We Will Be Together For Never

[19] Party Details

Jordan wasn't in math class. I couldn't help the bead of worry that fixed itself in my stomach. I knew it was stupid, but I couldn't help but feel that it was something about the questions I had asked him the night before.

As the teacher droned on, I felt my cell phone buzz, since my leg was pressed into my bag. I reached into my backpack and slipped it surreptitiously into my lap. When Miss Calder turned away, I glanced at the screen.

It was from Sasha in response to my morning text. "More details at lunch :) ." Sighing, I returned my phone to my backpack.

Somehow, I made it to lunch period without a mishap. In fact, feeling brave, I had skipped the blood packet I was meant to take between my first two periods, trusting myself enough to do so. Sure enough, I made it into the bathroom after third period without a single student or teacher being drained or even being unknowingly in danger.

I slurped down one of my blood packets and rubbed at my temples. I was starting to get one hell of a headache. Maybe I shouldn't have skipped that blood packet, I thought regretfully, bending over and gasping as a sudden spike of pain shot through my skull. I scrabbled in my backpack and devoured the blood packet that I should have taken that morning, exhaling in short breaths out of pain.

Almost immediately, my headache subsided. I sighed in relief.

So, no skipping blood. Duly noted. It was inconvenient, but when I thought of the alternative that Roger had offered, a shudder wracked my body. No. Way.

I cleaned up and went to lunch.

Today, I wasn't even trying - I hadn't brought a lunch and didn't intend to buy one. I sat down at the table. Everyone was already there and deep in conversation, all but Bea. Hoping to further our relationship, I asked casually, "How are you?" hoping she wouldn't notice or mention my lack of food.

Bea shrugged. "As well as can be expected." She smiled as if she sensed that she should explain. "This school isn't the most tolerant place, but none of my teachers ever...you know. Say anything."

I nodded understandingly, as if I could begin to comprehend the struggles Bea went through on a daily basis. Then again, I too, had issues. Being bullied on a daily basis for who I was, though? It didn't - couldn't - happen. Mostly because I kept who I was under wraps, but although that was exhausting, I couldn't imagine being brave enough to be completely honest to everyone.

Sasha grabbed my arm, dragging me from my conversation. "You wanted details on the party," she confirmed excitedly. I nodded.

"It's being thrown by Andrea." Sasha pointed across the cafeteria at a girl with long, blond hair who was laughing at something her friend had just said. She looked like a stereotypical preppy teenager, but then, who I was to assume? I was certain I looked like a normal teenaged outcast when I was even more so than anyone could hope to guess.

"Her parents are out of town so she's throwing a party at her mansion," Sasha continued. "Everyone's invited. It's literally 'bring whoever you think would be coo to hang with,' but no one under fifteen without a non-parental ride, or who's graduated high school. Basically, a lot of upperclassmen are struggling to find age-appropriate dates."

I couldn't help the smile at this joke that crossed my face. There was a college about a half hour out of town, in another city, so it didn't surprise me that many girls had managed to land themselves "impressive" college boyfriends, although I felt kind of sorry for them. I doubted the college boys involved in the relationships wanted much past the physical aspects.

"I don't have anything to wear," I told Sasha, trying to sound disappointed and hoping this was a good enough excuse to notgo.

"You can have one of my dresses," she said dismissively.

I sighed. Failed. "I don't know if my dad will let me go," I tried.

"Then lie. Or stretch the truth. You'd have to stretch it pretty damn thin, though," Sasha admitted with a chuckle.

The thought of lying to Roger made me feel strangely uncomfortable. I had nothing against lying - my entire school identity was a lie, after all - but Roger had saved me, killing one of his own kind, and had proceeded to raise me as a vampire out of the kindness of his heart. As ungrateful and rude as I had been to him lately, I couldn't add lying to my list of offenses.

"So will you come?" Sasha asked hopefully.

"Ooh, is Tamara coming to the party?" Sapphire broke in suddenly, peering eagerly around her girlfriend.

"She doesn't know," Sasha said, not taking her intense gaze off of me.

"We'll get her," Sapphire said dismissively, adding her stare to me. I squirmed uncomfortably.

"I'll see what I can do," I finally murmured, to get them to stop staring at me.

"'Atta girl!" Sasha exclaimed happily, shaking my shoulder. I was suddenly glad for the fact that I hadn't brought a human lunch. With the new and very real threatening choice of either a party or disappointing my new friends, I wasn't sure that I could have forced down the food.

For the rest of lunch, I sat silently in my own bubble of stressed thoughts. Mostly, my mind kept drifting back to Jordan.

I wasn't an idiot. I couldn't deny what was happening to me. I just hated that it was happening with a furious, burning suddenty.

I had had enough crushes to recognize a new one looming nearby. It just couldn't have picked a worse time to appear.

I was snapped out of my somber thoughts when Sasha shoved her phone in my face. I blinked, taken aback.

"We've got a few choices in the way of dresses," Sasha explained. She began flipping through some photos, blathering on about each option. I nodded when it was called for and gave my input where she seemed to expect it. Otherwise, I merely silently listened.

Finally, the bell rang, releasing us from lunch. I had agreed on a tight white dress, "To compliment your gorgeous hair and eyes!" and was only fine with the fact that it was rather short because I was still convinced that I wouldn't be attending this party.

I was quick to leave the cafeteria.

*

Jordan wasn't in journalism, either. It was lucky timing for him - we were having a review day on simple journaling topics such as bias and witness levels, as we were about to begin a new unit.

I mostly tuned out the teacher, taking small notes here and there when I felt like it. I had too much on my plate to truly concern myself with class.

After all, I had already been stressed about the upcoming party. Now I had to worry about Jordan as well.