“You’re shoving me away because of a boy, Al. We were supposed to be learning to fight together.” Mindy’s voice carried all the way to the kitchen. “I mean I get that you’re better than me, but I don’t suck.”
“Come on Mindy. It’s not like that.”
“It is. Ditching your best friend for a boy. Totally lame.”
“You just don’t get it. I?—”
“What? What don’t I get? You’ve been acting different ever since you got back from Rome. You’re not talking to me, Allie. What happened to best friends forever?”
“I amnotbeing different.” Her voice was hard and harsh, and I knew that Mindy had inadvertently cut deep. I took astep toward the stairs, then forced myself to stop. This was something the girls had to work out between themselves.
“Whatever,” Mindy said. “You know where to find me if you want to hang out. And as for hunting tomorrow, good luck. I hope you don’t die.”
The words were nice, but the tone was bitchy. Then, from my perspective near the sink, I saw her open the back door, and disappear into the backyard. At the same time, Allie came into the kitchen with a huff, then pulled herself up short when she saw me. “You heard all of that?”
“I heard.”
She flopped down at the table. “She’s being totally unreasonable.”
“Is she?”
“Mom. Don’t even start with me.”
“Why haven’t you told her? She’s your best friend. You haven’t even told her that Jared’s a vampire, have you?” I realized that I hadn’t told Laura, either. But that was an oversight, not intent. I was so used to her knowing everything, I’d forgotten to bring her up to speed, something I’d do as soon as I saw her.
At the table, Allie let out a teenage-quality sigh of frustration. “She knows I like him. What if Daddy had decided he was evil and killed him? I really didn’t think I wanted to have that conversation with anybody.”
I went and took the chair beside her. “Allie, you need your friends. You and Mindy have been through a lot, and she loves you.”
If it was possible, she seemed to sag even further. “I know. But...” She trailed off, not meeting my eyes.
“But?”
She leaned back in her chair and huffed again, her attitude switching from dejected to teenage frustration. “Mom. You knowwhat I am. Or you don’t know what I am. And that’s the problem. What if she looks at me different? What if she’s scared of me?”
My heart broke a little. “Why would she be?”
“Duh. I mean I’m scared of me.”
I reached over and took her hand. “Oh baby. I know it’s hard, but you are you.”
“Yeah. I am me. But what is that? A freak?”
“No. Definitely not.”
She scowled as she pulled her hand away so she could hug herself. “I don’t know. Maybe I am.”
I fought back tears, hating the realization that I could do nothing to help but be there for her. There was no Band-Aid I could put on this boo-boo, and kisses wouldn’t fix it anymore than a Popsicle before dinner.
All I could do was trust that we’d raised her right and be there for her as she worked through it all.
I didn’t like the feeling. I wanted to do, to fix.
But I knew I couldn’t. And like Allie, somehow, I was going to have to find a way to live with this new reality.
“So have you looked at Eliza’s papers yet?” Laura asked that afternoon as we walked through Old Town toward Eyes Only. I’d filled her in on everything—from girl drama to vampires to demons who couldn’t seem to decide it they wanted to kill my family or worship it. I’d also told her about the boxes of family information that Eliza had mentioned, one box of which Stuart had brought back with him from San Diego.
“Mostly random papers and stuff,” Eliza had said when I called to thank her. “A few pictures of our moms, that kind of stuff.”
