through. A weight lifted off my shoulders, and I suddenly felt like I could breathe at last.

I felt Tristen’s hand on my shoulder. I closed my eyes, thanking God that he didn’t run away.

He pulled me around to face him. “Grace, you’re right, something is wrong. I don’t understand why you have this urge. But whatever it is, we will figure it out. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”

“Why? Why isn’t this making you run for the hills?” New Orleans didn’t have hills really, it was pretty flat, but I had always wanted to use that expression.

Before Tristen could answer, the sound of sirens in the distance interrupted. I couldn’t tell if they were police or an ambulance, but terror began to course its way through me.

A second later I see Phoebe and Eric running down the street in our direction. Behind them, drunken teenagers began scattering about, spewing out of Sonny’s enormous palace. My panic intensified as I recalled seeing Phoebe’s expression after I’d eaten a piece of Sonny’s arm. I knew the best friend I once had would be too terrified of me to keep that title.

I braced myself as Phoebe and Eric approached us, but relief washed over me when she ran straight into me with open arms. She hugged me tight, almost as if she hadn’t seen me in decades.

“Gracie! Are you okay?” she asked as she pulled away and assessed my face. I nodded. It was all I could do while I fought back the tears that began to accumulate when the thought of our precious friendship ending because of my stupid actions crossed my mind.

“Guys, they called the cops. We really need to get out of here,” said Eric.

Phoebe grabbed my shoulders and stepped back to get a better look at me. She knew in an instant what I was thinking. “G, we need to get you outta here. Sonny is gonna rat you out, and the cops are gonna want to take you away.”

“Was it that bad?” I asked, worry and panic deepening into my nerves.

“Let’s just say that Sonny will probably never be able to use her arm again, if she is even able to keep it,” Eric stated.

“Oh my God! Oh my God! What do I do?” I asked, desperately hoping someone could give me an answer.

Phoebe shook me once. “Grace, there is no time to think about what happened. We need to get you far away from here.” And with that, Phoebe handed me off to Tristen, and we ran towards the car.

As we headed back, the ambulance was already parked at the house and Sonny was coming out of the front door lying on a gurney. Thankfully, everyone was too busy watching Sonny being wheeled to the ambulance and no one was looking our way. We managed to get back to Marilyn without anyone stopping us. We piled in and drove off down the street.

My heart was racing a million miles a minute. My thoughts were scattered.
Okay Grace, step back and get a bigger picture.
What happened? Well, Tristen and I kissed. We kissed and danced and it was incredible. It was sweet and passionate and everything I thought it would be. His lips were soft, his touch was tender.

…And then Sonny caught us. She pushed me. I warned her. She pulled my hair. And I bit her. And it tasted remarkable. Fluffy had nothing on what Sonny Westwood tasted like. It was bitter and sweet. It was moist and warm. It was succulent and better than anything I could ever imagine eating in my life. Her fleshy tissue melted in my mouth. And the texture of her raw meat was supple and really reminded me of Mom’s beef stew, only more flavorful.

I closed my eyes and thought of that moment I tasted this, suddenly feeling the craving for more.

“Grace, are you okay?” Tristen asked, interrupting my train of thought.

I glanced over at him and nodded. I peeked at the rearview mirror and saw Eric’s eyes were switching between me and the road. Phoebe turned to me as if to say something, but refrained for the moment. I felt the awkwardness in the air, and decided someone had to say something.

“I’m sorry.”

Tristen immediately laid his hands on mine. “Grace you don’t have to be sorry.”

“Yeah, that bitch deserved it,” Phoebe added.

“Well, you have to admit…it was pretty harsh though,” Eric chimed in.

Phoebe whipped her head toward Eric. “Eric, she did what she had to do. Sonny wouldn’t let go of her.”

“Yeah babe, but she nearly bit her arm clear off. How in the world could anyone even do that? Man, she must have some strong teeth.”

I knew someone in our group would protest to what I did. Phoebe was my best friend, and although I briefly thought that our friendship would end because of my actions, deep inside I knew she would defend me. And Tristen had already exclaimed that he was in this no matter what.

He squeezed my hand as if to comfort me before saying, “Dude, you never know what your body can do when it’s in survival mode.”

