Dark Kiss
Page 45
In the meantime, I’d focus on being normal. If I didn’t, then there’d be too much damage to clean up when everything went back to life as usual.
Even after the way I’d been eating lately, I was surprised that I was exactly the same weight as before when I got on the scale. One pound less, actually. Carly wouldn’t be too pleased about that. I think she wanted me to gain a few pounds to go along with the ton of calories I’d been scarfing down every day since—
Oh, crap. Carly.
I’d forgotten to call her last night to make sure she got home okay. Also, to fill her in on the highly edited version of what had happened between me and Stephen. She was going to kill me.
I checked my phone while I sat on the linoleum floor by our lockers, but it was still acting glitchy. It was like it wouldn’t hold a battery charge for more than a couple minutes. I had no idea if she’d been texting or calling about how angry she’d been when I’d ditched her last night.
I hadn’t really ditched her. Things were just kind of complicated right now. She’d understand. Eventually.
Out of the corner of my eye I finally saw her approach our lockers. She had a big smile on her face, which was surprising on several levels. She wasn’t a morning person by any definition of the term. I slowly got to my feet.
“You look happy this morning,” I said cautiously.
“I am happy this morning.”
If she was happy, then I was happy. Not in the grand scheme of things, but I’d try my best.
“Sorry I didn’t call you last night.”
That was enough to dim the shiny cheer on her face. She gave me a sideways glance. “Guess you were busy. Did you have fun with…what was his name? Bishop?”
“Sure. Fun. That’s what I had.” I grabbed my books and shut the locker behind me. “You probably want to know all about it. And about Stephen, too.”
“We’ll talk later,” she said. “I promise. Bye!”
And that was that. She was gone, like a blond streak down the hallway toward her first-period art class.
After everything that had happened last night, that she wasn’t pissed at me should have made me feel a lot better. One less thing to deal with. But for some reason, her übercheery attitude felt a bit fake. And after being her best friend since we were five, I knew fake Carly from real Carly. This was definitely fake Carly.
Great. She was pissed at me, but trying to hide it. Just my luck.
Maybe I should have stayed home today. And tomorrow. And right through senior year.
But staying true to what Bishop had suggested—that I go back to my normal life—I trudged along the hall toward English class. It wasn’t long before someone fell into step with me. I knew who it was without even looking.
Yet another problem I wasn’t sure how to deal with.
“So you never gave me an answer yesterday,” Colin said.
Oh, yes, yesterday. When I’d practically inhaled him through my mouth when he got too close to my orbit of hunger. By the look on his face, I think I’d given him the wrong impression. Couldn’t say I blamed him. I would have gotten the wrong impression if some guy seemed to have trouble keeping his hands and lips off me, too.
We passed through the hall thick with other kids, all moving in different directions as the bell finally rang. The sound of lockers clanging shut echoed down the hallway.
“We should probably talk,” I told him, trying hard to keep at least three feet between us at all times.
“I totally agree.”
Best that I let him down easy. Rip this Band-Aid off nice and quick right now and this wouldn’t hurt any longer than it had to.
“This isn’t going to happen, you and me,” I said.
His smile faded and he slowed his pace only steps from our class. Most of the hall was empty now apart from a few stragglers like us.
Damn it. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought this up now, after all. It wasn’t like I could just walk away from him. I wasn’t that coldhearted.
“You aren’t even giving it a chance,” he said. “I felt it yesterday, there’s something between us.”
I couldn’t exactly tell him that the reason I’d been so attracted to him was that when he got too close to me, I hungered for his soul. It wasn’t something he’d likely take at face value.
I’d been paying close attention to my interaction with other people. And it had everything to do with personal space. In the halls, surrounded by kids, I felt hungry all the time, but I didn’t lose my mind and attack anyone with my lips since most people kept their distance. But Colin—he, for some crazy reason—had decided he liked me as more than a friend. That meant he tried to get closer to me. And closer—that was a bad thing. Too close and my brain stopped working normally and my hunger shifted into overdrive.
He was getting too close right now.
Not that Colin wasn’t appealing on other levels. Colin was very cute. He’d gotten even better-looking since the summer, when he and Carly had been seeing each other. However, his shaggy sandy-blond hair could use a bit of a trim.
Suddenly I found myself stroking that sandy blond hair back off his forehead like I had no control over what my hand chose to do. I stared up at him hungrily.
Bad. This was bad. He’d gotten too close. Only a foot away now and my brain started going blurry at the edges. And his scent, like cinnamon, apple pie—spicy and warm—became impossible to ignore. Bishop smelled even better to me and I was drawn to him like nobody else, but he didn’t have a soul to worry about.
