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Page 13


  Jack texted me letting me know he loved me and they’d be getting on a plane soon. I thought about staying up to wait for him, but then I figured that falling asleep would make the time go faster. I crawled in his bed and couldn’t wait for him to get back.

  I felt him the instant he came in the house. My heart pounded with happiness, and I opened my eyes.

  - 17 –

  As soon as I stepped out of my room, I heard them arguing. They weren’t shouting, but they weren’t doing anything to be quiet either. I wanted to run down and greet Jack, but I decided to wait at the top of the steps, eavesdropping.

  “Oh, come on, Jack!” Peter said, sounding frustrated. “I did not take your pillow!”

  “You did too!” Jack insisted. “You were flirting with the stewardess and conned her into giving you the last pillow on the plane, which happened to be mine.”

  “Even if that is true, I didn’t know it was the last pillow. And she shouldn’t have given it to me if it was your pillow,” Peter said. “And I think they prefer the term ‘flight attendant.’”

  “Or, maybe, just maybe, you could’ve given me that pillow when you realized what she had done,” Jack said, ignoring Peter. “Maybe she was a shitty stewardess, but you saw what happened. You could’ve done the right thing for once in your life.”

  “Why? I wanted the pillow, and I had the pillow. It didn’t have your name on it. Why should I give it to you?” Peter asked. “Or are you the only one allowed to take things?”

  “I didn’t take anything!” Jack snapped. “I had one blanket and no pillows. What exactly was there for me to take?”

  “I don’t know, Jack. What in the world could you have possibly taken that didn’t belong to you?” Peter replied icily, and I could hear both of their heartbeats speed up.

  “Will the pair of you knock it off?” Ezra asked warily. From the sounds of it, they were somewhere near the bottom of the steps, in the kitchen maybe, but Ezra was walking past, going to his room. “People are sleeping, and I am so sick of hearing about the damn pillow.”

  “It’s not about the damn pillow,” Peter said.

  “Why don’t you tell me what this is really about?” Jack asked, but he knew exactly what it was about. I was getting a hint myself, and it made me nervous.

  “I know you two are having some kind of … scuffle, but so help me, if either one of you wake up Mae or disturb her in any way, you’ll be sorry. Do I make myself clear?” Ezra warned them.

  There was silence, then I heard Ezra walking down the hall to his room. Jack and Peter waited until they heard his bedroom door shut before speaking.

  “You’re an asshole,” Jack said when Ezra was gone.

  “You’re the asshole!” Peter whispered fiercely.

  “I just wanted a pillow!”

  “I just wanted you to leave her alone!” Peter shouted.

  The silence felt too thick, and my heart was barely beating, which was good, because I didn’t want them to know I was listening. I thought that maybe I should interrupt and stop them from whatever they might do, but they had to hash this out eventually. They hadn’t really spoken through everything that had transpired, and they had to have a lot of things bottled up.

  “But I didn’t. Now what do you want me to do about it?” Jack tried to keep his voice calm, but there was a definite edge to it. “Is stealing my pillow really making it even?”

  “God dammit, Jack! Will you shut up about the fucking pillow?”

  “What do you want me to do? What’s done is done!” Jack started shouting but remembered Ezra’s warning and quieted down. “Seriously. I don’t know what you expect me to do at this point. I can’t change what’s happened, and frankly, I don’t want to. So… that’s what it is.”

  “I don’t want anything from you,” Peter sighed, sounding defeated. “Just never mind. Next time I’ll make sure you get a damn pillow on the plane.”

  I had expected them to continue talking for longer, but I was wrong. Peter turned to climb the stairs, his bag slung over his shoulder, and I didn’t have a chance to hide. When he saw me, his expression was blank. I smiled sheepishly at him, but he just exhaled and came up the stairs.

  “Good morning, Alice,” Peter said louder than he needed to, letting Jack know that I had been spying on them. “You should’ve come down and said hello.”

  “I just woke up.”

  “Mmm, yes, I’m sure you did.” He opened his bedroom door, but I stopped him.

