“Oh, that sounds like fun. I finally got in touch with the girls, and they're coming over this afternoon.” I almost wrench my head around to meet her eyes, but I don't.
“You sure?”
She nods. “Absolutely.”
“Do you want me to leave?”
“No, baby, you don't have to leave. You can stay if you want. It's your house and I'm sure they would love to see you.”
I haven't seen her friends in a long time. Before her terminal cancer diagnosis, I saw them nearly every week for some sort of get-together so they could complain about the school board, kids, stretch marks, and other mom things. Mom has other things on her mind now.
I'm not sure if I want to be around today, but I know Mom will need the support. Dad will be no help and he'll probably hide in his office like he usually does when they get together. What is it about men and groups of women? It's like they're allergic to them or there's too much estrogen for them to take or something.
“Okay, well I'll be home later. You making them lunch?” I ask.
“I thought I'd do pasta salad. You want to help?”
I grin at her. “What kind of question is that? Of course I do.”
“Oh, good. I don't want to infringe on your friend time.” It isn't really friend time, but I can't tell her that. She took the Peter-being-immortal Thing Two and Two-and-a-half well, but I don't think she'll take this well. Yay for Things Three and Four.
“You could never do that,” I say. I want to get up and hug her, so I pull my wet hair over my neck.
“You sure you're okay?” she says, studying my face.
“Yeah, just tired.”
“Did you stay up late reading again?”
“Uh huh.” God, I'm a bad liar. I can tell from her tone that she knows I'm lying, but doesn't know exactly what I've been up to.
“Don't feel like you have to rush back. Have fun with Tex. Tell her I miss seeing her.” Yeah, I miss having Tex over, too. Maybe it's time to pull the trigger and tell her about Mom.
I flop back on my pillow when she leaves.
“Peter, why does this have to suck so much?” My ironic use of the word suck is lost on me until a few seconds after I say it. He slips back through the window and comes to sit next to me on my bed.
“I am sorry you have so many burdens. I wish I could take them from you.” He starts rubbing my feet. Yup, he's perfect.
“Yeah, me too.” I sigh again. “What am I going to do about this?” I gesture to my neck.
“I am not sure. I wish I could heal it for you.”
“Yeah that would be nice. That should be part of the Claiming package. Instant healing, now for only three easy payments of nine dollars and ninety-nine cents.”
“I am sorry. I did not know another way to manage it.”
“I'm not mad at you, so stop being like that,” I say. My fingers find the wound, poking at it. It doesn't hurt as much as I thought it would. Maybe I'm getting desensitized. That would be kind of nice, being desensitized to pain.
“I guess it's time for the scarf again.” I really should buy another one. The one I have is cute, a dark blue paisley, but I need something else.
“I went back to the thrift store and found something for you,” he says, going to his drawer. I didn't know he did that. When had that happened? “I may have gone after hours, but I left money in the till.”
He pulls out a bag from the store and hands it to me. It's the first real present he's gotten for me. I take something out of the bag. It's a beautiful green scarf in a material so soft and shiny that I have to fight the urge to rub it against my face.
“You seem to really have a thing for green,” I say, wrapping it around my neck and trying to figure out the best way to tie it so it hides my bite without making me look like I'm hiding something. I twitch it into place.
“How does it look?”
“Perfect.”
I go to the mirror in my bathroom and look at it. The scarf is gorgeous, and it almost matches my eyes. That sneaky Peter.
“Thank you,” I say, walking toward him with the intent to kiss him. He moves away at the last minute.
“We should go,” he says. I've been denied twice in one day. My ego is bruised, but I'm not going to show him that.
I nod instead and go downstairs, saying good-bye to Mom as I grab my keys. Dad is MIA, which is good. I dash out before Mom can comment on the scarf. Actually, I have a good reason for wearing it if I tell her that Peter gave it to me. Brilliant.
He meets me at the end of the driveway and gets in the car without a word. Mom is still unaware that he spends the night in my bedroom. I'm not ready to broach that conversation, either. So many secrets.
The drive to Tex's house is mostly silent.
“Aren't you worried?” I finally say, because I can't stand it anymore.
“About what?”
“The bind that Viktor made to avenge Ivan. Aren't you worried?” Has he forgotten?
He blinks. “Not particularly. He is my brother. We will find a way out of this.”
“No offense, I'm glad you got us out of there, but undoing a promise with another promise seems kind of silly.” Actually, it sounds like the dumbest thing ever, but they're supposed to be the brilliant immortals.
“We did what we could at the time. We will work it out.”
“I wish I had your confidence,” I say. How can he be so sure? He was sure of Cal and look how that turned out.
“So do I.” Grr.
The only car in Tex's driveway is hers, so I feel comfortable going inside. Still, I have this vision of Viktor waiting for us with a chainsaw like we're in some horror movie. That's ridiculous because I'm pretty sure a chainsaw wouldn't stand a chance against Peter.
“You're alive!” A pair of arms throws themselves around me, and my face is pressed to Tex's chest as soon as I step in the door. Hello, boobs.
“Can't breathe,” I manage to get out.
She pulls back. Her eyes are wide and excited behind her purple glasses. Wait a second... There is something different about her. Something, more? It's like she got a haircut, only times a million.
“What happened to you? You look...” I can't put my finger on it.
“Uh, yeah, that's what we want to talk to you about,” she says, holding her hand out behind her, as if she's reaching for something. Or someone. Viktor emerges from the living room and takes it. Well, that's a development.
“So you guys are like, together?”
“More than that,” Tex says, looking back at him with a look I've never seen on her face. It isn't that flirty look or the sexy face she tries to make. It's pure and she looks happy. Really, really happy. What the... I look at her face and back at his.