Home > Nocturnal (The Noctalis Chronicles #1)(58)

Nocturnal (The Noctalis Chronicles #1)(58)
Author: Chelsea M. Cameron

“Will you stop? This isn't a normal situation.” I chug a can of soda. I hate relying on caffeine, but I have to stay awake. Tex attacks a bar of chocolate like she's a caveman gnawing on a mastodon bone.

“Does he have pictures of kids on his computer?”

“He doesn't have a computer. He doesn't even have a house!” My temperature is rising.

“Where does he live?”

“I have absolutely no idea.” It hasn't really occurred to me. It probably should have before now. Like way before now. I guess I figured because he doesn't sleep, he doesn't need a bed. Therefore, he doesn't need a house. I've never seen him with stuff. I get out my phone to remedy the situation.

Where do u live? I never asked.

Nowhere. Everywhere.

Where do you keep your stuff?

I'll meet you at your car later. I can show you.

My stomach leaps a little. He's been close all day. I hope he's found a way to occupy himself. I hate to think of him sitting in the parking lot or hanging out down at the railroad tracks with the dope heads. Maybe he's really into Sudoku. Who knows?

“Hey, over here!” Tex snaps her fingers right in front of my face. I slap her hand away.

“Yes, Texas Anne, I see you.”

“Don't call me that.” Her finger points back in my face. “Only my mother calls me that. You know how much I hate it.”

“Yeah, I know.” Of course I'm the one who caves. I always cave, especially when it comes to Tex. Her personality is too strong.

“I'm just looking out for your best interest.”

“I know, I know.”

“Does anyone else know about this?” She looks around as if someone else might pop up.

“Just you.” I crumple up my chip bag and toss it in the trash. “I think I'm going to tell my mom.”

Tex ceases her chocolate massacre. “You're going to tell your mom?” she says.

“Why not?”

“This just keeps getting weirder.” The bell rings, but we don't move.

“Curiouser and curiouser.” I quote Alice in Wonderland. I've definitely fallen down the rabbit hole.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

***

My face breaks out into a huge smile that makes my cheeks hurt when I see Peter leaning on my car. The first thing I notice are his shoes. Birkenstocks. He must have swiped them from somewhere. I make a mental note to ask.

“Hey.”

“Well hello again.” I forgot Tex was behind me.

“Hello, Ava. Texas.” He nods at her. She smirks back at him. She's unbearable when she knows a secret. I'd forgotten how awful it is.

“What are you two lovebirds up to?” Her eyebrows are doing this up and down thing that I don't remember her face ever doing. What is wrong with her?

“Nothing. Ready to go?” I give him a look and try to send him some vibes.

“Yes. Would you excuse us?” I never knew he could be so polite, but they were like that back in the old days. Must be some relic of his past life. I squint at him, sending him a question mark.

“Call me later.” Tex pinches my arm, hard. I'm forced to look at her and she winks at me. I'm starting to think it was a bad idea telling her.

“Okay,” I say, giving her a thumbs up. She prances off to her own car.

“I am sorry about that. I don't know who that is, but she's stolen my best friend's body.” I shake my head at him and we get in the car.

“So what did you do today?”

“Ran.”

“Around the school? All day?”

“Yes.” I wait for him to elaborate, but in true Peter fashion, he doesn't.

“Whatever floats your boat,” I say, leading the way to my car.

Peter directs me to one of the most remote parts of Sussex. There are only trails and places for hunters and old houses that no one cares about anymore. It's supposed to be one of the most haunted places in town, and I don't doubt it. It's kind of ironic, then, that he's taking me here.

“This isn't some ploy to get me alone in the woods so you can have a snack, is it?”

“No.”

“Thanks for the reassurance.”

“I will not harm you.” Define harm. Using me as a blood slushie machine might qualify as harm for most people. I try to find his eyes under his hair. It's always like a scavenger hunt until I find them.

I'll totally let him have whatever he wants, if he asks for it. My face goes red thinking about it.

“I'm sorry. That was mean. I know you won't hurt me. You wouldn't have done this whole thing if you didn't have to.”

“No. I would not.” He points to a ditch in the road where you can sort of park a car.

“Where are we going?”

“For a walk.” This time he comes around the car and opens the door for me. Such service. He takes my hand as soon as I get out of the car. It makes me feel all gooey and mushy inside, and a little rush runs through me. It's like being on drugs. He makes my brain explode like fireworks.

We walk quietly, enjoying the afternoon. I do feel a little guilty for not going home and checking off the next thing on my mother's list, balancing my checkbook and paying bills, but I need a break, if only for a few hours. It's like therapy, only cheaper. All it requires is a little blood donation. Speaking of that...

“Are you hungry? I know you said you only drink every two weeks, but I don't want you to suffer. You can take some. If you want.”

“I am fine. Thank you.”

“Just let me know. My veins are at your service.”

I had a teacher in third grade that called my parents in for a conference once. She was one of those people who had taken a few classes at the community college and fancied herself a psychologist. She said that I used humor to deal with difficult situations and recommended some weird therapy. My mother laughed. Dad kind of sided with the teacher until Mom talked him around. He always sided with her, even before the cancer, kind of like a sheep that needed to be led. But hey, my humor had gotten me through a lot. Someone had to find it in this situation.

Peter is attentive, holding branches so they won't whack me in the face, and guiding me around tree roots. He's taking this potential boyfriend thing seriously. Maybe he's just practicing. It's nice, whatever it is.

We go so far in that the only noises are from the birds and the wind rushing through the leaves. I can't even hear the road. The air has a moist quality to it, like it's part plant part earth. I breathe it in.

“Wait here.” He stops just before one of the biggest trees I've ever seen. I have no idea what kind it is. I never really paid attention in biology class. My mother would know. If Peter and I each went on one side and hugged the tree with our arms out, we wouldn't encompass the trunk. It's not tall, but it's large. He goes around the other side and comes back holding a huge trunk. If he wasn't so strong, he would have had to drag it. It's one of those old foot lockers, covered in rust. I can't even tell what color it used to be. He sets it down and pulls out a key from his pocket.

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