The More Things Change

Five

I woke up in Elena's bed, drenched in sweat. The slanted ceiling occupied my blank stare for several minutes while I laid on my back. I was well and truly stuck. How?

There was no figuring it out. If the show were real, maybe this was some sort of parallel reality. Yes, because parallel realities—as opposed to just losing my mind—made perfect sense.

I covered my—or Elena's—face with my—or Elena's—hands and concentrated on breathing and not, you know, screaming. It took a while. The alarm clock went off.

Dragging myself out of the bed, I went on autopilot. Bathroom. Shower. Brush teeth. Get dressed. Makeup.

By the time I was finished putting Elena's hair up into a ponytail, I had a good hour before I'd have to leave for—ugh—high school. That gave me some time to snoop before anyone might expect me for breakfast. Not that Jeremy would care, but Jenna would probably notice if I skipped another meal.

I went to Elena's desk and pulled her laptop over. While her diary would probably tell me more about her, it felt wrong to dive into a teenage girl's private thoughts. Her search history was fair game, though.

What I found was that Elena spent a lot of time reading fashion blogs, following models and designers on their facebooks—when she wasn't looking over the hundred other pages of people she apparently knew—and browsing the online sites of high-end fashion stores. She also had a large collection of links to blogs by and for writers. A quick perusal of her drive revealed a folder full of original stories and poems. I didn't have time to read more than a few of the latter. While poetry really wasn't my thing, what I saw was pretty good.

She also had a bunch of pirated music and shows. Tsk tsk.

Shutting down the laptop, I sat back and thought. Far as fashion went, my knowledge was limited to reality game shows—and that was about it. I was going to have to be careful not to bring it up around Caroline or Bonnie, because I'd probably sound like an idiot. At least I had an idea of her taste in music and movies. We shared a love of Pop, which was good, though Elena had a more extensive collection of Indie rock. We liked a lot of the same movies and shows, too. Except she had a noticeable lack of horror in her collection which—was hilarious or sad, depending on how you looked at it, I supposed.

I had enough time for breakfast before I had to leave.

Jeremy's room was quiet as I walked by. I glanced at the door, at the sign warning others to stay out, and wondered if I should knock and see if he was awake. Elena probably would've.

But I wasn't Elena. I didn't know Jeremy beyond what I'd seen on television, and the kid was not coping with the death of his parents all that well. If such a thing could be said of any kid who'd lost their parents. He also probably knew his sister pretty damn well. I didn't want to risk saying or doing something wrong around him. Jeremy was clever. He'd put together the existence of vampires for himself. No need to go stirring up his curiosity if I didn't have to.

I decided to leave it to Jenna, his actual guardian.

Unfortunately, all there was of Jenna was a note on the fridge saying she'd had to leave early to work on research. I helped myself to some cereal and started a pot of coffee for Jeremy. Provided he ever woke up.

As the time crept closer to eight, and he still hadn't made an appearance, I muttered a quiet, "Dammit." After rinsing the bowel out in the sink, I made my way back upstairs and to Jeremy's door.

I knocked. "Jeremy?"

Nothing.

Blowing out a breath, I knocked harder. "Hey, Jeremy? It's getting kind of late."