Even after the way I’d been eating lately, I was surprised that I was exactly the same weight as before when I got on the scale. One pound less, actually. Carly wouldn’t be too pleased about that. I think she wanted me to gain a few pounds to go along with the ton of calories I’d been scarfing down every day since—
Oh, crap. Carly.
I’d forgotten to call her last night to make sure she got home okay. Also, to fill her in on the highly edited version of what had happened between me and Stephen. She was going to kill me.
I checked my phone while I sat on the linoleum floor by our lockers, but it was still acting glitchy. It was like it wouldn’t hold a battery charge for more than a couple minutes. I had no idea if she’d been texting or calling about how angry she’d been when I’d ditched her last night.
I hadn’t really ditched her. Things were just kind of complicated right now. She’d understand. Eventually.
Out of the corner of my eye I finally saw her approach our lockers. She had a big smile on her face, which was surprising on several levels. She wasn’t a morning person by any definition of the term. I slowly got to my feet.
“You look happy this morning,” I said cautiously.
“I am happy this morning.”
If she was happy, then I was happy. Not in the grand scheme of things, but I’d try my best.
“Sorry I didn’t call you last night.”
That was enough to dim the shiny cheer on her face. She gave me a sideways glance. “Guess you were busy. Did you have fun with…what was his name? Bishop?”
“Sure. Fun. That’s what I had.” I grabbed my books and shut the locker behind me. “You probably want to know all about it. And about Stephen, too.”
“We’ll talk later,” she said. “I promise. Bye!”
And that was that. She was gone, like a blond streak down the hallway toward her first-period art class.
After everything that had happened last night, that she wasn’t pissed at me should have made me feel a lot better. One less thing to deal with. But for some reason, her übercheery attitude felt a bit fake. And after being her best friend since we were five, I knew fake Carly from real Carly. This was definitely fake Carly.
Great. She was pissed at me, but trying to hide it. Just my luck.
Maybe I should have stayed home today. And tomorrow. And right through senior year.
But staying true to what Bishop had suggested—that I go back to my normal life—I trudged along the hall toward English class. It wasn’t long before someone fell into step with me. I knew who it was without even looking.
Yet another problem I wasn’t sure how to deal with.
“So you never gave me an answer yesterday,” Colin said.
Oh, yes, yesterday. When I’d practically inhaled him through my mouth when he got too close to my orbit of hunger. By the look on his face, I think I’d given him the wrong impression. Couldn’t say I blamed him. I would have gotten the wrong impression if some guy seemed to have trouble keeping his hands and lips off me, too.
We passed through the hall thick with other kids, all moving in different directions as the bell finally rang. The sound of lockers clanging shut echoed down the hallway.
“We should probably talk,” I told him, trying hard to keep at least three feet between us at all times.
“I totally agree.”
Best that I let him down easy. Rip this Band-Aid off nice and quick right now and this wouldn’t hurt any longer than it had to.
“This isn’t going to happen, you and me,” I said.
His smile faded and he slowed his pace only steps from our class. Most of the hall was empty now apart from a few stragglers like us.
Damn it. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought this up now, after all. It wasn’t like I could just walk away from him. I wasn’t that coldhearted.
“You aren’t even giving it a chance,” he said. “I felt it yesterday, there’s something between us.”
I couldn’t exactly tell him that the reason I’d been so attracted to him was that when he got too close to me, I hungered for his soul. It wasn’t something he’d likely take at face value.
I’d been paying close attention to my interaction with other people. And it had everything to do with personal space. In the halls, surrounded by kids, I felt hungry all the time, but I didn’t lose my mind and attack anyone with my lips since most people kept their distance. But Colin—he, for some crazy reason—had decided he liked me as more than a friend. That meant he tried to get closer to me. And closer—that was a bad thing. Too close and my brain stopped working normally and my hunger shifted into overdrive.
He was getting too close right now.
Not that Colin wasn’t appealing on other levels. Colin was very cute. He’d gotten even better-looking since the summer, when he and Carly had been seeing each other. However, his shaggy sandy-blond hair could use a bit of a trim.
Suddenly I found myself stroking that sandy blond hair back off his forehead like I had no control over what my hand chose to do. I stared up at him hungrily.
Bad. This was bad. He’d gotten too close. Only a foot away now and my brain started going blurry at the edges. And his scent, like cinnamon, apple pie—spicy and warm—became impossible to ignore. Bishop smelled even better to me and I was drawn to him like nobody else, but he didn’t have a soul to worry about.
