Chapter 12 #2
There’s a pause on the other end of the line before Mom says, “I’m not sure where he went to school. I know he had a degree in some sort of science. Maybe geology? He never talked too much about it, especially with as short as our time together was. Why do you ask?”
“I was just curious. My friends were talking about their parents earlier and the topic came up, and it just felt weird to not know anything about my dad.”
“That makes sense, I suppose.”
I can tell the topic is uncomfortable for her, but I push anyway. “Did he ever talk about his friends? Or his relatives?”
“Not really. When we met, I knew he was trying to start over, in a way. Had a big falling out with his parents a while before we met and was distancing himself from friends. But Viv, honey, we didn’t date for very long.
He was charming and kind but also very private about his past, and I never pushed him much on it.
I’m sorry, I wish I could tell you more, but I just don’t have much more information than that. ”
There’s genuine regret in her tone that indicates she’s telling the truth. She doesn’t know. Not about Arcadia or magic or whatever other secrets he may have been hiding, which means that I can’t tell her any of what I’ve discovered.
We talk for five more minutes, with Mom asking me about my classes and what campus is like, me explaining the basics (minus the magic and my problematic interest in one of my professors), and her filling me in on the mundane details of home.
“We miss you,” she says again when we’re getting ready to hang up.
“I miss you too, but I’ll be back over winter break,” I assure her. “I know it seems like forever, but it’s really only a little over three months away. Time will go fast.”
We say our goodbyes, and I hang up the telephone before leaning my forehead against the cool glass. The sun is setting now, the gray sky darkening by the minute, and raindrops are tapping against the panes of the phone booth.
I hurry back to my residence hall and head straight to my bedroom. To my dismay, Max is in there, sitting at her desk and writing in a notebook. She doesn’t even acknowledge me as I collapse on my bed, which is perfectly fine by me. Better than the biting, sarcastic remarks she sometimes has.
As I lie there, I examine the photograph that sits on my bedside table in a new light. It’s the only image of my father that I’ve ever had until today. I’ve looked at it thousands of times, memorized every granular detail.
I turn it over, examining the message I’ve treasured my entire life in his distinctive handwriting, and below that, the strange number that I’ve never been able to decipher.
After a while, I had assumed that it was a random tidbit he wrote on the nearest available paper, something not actually meant for me, but now, it feels more important somehow. Like it was intentional.
I return the picture to its frame and set it back on my nightstand, the questions in my head multiplying the longer I stare at the ceiling. Next week, I’ll ask the other professors if they know anything about my father, and I’ll go from there.
The anticipation over the weekend will be almost unbearable, but a flicker of hope sparks within me at the thought of learning more about my father’s past. I only have to wait three more days until the professors are back in classes, and then I can begin my search for information.
I arrive to the party on Saturday night alone and fashionably late.
It’s an hour after the start time I was given, and by the time I find the stairwell to the basement of the old chapel, the party is already raging.
Bass vibrates in my chest as music thrums through the air.
Standing on the periphery, I scan the room, searching for anyone I might know.
The center of the room seems to be designated as the dance floor, while others congregate closer to the walls.
I nearly jump out of my skin when an arm is thrown around my shoulders.
“You’re here!” AJ slurs, apparently already drunk.
I snort and pluck his arm off my shoulders. “Hi. Seems like you’re already having a good time,” I tease.
“Hell yeah. Never been better.”
The chapel basement is larger than I expected it to be, and it’s packed with students in various stages of drunkenness.
It’s a massive rectangular room, cold and gray, but there’s been an effort to liven it up a little.
String lights crisscross over the low ceiling, and patterned tapestries have been hung along the walls.
Random pieces of mismatched furniture are scattered about, everything from couches to floor pillows to office chairs.
In a far corner of the room, a group of about ten people are smoking, though I’m not sure whether they’re hand-rolled cigarettes, joints, or something else from this distance.
Every time someone inhales, they hold the smoke in their mouth for a second or two, wave their fingers over their lips, and blow.
Instead of smoke rings, they produce illusions that seem alive until they dissipate into thin air.
A miniature bunny hopping through the air, a frog leaping over someone’s head, a serpent slithering down to the floor.
I don’t stop staring until AJ nudges me.
