“He's got it bad,” I say.
“Tell me something I don't know.”
“You told me that noctali don't form bonds, but I feel like every single one I've met is hopelessly in love with someone,” I say to Peter.
“There are many of us who are not. Like stays with like. You have not seen many of the loners. They stay out of sight as much as possible. They exist in this world, but not as a part of it. The only time you would see them is in your last moment of life,” Peter says.
“They sound like the legit vampires,” Tex says.
“More or less,” Peter says.
I poke him in the chest. “I hate it when you say that.”
“No, you don't.”
“Okay, that's enough of that,” Tex says, putting her arm between us. Like she is any better.
“So, um, we have something to tell you,” Tex says, taking Viktor's hand. Oh, God. Peter's hand goes to my back, sliding under my shirt so his skin is against mine. I stop breathing for a second. I know I'm not going to like what she's going to say.
“We're moving in together. Not, like, right now, but when I graduate.”
Okay, so that is not as bad as I thought it would be. “Is there more?”
“What more do you think there would be?” She pretends that she's shocked, but I know better.
“Oh, I don't know, maybe that Viktor was going to change you?”
“No, we've agreed not until after graduation,” she says, nodding.
“What the FUCK, Tex?!”
“Jesus, calm down. I was just messing with you.” She looks at me like I'm the one who's overreacting.
“You said you were going to be nice,” Viktor says, touching her shoulder. Thank you.
Tex sighs. “Yeah, I did. Which is why I brought this,” she says, pointing to Viktor, who whips something out from behind his back. I seriously have no idea where he hid it. He hands it to me and everyone waits for me to open it. The package is square and covered in glittery wrapping. What a shocker. There's also a crap ton of glittery curled ribbon on it.
“I wrapped it myself,” Tex says, as if she's very proud of this fact. I raise one eyebrow, because I am very familiar with Tex's wrapping jobs. Nearly every Christmas she calls me in a panic and makes me come over to wrap her presents.
“Okay, so Viktor wrapped it, but I curled the ribbon.” Well, it's the thought that counts, right? It takes forever to get the ribbon off and I peel the paper back. It's a silver photo frame with a picture of me, Tex and my mom.
“Remember that? I found it the other day and I thought you'd want to have it.”
Dad had snapped that one a few years ago. Before the cancer, before Peter, before my life took a dark turn. Tex and I were getting ready for the winter semi-formal dance, and Mom was helping us. Dad snapped the picture from the side, so none of us were aware of it. Mom was squishing her face up at both of us, and Tex and I were laughing. We both had our hair done, but hadn't put our dresses on, so we were prom queens on top, and casual below. I liked it because my makeup was done and I felt so pretty that night. Jamie took both of us as his dates, and we teased him the whole night about being a stud.
Mom looks so healthy and vibrant in the picture. It's amazing how seeing this, seeing how she was, highlights how drastic the changes are. I guess when the changes come about slowly, you don't notice it day to day. The picture is both a reminder of what I had and what I'm going to lose. Bittersweet.
“Thanks, Tex.” Of course the tears come, and Peter offers his shoulder.
“I just... I didn't know what to do. I don't know what to say, and I'm always afraid I'll say the wrong thing. I'm no good at this stuff.” It's true, she isn't. She holds her arms out for a hug, and I give her one.
“That was nice.”
“Good,” she says, as if she's relieved. “It was either that or a book about losing someone you love.” Dear God, I did not need one of those.
“I'm glad you went with the picture. It's beautiful.” I put it on my nightstand, right next to my notebook and pen.
“Your mother is coming upstairs,” Peter says and in a blink, he and Viktor are out the window. Tex and I throw ourselves on my bed and try to look like we're talking about something stupid and teenagery.
“Knock, knock,” Mom says, poking her head in the door. Her voice is still stuffed with mucus, and her eyes are all swollen and red.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Hey, baby. Hey, Tex. How are you?”
Tex's eyes widen a second at Mom's appearance. It's been a while since she saw her last. “Good, Mrs. Sullivan. How are you?”
“I've been better,” she says, winking. Tex is nervous, as if she wants to run away.
“Well, I just wanted to say hi. Let me know if you need anything.”
There is no way that I would ask her to make me a snack in her condition. Dad would never allow that. I'm shocked he even let her come up the stairs. I can hear him hovering at the bottom, ready to rush up the stairs if something should go wrong.
“I was just telling Ava that I've been dying to see that movie she has. You know the one about the soldier who tries to find that girl? We were just coming down to watch it,” Tex says. She pinches my arm where Mom can't see. I don't know what her sudden change of heart is, but I'm all up for it.
“You want to watch it with us?” I say.
“Sure, baby. I'd love to. If you don't mind. I don't want to infringe on your girl time.”
“Are you kidding? Who else can understand my appreciation of Patrick Swayze?”
“That is true. I tell you, if I wasn't married...” Mom says, sighing dreamily.
“Amen to that,” Tex says, getting up.
I can tell she's nervous, but she's trying to be nice. I see her glance out the window and make a little motion with her fingers. I can just see Viktor and Peter on the edge of the roof, far enough out that they are shrouded in darkness, but close enough that I can see them with my enhanced eyesight. Those boys.
“So, Tex, I hear there is a new man in your life,” Mom says. I told her Tex and Viktor are together, but I didn't tell her about the Claiming part.
“Yeah, he's... pretty special,” Tex says, fiddling with her glasses.
“So I've heard.” They're both pretending the other one doesn't know about the whole immortal thing because talking about it out loud is just too weird. It's one thing for me and Mom to talk about it, but it's another to have a group discussion.
“I know you know, Tex,” Mom says, stomping on the eggshells and using her mom tone.