Wicked Hunger

Wicked Hunger Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Follow

I don’t know how I resisted telling Ivy everything last night. I had already decided that keeping her close was worth the consequences of revealing the truth. I didn’t know where to start, though, so I let Ivy take the lead by asking me questions. Her first question, “How was Van able to heal herself so fast after scorching her hand on the oven?” seemed to knock some common sense back into my head. My sister’s name reminded me that I wouldn’t be the only one facing the consequences if I told Ivy everything and got burned.

So I tried to answer her questions as vaguely as possible. I did admit that we can both heal quickly, and that we have trouble controlling our impulses, but I tried to play it up as some of the same craziness that landed Oscar in a mental hospital. Ivy didn’t completely believe me and I ended up giving her a very basic explanation of our hunger. She did seem to be satisfied with the answers she was able to get out of me and stopped pushing after a while.

I know the conversation isn’t over. At some point, I’ll either be forced to tell her the whole truth or walk away. I can’t stand the idea of walking away from her.

Ivy thinks she can help me. No one else has been able to, but she seemed so sure of herself. She wants to help me, which feels incredibly good. It’s probably wishful thinking on her part. If not…if she could really show me how to control my hunger, there might be a real possibility of me getting to live a semi-normal life. That’s a huge if.

Walking quickly, almost skipping, Ivy makes her way across the parking lot to me. The struggle to control my hunger begins. Watching her come toward me sends equal amounts of anxiety and pleasure through my body. She doesn’t seem to share in my nerves. Her bright smile is almost enough to chase away my dark thoughts, but not quite. The way Van flipped out when I told her about the movie keeps shoving my hope back down.

“So,” Ivy says when she approaches me, “are you ready to give this a try?”

I hesitate. “Ivy, I’m not so sure a movie is a good idea. It’s dark and close …”

“But we’ll be surrounded by other people too, and movies are always so loud. You said noise and other people help distract you.”

True. That was part of the reason my mom always kept classical music playing in our house, and why we were encouraged to try team sports rather than individual sports. But a theater might contain others that excite my hunger, and that will only make this harder. “It’s still risky. I’ll be right next to you, smelling and feeling you every second. It might be more than I can handle.”

“You’ll be fine,” she reassures me. “I told you how after the break in at our apartment I was so freaked out that my mom made me do all this meditation stuff. I’ve gotten pretty good at it. It will help.”

“Ivy …”

Giving me a stern look, Ivy says, “The only way you’re ever going to be able to stay with me is if you can get used to me, right?”

I nod.

“So we have to try something or we might as well just go our separate ways now. Is that what you want?”

“No, of course not.” I argue with her, but in truth, I will try anything she suggests. I have to find a way to be with Ivy without killing her.

Ivy slowly moves closer to me. The scent of her, the feel of her life force nudging my hunger tightens my muscles. She takes another step. An ache begins in the center of my chest. Ivy’s plan is to desensitize me to her presence. Judging by how being close to her now feels even worse than last night, I don’t have a lot of faith in her plan.