Mia Luce

Dangerous

Jack and I crossed the green front lawn. His walk was so graceful, I was jealous. I was hardly able to keep my eyes off of him, it was like he was a magnet.

He opened the passenger door of his streamlined corvette for me, just like a regular gentleman. I climbed in carefully, trying not to get fingerprints on anything. Everything in the interior was stylish and modern; there was a shiny GPS on the dashboard, and the smooth upholstery was a rich caramel color. In a split second he was next to me, turning the key in the ignition, although I didn’t remember the door opening or him getting in.

I stubbornly resisted the urge to gasp or give any sign that his sudden appearance had surprised me. Instead I said, “Well, I think you’ve successfully won over my mom.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Jack replied artlessly as we pulled out of the driveway. I was glad the top was up on his car, because it was cold outside and I would freeze.          

“Don’t play dumb. You charmed her.”

He continued to stare straight ahead, as if I wasn’t there. “She seems like a nice person. A good mother.”

“Mm-hmm,” I mumbled. Rows and rows of little houses flew by, and I watched them out my window. Most were made of wood and painted cute pastel colors, with tiny gardens and wind chimes and fuzzy welcome mats. “So,” I started up again, more hesitant. “You said you were going to explain everything on Friday, and here we are…”

“Can’t you be patient?” he asked, snickering.

“I’ve been patient all week,” I complained, unable to keep my lip from sticking out like a child’s. “Now it’s time for you to confess.”

“What am I supposed to confess, by the way?” asked Jack conversationally.

“Your secret,” I said simply.

He let his stare flicker to me for a moment, and his face was alarmed. “What makes you think I have a secret?” He chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. I didn’t buy it.

“I’ve been trying to figure everything out lately,” I told him, watching his carefully composed face. “The way I see it, it’s obvious that you’re… abnormal.”

He wasn’t abashed by this statement, but gave me a funny look, like I was the abnormal one. “Really? Do you still think I have anemia?” he mumbled, amused.

My face reddened a bit. “Well, no. You’re not like any one I’ve ever met,” I admitted. “You’re quiet, and strange… and… and-”

“And what?”

“And… beautiful,” I murmured, hanging my head. Now I felt like an idiot.

He sighed and was silent for a moment. “This is the only conclusion you came to?”

“No,” I said, trying not to look him in the eye. “I have a theory about why you never talk to anyone. You don’t want anyone to find out your secret, whatever it is. But I was just curious about…” I paused, embarrassed. “I was wondering why you talk to me and not anyone else.”

Jack slowly turned back to the wheel. “I don’t know why.”

This was not the answer I had hoped for. Then again, I wasn't sure what I had wanted him to say.

We were now on a highway surrounded on both sides by rocky slopes and trees. Jack’s eyes raked the area, and we both waited for the other to say something.

“Green is a beautiful color on you,” he sighed.

The blush returned to my cheeks. “Stop distracting me. It isn’t working.”

He chuckled. Obviously it did work, because I couldn’t remember what I had been talking about. I crossed my arms and nestled myself into the leather upholstery. My curiosity was growing like a wildfire. I was dying to know what the big secret was. Would it be… bad? Would he confess he’s a murderer wanted by the FBI and he’s hiding out in Oakridge? No. That wasn’t him. He was a nice person, my intuition told me that. Unfortunately, intuition didn’t help me out with anything else.

Maybe he was working for a reality TV show called, “Supermodels in Disguise,” where three gorgeous supermodels pretend to live together in a small town and confuse everyone living there. Maybe a camera would pop up from the backseat and the cameraman would explain everything and he and Jack would have a good laugh at my expense.

Jack peered at me as if he somehow heard me thinking about him, but turned back to the wheel before I could even look in his direction. His pallid skin was almost translucent in the light reflected from the window shield, since the rain clouds had begun to thin out. I could see faint blue veins in his wrist. His dark, satiny hair was barely jostled by the air coming out of the vents.

