PG13. Tween, humor, middle school, angst, vampires, serial, teen, fiction, summer. #ReadFree
Suggested Music: K-Pop on AudioNetwork
Sometimes snooping gives you more than you want to know. . .
Holly agreed wholeheartedly about the photo of Lane the following Saturday afternoon as they assembled in Brian's kitchen to make egg rolls. Sylvia didn't really want to be there, but she had won the battle against going to her dad's for the weekend, and her mom insisted she had to be chaperoned in some capacity.
After all, her mom had said, Julia and Terry needed some time together.
"Since when, Red?" Holly asked with a frown as they arranged ingredients on the kitchen counter that afternoon. "Your mom's never made allowances before when you wanted to hang out with Julia and her current boyfriend."
"Yeah, I know. It's kinda creepy." Sylvia looked out the window to her mom and Brian at the pool outside. Already they'd moved most of the patio furniture to the small gable-roofed shed at the end of Brian's half-acre yard. Now they were tugging the grill and umbrella that way. "Like she's been charmed or something."
"Hexed. Cursed." Holly nodded, eating one of the baby carrots on the counter.
"Werewolves curse. Vampires charm."
"Werewolves are cursed," Holly said.
Sylvia narrowed her eyes. "The point is, is that Mom is smitten with Terry, and she's making all these 'okay' rules now. Maybe it's just a midlife crisis or something."
Holly shrugged and Sylvia looked over the counter stocked with bok choy, scallions, carrots, bean sprouts, and two packages of egg roll wrappers. In the sink two pounds of shrimp were waiting in a colander.
"So, when's Lane coming by?" Holly smiled, her tone warming at the mention.
Sylvia shook her head as the front door opened. "Not those peers." She turned to see Brian's sixteen-year-old daughter Josie step into the room, her hand cupped in that of a slightly older boy. Sylvia sighed at the sight of the surly look on Josie's perky face crowned by cascades of platinum hair. "These peers."
Holly stopped munching on the carrot at the derisive glance the lanky boy threw them, his blond hair gelled and spiked to an inch, the tips touched with blue. His leather pants and black shirt were strapped with chains and grommets, and he didn't smell none too good, as Jamie would say. Mostly of old, funky smoke.
Sylvia decided right then that Lane would have snapped him in a heartbeat, and then caught herself, wondering why she was even thinking of Lane at all.
"Hey," Josie said, sauntering up to the counter.
"Hey," Sylvia returned.
"Hey," Holly said.
"This is Shade," Josie said, leaning against the counter, the boy's hand stuck in one of her bronze metallic-look skirt back pockets.
"Hey," he said.
Good grief, Sylvia thought, the communication. "This is Holly," she introduced. "She's Chocolate, and I'm Red. I see you've met Tricks."
Shade grinned, but Josie sent Sylvia a dark look. "Whatever. Go ahead and play with your fish bait."
Josie grabbed Shade's hand and dragged him past the kitchen to the staircase leading to Brian's finished basement.
Holly turned to Sylvia, eyes wide. "What was that all about?"
"I didn't want her to help us." Sylvia nodded to the egg roll ingredients. "More for us."
"Yeah, well next time you decide to go for the throat, let me know so I can make an escape route."
Sylvia shook her head, sliding a large chef's knife to her, then leaning down to find two cutting boards. "She's the one dating Scab."
"His name was Shade, Red," Holly said.
Sylvia rolled her eyes. "She waltzes in here like she's a queen bee and we're all supposed to get out of her way." She put two cutting boards on the counter. "You know, of all Brian's spawns, she's the worst. Julia said just give Josie something else to think about and she won't give you any grief."
Holly looked at the can of bean sprouts and then reached for the can opener on the counter. "So now you're taking pointers from Julia?"
"If Julia can manage to wiggle out of going to Dad's, then she's got a few tips I need to know." Sylvia smiled, pulling the bok choy closer. "Besides, I already got out of going over there this weekend."