  “Peter, I’m really sorry,” I said.

  “You’re not the one that needs to apologize.” He looked at me for a minute, his eyes uncharacteristically vulnerable, then he glanced down the steps. The French doors off the kitchen suddenly slammed shut as Jack went outside with the dog. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get some rest. It was a very long flight.”

  “It sounds like it.” I attempted to make a joke, but he just turned and went into his room, closing his bedroom door quietly behind him.

  I sighed and went downstairs. Jack’s irritation was no longer just directed at Peter. Somehow me apologizing to him was a slight against Jack. I hated the idea that they were two teams, and I always had to pick one side or I’d be deemed an enemy.

  Jack opened the shades over the French doors to step outside, and bright sunlight streamed in. I hadn’t slept very much to begin with, and the sight of the sun made me want to curl up in bed again.

  Outside, Jack ignored his own fatigue. He stood on the stone patio, his hands shoved in his pockets, and watched Matilda root around for some long gone animal. It was wonderfully cold when I stepped out, contrasting with the warm fall day depicted out the window.

  “So it was a long flight?” I asked, wrapping my arms around me as I walked up to him.

  “Yeah, but I’m sure Peter feels much better now that you apologized to him.”

  “He deserves an apology,” I bristled.

  “How can you even say that?” Jack whirled on me, his face contorted with pain and confusion. “After everything you’ve been through-”

  “We both know what happened. You don’t need to rehash it every time I mention Peter’s name.” A cool breeze picked up, blowing my hair across my face, and I pushed it back behind my ears.

  “This is just so ridiculous!” He shook his head. “Shit happened, stuff that I apparently can’t talk about, but it happened. And still, you wanted to go off and risk your life to rescue him, and I said fine. For some stupid reason, I let you go.”

  “You don’t ‘let’ me do anything, and you know it,” I glared at him.

  “Whatever. I didn’t protest. You said you wanted to go, for… God, why, Alice? Why would you want to do that? Why are you always defending him? He doesn’t deserve any apology! He doesn’t even deserve to be alive! And you just bring him back here like nothing ever happened? And for that, I am supposed to apologize to him?” Jack looked at me incredulously. “That is so fucked up! I love you! Why do I need to tell him I’m sorry for that when I’m not?”

  “Because he loved me too, and I wasn’t yours!” I shouted, and he flinched.

  He looked away from me, squinting up at the sun, and I wasn’t sure if that was the right thing to say. Rubbing the back of his neck, he fell silent for a minute.

  “I saw you first,” Jack mumbled.

  “You cannot use that as an argument.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m not the last piece of pizza. I’m a person, and I chose you. You have me. He doesn’t. Peter has nothing, and he’s your brother. And I know before all this, you cared about him, too. So now he lost me and you. I’m not sorry that I love you, but I am sorry that he had to get hurt in the process.”

  “I know you’re right,” Jack said thickly. “But I can’t forgive him. Fighting for you, I understand. Trying to kill me, I totally get that. But when he tried to kill you… I can’t ever forgive him for that, and I shouldn’t have to.”

  I touched his arm gently, and his blue eyes were swimming when he looked at me. I chewed my lip,
trying to decide whether or not I should tell him. I felt like I was breaking Peter’s confidence, but if it could get the two of them to stop hating each other, then maybe it was worth it.

  “Peter never tried to kill me.”

  “I was there!” Jack was irritated. “You can’t tell me that didn’t happen.”

  “No, it did, but not exactly the way you think. When Peter bit me, he knew you were in the house. You had fought before when you thought he was going to hurt me. He knew you’d never let something happen to me,” I explained quietly. “He was counting on you to rush in and save me, and he thought that you’d be too angry to let him live. Peter wasn’t trying to kill me; he was trying to kill himself.”

  “No…” Jack shook his head and his face completely fell. “No. That’s not… Because if he did that, that would mean he…”

  Realization flashed across his face, and he looked at everything in a new light. All the things Peter did had seemed cold and cruel were all really for me, and even Jack. Peter had been trying to let me go since the day he met me because he thought I’d be happier without him.

