Blood Orange Soda: Paranormal Romance (25 page)

“What?! You’re juicing, too?”

“Only to speed up my transformation.”

“But still, Darius—”

“Angel, I’m a Vampire. Soda is
meant
for Vampires.”

“I know, I know, but I thought you were only off the Reds and that you’d transform gradually,” she says. “I guess I was hoping for more time.”

I hadn’t even considered how my transformation might affect Angel. I’ve been so self-absorbed, and now I’m noticing how upset she is.

“You wanted more time for what?” I ask.

“To get used to the idea that our friendship is changing,” Angel says, looking away.

“Our friendship won’t change.” I rest my hand on her knee. “We’ll always be friends.”

“Weezer will transform too, eventually,” she says. “I wish he’d do it now so I wouldn’t have to live through this twice.”

“He’s not ready, Angel. And he might stay on the Reds and live a Normal life.”

“He’ll change. Once he sees you as a Vampire, he’ll want that life, too,” she says, with tears welling up in her eyes. “All of our lives will be different once you’re both Vampires.”

I give Angel a hug and feel the warmth of her body against mine. She holds me, too, just like when we dated. I feel guilty about it, as if I’m crossing a line and betraying Weezer...and Shelby. She isn’t pulling away, but instead she leans on me for support.

“Remember when we were dating, and swimming at the rock quarry, and you dove off that cliff?” Angel asks.

“My naked dive? Yeah,” I say, as I loosen my hug and remain seated next to her. “What about it?”

“It’s like you’re taking another big leap, and all I can do is hold my breath and watch.”

My swan dive on that hot summer evening was dangerous. Back then I did so many stupid things to make Angel laugh. And I thought every time she laughed she fell deeper in love with me.

“I miss those days,” Angel says.

“Me too,” I reply.

There’s silence between us, and I hear the furnace exhaling heat into the upper level of the house. It’s been a long time since Angel and I have sat alone in my room, but why is she really here?

“You and Weezer having trouble?”

“We’re really not dating. I mean, I like Weezer, but not in that kind of way.”

“He seems kind of confused about your relationship—”

“Truth? I went out with Weezer so I could spend more time with you, Darius,” she says, setting her hand on mine.

“What?”

Angel hesitates, biting her lower lip before she comes out with it. “Shelby isn’t right for you. I wasn’t sure how to tell you, so I hung out with Weezer. I thought double-dating would give me a chance to see what Shelby is really like.”

“Why isn’t Shelby right for me?” I ask. “We have tons of things in common.”

“On the surface she seems cool. Don’t you wonder how she latched onto you so quickly?”

“She’s a Goth.”

“Yeah, she’s a Goth in a hurry, for sure,” she says. “She dated a lot of Normals at Apollo before she transferred to our school. Now to please her parents, Shelby wants to find a ‘perfect Vampire’,” Angel says, making air quotes.

The word
perfect
rings in my ears like a flat bass note. Shelby whispered that word to her parents. My meet and greet suddenly takes on new meaning. “Thanks for the heads-up,” I say. “But it’s too early to worry—”

“Don’t get bit,” Angel pleads.

“I won’t.”

“Don’t bite her, either. Please…”

“I won’t,” I say again. I give her one more hug before pulling my arm away. I feel flush from the Soda, or maybe because we’re so close. Is the furnace running hot, or is it me?

Angel looks up at me through her tears. “What does Soda taste like?”

I reach over for the almost-empty bottle on the milk crate next to my bed and show it to her. “It’s like grapefruit, tonic water and blood.”

“Does it make you stronger?”

“Yeah, and it keeps you awake, alert, and confident.”

She takes the bottle from my hands and holds it up for inspection. “Makes you feel confident?”

“Yeah, sort of; it’s hard to explain. Like a shot of adrenaline.”

“Shelby’s transforming too,” Angel says. “Is she on Soda?”

“No, she’s transforming naturally.”

“What does she think about you juicing?”

“I haven’t told her. I haven’t even told Weezer yet.”

“Why are you keeping this a secret?”

I lie back on my bed, staring up at the rafters. “I dunno. I guess I knew I’d eventually tell you guys. I wasn’t sure how Shelby would react. We just started going out, and I didn’t want to ruin a good thing.”

“But Weezer is like your wing man. Why not tell him?” she asks.