Holly raised an eyebrow as she tipped the open can over the sink and let the sprouts drain of packing water. "Hey, if it works. . . So, no Lane?"
"You really liked that picture, huh?" Sylvia's smile widened. "Better than Jamie?"
"Watch your language, Red."
Sylvia set about chopping up the cabbage. Egg rolls were her favorite, and shrimp were the best. Pork was okay, but juicy shrimp were much better. And it was Brian's dime, so why not?
Holly dumped the sprouts on a large cutting board and proceeded to hack them into smaller pieces with a knife. "You still think he smokes?"
Sylvia knew Holly was talking about Terry. "Yup. Wouldn't be the first time a guy has lied to get on Julia's good side."
There was a flutter of wings and Blanche landed on her perch near the sliding glass door to watch Brian and Sylvia's mom taking the last of the yard ornaments—a hideous-looking garden gnome and fairy ball, relics of revenge on one of his exwives—to the shed.
"You think he's told her he's a vampire yet?" Holly asked with a giggle. Sylvia nudged her with an elbow, making her change directions with the knife blade. Holly pivoted her fingers out of the knife's way. "Hey, don't make me cut off a finger."
"I wish you'd stop saying that."
"Terry's a vampire? You know you're thinking it, Red."
"I'm thinking that Terry's a vampire?"
Holly nodded. "That Terry's a vampire. I can see you thinking it."
Sylvia looked back at her cabbage chopping. She didn't want to make it mush, but it did need to be fine enough to roll in the wrappers after being cooked. "Yeah, but maybe I'd stop thinking it if you stopped saying it."
"Bite me."
They both looked to Blanche, who was bobbing up and down, pacing her perch, her scratchy bird-voice pitched high. "Bite me."
Sylvia sighed and looked back down at her bok choy. "She's probably quoting Josie."
Blanche whistled. "Bite me, big boy."
Holly laughed. "Or Julia."
Or Mom, Sylvia thought, but felt like retching at the idea. "Dumb cluck. Maybe we should open the door and accidentally let her escape."
"She'd just come back. Like a homing pigeon." Holly dumped the sprouts into the large mixing bowl between her and Sylvia. "What's next?"
"Shredded carrots." Sylvia looked at the pile of carrots that had dwindled to half a dozen, thanks to Holly's munching. "All of them."
A low giggle followed by a chuckle drifted to them from the basement staircase doorway.
Holly and Sylvia exchanged looks.
Holly gave a knowing nod. "How much you want to bet they're not playing pool?"
Sylvia made a face. "Ew."
The front door opened, and they both paused in their respective chopping to peek around the kitchen opening into the living room. Coming in were Julia and Terry, who both waved upon seeing them.
"Hey, Sylvi. How far along are you two?" Julia called as Terry took her sweater.
"Oh, still chopping," Sylvia said, and then ducked back into the kitchen with Holly. "Don't say it, Chocolate."
"I know you're thinking it, Red." Holly resumed work at the counter. She set the stand-up grater on the cutting board still wet with sprout residue.
Sylvia slid the cutting board of cabbage into the mixing bowl and grabbed the bulb of garlic.
"He does look good today," Holly said lowly as Julia entered the kitchen.
Sylvia sighed. "When doesn't he?" One image popped into her mind. She quickly shook her head to dismiss it.
"Ooh, need some help?" Julia rolled up the three-quarter length sleeves of her lightweight lilac sweater.
"Sure." Sylvia nodded to the shrimp. "It's not deveined."
"Bite me," Blanche said, bobbing, her white head turned at an angle.
"Vulgar bird," Julia said, washing her hands at the sink.
"Terry's a vampire."
Julia looked at the bird, her blue eyes wide. She absently shut off the water and her gaze settled on Sylvia. "What the hell did that thing just say?"
Sylvia felt the blood run cold through her head, a strange washed-out feeling making her hands numb. "Josie's here. I think Blanche has been picking up words from her."