I tore my eyes off of him and concentrated on the faded yellow hash marks painted on the concrete road. Should I really be in this car, alone with him? Shouldn’t I be wary of him, like the rest of Oakridge’s population? In fact, I should be avoiding him entirely after that little fainting scene. That’s what any sane person would do.

But I had never really considered myself a sane person. I had always thought myself a bit off, just a bit different than your average human being.

Jack didn’t seem to be an average human being, but he didn’t seem off, either. There was just something about him… something I couldn’t quite place… that drew me toward him, even if he wasn’t drawn to me. Something besides his beauty and reputation as mysterious… but I couldn’t grasp what it was.

You’re being ridiculous, I snapped at myself. There’s a logical explanation for his behavior, you just have to find a way to get it out of him.

The drive to wherever he was taking me wasn’t that long. After a few more minutes he took an exit and we were suddenly in some foreign city.

“Where are we?” I asked, sitting up straighter to look out the window.

“Rockland,” he answered. We passed a busy intersection and came to what was probably the downtown section of the city. We were surrounded by upscale shops and shiny cars, although Jack’s had to be the shiniest of the bunch. He parallel parked easily between a Prius and a BMW and we got out of the car.

I looked up and examined the place excitedly. It was taller than it was wide and made of white brick, with darkly tinted windows and silk curtains on the inside. The sign was a single word, “Luna.”

“Luna,” I said, as if confirming that it was indeed the restaurant’s name.

“Our table is waiting,” Jack mumbled from behind me. He was close, so close that I could feel his breath on my neck. It was icy, like a gust of chilly wind.

He held the door open for me, of course. Inside it was darker, to set a cozy mood, I guessed. The walls were oak panels and the floors were marble, smooth and glisteningly white. A porcelain fountain in the middle of the restaurant, surrounded by tables, added a trickling sound to the background noise of plates and forks chinking and low murmurs of conversation. Under the surface of the water, pennies and nickels glimmered dully. The area we were standing in was separated from the rest by a frosted glass divider, and there was a beautiful chandelier over our heads. My black flats met a soft oriental rug.

“Wow. This is really nice,” I commented, absorbing in the place’s welcoming atmosphere.

“Yes,” Jack agreed. “Unlike Chris, I like to put a little effort into my dates.”

“Jack, don’t be mean,” I chastised him.

He grinned and looked straight at me with his glorious blue eyes. “I’m sorry. I just can’t get the image of Chris covered in salad dressing and lettuce out of my mind.”

I laughed freely, my nerves easing up. “It’s too bad I didn’t stick around to see it.”

He led me, still, laughing, up to the host, who was stationed behind a small podium.

“Do you have a reservation?” the man asked politely flipping open the cover of a small pocketbook.

“Yes,” said Jack. “It should be under Lewis.”

The host turned to the “L” section. “Oh yes, here you are. Right this way, please.”

He led us to the farthest corner of the restaurant, where only two of the twenty or so tables were occupied. I tried not to act surprised. The man gestured toward a small, silk-cushioned booth. I took off my jacket and sidled into the seat, across from Jack. He beamed at me like I had chosen to sit next to him on a school bus. The host went through the routine of welcoming us and describing the specials, gave us two menus, and left.

When he was finally gone, I began my interrogation immediately.

“So.” I put my hands under my chin and stared at him intently, trying to be mildly intimidating. It didn’t work; Jack chuckled at my weak attempt. I sighed. “You promised to explain everything. You have to tell me!”

“Tell you what, exactly?” he responded playfully.

“The answer to my question.”

“You haven’t asked me a question yet.”

I exhaled sharply, annoyed. He looked amused. “Fine. Question number one. Why is your skin so cold?”

His mischievous smile faded, and he mumbled, “I thought it would be obvious by now.”

I wrinkled my nose in dismay. “Jack, you’re killing me.”

“I don’t know how to answer that,” he continued.

I stared, frustrated, trying to figure out why he was so suddenly uneager to talk. “Whatever,” I said dismissively. “We’ll come back to that later. Now I want to know why you were really following me last Friday at the movies."

Now he looked frustrated. “I already told you why I followed you!”