“Yeah, but then she…ate it,” Eric said in disgust. Everyone grew silent. I looked down at Tristen’s hand as I opened mine and interlaced our fingers.

“Grace, why did you eat it?” Phoebe asked.

I looked up at her. Her eyes were filled with concern and genuine curiosity. I knew she was as scared as I was. But would anyone in this car understand that in that moment, Sonny’s smell was enticing? I had no other option than to taste her. My mind wouldn’t allow me to do anything else.

“I…I don’t know. It just…it smelled so…I just wanted to taste it. I don’t know Phoebe. It just tasted so good,” I admitted.

“What did it taste like?” Tristen asked, intrigued.

I didn’t look at him. “It tasted sweet. And soft. And really, really good.”

Everyone grew silent again; I was guessing to let what I’d just said seep in. It wasn’t everyday someone would talk about what human flesh tasted like.

“Where are we going?” I asked hoping to change the subject. Part of me wanted to go home so that I can eat something Mom had left over. Hunger was beginning to course through me again.

“We are going back to my place. We can’t take Grace home because if the cops wanna ask questions, that is probably the first place they’ll go,” Eric answered. I sunk back in my seat, realizing that he hadn’t spoken directly to me since we drove away from Sonny’s house. He was growing skeptical of me.

Chapter 13

The Couch

The rest of the ride was silent. Tristen kept hold of my hand. Phoebe, who normally had no issues ever speaking to me, remained speechless. I could see the tension in her shoulders the whole ride.

We pulled up to an apartment complex with a sign out front labeling it “Coldwater Creek”. We were about twenty minutes from my house. Seeing as no one really knew Eric at the party since he didn’t attend our school, this was probably the safest place to be.

We unloaded out of the car and headed up the stairs. Once on the third floor, Eric unlocked his door and let us in. It was a tiny apartment with the usual drab eggshell-colored walls and beige carpets. There was a small couch in the living room. A glass coffee table sat in between the couch and TV. An Xbox console rested on the floor next to it with discs scattered around it. To the right was the kitchen. A refrigerator that seemed like it could only hold eggs and a carton of milk stood in the corner with a stove that only had two burners next to it. Past the kitchen and living room was a door that I assumed was the single bedroom and bathroom. It became known to me that this must have been what was called a bachelor pad, seeing as there were a couple of empty beer bottles lying around and no type of interior design. It seemed like this was just the place he slept and hung out with his buddies playing video games on occasion. Phoebe’s kind of guy. She was more into the guy himself instead of what he had to show for himself.

We walked in and Eric went straight to the fridge to fetch some beers. I was assuming now he was feeling he really needed a drink. After what I did tonight, I was feeling the need for one myself.

“So, what’s the plan?” Tristen asked, reaching for the beer as Eric handed his beer.

Phoebe came out of the bedroom changed into shorts and a tank top. She seemed comfortable in Eric’s home. “Well,” she said, “I think we should hang out here for a bit and just chill till everything dies down.”

“Phoebe, it’s not just gonna go away. Grace hurt her pretty badly. The cops aren’t just gonna quit looking for her,” Eric stated.

“Can you please stop talking about me like I’m not here?” I asked, beginning to feel really irritated with how he was treating me.

Eric didn’t say anything and shrugged his shoulders. I walked over to where Tristen was sitting on the couch and plopped down next to him.

“Yeah babe, it’s rude,” Phoebe whispered in his direction.

“Listen,” Tristen began. “I agree that we need to figure out a better plan. But for now, why don’t we just stay here for the night.” He looked at me. “I know you are freaked out right now. Why don’t we just get some sleep and when we wake up in the morning, we’ll figure it out.”

“I like that plan,” Phoebe said during a yawn. Eric remained quiet. I felt his skepticism, and I was sure that he was questioning even having me in his home. But honestly, I didn’t think he would protest because I was Phoebe’s best friend and he knew for certain that she would not be okay with kicking me out to the curb.

“I’m gonna get you guys some sheets and pillows. The couch doesn’t pull out, but you can try to fit on it together,” Phoebe said.

“The floor will be fine,” I blushed. The thought of Tristen and I being that close to one another sounded amazing…and terrifying at the same time.

