Chapter 26 -- Bowled Over
I was in my sisters' bedroom, doing my homework, when Mother came in and sat down on Gretchen's former bed.
"I couldn't sleep," she said. "I didn't want you to spend another minute thinking you were a dimwit, as you called it. You are smarter than most people, smarter than I am and yes, smarter than your father. But you're not quite as smart as your two sisters, and that's not your fault. You were the brightest little toddler, but when it came time for you to blow out the candles on your cake, there was a glitch. You grew up with less time than your sisters had and at something of a disadvantage.
"You had another problem. Your father never expected much from the girls, but he regarded you as his true heir, the only one that was born a vampire. So he was always delighted with anything Gretchen and Nadia accomplished, but even when you did the same thing, it was just what he'd expected from you, nothing special. That wasn't fair, but that's the way it was. I'm -- I'm sorry I didn't speak up for you more. I did try once, but he seemed to think that you'd put me up to it somehow, and was harder on you than before. Do you forgive me?"
"It's okay, Mom," I said. She smiled at me through her tears. I didn't often call her Mom because Father would get angry at both of us -- me, for using a casual and disrespectful form of address, and her for allowing it.
After she left, I couldn't concentrate on my homework any more, so I called Alexander and asked if he wanted to go for a late night swim.
Watching Alexander cannonball into the pool, I couldn't help noticing how broad his shoulders were, how sculpted his muscles.
I splashed him when he came to the surface, and he splashed me back. When we got out of the pool, I told him what my mother had said. "Well, I always knew you were smart," he said. "You don't get an A in trigonometry if you're not."
"You look pretty good in a swimsuit," I teased him. "Have you ever thought about becoming a model?"
Alexander groaned. "Did I just say you were smart? I take that back. I don't have the face for it, but you could be a model. Put your pretty face on top of my handsome body, and one of us could make millions."
We took a picture together. Later, during trig class, as it happened, I found myself sneaking a look at the selfie again. Alexander really did have good-looking muscles.
When I came home from school, Father had more vampire lessons for me. "You're never going to make it to Grand Master just by doing dark meditation," he said. "You have to go out and spar with some vampires your own age. But let me see your dark form before you go."
"Could be worse," he sniffed. From Father that was high praise. "The Pritchett family lives in a nice house, and they have a teen-aged daughter -- Danielle or Danica, something like that. If you transform her, you should have a sparring partner for now. And when Iggy Pancakes and J's boys become teens, you can turn them, too."
I was a bit nervous about trying to mesmerize someone. The only person I'd tested the skill on was Father, and of course I'd failed miserably with him. But Danica let me go through the process willingly.
When she drank the plasma from my vein, I had a feeling that she'd be a more successful vampire than I was. I had to push her away to get her to stop.
I wanted to forget about the whole thing, and when Alexander called, suggesting we go do some karaoke, I was more than willing. We sounded terrible, but the only person who had to listen was the bartender.
We did a country and western duet, and while we were singing, Alexander's shoulder just barely brushed mine. I was so startled that I lalalaed through the next few lines until I picked up the lyrics again.
"Dude, that was so bad," he said when we finished. "What happened to you?"
"I spaced out, Al," I said.
"Al?" he said. "No one calls me Al."
"Well if you were Al, then I could be Bal," I said. "Al and Bal, the next teen heartthrobs."
Early the next morning, I went to see Olivia Kim-Lewis, who was in the same class as Al. Father wanted a report on her dark form, so I tried to give him one. "She looks kind of like a voodoo queen," I said. "Purple turban, long black dress with a high collar in back, and those elbow-length lacy black gloves. Pretty scary, actually."
I defeated her in our first spar, but Father wasn't impressed because it was Olivia's first spar, too. He'd have been disappointed if I 'd lost, but my winning was something he took for granted. I reminded myself of what Mom had told me and felt a little better.
That evening I went fishing with Al. I'd been in a fog at school most of the day, thinking about him and wondering what it would be like if we were more than just friends. What if I told him how I felt? Would he laugh at me or get angry? It was too much to hope that he'd feel the same way too. All the time we were fishing, I kept trying to scrape up the courage to say something, but I was silent. Al was silent, too. It was a companionable silence, maybe, but I'd always thought companionable silences were supposed to be comfortable.
As we started to leave, I knew I had to do something. I closed my eyes and lunged at his mouth for a kiss.
"Sorry," I said. "I couldn't think how to tell you how I felt."
Al took my hands. "I have feels for you, too, Bal," he told me.
We took a picture together to commemorate the occasion.
Bal, he called me Bal, I kept thinking deliriously. And we agreed to go bowling the next day in the newly built Dust Bowl across the street from my house.
We were even worse at bowling than we were at karaoke. Al slipped and landed on his back.
I dropped the ball behind me.
But we kept practicing, and eventually I knocked down more pins than were left standing.
When Al accomplished the same task, we decided to call it quits for the night.
As we re-racked the balls, Al said, "We should get some girls to join our bowling club. It would give us some cover."
I didn't like that idea. "Do we really need cover?" I asked.
"I'd rather no one knew about us just yet," he said. When I looked a bit sad, he suggested that we go back to his house. "Mortimer and Bella have gone to a movie," he said. That was one of the cool things about Al, that he referred to his parents by their first names.
For a while we snuggled on the couch, not saying much, just enjoying each other's closeness.
Then I started tickling him. "Whoa, whoa, don't make me laugh," he whispered. "We might wake Cassandra."
Cassandra. I'd forgotten about Cassandra. Al's sister. The woman I was supposed to marry.