“Not really.”

“Yes, really.”

“All you said was that you were worried because I’m so unobservant.”

He mumbled something I couldn’t hear.

“Why were you so convinced I was going to hurt myself?” I asked.

He looked away, his pale face impassive.

“Does my clumsiness bother you?” I prodded.

“It’s not that it bothers me… it worries me.” His eyes seemed to darken as he said this.

Once again, I wondered why he even cared. I decided to drop the conversation about me and my uncoordination, and move on.

“Am I allowed to guess?” I asked suddenly.

He looked taken aback. “Guess what? My secret?”

I pointed at him victoriously. “So you do have a secret!”

He raised his eyebrows. “Did I say that?”

I knew it was true by his expression. Ha ha, I win. “Okay. I’m going to start from the beginning,” I told him.

He nodded, still trying to act casual and uncaring.

I took a breath. “Your name is Jack Lewis, is it not?”

He laughed. “Is this a police interrogation?”

“Answer the question,” I said seriously.

“You are correct,” he answered, grinning.

“And you live in Oakridge, Maine?”

He smirked. “Actually I live just outside city limits.”

“And you are a senior at Oakridge High.”

“Yes.”

“You are eighteen years old,” I stated, rather than asked.

He hesitated, and averted his eyes. “No.”

“Nineteen?” I suggested. There were plenty of nineteen year olds, it just depended on when you started kindergarten.

“No.”

“Seventeen?” My voice was incredulous.

“No,” he said, folding his hands on the table.

“You can’t be twenty,” I noted, growing more shocked every second.

He didn’t say anything, but kept his head down. A shadow fell over his face.

“How old are you?” I demanded.

He slowly looked up, and I saw pain in his features. This was it. This was what I had waiting for all week.

“Well…” he started. “I’m physically eighteen.” He watched me carefully as my eyes narrowed and my expression changed from curiosity to confusion.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked softly, aware that a waiter had just walked by.

“It means I’m not who you think I am.”

I blinked. What did he think I think he is? Am I supposed to think what he thinks he is?

“Then… who are you?” I whispered.

“Hello, my name is Morgan, and I’ll be your server tonight!”

We suddenly jerked away from each other; I hadn’t realized we were both leaning across the table. A tall waitress with wavy brown hair was standing over us. I took a huge breath, trying to steady my crazy heart rate.

“Have you decided on drinks?” Morgan-The-Waitress asked, smiling happily. She reminded me of Vanessa, for some reason. She seemed to enjoy her job.

“Water, please,” Jack said stiffly.

“Me too,” I added.

“Can I start you off with some bruschetta or fresh artichoke dip?”          

I shook my head, staring down at the polished table top.

“No thank you,” Jack told her. She scribbled on her little notepad and hurried off.

There was silence for a long moment and we both stared at each other. Each trying to figure the other one out.

“Continue,” I said finally.

“Before I do,” he mumbled, surprising me, “you must make me a promise.”

“Yes?”

“You won’t scream, faint, run away, or any combination of the three, as you are prone to do.”

“Okay, but-”

“And,” he interrupted. “You have to keep your voice down while we’re discussing this. It isn’t something I want passersby to hear.”

I was becoming more and more worried. Did I even want to know? “Okay, but-”

“And last… you can never tell anyone. Ever. Not your parents, not your friends.”

“Okay, okay!” I cried. “I promise! But is it really that serious?”

He lowered his head and sighed.

I hesitated. “Tell me.”

He gave me a very small, charming smile. “You honestly don’t know? I thought it would be easy.”

“Jack!” I whined, surrendering.

“Just think about it, Campbell. I’m sure it’s not that hard.”

I gazed at the wall behind him, struggling to come to some sort of conclusion. He grimaced, and then I saw them again: his pointy canines…

Okay, I admit that maybe that should have clued me in, but I was so determined to find a logical answer that I wasn’t considering the illogical.

Morgan-The-Waitress took our orders and brought us two dinner salads. When she left we both stared at our bowls, the forks next to us untouched. We sat like that for a while.

