Deadly Eternities

CH3: Head Quarters

      HEAD QUARTERS || 03

     Loud eighties music, the really bad stuff, boomed throughout Cole’s apartment. It was all I could find other than some Kenny Roger CDs and a bunch of classical. It did the job though, drowned out my thoughts and helped me bide my time as I waited (not-so patiently) for him to return. For the first half-hour I’d flicked through a couple of books from one of his many bookcases (like seriously, he had at least five full cases along his bedroom wall, and at least as many in the lounge); they looked okay, but my mind was whizzing to fast to actually comprehend anything. After that I flicked through the channels on his flat screen television and found only infomercials and bad talk shows. So that was what lead me to shuffling through his CD rack (an eventually finding the CD of crappy eighties music).

     I spun around the room with my hair brush in hand, singing Madonna’s ‘Material Girl’ at the top of my voice. Wind flew through my hair as I somersaulted across the back of the couch and then landed neatly on my feet.

     “Impressive.” My eyes widened as I turned around to see Cole leaning against the door with raised eyebrows, barely containing tears of laughter.

     My face burned with embarrassment, “I-I was bored?” I kicked my hairbrush underneath the sofa, hoping to hell that he’d missed the singing . . . something in his eyes though told me that wasn’t the case.

     He snorted, “Obviously; that music is terrible.” He picked up the stereo remote and pressed the off button, bringing the room to near silence.

     “Better than the other stuff—I mean seriously, Kenny Rodgers? Ew, my Mom listens to that.” She spent most of her days for the last few years listening to him; there wasn’t exactly a lot else to do when you’re hooked up to an oxygen tank and a drip; apart from painting, lots and lots of painting.

     He rolled his eyes and picked up something off the coffee table. “Well, you could have just plugged this in, you know. It has heaps on it.” I groaned. Unbelievable, how the hell had I not spotted the little MP3 player earlier? It was in the middle of the friggin’ coffee table for God’s sake!

     I decided to change the subject, “Why were you gone for so long?”

     He sighed as he sat the two heavy looking bags beside his feet. “Just getting more blood, we were out.”

     I shivered at the thought, although my face grew warm at the use of the word ‘we’. “Oh my God . . . holy crap, please don’t tell me you just go around sticking needles in people for that stuff? That’s just gross—probably illegal or something too.”

     He rolled his eyes, but the playfulness looked somewhat halfhearted. “No, I don’t. Head Quarters supply it . . . as long as you can afford it and you’re registered-- which you’re not. I’m taking you there now, so get whatever you need and we’ll be off.” There was a hard look in gaze as he mentioned the ‘Head Quarters’, but I tried to ignore it as I followed him out the front door.

     The heavily tinted windows in Cole’s expensive looking black car were barely enough to shield the uncomfortable glare of the sun. Although it was uncomfortable, even with the day being overcast, I was quite pleased that the whole ‘vampire-burn-in-the-sun-and-die’ thing seemed to be a myth.

     Other than Cole telling me to say as little as possible when we arrive, the car ride had been in mostly silence so far. Cole’s knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel, and his jaw was tightly clenched. His face was void of emotion. Butterflies stormed about my chest as I tried to figure out whether it was the trip to Head Quarters, or something I had done that was troubling him.