Phoebe came back out of the bedroom with sheets, some pillows, and a change of clothes for me and set them down on the couch. I looked over at my emotionally tired friend, wondering just what she was thinking at that very moment.

She glanced over and smiled before coming to sit next to me.

Tristen got up and asked Eric to show him where the bathroom was. He was giving Phoebe and I a moment alone, and I appreciated that very much.

“Phoebe, I’m so sorry I ruined tonight. Halloween, our special night.”

“Are you kidding me, G? You kicked some Sonny ass tonight.”

“No I didn’t. I practically chewed her arm off!” I explained, feeling the remorse set in again.

Phoebe’s expression changed into a serious one. “Grace, why did you do it? Why did you eat it? Why didn’t you spit it out?”

I couldn’t look her in the eyes when she asked me this. Shame overpowered me. “I don’t know. It just happened.”

“I can’t help but feel like you’re not telling me something. I want you to know, Grace, that you can tell me anything. I will never judge you. You’re my best friend till the end. We’re soul buddies, remember?”

The moment Phoebe and I claimed this title flashed through my memories. We were about eight or nine years old and playing with Barbies at my house. Phoebe was Barbie and I was Ken. I remember our Barbies got into an imaginary fight and I began to cry because I told her that I thought Barbie and Ken were soul mates and shouldn’t fight. Phoebe looked over at me and said
we
were soul mates.
We
were soul buddies. And from then on, we were.

I smiled at that beautiful memory. “Tomorrow, I will explain everything I know about what is going on. Tonight, let’s just get some sleep. You look really tired.”

She lifted her arms above her head and yawned. “I am. But don’t be surprised if you hear some mysterious noises coming from the bedroom,” she said and gave me a wink. “I’m not that tired yet.”

I noticed a slither of blood on her leg about a finger-length long when she moved to stand up. “Hey, what happened to your leg?”

“Oh, I think I hit it on something in the haunted house.” She examined it and touched it gently, removing some of the blood that then revealed a narrow cut in her skin. “Don’t worry, Eric will kiss it better,” she said with a devilish grin.

I shook my head. She walked over to the bedroom door as Tristen was entering the living room.

“And we’ll talk about that one tomorrow too,” she said and nodded in Tristen’s direction. The blood rushed to my cheeks.

“You know it,” I said to hide my shyness.

“I love you, Grace.”

“I love you too, Phoebe.”

She shut the door behind her and I stifled back my tears. Tristen sat beside me on the couch and laid his hand on my thigh.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, yes. I’m fine,” I lied.

“Are you ready to lie down?”

“Sure, I’m a little tired.” The truth was…I was beginning to feel my hunger strike back. I remembered my Ziplocks and reached down into my purse to grab a few bags. Feeling a little self-conscious after what happened just a couple of hours before, I decided to ask Tristen if he was okay with me eating.

“Do you mind?” I asked, lifting my bag into the air.

“No, go ahead. Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

He got up and began laying out the sheets and pillows on the floor for us. “So, what is it that you’re eating anyway?”

“Um, it’s just treats my mom makes. There is some beef jerky and dried cranberries and other stuff. Do you want one,” I asked, trying to be polite but secretly hoping he wouldn’t take the offer.

“Sure, I’ll take some beef jerky. I’m kind of starved myself.”

I handed him a slice. He bit down and began to chew.

“So you’re Mom makes all this herself?”

“Yeah, she makes pretty much everything we eat. She is an amazing cook. Well, you would know, you ate some of it.”

His eyebrows furrowed. He held the beef jerky up to his face and began to analyze it.

“What’s wrong, you don’t like it?” I asked. How could he not, it was marvelous.

“It just doesn’t taste like any other jerky I’ve had. What kind of meat is this, do you know?”

I reached down into my purse to grab another baggie. “Um, I’m not sure actually. Mom never wants me around when she’s cooking. I actually don’t know any of her recipes.”

“Huh,” he mumbled and ate the rest of the jerky.

I walked over to the sink in the kitchen and started to wash the Halloween makeup off my face. If I woke up in the morning with this stuff on, I was sure I would really look like a zombie.

After drying my face with a hand towel, I turned to find Tristen taking his shirt off. My reaction was to quickly turn back around. “Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t know you were—”

“It’s okay, Grace. Do you mind if I sleep without it? It’s got fake blood and crap all over it.”