Holly was ashen beneath her usual color, still methodically grating carrots until she clipped off a fingernail.
Julia looked into the pile of carrots. "You better get that nail out, Holly."
Terry came in then, smiling at the three girls at the counter, returning their looks of varying anxious expressions. "Egg rolls? When do we eat?"
Julia shot Sylvia a venomous look and headed to Blanche. "How about we put you back under the cape for a while?"
"Bite me."
"Oh, I plan to, Blanche," Julia muttered, taking the white bird into the living room and down the hall.
"How are you two doing today?" Terry asked, giving Holly and Sylvia's terrified looks a wondering grin.
"Okay," they answered in unison.
He nodded, eyeing them warily. He was about to say more, when Julia returned to the kitchen.
"I think they've got this under control," Julia said, her eyes riveted on Sylvia. She looked back to Terry, a smile melting across her lips. "How about we go outside and see if Mom and Brian need any help?"
He nodded, flashing a smile at Holly and Sylvia before exiting the sliding glass door to the back deck with Julia.
Sylvia turned to Holly, who was regaining some of her color. "Whatever you do, Holly, don't leave me alone with Julia."
Holly nodded somberly.
Sylvia successfully avoided Julia for the next few days. Even when she did have to come face to perfect-face with her older sister, Sylvia maintained that Blanche must have been picking up words from elsewhere. Certainly not her. Or Holly.
Sylvia didn't think Julia believed her. Not entirely. But at least Julia stopped asking about it. After all, her birthday was in another week. There was more on Julia's mind.
Sylvia looked down the alley behind Terry's house that Wednesday afternoon on her walk home from school.
"Do it," Holly said from her side. "His car wasn't in the front. He's not home."
They stood in the alley opening, pulling their hoodies tighter. The weather had turned cooler, and while they were adamant about not wearing a winter coat until absolutely necessary, the thicker pullovers were welcome.
"What if he comes home?" Sylvia's eyes moved over the fire escape of the nearest three-story building.
Holly tugged on her friend's pale pink hoodie as she entered the alley. "We're just looking. No one's going to see."
Sylvia sighed and let herself be dragged down the alley. When Terry's small balcony came into sight, they slowed, fringing the garage of the neighboring building. The fire escape was down, hovering three feet off the ground. They looked up at the sliding glass door they knew to be Terry's apartment. The blinds were open.
Sylvia pressed her back up against the garage door, shaking her head at Holly. "No way. If he sees us lurking around the balcony, what are we going to say?"
"Say you're looking for Julia."
Sylvia shook her head. "From the fire exit?"
Holly blew a bubble and let it pop over her face. She peeled it off slowly. "He's not home, Red. We don't have to have an excuse."
They crossed the alley to the yard behind Terry's building and took the narrow sidewalk that ran between the buildings. No one saw them. The only neighbor even within sight was an elderly lady who was dozing in the screened porch two houses over, a fat cat lying, sleeping, on her shawl-covered lap.
They paused at the fire escape, looking at the first step of the ladder that came to their waists.
Holly made a face at Sylvia. "You first, Red."
Sylvia frowned at the ladder height. "Why me? You're the athletic one."
"No, I'm not."
"You're going out with the best basketball player in school."
Holly smiled at the idea. "Well, that doesn't make me athletic by default. And we're not really going out. More like," she smiled wider, "big friends."
Sylvia looked around at the houses in the neighborhood. No one was watching. She grabbed hold of the second rung of the ladder and struggled to put her shoe on the bottom rung.
She pulled her hoodie down over her backside that threatened to expose her rear cleavage and hauled herself onto the lowest rung, grunting at the effort. She, too, could have a big friend if she said yes to Matt's incessant pleading to go to the dance.
No way, she thought, making her way up the ladder. Not in a million years. She was momentarily blinded by a brief shot of Lane's school photo flashing before her eyes. She shook her head to clear it and continued climbing, feeling Holly take the lowest rung.
