“I know. I do not wish to hurt you. I wanted to speak about Ava, and I did not think she would like me doing so.” She sighs.
“Yes, I know.” She sits up, propping a pillow under her back.
I push the window open a few more inches. “May I come in?”
“I suppose.” I move as slowly as I can so as not to startle her.
“I don't remember the last time I had a boy sneaking in my window,” she says with a smile. The mood lifts a little.
“It cannot have been that long ago.” She can't be much more than forty-three.
“Flattery will get you everywhere, young man.” She stops, realizing what she'd said. “I guess you aren't really a young man. I'm really not comfortable with that age difference. It's illegal in all 50 states and Puerto Rico, I believe.”
“There were no such laws when I was human.” Men married women young enough to be their granddaughters. Especially when there was money involved.
“That isn't helping your case.”
“I would like to talk to you about what happened tonight. Ava believes she caused your illness by telling you about our relationship.” I try taking a breath in. The air whistles in my lungs, but she can't hear it.
“I know.” She sighs again. “She's always been that way. Taking on more than she should. My strong girl. Seems like she's taken on a lot from you, as well.” She waves her hand to indicate my person.
“I would not have chosen it for her. It was out of necessity.” I need to make this clear to her. That it wasn't a choice either of us had taken lightly.
“For you, or her? Because I have a hard time believing you have a benevolent spirit.” I have no spirit at all, but I do not say that.
“For her. I would have been content to end my existence, but she stopped me.”
“Why did you do it? Why not just leave her alone?”
“I ask myself the same question every day.” It is the only answer I can give her. It is not enough.
“Of course she did.” Her hand goes to her head, as if it aches. It is time to go.
“I will leave you now. Unless you have questions for me. Ava always seems to.”
A tiny smile lifts her pale lips. “Did she make a list?”
“Yes.”
“What am I going to do with that girl?” She laughs and shakes her head. “If I think of one, I'll ask her. You're not going to turn into a bat, are you?”
“No. Ava asked me that, too. I believe Bram Stoker is responsible for that particular piece of lore.” Ava had given me a copy of Dracula to read. I'd avoided the book for many years, but was pleasantly surprised by the story.
“Hm,” she says, as if she's thinking about something else.
“Goodnight.” I move too fast for her eyes to follow, and she's startled when I am no longer in the room.
She pauses, as if to say something else, but doesn't. I close the window behind me and the light goes out.
Ava
Dad and I end up whisper yelling for almost an hour. I'm absolutely exhausted by the end and don't even have to fake that I'm tired. Somehow, my voice is also hoarse from the confrontation. I spent a lot of time defending myself, Peter, even Mom. Not to mention he reamed me out for not handling the episode the correct way. Otherwise known as his way.
He didn't approve of me having Peter over at all, even though, as far as he knew, Peter had just “dropped by.” I guess I'd also screwed up by driving to the hospital and not calling for an ambulance. The scent of his blood teased me, making my head muddled and my temper even shorter than it was normally.
I didn't bother telling Dad that it would cost $400 if we'd called the ambulance, even with our insurance. The fact that I'm 17 and know how much an ambulance costs was not something I wanted to think about. I didn't want to do much more thinking. I just wanted to hang out with Peter in my room and have him read to me, or have him sit there and listen to me go on and on without interrupting. He was so good at that. He was good at a lot of things.
But he'd said we were going flying tonight. The thought of that made me shiver with anticipation as I stormed up the stairs. I wanted to say goodnight to Mom, but I wasn't going to wake her up. She'd been through enough and didn't need me reminding her of the awfulness from earlier. Dad would take such good care of her, she'd have care coming out her ears.
I pull my phone out of my back pocket, but the screen's black. After the hospital ordeal, I'd turned it off. Which means that I've probably got a million missed messages from Texas and Jamie. Yup, ten from Tex, but one from Jamie. It had been forever since we'd talked.
Instead of texting him back, I hit speed dial and park myself at the top of the stairs outside my room.
“Hey you,” I say when he picks up. “Long time no talk.”
“Hey Ave.” Hearing his voice is like drinking a warm cup of tea with tons of honey. There's a reason Jamie and I have been friends for so long. Back before this whole Thing with my mother and Thing with Peter, I used to tell Jamie everything.
“I've missed you lately.”
“I know, you've been a busy girl.” I can feel the hurt in his voice. I swallow a lump of guilt.
I want to spill about Peter and the hospital ordeal, but I can't. Not yet. “How are things? How's Cassie?”
“She's really good. The baby started moving, so that's a good sign.”
“Do you know if it's a boy or girl?”
“Not yet. She wants a boy so she can name it Jamie.” My heart squeezes. How sweet.
“We need to hang out soon. As in this week.”
“Definitely. It's been ages since I had my best cheerleader at one of my meets.”
“Just don't make me wear the skirt and I'm there.”
“I know.” There's a pause in the conversation where I want to tell him. Something, anything. I want it so much, but instead I say, “I'll talk to you tomorrow. Say hi to Cassie and the baby for me.”
“I will.”
Click. I sit for a second on the steps, thinking about Jamie. I want to do something for him. Once, Brett Kormier was teasing me about my black hair and Jamie drew me a picture of Brett with snakes coming out of his head. It sounds silly now, but back then it was one of the nicest things anyone had done for me. I'll have to come up with something. Dinner at Miller's isn't going to cut it.
Peter's reading when I open the door. He'd blown through most of my books by now, and I have to keep going to the library to get more. I'd go to bed and he'd be reading one book, and in the morning there would be a stack on my floor. He'd mentioned to me once that he used to break into the library and steal books. I told him to stop, and I'd do it the legal way. The crazy thing is that he'll read everything from vampire romances to literary fiction to histories of the civil war. Which was kinda smexy.