“Why aren’t you eating? He asked me finally.

I picked up a fork and stabbed a piece of lettuce savagely. “Why aren’t you?” I demanded.

He shrugged, and raised his eyebrows.

I let the chunk of lettuce fall back into the bowl. “Can I ask you something?”

He took a breath. “Sure.”

I took a bigger breath. “This may sound stupid…”

He shrugged.

“And ridiculous…”

He raised his eyebrows.

“So don’t laugh.”

He stared, tense, his blue eyes hard.

“Are… are you… human?” I whispered.

“I thought this question would come up,” he sighed.

When he didn’t say anything more, and the silence began to ring in my ears, I knew what his answer was. No. The answer was no. My hands began to shake and I could hear myself breathing raggedly. Short bursts of air went in and out of my lungs.
         
Everything had suddenly clicked in my mind. The two sharp teeth, the fact that he wasn’t eating, the sunburn! It all made sense, in a nonsensical way.

“No… no,” I whispered. “That’s not possible.” I said this to myself, not to him.

He looked up from his salad slowly, dread in his eyes.

“Oh my God,” I choked out. “You’re… no… it’s impossible!” I couldn’t speak anymore. A tear rolled down my cheek, and I put my elbows on the table and my forehead in my palms. I was so confused that I was crying.

I guess I had known it all along, but I can’t believe it took me so long to figure out. It all fit together like a simple puzzle for a two-year-old.

“Campbell,” he said slowly, keeping watch on my expression. Then he whispered, “Do you know what I am?”

I gazed at him. “I think so,” I murmured, nodding carefully, slightly terrified.

“What am I?” he asked softly.          

I stammered. “Y-you’re a… you’re a…” Then, I decided to just spit it out. “Vampire.”

He only stared. “Does that answer all your questions?”

I couldn’t speak. Everything I knew had suddenly changed. There was no reality anymore. My stomach churned sickeningly.

He inhaled deeply. “Yes. I’m a vampire.”

The world around me was abruptly brought to a standstill. Just hearing him say the word, confirming it, sent my mind into a frenzy. A billion thoughts raced through my head, and I didn’t know which were okay to say aloud. More tears came down, and my head swayed dizzily.

“Crazy…” I finally whispered absentmindedly, my thoughts still swirling.

His face was very hard to look at. There was so much sadness.

“Campbell, I’m so sorry,” he murmured. “I shouldn’t have brought you here. I’m so sorry for putting you in danger. It’s all my fault.”

He made to stand up, but I suddenly lunged at him and grabbed his hard shoulders with both hands. He froze at my unexpected close contact. I recoiled slightly when my hands felt the sudden iciness of his skin, like I had been stung, but I didn’t let go of him.

“Jack,” I whispered. He sank back into his seat, shocked. “Jack. Look at me. I’m not afraid of you. Okay? I’m fine, see? I’m fine.” I said, more to myself.

“No,” he said stonily. “Campbell, you should be afraid!”

His eyes were so intense and his expression so dark that for a moment I was. He looked almost dangerous. He was dangerous. Why was I sitting here? Why wasn’t I running? I felt a thrill of fear and my spine rippled icily. “I’m not,” I said, lying. “Just… explain.”

He looked down as he said, “Yes, vampires exist. Yes, I do live on blood.” The word sent chills through my veins.

“You… drink blood?” I whispered, horrified.

“In a way,” he admitted.

“Who’s blood?”

“My father has a friend who works in a morgue,” he told me. “We- my family and I, I mean- we don’t hunt humans. We have boundaries. Rules.”

I was shaking uncontrollably now. “So you don’t… kill people?” My voice was fearful and small.

“Never.” he paused, watching me for signs of a meltdown. “The people are already dead of natural causes when Alex’s friend gets to them,” he added, trying to reassure me.

I just stared.

“You see my teeth?” he asked, pointing to his two canines. “Ah, you’ve noticed.”          

I nodded, and said in hushed tones, “What about your skin? And the sunburn…”

“We’re sensitive to sunlight,” he mumbled.

