Blood Type (5 page)

July 28

“I love The Market
.
”
I took
a deep breath
,
inhaling the sweet aroma of cut flowers and fresh-baked bread as
John and I
made our way down the center aisle, booths of
goods for sale
tempting us from both sides.

True to his word,
John treated me to my favorite chili and sweet cornbread from one of the market vendors. I was so ravenous I
was
practically foam
ing
at the mouth.

“Chili in summer.”
He raised a brow,
amusement pulling at the corner of his mouth
.

I dug
in with my spoon
, unable to wait until we’d found a place to sit down. “I’d eat this chili even if it was a hundred degrees outside, which,” I added with a thought, “I think it is. And the bread is to die for. I think they mix in a can of creamed corn to make it dense, but the outside is glazed with honey
which makes it all crispy
.
So delicious.”
I took a bite, closing my eyes in ecstasy.

John laughed. “
Tell me something.
Do you take all your meals so seriously?”

“If it involves chili and cornbread, yes.
I’ve never tasted any better than this.
If I were on my deathbed and could have only one last meal, this would be it.
”

John
took my elbow and guided me
to a shady spot under a tree, further away from the crowd. “
I will try to remember that,
”
he said.

“
Do you want some
? I
can
run back and get another spoon
for you
.”

“That’s okay
.
”
He
held up the cardboard pint of strawberries in his hand. “I’m okay with these.”

I shrugged.
“Your loss.”

“So tell me about yourself and your family,” John said as we sat down. He reclined on his elbows and crossed his
long, lean
legs at the ankle.
He had really cute knees.

I rolled my eyes skyward.
“Seriously?
That’s so, oh what’s the word I’m
looking
for . . .
first-date
sort of information.”

But he only paddle-wheeled his hand to get me talking, and so I launched in with the basics: My parents were William (Bill) Ehlert and Rachel Kinsley-Ehlert. I was their only child, born to them after
succumbing
to the pressure from Mom’s parents to bear them at least one grandchild.
(
I ended up being the oldest of
five
grandchildren on that side of the family.
)
My dad was Head Honcho of the town’s biggest accounting firm, and my mother worked
in
real estate.

“That would be Kinsley Real Estate, right?”

“The one and only
.
My great-grandfather started the business. Mom’s specialty is those million-plus-dollar lakeside homes. You know
Thomas and Margaret
Abernathy?”

“
T
hat go
to our school
?”
Then his eyes widened as he made the connection. “Are you saying the big Abernathy mansion
belongs to them
?”

“Yep.
Mom closed the deal on that one when Conrad Abernathy
took the job as
Chief of Police. I guess the family has a lot of
o
ld
m
oney, or something like that
, ‘cause it’s not like he makes a ton with his job
. I heard Mom talking about it once.”

John whistled to show his appreciation. “What else? What about you?”

“Um.
Well, I’m seventeen and I’ll be a senior in the fall,” I said
,
using my spoon as a microphone and speaking
as if I were a contestant on some game show. I
shoved
another bite of chili into my mouth and said around it,
“But of course you knew that already.”

He
laughed
. “Tell me something I
don’t
know.”

I sighed
, racking my brain for anything remotely interesting
. “Olivia
and I have been best friends since we were little.
Her parents moved into the house next to ours when we were just four years old.”

“
That
doesn’t
qualif
y
as news. The entire school knows you
and Olivia
are joined at the hip.
What about
your
other friends?
”

John knew very well who my other friends were,
but
I had a feeling he was baiting me in
to talking about Zach.
And
that was none of his business.

I gave him a coy smile.
“
What about them?
”

John studied me before shaking his head
.
I could tell he was trying not to smile.

“What?” I said.

“It’s nothing.”

I nudged his foot with mine. “Tell me.”

“
You’re pretty cool
, Blake. I don’t know why it took us so long to do this.”

I looked at him
from under my eyelashes
and smiled, but didn’t say anything.

October 2
7

Last night’s storm had blown over leaving a trace amount of snow
, and now t
he
sky
shone
blue
around a pale yellow sun
. Before long, the gloom and gray of winter would settle permanently over the town and smother it in despair for the next six months.

I huddled in a musty smelling blanket from the trunk of my car and passed half an hour reading in peaceful solitude. I had just gotten to a really good part when
a shadow
appeared before me,
eclips
ing
the sun
and cast
ing
a cold
silhouette
over my entire face. I looked up, annoyed
,
and saw John staring down at me. Although my heart stuttered at the sight of him, I
was careful to keep
the
expression
on my face
in check.

I went back to looking at my book, even though I knew there was no way I would be able to concentrate on the words now. “Fudge off, John,” I said, when I finally came to terms with the fact he wasn’t going anywhere.

But instead of leaving, he took my words as an invitation to sit down. “I know you’re upset
. A
nd you have every right to be.”

I snorted and snapped the book shut, shoving it in my bag and making as if to leave. “I’m glad we at least agree on that.”

He grabbed my arm. “Blake.”

I gave an exasperated sigh. “What do you want?”

“You
know
what I want.”

I stared at him, too flabbergasted to speak. When I finally found my voice I said, “Why do I matter so much to you, huh? Who
am
I to you?”

The answering expression in John’s eyes was almost human-like, and I nearly reached out to brush away the lock of hair that had fallen across his smooth, pale forehead. But then I remembered the monster he was and turned away from him at once.