  Jack never let himself believe that Peter loved me because he loved Peter. He respected him and never wanted to go against him. Then I came into the picture, and the only way Jack could reconcile his own feelings for me was by assuming Peter could never feel the same way.

  Jack truly believed he was the one that was meant to be with me, not Peter, and that made all his actions and behavior okay. But if Peter loved me as much as he did, then Jack suddenly became the villain in his story instead of the hero.

  “Jack, you know how much I love you.”

  I reached out for him, and he pulled away. He exhaled shakily, so I reached out for his hand again, and this time he let me take it. He wouldn’t look at me, so I moved so I was standing in front of him.

  “I really do love you, and this is the right choice. And we didn’t do anything wrong, not really. I mean… I don’t know. What else were we supposed to do?”

  “I don’t know,” Jack admitted quietly. He was still looking down so his eyes wouldn’t meet mine, and I touched his cheek.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you like this. I just…” I trailed off. He felt so sad and guilty. I hated to see him this way. “I just wanted you to go easier on Peter. You two should be able to get along.”

  “No, you’re right.” He forced a smile at me, but it barely counted as one, so he let it go. “I will try.”

  “Why don’t you come inside with me?” I asked. I wanted to stay with him all day, but the sun was really starting to get to me. It was this heavy sort of weakness that just barreled down on me like a wet blanket.

  “No, I wanna stay out here just a little bit longer. Matilda’s still having fun,” Jack said. Matilda had actually sprawled out on the patio, basking in the sun for warmth, but I didn’t argue with him.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked and wished he would just look at me.

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” he nodded, but he was lying.

  “I love you,” I whispered, hoping that would help somehow.

  “I know, and I love you, too.” Without looking at me, he gave me a quick kiss on the forehead, and stepped away from me. He had never kissed me so brusquely before. “Mattie, come on! Where’s your ball?” Matilda jumped up to start searching for it, and Jack went to help her.

  I glared up at the sun before going back in the house. If it wasn’t for the stupid light, I would’ve stayed out there with him. But the bright noon sun was too draining, so I walked back into the house. The dark sanctuary of the kitchen brought relief, and I sighed. I had no idea if I had done the right thing, but anything that made Jack that upset was probably bad.

  I spent more of the afternoon pretending to sleep than actually sleeping. To fill the time, I texted Jane and tossed and turned a lot. I listened for Jack to come in the house, but he never did. Bobby got up to eat, but everyone else was sound asleep. Except for Jack, who was gone.

  Finally, I gave up on getting anymore rest and got out of bed. I texted him to ask where he was, but he didn’t answer. I was starting to think I was a pariah the way nobody answered my calls or texts.

  When Bobby walked by on his way to his room, he smelled overly delicious. My bedroom door was shut, and the scent of his hot blood wafted in. It had been a few days since I ate, and vampires could go much longer than that. I had to get my hunger in control if I ever planned on being with Jack.

  So as hungry as Bobby made me, I swallowed it back and decided to clear my head with a nice long shower. I had just started gathering my clothes when I felt the warmth in my chest, meaning Jack was nearby, and a moment later I heard him bounding up the stairs.

  “Hey.” Jack poked his head in, still hanging onto the bedroom door. “Are you up?”

  “Yeah, I was just about to take a shower,” I held up my clothes for him to see. “Unless you wanted something?”

  “No, go ahead and shower. But do you wanna watch a movie after?”

  “Yeah, sure,” I shrugged. “Have you slept yet?” It was after six, and as far as I knew, he hadn’t gotten any sleep since he got back.

  “Nah, I’m okay,” he shook his head. “I’ll talk to you after your shower then.”

  “Uh, yeah, okay?”

  With that, he left, shutting the bedroom door behind him. I stood there, holding my clothes in my arms, trying to figure out what was going on. I heard him knocking on the door across the hall. He got more nervous, which made me nervous, so I decided to wait to see how this turned out before I got in the shower.