“No, no I don’t mind.” Of course I didn’t mind.

I turned back around towards him and struggled to keep my jaw from hitting the floor. Just as I suspected, his six-pack abs and perfectly sculpted chest were revealed. I watched his muscles flex as he reached down to take his shoes off, and when he stood back up I took in the contour of his stomach, allowing my eyes to scan down his body, leading down to his jeans. He left them on. I took a deep breath and headed towards our makeshift bed. Only, there was one on the floor and one on the couch.

“I figured maybe you would be more comfortable on the couch,” he explained when he noticed my confusion.

“Oh, thank you.” Damn it. He was being polite. Not that I was expecting anything to transpire between us, intimately, but I was hoping to be close to him. “Do you mind if I take off my shirt?” I asked, realizing then how ridiculous that question was.

His cheeks flushed and he smiled. “Um…sure?”

Great. “No, I have a tank top on underneath. Don’t think it will be that easy, Miles.”

“I didn’t think it would be, Watkins.”

Tristen turned around, being the gentleman that he was, as I took my shirt off and changed into the spare shorts Phoebe handed me before heading off to bed.

I hopped over his bed on the floor, not wanting to mess it up. I stretched out on the couch and watched him reach over to the floor lamp and switch it off. The room was completely dark now, which was disappointing because I could no longer see his beautiful body.

We were positioned like a capital T, with me on the couch and him on the floor. I lied on my back, wondering what he was thinking at that very moment.

“You have a tattoo,” I stated.

“I do.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a Phoenix. I got it when my grandpa passed away.”

I knew it. His grandpa. His impact.

He continued. “He was awesome. The most loving and caring person you would ever meet. He was smart. He was funny. He was everything I want to be.”

“What happened?” I asked, curiously. I didn’t want to pry, and hoped that he was okay with me asking him this question.

Without hesitation, he answered. “He got sick. Lung cancer.”

“I’m so sorry, Tristen.” It hurt me deeply to know that this was painful for him. I had never lost anyone in my life. I had never even known my father well enough to have lost him when he left. The feeling he was feeling right now was foreign to me and I could only imagine what it was like.

“It’s okay. He died when I was thirteen. It was tough ‘cause he was like a second dad to me, you know? No one would even tell me he was sick. They were afraid of how I would react. But they finally did, and I was able to cherish every moment I had left with him.”

“Phoenix, a symbol of strength.”

“Yeah. He had gotten sick, and fought it for some time. He had been through a lot in his life. He was a Marine and had been through Vietnam. Got shot and discharged. His wife, my grandmother, died early on. Before I was born. He had just been through so much and still managed to see the brighter side of things. He was a Phoenix.”

My eyes swelled as I listened to Tristen. His voice was full of grief and I knew exactly why his grandfather impacted his life. An envious emotion shot through me when I realized I didn’t have anyone in my life like that.

It was quiet for a few moments and I wished I could be beside him, holding him.

“Grace?”

“Yeah?”

“What do you think is wrong? Do you think you’re sick?”

I sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t know what is happening to me.”

“Are you scared?”

“Very.”

Before I knew it, Tristen stood up from his makeshift bed on the floor and laid down next to me on the couch. I slid over as much as I could to make room, however the couch wasn’t very wide at all, forcing us to be as close to each other as we possibly could be.

He turned me towards his chest, and I unconsciously nestled my head into it. His skin was warm and I could feel every muscle in his unbelievable chest. He wrapped his arms around my body and our legs intertwined into each other’s. He kissed my forehead and held me tight.

I didn’t know what made me do it in that moment, but a flood gate seemed to open and I cried and cried into his chest for what seemed like hours. He didn’t say a word, but held me tight, not letting go. He kissed my head every time he felt me cry harder.

I realized that I hadn’t actually shown any emotion since this began happening to me. I was too busy wondering what was wrong and worrying about my next meal and hiding it from the people I loved, like Phoebe, to truly take in what was happening. Something terrible was occurring and I had no idea what it was. It was a feeling of the unknown and complete loneliness. I felt like I was the only person in the world experiencing it. There was a big decision to be made soon, and I was the only one who could make it. And I had no clue what to do.