“Aw, David, now I just feel guilty.”
He smiled. “Don’t. Look, I’m sorry I was pushy, but if it means that much to you, I’m glad you bought your own dress, and I will be happy to see you wear it with pride.”
“Really?” A half a smile crept onto my lips.
“Oui, jolie fille.” He touched his hand to the hollow between his collarbones. “I am your eternal servant. You should never feel pressured to do something because I want you to…” He swallowed, his eyes becoming glassy. “And you should never be afraid of me—or my reaction.”
“I wasn’t really afraid—per se. Just anxious.” My shoulders dropped. “I just don’t like disappointing you.”
“My love, nothing you want with your heart will ever be a disappointment to me. You must know that?”
“I do. Now.” I shook my head, laughing softly. “I’m sorry, too, David. I—I mean, it’s not that big a deal—buying my own dress. I guess, in some ways, I just wanted to prove that…that I could make a stand.”
“You, my girl—” He rested his upturned palm along my jaw, “—don’t ever need to prove that to me.”
“David, you’re a vampire—a part of me will always need to prove I’m not weak.”
He looked down then, his eyes focusing on something far away while his lips turned up; my heart skipped at the sight of his dimples.
“What are you smiling at?” I asked.
“I hope you like scary movies.”
An eerie feeling swept over me as my gaze followed his to the front door at the base of the stairs. “Why?”
“Come in, Emily,” Sam said as he passed.
“Hello,” Emily chimed in her high but elegant voice, opening the door.
“Hey, Em.” I stood up.
“Hey,” she said, then turned and waved to someone outside. “Bye, David.”
David? Not surprisingly, when I looked back, my eyes fell upon the plain colours of the corridor walls and the rosewood floorboards below the rug David had been kneeling on. “Right on time, Em.” I looked at the clock on the wall as I reached the base of the stairs.
“Yep, and I hope you like scary movies.” She held up a USB stick. “It’s based in Australia—some place called Wolf Creek?”
I shivered. That’s what David meant. “Uh, wow. That’ll be great,” I lied, not really sure why I did that.
I could almost hear David laughing down the street. Well, I hoped he enjoyed his little joke, because he’d be paying for it when I called him at two in the morning, scared, unable to sleep because the bad man might get me—instead of calling Mike, like always.
My arms folded in smug gratification. Well, there you go, that was one thing I’d let him pay for.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“I don’t know.” Emily grinned at Dad as he stood up. “I think Sam has a point.”
“See, old man,” Sam said. “If a senior agrees with me, I must be right.”
Dad, with a humoured grunt, stacked a pile of plates in the sink and leaned against the counter. “Well, I happen to know that this particular senior is an A grade student because she doesn’t play video games.” He motioned a hand to Emily, who sat taller—bristling with pride.
“Dad.” Sam smirked. “Emily’s only an A grade student because she has a cru—”
“Good work ethic,” I cut in, sure Sam was about to say “crush on her teacher.”
Sam bit his lip, offering Emily an apologetic look; she just shook her head, picking the pineapple off her pizza.
“If only a good work ethic was addictive—like those video games you play, Samuel.” Dad sat back down at the table. “The fact is, my boy, you have an example to set for the other students, being that you’re a—”
“Teacher’s kid. I know, I know.” Sam rolled his eyes. “We’ve all heard the speech, Dad. But, you can’t debate my argument with any profitable reasoning. I learned more about physics by playing Halo than I did from Mr Ester.”
Dad let out a long breath, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“It’s okay, Mr Thompson,” Emily said in an encouraging tone. “Alana and I still believe in the importance of homework, isn’t that right, Lani?”
Alana looked up from her plate and nodded.
“I’m sorry.” I folded my arms. “I’m with Sam on this one. Burnout taught me the logistics of driving a car.”
Dad jostled with a little chuckle. “Exactly.”
“Hey. What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean—” he sat back, folding his arms, “—that there’s a reason you don’t have your licence yet.”
“You don’t have your licence?” Emily practically spat the words out.
“Um…no.” I sank into myself.
“Why?”
“I uh, I’m not very good at driving,” I lied. Truthfully, I just didn’t see the need to be behind the wheel.
“Maybe Alana and I could teach you,” Em offered.
“I think we’ll leave the driving lessons to the experts,” Dad chimed in.
“But, if your methods aren’t working, Mr Thompson, maybe she could learn from those of us closer to her age,” Emily said.
Sam stifled a giggle; Dad raised a brow at him. “When did I become the old guy?”
“Uh, about forty years ago, Dad.” I laughed.
“Hm. Should’ve seen it coming. So—” he said with a change in tone, “what are you girls up to tonight?”
“Scary movie,” Emily said.
“Yay.” I waved an invisible flag, with mock enthusiasm.
“Yeah? Which one?” Sam sat up, suddenly more eager to be a part of the conversation again.
“No way, pest. Girl’s night,” I said.
“Aw. No fair.”
“Life’s not fair, son. Get used to it,” Dad said distractedly—the common disease of resorting to philosophical one-liners taking the intelligence out of any point he may have been trying to make.
“Well, Sam, if you want to paint your nails and look at pictures of Ara’s hunky BFF, then you can have a girl’s night with us,” Emily said.
“Yeah, I’ll pass.” He slumped back in his chair.
“All right, well—” Dad stood up and took the last of the plates, “—Sam and I will get the dishes, and you girls can go talk about boys.”