A moment of silence passed between us before John placed a plastic bag in his lap. He peeked inside and then looked at me, presumably to rouse my interest. “I thought you might be hungry,” he said. “I stopped at The Market and bought your favorite chili and cornbread.”

He placed the Styrofoam container beside me and added with a derisive laugh, “Never mind that it smells
like shit
.”

I glanced at the peace offering, my mouth watering
in automatic reflex of my hunger
. But instead of taking it, I pushed it away a few inches with the tip of my finger. “No, thank you.”

Despite the fact my stomach
clenched and rumbled
, I refused to admit to him that the chili’s odor, normally fragrant and homey-smelling, was now so offending it practically singed the hairs inside my nose. I saw from the corner of my eye how John
studied me
, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“It smells awful to you, too,” he said. It wasn’t a question, so I didn’t give him the benefit of an answer. Without a word
,
he gathered the container and got up to drop it into the nearest trash bin.

When he came back he said, “You’ll eventually learn to
ignore
the smells. You’ll still be able to eat food for the sake of appearing human, but there’s no nutritional value to it and it won’t taste anything like you remember. In fact, most of it will be downright repugnant. But if you’re lucky, you’ll find one or two foods that you’ll still be able to eat. Your own little slice of heaven,” he added with a chuckle.

“Like strawberries,” I said ruefully, suddenly understanding. I
narrowed my eyes
at him
, my top lip curling
. “You’re assuming I want to be like you.”

John sat down again, stretching out his long legs and crossing them at the ankles. “Honestly, who wouldn’t?”

“
I
wouldn’t
!
” I thumped my chest, rage making my words come out louder than intended. A man and his young son turned to look at me, and I lowered my voice to a whisper before continuing.

“I don’t want to be like you, but now the only choice I have is an impossible one.” I felt a choking necessity to cry, but I bit back the tears. I took a deep breath. “Why can’t you just let me go?”

John stared at me with eyes such an intense shade of green I had once thought them insanely beautiful. But now I could see
the predator behind the human facade, and I wondered how I’d ever fallen for the charade. He might look human, but he most definitely wasn’t.

John could have said a million things to me at that moment, but the only thing he said was, “Because I can’t.”

July 28

After lunch at The Market,
John took me home. My parents
had gone
antiquing in the next town over, figuring I
’d be at the lake party most of the day with
Olivia
and the rest of the squad
. They were still gone when we pulled up to the house.

Olivia’s car was parked in her driveway, but there was no sign of her mom’s. I wondered momentarily about Eleanor and if she was okay. I made a mental note to call later to check, and to reassure Olivia that John had been on his best behavior
, even if I’d acted like a fool for indulging my crush
.
The guilt would probably kill me later.

John
walked me to the front door, and we both stood there, indecisive and awkward. A kiss was out of the question, but a handshake would be just as weird. Should we hug or just wave? I
knew I would have to do or say something
. “Would you like to come in?”

“Won’t your parents mind?”

“They’re not home. And besides, they trust me. I’m on the Honor Roll,” I said.
He laughed, even though I’d been serious.

We ended up on the back patio sipping raspberry lemonade—or at least one of us was—under the shade of the pergola. 

“I
made it too tart
, didn’t I?” I winced, my cheeks puckering. John had set down his glass after just one sip and not bothered to pick it up again.

“Don’t worry about it.” He stretched his legs out in front of
him,
hands
linked
behind his head, and closed his eyes. 

A flush of heat rose suddenly up my neck and settled into my cheeks as I watched him.
U
nder normal circumstances I would never have spent the day with another guy, so what was I doing now? 

John
slowly opened
his eyes. He tilted his head to the side,
a shadow of a
smile play
ing
at his lips as he stared back. My pulse
quickened
.

“So, um, do you think that . . ?”
My
voice trail
ed
off, hinting at the question that I somehow couldn’t ask.

“Do I think we’ll see each other again?”

That
wasn’t the question I’d been
about to ask.
I had meant to ask if he thought we’d be friends once school started, but then the word
s
just popped out.
“Yeah.
That, too.
”

“I do.”

John rose from his seat in one fluid movement and seemed to hover in front of me, forcing me back in the vinyl cushion of my chair. The backs of my thighs were
covered in sweat, and
I hoped that when I got up
they wouldn’t accidentally make that sucking noise or
leave behind
a huge puddle of moisture. That would be totally humiliating.
  

John
kissed me without warning
, taking me completely by surprise
.
But
what was even more surprising was that
I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer
. I made an
embarrassing
sound
in the back of my throat
and John
did the same. But then he
pulled back suddenly,
looking shocked or embarrassed—I couldn’t quite tell
. He put a hand to his mouth and turned away
.

“I’m so sorry
,” he said
.
“
I really shouldn’t have done that. I should go.”

“
Oh.
”

He turned back to me
and gave a curt nod
. “But I’ll see you again.”

I rose from my seat and took a step toward him. 
“When
will that be
?”

I wished I could suck the desperation out of my voice. I had never been
that
girl, and I didn’t intend to start being her now. And yet I couldn’t seem to help myself.

John
handed me his phone. “Program your number.”

I did as he said, still reeling from the kiss.
Then he took my hands and pulled me
to him
, close enough so that I could feel his heartbeat.
My own heart seized in my chest, and I found it very difficult to breath.

“Think of me
tonight
,” he whispered
against my ear
. He turned around
then
and
disappeared
, leaving me alone with nothing but
the memory of his kiss
.