Terry's balcony was vacant, a tiny three-foot-by-six-foot veranda to facilitate the fire exit. She plastered herself to the side of the building, peeking around the corner of the sliding glass door to see that the kitchen area inside was vacant.
Holly scrunched close by her side. "See anything?" she asked, panting beside her.
"No."
"I told you. Ooh, look, it's unlocked."
Sylvia's eyes dropped to the sliding glass door's locking mechanism to see that the latch was flipped halfway up.
"Ours does that, too, sometimes," Holly said, nodding. "You have to slam it real good to make sure it holds."
Sylvia sighed. "Now what?"
"Well, we should go in and make sure it's locked. You wouldn't want him to get robbed, would you?"
Sylvia looked at the sprung lock. "This is a nil-crime neighborhood, Holly. Nothing ever happens here."
"That's because it has such a bang-up-good neighborhood watch. Let's go."
Sylvia glanced to the porch where the woman was napping with her cat. Holly nudged her side with an elbow.
"Just open it, Red."
Sylvia opened the door. It slid quietly open and they entered Terry's apartment. Holly immediately looked to the living room.
"What do you think Gackt meant by 'One of the few'?"
"What? Oh, I don't know. Don't touch anything." Sylvia frowned as her friend edged toward the living room.
"Don't you want to see what he has?"
"I know what he has. He has my sister." She grimaced. Parts of her mother, too, she thought.
"All the more reason to check him out."
Holly headed down the short hall to where Sylvia knew Terry's bedroom to be. She followed.
"You can't go in there."
But Holly was already there.
They stood inside the doorway, looking over the room. The bed was outfitted in a navy, taupe, and brown cotton comforter, pillows, and bed linens. It was a warm, welcoming room that succeeded in inviting them in. To one side were a five-drawer dresser and a dark blue ottoman, the closet halfway open to expose a row of hanging dress shirts and casual slacks and pants.
"Stop being nosey," Sylvia said as Holly picked up one of the blue pillows and smelled it.
A dreamy expression crossed Holly's face. "It smells just like him. Scrumptious."
Sylvia made a face and paused at the dresser. On it were a comb and dish with some change, a money clip holding a few $50 bills, and a small leather bag zippered shut. She glanced at Holly as she left the room.
"I'm going to look in the living room," Holly called as she disappeared.
Sylvia slowly unzipped the bag, not having too much luck with zippers lately. In one compartment side was two filled syringes and two vials of a clear liquid. Encased in the other side was a prescription bottle of capsules. She pulled one out of the elastic sleeve holder enough to see the name on it.
Valtieri Dakmarr. Type Male A, Prescription #7787.
Sylvia frowned at the number. Dakmarr-Moore Pharmaceuticals, the lab company name read.
She zipped the bag shut and looked to Holly as her friend appeared in the doorway.
"I heard a car outside. Maybe it's him."
They rushed to the sliding glass door and pulled it open. They stepped outside, pulses racing, fingers shaking.
"Wait! We didn't lock it!" Holly said, her fingernails clutched in Sylvia's hoodie.
"Ouch. How're we supposed to lock it from the outside?"
"I don't know."
"Well, then we can't say we went in to lock it if we can't lock it and then pull it shut behind us."
They stared at each other for a moment.
"I guess not," Holly finally said. She grabbed Sylvia's arm tighter. "Let's go."
They half climbed, half fell down the fire escape and headed for the alley. They didn't stop until they were at the sidewalk of the street, both panting and breathless.
Holly sighed in relief. "That was close."
Sylvia gave her a shove. "You said there would be no problem."
"Hey, maybe there wasn't a problem. Maybe it wasn't even his car."
Sylvia tried to make her breath return to normal. "You know, this is way weird, Holly."
Holly nodded. "I know, Red."
"No. I mean . . ." Sylvia tried not to visualize the prescription number in her head. "It's really way weird."
Thanks to Sakurapu for sharing her story!