Just months before I start medical school in Boston, I decide to let loose for one night. A dark club, a loud band, strong drinks--and the attention of a dangerous-looking man who says he's in the city for only a week.
I know exactly what he is: a...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I find Kerri in the dormitory lounge on the second floor, down the hall from our room. In the semidarkness, she's drinking a Diet Coke, smoking a clove cigarette, and staring out the window.
Not many people in the dorm use the lounge, especially on weekend nights. Most of us go out, either to clubs or parties, or stay in our rooms and drink. The lounge is rarely an option, which is probably why it's turned into Kerri's unofficial domain.
The lounge is charmless, just an empty room with a couple of tired sofas and a few chairs. There are no curtains, no games, no books, no TV, no pay phone When I first moved in, I thought it was a storage area.
But Kerri loves it here, especially at night. It's where she comes to think and smoke.
"Hey," I say softly, not wanting to startle her. She's stretched out on one of the sofas and the entire room smells sweet and spicy, the scent of her cigarettes mixed with her Calvin Klein Obsession perfume.
She shifts so she's sitting up, and I plop next to her on the scratchy blue sofa. The normally harsh overhead lights aren't on, but it's not totally dark, since the blazing red-white illuminating triangle on the CITGO sign in Kenmore Square pours into the room. Kerri basks in the glow of the sign like a cat with a sunbeam. One time I asked her if the strong glow didn't hurt her sensitive vampire eyes and she just laughed and laughed.
"Oh, Evan." She'd let out a giggle, and I could tell from her tone that I amused her.
Tonight I won't ask any stupid questions, but still brace myself for a reprimand. I'd seen the flash in her eyes when she burst into the room and gazed upon the beautiful, shirtless Matteo. It was a look I'd never seen on Kerri's face before. Was it one of recognition? Envy? Or something else? I'm certain she'll let me know, because Kerri never censors herself.
I rest my head on her shoulder, and the thought flashes through my mind that in many ways, Kerri is the mom I always wanted — despite the fact that she looks my age. She's older than my own mother, technically. Well, in vampire years she's older, because she was born before Mom. But Mom started aging after she had me, so now she's older than Kerri. Sometimes vampire math is tiring.
"Are you going to lecture me?" I ask.
"It depends."
"On what?"
"How far did you go with him?" She takes a drag and blows out a cloud of clove-scented smoke that surrounds us like fog.
"Just kissing. A little bit more."
"Okay, not as bad as I thought."
"He doesn't seem like a bad person." I realize I sound petulant, which doesn't sit well. My words are also patently wrong. Matteo might not be evil, but he's definitely not good, either. Even I know this. "I mean, he's hella sexy."
"He's dangerous." Her words hang in the air, mingling with the smoke.
I shift back so I can study her profile, trying to regulate my heartbeat. She's right, of course, but it's not what I want to hear.. "Why do you think so? Do you know him?"
