“Your blood, like ice. One look could kill my pain, your thrill.” –Poison -Alice Cooper

By Monday my skin is hardly shedding and I’m able to freely show my expressions without pain. The redness hasn’t disappeared but I’m giving it twenty-four hours.

“I can’t believe it takes so long for vampires to heal,” Izze teases.

“Shut up,” Payton bites. “Unless you want to switch places with Page.”

“Mmmm, sorry,” Izze replies.

“It’s okay.” I smile, relaxing in my couch. It feels good to be able to do this again. “Tomorrow I’ll be able to go to school and everything will be right side up.”

“Err, right.” Izze looks over at Payton.

“What?” I glance at each of them, worry seeping in. “What is it?”

Even Pay looks confused. But then she brightens, sits straight and pulls a note from the back pocket of her jeans.

I open it and read:

Fare,

I’m so sorry. If I really was a vampire I would go out in the sun and stand out there twice as long to make up for what I had done to you. But I can’t because I am not an extraordinary creature like you. I’m sorry for doubting you and making you look like a shriveled prune-

“Prune?” I look up to my friends. They shrug.

“We didn’t read it, Page,” Izze says truthfully. “Is he talking about his favorite fruit?”

“He called me a prune,” I explain.

“Well, maybe he means it in a way of admiration. If he likes prunes maybe he likes you?” Izze offers lamely.

“Izze?” Payton turns towards Green-Topped Girl.

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

-I never meant it to end up that way. if there is anything I can do for you, let me know.

-Damien

I pass the note to my friends and let them scan it over, trying to decode anything hidden.

“It’s just a note you guys,” I say.

“You know you have to reply to this,” Payton looks up at me.

“Yeah, I know.”

“So, what’re you going to say to him?” Izze hands the paper back to me. I crumple it into a ball and chuck it across the living room.

“To leave me alone,” I say simply.

I can’t believe he called me a shriveled prune.

“I can’t believe he called you a shriveled prune,” Izze laughs.

Payton smiles, “Me neither.”

“Shut up,” I say.

…

Usually I’m the last one to make it to French class, but this time I was one of the early birds. No one notices anything abnormal about me-realizes that my life had gone off kilter for an entire weekend.

Everything is back to it’s normal, boring, drawling self. I love it.

I do my usual routine of rubbing sunscreen over my face, completely painless, and arms.

Izze claps me on the back as she appears and talks my ears off with Italian Soda, movies to see this weekend, and I start to tune her out.

“…Damien.”

“Huh?” I’m full ears.

Izze laughs and repeats, “Damien is absent today. I can’t believe you haven’t noticed. Class as been going on for half an hour and he’s still not here.”

“Oh.” I shrug. Something inside me stirs. It’s not concern or curiosity either. It’s more…uneasiness. Like I know something bad has or will happen.

“Whatever you’re thinking is just in your head,” Izze promises after examining my pallid face. “You always think too much. Just chill and don’t freak until something happens, okay?”

“Until it happens…” I repeat.

“That’s a good girl. Now come on, the bell’s run.”

We gather our stuff and shuffle out of the room in search of our next class.

…

“I find it so weird no one’s gossiping about your return,” Payton whispers at lunch. “I mean, they freaked on Damien’s first day of school which is the most trivial thing to get worked up about.”

“Well, what I find weird is Damien isn’t here today,” Izze confesses. “I mean, you’d think he’d want to see you.”

“Why would he want to see me?”

“Because he wants forgiveness, duh.”

“Look.” I fold my arms. “He’s not here because he’s probably sick. I’m not going to forgive him because he put me through the feeling of hell. And what guy asks for forgiveness through a note, huh? That’s right, no one! This is the twenty-first century people, so let’s live in the moment and use text or phone calls now.”

Izze leans over toward Pay. “I think she’s lost it.”

“I think so too,” Payton agrees, liking her ranch-dipped plastic fork.

I sigh. “What I’m really meaning to say is that it’s not worth talking about Damien or people that talk about Damien.”

Silence.

