So I'm a Vampire... Now What? - Book 2 (Original Version)

Chapter 5.6 Moving On pt6

The agents dropped me off right in front of work and left me there. I think I just stood there on the sidewalk, staring at the front of the store, seeing but not really seeing, wondering what the hell was wrong with me. All I had to do was take a step forward, take a goddamn step and go in.

Ten minutes later, I was still there on the sidewalk.

I didn't go in.

I pulled out my phone, intending to call Claude, intending to apologize for being such a fucking idiot, but I never got the chance. I watched as my phone slipped from my hands—

"Fuck!"

—-and then go tumbling end over end through the air before it smashed face-first into the very solid and extremely immovable pavement. It was the only patch of pavement within ten feet that wasn't covered in snow or slush. The sound it made as it landed was a sickening splat and crunch that served only to erase any hope that this was going to end well.

"Oh fuck my life," I groaned and picked it up, hoping against hope that the damage was minor, only a cracked screen, maybe just a chip in the glass, anything but the smashed screen that stared back at me, the glass missing from one corner and just a confusing spiderweb of destruction and despair.

So much for calling Claude or anyone at all for that matter. I couldn't even begin to tell you what his number was. Thing is that I could still remember his number from when we were teenagers. That was embedded in my brain from repeated calls, the same way my mom's house phone number was programmed into his brain for all eternity. Cellphones and social media had made needing to know numbers irrelevant, and there I was, needing my best friend in the world, and I had no idea how to reach him.

Fuck.

"Who pissed in your cornflakes?" a familiar voice said and I glanced up to see Beatrice giving me a raised eyebrow from inside a silver Lexus. Apparently, she had pulled up to the curb behind me without me noticing.

I waggled my phone at her.

"Broke my phone," I said despondently." Smash. Boom. All gone."

"Well fuck your life," Beatrice said in agreement, echoing my exact statement. I wondered if she had heard me swearing. "You should think about getting that fixed," she said. "Either that or get a new one."

I shook my head sadly. "Easier said than done. Some of us, I.E. me, still gotta work a shitty job for a shitty paycheque."

Beatrice considered for a moment, then: "Look, I'm still trying to apologize for leaving you to die like that. It was a really shitty thing to do... so if I buy you a new phone, will you at least think about forgiving me?"

"Is this you still doing the nice thing?"

"How about: this is me trying really, really hard? It's not much, but it is the least I can do."

I shrugged. What the hell did I have to lose accepting her apology? All at once, my anger at Beatrice seemed utterly pointless. It couldn't hurt to have a total badass on my side for once, right? Especially if she was not in a mood to kick my ass.

"I'm going to accept your obvious and generous bribe," I said. "And speaking of which: do I still get the Keurig?"

Beatrice grinned. "I'll have to think about it. Come on, hop in. Let's go get you a new phone."

I got in and buckled up. Beatrice gunned the engine and grinned at me.

"Did you come here looking for me?"

Beatrice shrugged. "I heard about the trial and that Michél tried to kill you. I thought you might need some cheering up after being exposed to that breath."

The horror of the memory of the teeth and the breath came back, but then I surprised myself by laughing loudly. Goddamn, his breath had been horrible!

"You know that evolutionary throwback? What is up with his teeth?"

Beatrice sniggered with memory.

"Michél is a strong believer in tradition. Fanatical about it to the point where he's practically a Luddite. He doesn't believe in using modern technology, and apparently, that includes dental care."

"Is that why they all dress like that?"

"You know he tried to kiss me once?" She shuddered at the memory, and I just watched in amazement, wondering just who the hell this woman was. She looked like the Beatrice I knew, but this was not the same woman at all.

"Maybe you should have, then he wouldn't have tried to stick his tongue down my throat today," I quipped.

"You know, given the day you just had, I think a few bottles of tequila would not be a bad idea. My treat."

"I've never been known to say no to several bottles of tequila. Bring it on!"

Beatrice pulled out into traffic, and as she sped across the city, we talked and laughed. It was a strange kind of friendship that we formed, surreal, but it was good in the best way it could be.

I didn't even realize until way later that I had forgotten all about calling Claude.