Blood Orange Soda: Paranormal Romance (15 page)

Heavenly!

“Are you going to introduce me to your friend?” my mom asks, standing behind me.

Before I say anything, Shelby reaches out her hand. “Hi, Mrs. Hunter, I’m Shelby.”

I steal a glance at my mom’s eyes. I can always read her moods by how intensely she stares, or if she rolls her eyes. She’s studies Shelby, soaking in the details of her clothing as if she’s in a police lineup.

“Nice to meet you, Shelby. Darius has told me nice things about you,” my mom says with dagger eyes.

Have I? I don’t recall telling my mom very much about Shelby. And what’s with the tough parental attitude?

“We’re picking up Angel and Weezer, and then driving to Starbucks to hang out and do homework,” I say, grabbing my laptop bag by the door.

“What time will you be home?” Mom asks.

“How about eleven?”

“No later.”

Shelby smiles, but I know she’s unsure about my mom. And my mom is obviously nervous about how I’ll behave with this new girl in my life.

We step outside and I close the door and breathe a sigh of relief. That meet and greet wasn’t as awkward as it could’ve been.

“I like your mom, Darius. She seems…nice,” Shelby says politely, as we walk toward a BMW in my driveway.

“She’s not in a great mood. She’s got V2, and sometimes she’s not herself.”

“Ohmygod, Darius, I’m sorry to hear that.” Shelby opens her door.

“It’s been pretty rough,” I say, opening the passenger door before I change the subject. “Nice car!”

“It’s my dad’s. I prefer the MINI,” Shelby says.

The leather seat is warm, and Shelby is next to me at the wheel. This new BMW looks out of place in the driveway of my family’s 1930s railroad ranch home. She obviously comes from money. She starts the engine, and the heated vents waft her perfume through the vehicle.

“You look different tonight,” she says.

“Really? Different how?”

“You look older tonight. You growing a beard?” she asks, touching my left cheek.

“Oh, I use a dull razor.” I pull down the visor, acting as if I’m noticing my five o’clock shadow for the first time.

“I love it,” Shelby says, as we back down the driveway.

This is how many of our greetings will be as we both transform into Vampires. We’ll notice changes and new details that weren’t there before. Every date has the potential to reveal something dramatically new about each other.

“Who should we pick up next?” she asks.

“Angel lives around the corner,” I say. “But before we get to Angel’s, I want to ask you a couple of questions.”

She slows the car and looks at me. “Sure...”

“Would it be okay if I went to the Vampire Club meetings with you?”

“Of course, why not?”

“I dunno, I want to make sure you’re cool with it, since we’re going out. It might get weird. And I want to make more friends before my fight with Bao. My uncle Jack says I should have a crew with me.”

“Yeah, attend the Vampire Club meetings whenever you want to,” Shelby says.

“Thanks, and now the other question: Are you okay with me telling Angel tonight that I’m transforming? Weezer already knows.”

“Sure, I guess so. Are you expecting she’ll be disappointed?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Once my closest friends know I’m transforming, I’ll feel better that I’m not keeping secrets from them, except for the fact that I’m speeding up the process with Blood Orange Soda. That detail will remain confidential for a while longer.

“This is Angel’s house up here on the left,” I say to Shelby.

She slows the car and turns into the driveway, with the headlights shining onto the garage. Angel’s house has a large white porch and she’s sitting closely with Weezer on the porch swing. They stand and walk down the steps, and Weezer looks different tonight. His hair isn’t as wild and teased, and he’s not wearing leather, but a jean jacket instead. They both climb into the back seat, laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Shelby asks.

“Ah, it’s an inside joke,” Angel says. “Sorry.”

I turn from the front seat, cranking my neck to look at Weezer. He’s far less Goth and more like a Normal, with his hair tamed and no guyliner. What happened to the anarchist?

“Hey, Darius,” he says, but I notice a trace of faux cool in his greeting.

