Death and all Its friends (Vampire Romance)

Chapter 5

Hope this keeps you going for a while. Still searching for that USB pen. I have two more chapters. I don't know if I'll update them or not for a while, depends on what people think of this story.

April 23rd 2015

"Happy birthday!"  I was wrenched from my dream by my father's enthusiastic voice. I swear to god he was more excited for today than I was. I hope he is calmer now than he was last year, when he made a complete fool of himself at Christmas getting tangled up in the tinsel in our tree. I came home with my boyfriend Conor and he was stuck to the Christmas tree, with the star on his head. That incident has since gone down in the "never to be spoken of again" section of my mind. As has the split up with Conor three weeks later.

"GUESS WHAT SARA!"

I sighed, moping down the stairs to greet Richard Devon, one of the most influential men in the village, practically a millionaire, and one of the sharpest minds in the construction industry, if not the world.

"Dad, why are you dressed as a dinosaur?"

My dad smiled goofily.

"It's for your birthday silly. Can we have a dinosaur theme for your party? "

"No."

"Please?"

Oh my god he's finally lost it. This is more than a little creepy.

"No. Dad I am SEVENTEEN today, not seven! No parties, no themes and NO DINOSAURS!" I screamed, retreating back to my room. Slamming the door behind me, ninja teenage style, of course.

My mother, Sandra Devon died four years ago years ago. At the time I barely saw my father, who was always at a conference or a business meeting. He had been blinded by the desire to make his family's life as luxurious as he could, and whilst doing so had lost touch with the very thing he had been working so hard for. Out of respect for my dying mother, whose final wish had been for Nile and I to grow closer to our father, we had changed our names and moved into his "work-house" the cottage he used when he was working nearby at the centre.

After the loss of my mother, my dad realised he barely knew his own kids. He decided to look after Nile and I. Taking a pay cut and a demotion, he started to work at home and spend time with us in the tumbledown cottage on the edge of the village that we call home. At first he had considered moving back to our other house, where Mum had looked after us, but the place was too thick with memories. He sold it. Nile escaped last year, the jerk. Now it is just me and the loon. With so little experience of teenage children, he seems to have decided to treat us like babies. Mostly I just humour him - but not to the extent of a dinosaur suit. I have my dignity you know!

Hurriedly brushing and straightening my hair, which had an irritating habit of curling at the bottom, I stopped only to straighten my tie and throw on my jumper (Bottle green, ugh, can't they pick a NICE colour for once. Do adults derive some kind of sick pleasure from making children look lumpy and shapeless?) before running out the door, with only a Nutri-grain bar for breakfast.

Make no mistake, I wasn't late - but two more minutes with my father and I would scream and possibly kill him. And- if I'm honest- I guess I kinda, sorta, was, in a hurry to go to school to drool over one Jack David Taylor. Time had been kind to him, and over the years his carefully tousled brown hair had grown to his ears, where it was swept forward wavily in a style that made him look like he belonged on a Californian beach. His skin, always faintly brown, was now on a par with a Greek god's- slightly tanned, but not too brown - with the muscles to match. He was one of the tallest people in the year, but wasn't so tall it was intimidating. And his eyes. God. Like a perfect slice of jade they bored into you, mesmerising. No one else I have ever seen has looked so deserving of model status as Jack. Well, no one except that b- NO!

I cut myself off mentally. Thinking about the boy was not a good idea. Though the incident had happened over four years ago, I could remember it perfectly. The fear as I cried alone in the dark. The darkness and dust. A boy weeping. The boy - like a dark angel, with his perfect skin. His guarded, careful eyes. Far too world weary for a young boy. His name.

Then there was the massive telling off I got when I returned home at 11 o clock at night. The resulting argument between Jack's and my family destroyed our friendship. And I never saw the boy again. For some reason, the members of my family really really REALLY hated the Grange - even more than everyone else in the village. I hadn't mentioned the memories I had seen, of the man, (Tobias?) both eighteen and forty. Watching both his brother die, and the kind old benefactor from the building company. Even now I wonder a lot how much I dreamt, and how much was real.

Someone clicked their fingers in front of my eyes and I snapped back to reality.

"Hey. Someone need an earlier bedtime?" said a melodic voice I knew well, despite not hearing for WAY too long. A testament to how I clung WAY too much to every word of his I heard?

"Jack? Why are you talking to me?" I asked. Jack had refused to speak to me ever since his father had thrown a fit after "the Grange incident." Yup, you got it, the one four years ago. Who says guys can't hold petty unnecessary, BLOODY INFURIATING GRUDGES.

"You ain't still sore 'bout that are you?" he slowly drawled in the way only he could. His words, however, were mocking, and I wasn't going to sit back and take it. Sara Devon gives as good as she gets.

"Remind me who it was that cut me off and refused to speak to me? And who was it that cried after being called gay when I told everyone in the class about your hair straighteners?" I smiled triumphantly, determined not to let Jack win. No matter how handsome he may be. I am not swayed by his gorgeous wavy her. Or perfect face or his soft, pale golden eyelashes that... NO! Not bothered. At all.

Jack smirked, one side of his mouth pulling up, parting slightly to show rows of perfect teeth. Then he winked at me. I think everyone in the school yard stopped. It certainly seemed like it. A hush had descended upon the usually squealing teens.

"What do you want Jack?" My voice and mind had softened. Traitors. Falling for those green eyes.

"Party at the beach Saturday. Wondered if you wanted to go. With me." Suddenly, he seemed rather unsure of himself, looking down slightly. His face had lost almost all of its former pride and arrogance. I think my heart stopped.

"Yes!" I gasped.

A smile split across his face as he looked at me. His perfect pearlescent teeth, all even and the same symmetrical shape, glistened in the sunlight. Nowhere near as much as his eyes, which twinkled and sparkled merrily, like gems set into his iris.

"Awesome. Pick you up at seven?"