“I’m going to throw this away.” I pick up my sack lunch.

“Hey, can you take mine too?” Izze hands me her.

The trash can is absurdly far. There’s five of them placed around the cafeteria but the closest one is around the corner by the vending machines.

When I turn the corner, I see someone. I can’t decide if I’m surprised or scared.

“Fare,” he says.

“Damien,” I return, throwing the trash in the can next to him.

“I want to talk.”

“Where were you in class?” I ask him. Damien stands there, patently mystified. “In French. Where were you this morning.”

“Oh, well,” he considers answers but says, “it doesn’t matter. I want to apologize.”

“Okay.” I turn around.

“Am I forgiven?”

“No.” I look back at him coldly. “Your apology is not accepted and the only thing you can do for me is leave me alone.”

Damien looks like he’s about to agree, finally set me free, and hope as well as sadness rises within me.

Damien exhales, wearily, and says, “I can’t.”

I cock my eyebrows. “You can’t.”

“Yes. I mean, no. Yes.”

“What?” I’m totally confused.

“I can’t leave you alone,” he blurts. “I mean, I’d be happy to do it if that’s what you wanted-”

“That’s what I want.”

“But I can’t.”

My lips tighten. “Why not?”

“I just…” Damien takes a swig of his water bottle he had purchased from the vending machine, “can’t.”

So…WEIRD.

Is it can’t or won’t?

“Don’t tell me you’re in love with me or something,” I laugh, nervous at the thought.

“Love?” his eyes glow. “What’s love?”

I’m looking at him like he’s crazy.

“No, I mean I know what love is,” he rectifies his words. “I just don’t know what love feels like. So, I can’t know if I’m in love with you or not.”

He sounds so serious. What happened to the cocky jerk? The man who pushed me around and teased me to the point I was toast?

“Are you serious? You better not be playing some stupid prank on me.”

“Of course, I’m serious!” He answers, insulted. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Asking about love? Please.” I scoff. “You could care less about love.”

“How would you know?” Damien challenges. “You hardly know me.”

“Yeah, and you hardly know me and I ended up a crisp trying to show you.”

“Yes, and I’m trying to apologize for that,” he says, exasperated.

“No, you’re asking about love. What does that have to do with saying you’re sorry?” I look around, hoping no one has been drawn to my yelling. “Where did everyone go?”

“The bell rang. They’re going to third period,” Damien answered.

I glared at him and shrugged. “Well, there’s no way I could tell you what love is like.”

As I head back to grab my things, I hear his voice call after me, “Because you don’t know what love feels like either, huh?”

“I know what it is!” I yell back.

I’m met with silence and when I look back, he’s walking in the opposite direction, leaving me coated in flames.

…

“And that’s what happened,” I breathe heavily, snatching some crackers off Payton’s table.

“Well,” she takes time in replying, “I think he’s right.”

“What?” Crumbs fly through my open mouth.

“Well, for one, you’ve never even actually liked someone before,” Izze intervened.

“I liked your cousin, Roy.”

“You liked his looks, not his personality.”

“You’ve liked guys just because of their looks, Iz,” Payton pointed out.

“What I mean is, what Page had for Roy definitely involved no special feelings.”

I threw a salted cracker at her.

“I can’t believe he’s never experienced love before.” Payton shook her head.

“He looks like the guy that’s hooked up with plenty of girls. Just look at him. Gorgeous, attractive, funny, smart, hot, considerate and really, really, really sexy.”

“I think you just used for adjectives for looks,” Payton noticed.

“I think that’s lust instead of love,” I replied.

“Yeah, but you’ve had neither,” Izze laughed and this time I threw a handful of crackers at her.

“Hey!” She flung them back, which resulted in a cracker battle that Payton chose not to be a part of. Instead she watched and ate her share of finger snacks.

“Have you ever been in love, Izze?” I yelled over the crackers. I know for sure Payton hasn’t.

“Um…” Izze thinks, stopping. “I have been in love too many times to count. Cupid is seriously starting to get on my nerves.”

And then she threw a cracker at me.