“So you don’t burst into flames, or… anything like that.” I assumed, gazing at my napkin.

“No. The sun can’t do us any real damage. It’s just… very uncomfortable,” he said. “That’s why you normally don’t find a vampire in the desert.”

“What about garlic?” I asked, feeling stupid.

He smiled, and I drew back a little bit. “One of those ridiculous myths. But garlic breath does repel me somewhat.”

It took me a minute to realize that he was joking. Humor doesn’t work in some situations.

“And while we’re on the subject…” he began, leaning back a little. “I can’t turn into a bat. I don’t sleep in a coffin. I can see myself in the mirror, and if you took a picture of me, I would be in it. Wooden stakes, crucifixes, holy water, and silver can’t kill me. Fire can, and so can another vampire. Otherwise, we’re immortal.”

“Im-immortal?“ I choked, feeling faint. Holy crap.

“Yes. I only look eighteen. A vampire freezes at the age they were when they became a vampire. I was born in 1753.”

I said nothing and gave him a desperate look.

“Are you okay?” he asked gently. “I’m surprised at how quickly you’re accepting this.”

“I’m fine… yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” I blubbered, my voice a bit unconvincing and weaker than I wanted it to be. “So Hazel and Bronwyn… are…”

“The V-word,” he prompted.

“Sure.”

“Yes.” He put his arms on the table. “My parents, too. Oh, and another thing.”

“There’s more?”

“I can see the future. That’s how I knew about your ankle, and the Physics project.”

“Oh.” Well, that explains… half of it.

He rested his head on his hand, as if he was finished. “So. I bet you have a lot of questions. Start with the most important one.”

I was confused. “Which one is that?”

He shrugged.

I had no idea where to start. “So you don’t… attack… people?”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Why?” I asked.

“That’s how Alex was taught. He’s the oldest.”

“Oh.” I was still puzzled. “But you’re around humans all day…"

He chuckled. “It's very hard. We have to be constantly on our guard, or else we might accidentally crush someone’s fingers instead of shaking their hand. But you shouldn’t worry at all, Campbell. We’re very good at self-discipline. You could gush blood right now and I could stop myself from… losing control. I’ve never lost control. We take painstaking precautions to live with humans.  If I ever hurt anyone, I don’t think I would be able to live with myself.”

This relieved me a tiny bit. But not immensely.

“Are there… other ones?”

He watched a couple rise from their table and leave the restaurant before he answered. “Maybe… three hundred in the world. Not that many, once you think about it. We’re dwindling.”

“Are they all the same?” I questioned. “I mean, are they careful around people?”

He sighed. “Sadly, no. I think we’re the only ones besides two that live in Canada.”

I shivered.

“We’re the only vampires in New England,” he said, and I took large breaths. “Most live in Europe, Canada, and Greenland. So in other words, they’re nowhere near you.”

I started to say something, but he held up a hand in warning. The waitress had just rounded the corner with our food. I had forgotten about that… food. I was starving. She placed two chicken sandwiches on our table, and left.

Jack laid back into his seat comfortably. “We don’t normally eat food,” he explained. “We can, but it has no flavor. Just tasteless matter.”

I stared at my sandwich, feeling guilty. “Why did you take me to dinner, then?”

He chuckled. “I can’t let you starve.”

***

He was quiet as I ate, and watched me with bright interest. His own plate was never disturbed. When I was done, he began talking again.

Thankfully, we talked about normal things. I was surprised to find myself having a good time. I wondered if I had just imagined the whole thing about him being a… V-word. It didn’t really matter to me. He was the same person I met last week. Throughout the evening, I found myself forgetting everything he had said. He seemed so human. It was hard to think that he wasn’t.

“Hmm…” Jack mumbled. He was running out of questions to ask me. “Have you ever been ice skating?”

“I went once. I fell a lot,” I admitted.

“I’ll have to take you one day. Hazel and Bronwyn skate all the time. It’s a hobby. We’re immortal… so… we don’t have anything else to do.”