“Hey, man,” I reply, and turn around to look out the windshield as Shelby drives up the street. Some of the houses on Angel’s block have Halloween decorations, pumpkins and orange lights wrapped around bushes. For me, all of these colors blur into comet streaks of orange and red as we drive through the night. I chugged my nightly dose of Blood Orange Soda just before Shelby arrived, and the buzz is really starting to hit me. Not sure why I decided to drink it before our date, because I could’ve or should’ve taken my dose at bedtime; but I noticed I feel more confident and loose with a little Soda onboard.

Usually Vampires hate how Normals celebrate and commercialize Halloween with all their candy and lawn art. Tonight, for some reason, I’m enjoying the light show. While Shelby, Angel, and Weezer gab about school, I’m soaring weightless in an orange haze.

“Want to, Darius?” Weezer asks, grabbing my shoulder.

“Want to what?”

“You been daydreaming this entire time?” Shelby asks. “Would your band, Two True, play at my T-Party?”

“Ah, I don’t know,” I say. “We’re not ready, are we, Weezer?”

“Ready as we’ll ever be,” he says. “If Haters despise our music, screw ‘em! Haters are gonna hate!”

“Weezer!” Angel howls.

In the mirror on my visor, I see Angel snuggling tighter to him, shoulder to shoulder, her hand on his knee.

“What? We’re a band, we’re artists,” Weezer says. “Most of what we play is punk, it’s dark stuff. And as Darius transforms, our original songs will get even darker, right, bro?”

“As Darius transforms?” Angel repeats. I feel her leaning on the back of my seat. “You’re off the Reds?”

Leave it to Weezer to open his big mouth! Why am I surprised?

“Yeah, several days ago I stopped taking them. It’s no big thing. I was going to tell you tonight.”

“Congratulations, Darius. This is a huge step,” Angel says. “I’m happy for you. That’s exciting.”

“Thanks, Angel,” I say.

I look back at her to see if she’s genuinely happy for me. She moves her hand from Weezer’s knee and pats me on the shoulder. Even though she’s grinning, there’s pain in there somewhere. Maybe I should’ve told her myself when we were alone. I feel terrible that she, of all people, is the last to know about my decision.

The four of us are crowded around a small table at Starbucks, and the coffee grinder drowns out our words. Shelby points out a Popular girl, Chelsea, who she knows from St. Cloud Apollo. She describes her as a “frenemy,” which is really an enemy disguised as a friend—the kind of girl who is nice to you while stabbing you in the back. Angel nods as we listen to Shelby’s gossip, but I know Angel doesn’t like how Shelby labels people from Apollo. Even I wonder if Chelsea would use the same frenemy label for Shelby.
Keep your friends close and keep your frenemies even closer.

To lighten the mood I take my Mac out of my backpack and set it on the table, moving everyone’s drinks aside.

“What’s with the laptop? We writing lyrics tonight?” Weezer asks.

“No, we’re surfing Facebook.”

“BORING!” Weezer says, sipping his café mocha. “Facebook is dead. Nobody uses Facebook anymore.”

“Yeah, put it away, Darius,” Shelby says.

“Our parents use Facebook. We’re creeping on a page of one my mom’s former boyfriends,” I explain.

“Even more BORING!” Weezer says again.

“Why would you care about your mom’s old boyfriend?” Angel asks.

Logging into Facebook, I say, “The man’s name is Jonathan Wurtz, and he’s my mom’s First Bitten.”

“Ohmygod, let me see what he looks like,” Shelby says.

She grabs the laptop and we see Jonathan has a baseball cap on, so we can’t see if he’s balding, but he has blond sideburns.

“Looks like he lives in Chicago. Click on his photo album,” Shelby says.

“What’s so important about your mom’s First Bitten?” Angel asks.

“Oh, God, here we go!” Weezer says, folding his arms. “Vampire minutia.”

“A first bite is a big thing for Vampires?” Shelby says to Angel, with a smidge of condescending up-talk.

Angel rolls her eyes and looks over at Weezer as I click on one of Jonathan’s photo albums, searching for a good close-up of him. Most of his photos are group shots with family and friends. And it looks as if he has two sons that are a couple of years older than me.

“If that’s his wife, she’s beautiful,” I say, pointing to a photo of a woman standing next to Jonathan. They’re both on mountain bikes in a forest.

