Oh crud. “Um—”
“Ara and Emily!” Dad said, saving the day.
“Sorry, sir.” Emily winced.
“Ask me again later,” I said, leaning closer.
She nodded and we tuned in to Dad’s lecture; “So,” he continued, “When God created Adam, he also created who?” He pointed his pen to the back of the room.
“Eve.”
“In some versions of the story, yes, that’s true. But it’s also told that God first created a woman named Lilith. Now, she has many names in different cultures: Lilith, Kali, Satrina. She’s also known as The Snake, The Screeching Owl—” I fazed out when I smelled something very similar to David’s orange-chocolate cologne; I looked around, but he wasn’t in the room.
“So, unlike her sister Eve, Lilith was not created from a part of Adam. She was created as his equal. However, Adam would not treat her as such. He tried to force her to submit to him as he pleased, and in a stand for her own rights, Lilith left the Garden of Eden.”
“Sweet, world’s first feminist,” one of the football jocks snickered.
“I have to admit,” I whispered to Em, “this is getting kind of interesting.”
“Very sharp, Mr Grady.” Dad paced the floor, gesturing with his hands as he spoke. “So, at a loss now, God decided to create another woman for Adam. But this time, she would be bound to Adam by the flesh.” Dad stopped and looked around. “Who knows how he did that?”
“She was created from one of Adam’s ribs or something, right?” the paper cannon kid next to me said.
“That’s right. And because she was bound to him she couldn’t…?” Dad pointed around the room, stopping on Emily.
“She couldn’t just leave?”
“Exactly. Lilith, on the other hand, believed Eve was made to be naïve—that God had not given her the knowledge of herself. Some say Lilith acted as the snake that conned Eve into tasting the Forbidden Fruit, also known as the—?”
“Fruit of Knowledge.” Emily grinned, dropping her raised hand.
“That’s right. Ten points to the students paying attention down the front here—” Dad grinned and scribbled only five lines on the top right corner of the board. “And deduct five, for my daughter, who hasn’t heard a word we’ve been saying.” The whole class erupted into a murmur of giggles; I sunk down in my seat—staring daggers at my father.
“Now, as the story continues, Lilith, who was created in God’s exact likeness, lived outside the Garden of Eden. If we jump forward in the story a little—” he looked at his watch, “—you’ll remember from our studies in religion last year that those in God’s likeness have the same power as the Almighty—which included immortality.
“You’ll find that, in many cases throughout history, Lilith was said to be the Goddess of Seduction and believed to have power over men. In fact,” Dad said, raising his index finger, “in many cases, when men were unfaithful, they proclaimed it to have been an act of seduction by the Goddess, and not an act of sin. Sounds like the easy way out if you ask me.” He melodramatically loosened his tie.
The class laughed—but not me; I was still mad at him for singling me out.
“Wasn’t she also said to be a demon, which ate small children?” a student asked.
“Yes, Grace.” Dad raised a brow. “That’s exactly right. There are many different myths surrounding Lilith. If anyone here knows the story of Cain and Abel, you’ll know that Cain murdered his own brother and was punished by God—banished and cursed for eternity with a thirst for blood. Then, he fell in love with the Goddess, Lilith.” Dad smiled at the class. “Can anyone see where I’m going with this?” He looked around; no one answered.
I shrugged when he looked at me. How would I know?
“Okay, well, it’s told that Lilith and Cain had a child—an immortal, who inherited his father’s thirst for blood. The world’s first myth about…?” He waited, his brow arched, cheeks high.
“Vampires,” said a voice from the doorway.
Quiet murmurs spread over the class as everyone turned to look at the boy leaning on the doorframe with his hands in his pockets.
“Very good, David, and you’re not even one of my students. And so—” Dad said as he walked over and took a note from David’s hand, “—you can see that even legends of the most vile of creatures may have some religious origin.”
David looked at me and smiled. It was not returned.
“Ara?” Dad called, still reading the note.
I sat up a little and stared at David, my mind filling with questions. “Yes?”
“Go with David, please?”
All eyes in the class fell on me; I stood up slowly, jammed my books and pens into my bag, then shrugged at Emily as I sauntered past, slipping out the classroom door with David behind me.
“What did you say to my dad?”
He started walking. “I told him I needed to rehearse with you—for the benefit concert.”
“And he bought it?” I asked, the surprise in my voice a little too obvious.
He just laughed.
“Did you talk to your uncle?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“And—” His shoulders dropped. “I still have to leave, but—”
“But what?”
“But he’s granted me, provisionally, the original amount of time I had left.”
“How long?”
His tongue moved between his lips for a second before he pressed them together. “I’m not sure. But, you can count on me being gone by winter.”
Dread made my arms heavy. “Then there’s no need for us to see each other anymore.”
“Oh, no you don’t.” He grabbed my wrist. “You’re coming with me, whether you like it or not.”
“Where?”
“Somewhere else.”
“Why?”
He maintained his tight grip. “If I have to leave in a few months, I won’t waste this time we have left; there are some things I want to do with you, Ara-Rose, and I won’t let the fear I might hurt you stop me from loving you the way I’ve needed to for so long.”
“Hurt me?” The bridge of my nose crinkled. “Why would you hurt me?”
“Just—” He pulled me along by the arm. “Come on. We need to go before we get caught ditching.”