It was the first time he had mentioned his… abnormality since I started eating. I nodded, remembering his reply when I asked him about his car. His family did have a lot of money. It was just something that built up over time. I knew it would take me a while to get used to all this. Every once in a while he would surprise me again by saying something like, “Your mom will be asleep on the couch when you get home. Just saying.”

I guess I was in shock, or dreaming. Or both.

When Morgan-The-Waitress came back with our check, Jack flashed me a smile and pulled out a shiny silver credit card. Gazing at his two partially hidden canines made me dizzy. I clutched the table. He laid his credit card on the little tray and pushed it to the side of the table.

“Bronwyn and Hazel will probably want to meet you.”

“And how old are they?” I asked. “Older than eighteen, I’m guessing.”

“Bronwyn’s only ten months younger than me. Hazel was born in eighteen forty-six.”

“So you really are related to them?”

“Well… I’m related to Bronwyn.”

I knit my eyebrows. “And Hazel-”

“Doesn’t like to talk about it,” he interrupted.

I was truly bewildered. “Umm… okay. So… you’re not adopted.”

“No. Vampires can't have children. If you are bitten by a vampire, but not killed, you become one. We were all human... Alex, Lyra, Bronwyn and I, when we were... bitten."

We had to be quiet again when Morgan-The-Waitress came to collect the check. She rang it up, brought back Jack’s credit card, and wished us a good evening. We put on our jackets and headed for the door.

“I hope you had a good time,” Jack said, then laughed, as if hearing how ridiculous that sounded.

“I did,” I said.

“Even though you’re terrified of me now.”

“No,” I protested, while we stepped out into the chilly night air. The scent of pines was wafting through the city from the encompassing woods. “Jack… what you told me didn’t change anything. You’re the same person, and I’m not afraid of you. I’m actually relieved. I thought the secret would be much worse.”

He smirked. “What could be worse than discovering your date is a vampire?”

“Plenty of things.” I counteracted. “Do you want to know why I’m not scared of you?”

“Why?”

“Because you told me not to be. You said you would never hurt me. I trust you.”

“Campbell…” he began, helping me into his car. “That does mean a lot to me. But you’re too brave for your own good. You don’t have to do this. I’ll give you a choice. You never have to talk to me again, if you don’t want to.”

He started the engine. I thought.

“I don’t care if you’re a…” I swallowed hard, “vampire.” My cheeks burned. I turned to hide my blushing from him.

I didn’t say anything else as he drove. I rested my head on the back of the seat, my eyes closed, hardly moving. I was very aware of his every movement. He turned the steering wheel and pressed the pedals in silence. I wasn’t sure if I had fallen asleep or not, but after ten minutes, I was yanked back into reality.

We had reached Elm Street, and Vanessa’s house was seconds away. He spoke.

“You’re the first person I’ve ever told,” he muttered, looking vaguely at his hands. “I don’t know why, but it feels nice.”

I smiled at him drowsily.

Suddenly I saw a blur of color, and he was tapping on my window from outside.

“What the… how did you…” I sputtered.

“Vampire,” he smirked, and opened my door. He led me up to Vanessa’s porch. The sound of the TV could be heard from inside, but the windows were dark.

“I’ll see you on Monday, I guess,” I whispered.

He laughed. “If you haven’t changed your name and switched states, you mean.”

I rolled my eyes. “Goodnight, Jack.”

“Goodnight, Campbell.”

I looked down at my hand by my side. He reached forward and touched it softly. His skin had just touched mine for a fleeting moment. It was such a small action, but yet it felt so… intimate.

He took one last look at me, descended the porch steps, and got gracefully into his car. I waved when he drove away, then opened the front door.

There was Vanessa lying on the couch rolled up into another blanket burrito, fast asleep, just like Jack had said. I smiled faintly. Her mouth was wide open and she was snoring.

All of the sudden, the night’s events seemed to build up inside me. I swayed dizzily as I entered the living room. I stood over the rug at the door, the room spinning, feeling nauseous. Vanessa stirred on the sofa and opened her eyes.

Then, I fainted again