  “Yeah?” Peter opened his bedroom door sounding crabby, but that was Peter.

  “I went to the video store and I, uh, rented Brideshead Revisited. I know you really like it, and I thought you might want to watch it with us. Me and Alice, I mean,” Jack said.

  “Um… sure.” Peter sounded taken back, and so was I.

  “Alice’s taking a shower, so it’ll be a little bit,” Jack said.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay.” There was kind of an awkward silence. Jack must’ve finally excused himself because Peter shut his door, and I heard Jack running back down the stairs.

  In the shower, I sing very loudly (today it was the theme to Golden Girls), but even over the sound of my voice and the water running, I could still hear Mae screaming. This would later prove to be a godsend, when Peter explained to me that Brideshead Revisited is an eleven-hour long period piece that originally aired on the BBC in the 1980’s.

  At the time, however, Mae’s desperate pleas were enough to scare the hell out of me.

  - 18 –

  Once I got out of the shower, I could hear well enough to ascertain that Mae wasn’t in immediate danger, and Ezra was trying to calm her. But something was the matter and I didn’t like it. I threw on a pair of my sweats and one of Jack’s oversized tee shirts, and hurried out the door.

  “I wouldn’t go down there if I were you.” That was Bobby’s word of advice. He stood just outside of Milo’s door with a hoodie wrapped tightly around him. “It doesn’t sound pretty.”

  “You aren’t bloody listening to me, Ezra! You never listen to me!” Mae shouted from downstairs.

  “What’s going on?” I asked Bobby, hoping to gain some insight on the situation before diving into it.

  “I don’t really know. Milo and Jack left on a blood run about fifteen minutes ago, and Mae and Ezra started fighting a few minutes after that,” Bobby shrugged.

  A blood run meant that we were getting low on bag blood at the house, and they had gone to get some from a blood bank. My stomach grumbled at just the thought of blood, but Mae was yelling so much, I ignored it.

  “Don’t tell me to calm down! I am not going to calm down!” Mae continued after Ezra mistakenly suggested she relax a bit. “This isn’t something that we should be reasonable about! This is life and death, Ezra!”

  “I know that, Mae! That’s exactly why we need to think about this!�
� Ezra raised his voice, but there was nothing angry about it. He was just trying to be heard over her. “But everyone else in the house doesn’t need to hear us yelling.”

  “I don’t care who hears anything!” Mae yelled, followed quickly by the sound of something glass smashing, like a vase. Matilda barked in response, and Mae snapped at her to shut up.

  “See?” Bobby whispered, but the things that made him cower were exactly the reasons I felt like I had to intervene. Peter was still in his room, trying to sleep from the slow sound of his heartbeat, so that left me as the only one to help out.

  I went downstairs and found Matilda looking as worried as a dog can look. Mae stood to one side of the living room, and she was even worse than yesterday. Her hair was a frizzy mess, and her skin was blotchy from yelling and crying so much. She hadn’t changed her pajamas in days.

  Glass was shattered all over floor in front of her. A heavy glass statue of a swan had sat on the mantle, and she would’ve had to have thrown it very hard to make it shatter like that.

  “You’ve woken Alice,” Ezra told Mae, almost tiredly. He stood on the far side of the room across from her, wearing silk pajama pants and a tee shirt. Apparently, they had started fighting immediately after waking up.

  “No, I was awake. I just got out of the shower.” I tugged at my hair to demonstrate. It dripped wet down my back since I hadn’t had a chance to dry it.

  “I don’t care if I wake her! I don’t care if I wake anybody!” Mae raised her head to the ceiling as if to wake anybody else that might be sleeping.

  “Will you knock it off? This isn’t about them. This isn’t their fault,” Ezra said.

  “How is it not about them?” She pointed at me, but she refused to look at me. “This is completely about them! They’re why you won’t do this!”

  “No, that’s not true. They have no bearing on this,” he shook his head.