“Come on, you need a drink to catch up.”
I follow AJ to a folding table against the wall that’s filled with various liquor bottles, mixers, and a stack of red solo cups.
I decide on something safe—vodka and cranberry juice.
“Cheers.” I raise my cup to AJ, who clinks his against mine with a little too much force, and my drink threatens to slosh over the edge. He doesn’t seem to notice.
“You look really pretty tonight,” he says with a lopsided grin.
My cheeks warm despite the fact that I’m not interested in being anything more than friends with him.
He’s cute, and I can’t say I hate the attention, but he’s not my type.
Honestly, I’m not even sure what my type really is, but AJ seems like the sort of man to flirt for sport rather than to find love.
“Thanks,” I say before taking another sip of my drink.
“I was really hoping you’d show up tonight.”
Before I can respond, Joanna appears from the crowd and joins us. “Hey! I wasn’t sure if you’d be coming. I’m so glad you’re here,” she says with a genuine smile.
“I wasn’t sure if I’d come either,” I admit. “You should keep an eye on this one, though,” I tease, nodding my head toward AJ.
“Hey, I’m perfectly fine,” he protests, then immediately contradicts himself by stumbling slightly.
Joanna rolls her eyes but laughs, and I intentionally shift to switch places with her. I’ve seen how she looks at him in class, and I can tell she has a thing for him.
“I’m going to see if I can find my friend who invited me,” I say. “You two behave.”
Joanna blushes slightly, and AJ says, “No promises.”
I end up walking the perimeter of the room and find Callista at the edge of the dance floor. She’s wearing a silver crop top that’s draped around her neck and shows off her curves. When the song that’s playing ends, she turns to leave the dance floor and catches sight of me.
“Oh my god, you came!”
I smile at her genuine excitement. “Yep, I’m here, though I’m definitely not dancing,” I laugh.
“Let’s go sit. I need a break.” She drags me to an area along the wall where a dozen floor cushions are scattered, and we each take a seat on one.
Someone I don’t recognize brings her a drink, and she’s sucked into conversation with them for a moment while I simply sit back and observe, content to listen rather than speak.
That is, until I hear a conversation that commands my attention.
“Did you hear about the vampire?” a man with white-blonde hair beside me says to his friend. His tone drips with disdain. “Apparently she's been holed up in her room every night, practicing blood magic in secret.”
“That's not possible,” his friend interjects. “Blood magic is strictly prohibited on campus. She'd be expelled immediately.”
“Well, why else would she be here instead of Avalon with the rest of her kind? It’s a lot easier to perform blood magic with unsuspecting humans.”
Discomfort bubbles in my chest, and I’m not sure whether to defend my roommate or stay silent.
I don’t want to make myself a social pariah by defending my vampire roommate, but at the same time, hearing people talk about her like she’s some sort of monster when they don’t even know her sits wrong with me.
Thankfully, someone else speaks up, saying, “Maybe she didn’t want to be like others, and that’s why she came here.”
The conversation shifts again as people discuss their new classes and professors for the semester.
“I have Dr. Vale again this semester, and oh my god,” one of the women says.
My ears perk up at the mention of Alaric's name.
“Is he new?” The blonde guy asks.
“He just came here last year, apparently. Nobody knows very much about him, but he’s supposed to be super smart, and I’ve heard rumors that he’s here to do some sort of super secret research that will give him some major credibility in the field.”
“Where’d you hear that?”
She shrugs. “Just rumors. I have a cousin who works in one of the administrative offices, and she said that Dr. Vale told the administration that he wanted to transfer here to finish his research. That’s kind of all I know, though.”
“Don’t you also have a family member who sent you some Fae wine?” the blonde, whose name I learn is Victor, asks. “Rumor has it that you have a stash.”
Fae wine? So not only are vampires real, but so are the Fae? What else is real? Ghosts, demons, werewolves?
The woman, Talia, grins. “Yes, but I’m saving that for the next party. That stuff is strong.”
Victor makes a comment about her saving some for him before he turns his attention toward me. “Are you a freshman? I don’t think I’ve seen you before.” His gaze is sharp and assessing, and he projects a serious demeanor even when he’s joking. It’s slightly unsettling.