“Not so BORING; let me see the cougar,” Weezer says, reaching for my laptop, spinning it around so he and Angel can see the photo. “Yeah, that guy married a hottie. Although, I would like to officially state that Darius’ mom is also in the hot category.”

“You’re gross,” Angel says to Weezer.

“Thanks, man,” I say, as he and I pound fists. “Wish I could say the same thing about your mom.”

Shelby squeezes my arm. “Hey, be nice?”

“Why is it such a big deal to be a First Bitten?” Angel asks me.

Before I can answer, Shelby explains to Angel how and why Vampires bite. Because Shelby grew up in a Vampire home like me, she understands the sensitivity of biting someone. It’s interesting to hear this from a girl my age instead of as a dire warning from my mom or Jack. When Shelby gets to the part about true love and submission, I notice tears welling in Angel’s eyes.

“Your mom bit this man, but he never transformed,” she says. “He wasn’t in love with her?”

“He
was
in love with her,” I explain. “But he wasn’t ready to transform, and so he’s lived all these years on the Reds.”

“And he went on to marry somebody else and start his own family?” Shelby says. “Why are we creeping on his page?”

“My mom’s dying. There’s nothing left to do at this point.”

“Your mom wants to say a final goodbye to Jonathan?” Shelby asks.

Now, to my surprise, Weezer sits up and starts lecturing Shelby and Angel.

“No, he’s trying to save his mom’s life. If a Vampire with V2 receives a bite from his or her First Bitten, there’s a chance of permanent remission of the disease. Am I right, Darius?”

“Yes, Jonathan might be able to save her,” I confirm.

“That’s amazing,” Shelby says.

“If it’s true,” Weezer says.

“Of course it’s true; right, Darius?” Angel asks.

“There are all kinds of myths and potions created around curing V2. But that’s bat crap,” Weezer says. “Sorry, Darius, don’t get your hopes up for nothing.”

What’s with Weezer tonight? He’s dressed like a Normal and he has a condescending attitude about anything Vampire tonight. It’s possible he really cares about me and doesn’t want me to get my hopes up, but he’d be more believable if he dressed Goth and quit the whole Normal kid persona.

“My uncle Jack says it doesn’t always work. It’s not foolproof,” I admit. “There’s a chance, though.”

“You’re contacting Jonathan to ask him if he’ll transform into a Vampire so he can bite your mom and save her?” Shelby asks.

“Yeah, I have to try.”

Weezer sighs. “Come on, man—”

“What? I think this is romantic, uniting two long-lost lovers for one more bite,” Shelby says to Weezer. “What do you think, Angel?”

“I don’t see why he shouldn’t at least try,” she says. “But I need to use the restroom, so don’t do anything until I get back.”

“I need to call home,” Shelby says.

Angel walks back to the restroom and Shelby follows behind her before she steps outside to make her phone call. There’s distance between them; they’re not instant best friends.

“What’s with Shelby’s attitude?” Weezer asks.

“Shelby’s attitude?”

“The all-superior Goth princess. Fuggar, please.”

“She’s nervous around Angel, that’s all,” I say. “What’s with the Normal costume?”

“This? Oh, it’s not that Normal,” he says, adjusting his collar.

“It’s
extremely
Normal! You look like you stepped out of a J. Crew store window. You don’t look
Goth at all, mother fuggar!!”

“I’m on a date with Angel, so I toned it down a bit,” Weezer says. “Be chill.”

“You two are dating?” I say with doubt.

“What? You have a girlfriend, why shouldn’t I?”

“Of all the girls you could date, why would you choose Angel?”

“I told you already that I wanted to date a Normal like Angel,” Weezer says. “Why you all up in my business?”

I admit, he’s right. He said he wanted to ask her out. I just never thought he’d muster up the courage to actually do it. I stare at Facebook as if I’m not that interested in their relationship.

“Besides,” he adds, “Angel called me out of the blue. We hung out at the mall the other night and went to a movie.”

Hearing that Angel made the first move actually makes me feel more uncomfortable. How long has she had feelings for him? How come I wasn’t aware of it before now?

“Why the Normal clothing?” I ask again. “Angel is perfectly comfortable around Goths. You don’t have to be somebody you’re not.”