I wake up, realizing I fell asleep in John's arms. And in his bed. Shit! This wasn't supposed to happen, he's not supposed to know the truth about me, or he'll be in deep trouble. Espessially with the rest of the clan. I pry myself from his arms, desperate to get out of his house. Ugh, I can smell his mom's weed all the way from up here. Poor John, having to live with a mother like that. He doesn't deserve someone who won't care for him like that. He's such a sweet kid, and I wish I could give him everything. As I roll off the bed, I hear him sigh. "I'm awake, you know." He says. My entire body freezes where I'm standing. I don't know what to say. "And I refuse to let you leave until those are healed." He mutters. I know exactly what he's talking about, but I hurry and rush to brush my hair anyway. "Callie, listen to me." He mumbles, eyes still closed. I glance over at him, ripping through the endless knots in my blond hair. "Yes, John?" I say, uneasy. Hopefully he won't strike me with anything like he loves me or something. "Because I care about you, I want you to sit down on this bed, and wait for me to fix you up." He whispers. I look over, noticing he actually got out of bed. I can tell it was hard for him to do, considering how late we stayed up. "I'm dead, it shouldn't matter wheather or not I cut. It doesn't effect my life, like it does for humans." He takes two long strides and is inches away from my body. I resist the urge to reach out and touch his bare chest once more, using all of my stregth. He leans in closer, his lips inches from mine, the temptation to kiss him, growing inside me. In seconds, his lips are crashing hard down on mine, the small dim flame inside me spreading like a wildfire, ignigting my every nerve. His arms are around me in no time, holding my body closer than anyone ever has before. I tangle my fingers in his black shaggy hair, my fpalm flat, fingers extended on his chest. His fingertips leave an icy trail of fire down my spine to my waist, pulling our hips together. He pulls away, not allowing me to move from the wall or his warm body. "Callie, I care about you, dead or alive. You may be dead on the outside, but on the inside, you're still alive. Okay, maybe your heart isn't beating. But you can still love someone, right?" I stare at him. Where is he going with this? I nod. "Then, you're still alive." He kisses me softly, pulling away once more. We stare at eachother in silence, neither one of us thinking about what will happen afterwards. His light brown eyes stare deep, loving holes into my green ones. His sharp jawline makes him so tempting. He makes me feel every emotion at the same time.
* * *
It's Tuesday morning, and you'd think I'd want to stay home, but I'm starting to feel the fatal attraction to John Luke and I cannot wait to go to school. I roll out of bed, looking at my clothes I had already picked out the day before. I smile, knowing John Luke will like it. Now that I really think about it, he has such a nice name. I've never met anyone with that name, it's weird but normal. Almost like John Luke himself, so I guess the name fits him. A lot of things that he does explains him more than he understands, and I don't think he notices it. Most people don't. I mean, while I was...well...human I never noticed myself as much as other people did. I hope John Luke won't ask many questions about me and my deadness. It's already horrible as it is. It may not seem like it, because I can still do most human things, but I'll never grow old while John Luke gets old and dies. Most likely he will pass on to whatever, but because I was murderd, there's no way in Hell I'll pass on. Plus, I have unfinished buisness. Mainly just because my killer is still on the loose, trying to keep my memory alive. And when I say that, I mean he keeps my picture in his back poket, and kills girls who look exactly like me. One day, ther'll be a girl who wants to pass on and is angry enough to kill him. And that's where my part will come in to tell her not to until John Luke dies. ON HIS OWN. I slip on my shirt, brushing my hair, trying my best to get all the tangles out. I stop running my brush through my (now) perfectly non-tangled hair, and I hear a car's engine. Who could be here? John Luke has baseball practice in the morning, so it can't be him...Who else would be here?! I have no other friends. The doorbell rings, and I nearly drop my brush it scared me so bad. I make my way to the door, talking through the door. "Who is it?" I ask, but they just ring the doorbell again. Yeah, that's something John Luke would do. I open the door, and it's not John Luke
It's my killer, Ian.