“He’s been questioning his own transformation. I didn’t want to confuse him more by telling him I was speeding up the process with Soda. Once I had made progress, I was going to tell all of you.”

“Everyone sees your progress, Darius. You’re bigger. People talk,” she says. “You should at least tell Shelby and Weezer.”

“I will, but I need to meet with Uncle Jack first,” I explain. “Then I’ll tell Shelby and Weezer.”

Sitting again, I have a head rush and a buzz from the Soda. I look at Angel, still holding the bottle in her hands. It’s tempting to reach into my mini-fridge and hand her one to find out, but Jack warned me not to give any away.

“It tastes like grapefruit juice and tonic water?” she asks.

“Pretty much, yeah.”

She holds the bottle up higher for closer inspection, and to my shock and horror she swallows the last of the Soda and hands me the empty bottle. Her eyes are closed tightly and her throat flexes as she swallows, slightly gagging. She opens her eyes, looks at me, and smiles as she licks her lips.

“Bittersweet. It’s got a bite,” she says.

“I can’t believe you just did that!”

Watching her reminds me of my first sip, too, how intoxicating that first taste was. Her face is flushed, and her eyes watery.

“I feel warm,” she says, smiling. “Light, too.”

“The first sips come with a buzz,” I explain. “You’ll be fine in a few minutes.”

“Feels good.”

“You’re crazy, girl! Why did you drink it?”

“I needed the courage to do this,” Angel says. She leans into me and we kiss, and I taste a familiar vanilla and honey from her lip gloss. I have the same downpour of emotions that I felt when we were dating; excited, thrilled, euphoric and also the sadness when she started her freshman year of high school and I was left behind in middle school. I open my eyes and she pulls away.

She looks embarrassed and guilty. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist,” Angel says, licking her lips.

Numb, I give her reassurance anyway. “Don’t worry about it. Soda does funny things to people—”

“Sorry, I have to go,” she says, stepping off my bed.

“Angel, wait!”

She pauses at the foot of the stairs, her face flush from Soda. “I wasn’t going to say anything. But screw it! Ask Shelby about her old boyfriend Cameron.”

She runs up the staircase and I hear the front door open and slam shut. I’m totally confused.

What the heck just happened?

I grab my laptop off the floor and adjust myself with a pillow on the bed. Time to do a little Facebook research. Searching Shelby’s photos, I hover over their faces, reading the tags. These guys are all Jocks and Players with short “license plate” nicknames like DJ, Tyler and Max. Finally I come across a kid named Cameron and I have to admit, he’s a stud. No, actually Cameron is Abercrombie & Fitch beautiful. In one photo he’s standing on a dock, shirtless and ripped, with sun-kissed muscles. Shelby has a varied taste in guys. Cameron and I are complete opposites: Night vs. Day, Marilyn Manson vs. Marilyn Monroe!!

Obviously Shelby had a life before she met me. Of course she dated other guys, and some of them are Normals. My mom married a Normal. I supposed I could ask Shelby about Cameron; or would that make me look desperate and insecure? I click on her Facebook page again and look at her relationship status. It reads: “It’s complicated.”

Tell me about it!

Closing the laptop, I fall onto my pillow. What’s also so strange is Angel’s behavior tonight. She dated Weezer briefly only to hang out with me.

And what’s with that kiss?

The ride with Shelby from St. Cloud to Jack’s loft in Minneapolis is a slow crawl through freeway traffic. I keep thinking about my kiss with Angel, and who the heck this Cameron guy is. And I know I should tell Shelby about the Soda. I want to clear it with Jack first. When we finally arrive at his brick building along the Mississippi River, Shelby pulls to the curb and sets the MINI in park. She checks her makeup in the rear view mirror as I try to think of a reason for her to wait here.

“Mind if I go alone this time?” I ask.

“Uh, sure, I suppose,” she says with disappointment.

“This is my last training session. He’ll probably have a stupid speech for me,” I say.

“I understand—”

“There’s a Starbucks around the corner. I’ll call after we’re done.”

We both get out of the car and walk hand in hand down the sidewalk to the street corner. I point to the Starbucks and give Shelby a hug and watch her cross the street. She looks back before entering the coffee shop and waves. I wave back, feeling guilty about Angel’s kiss, walking back to the entrance of Jack’s building.

It’s at least nine so I know I’m not arriving too early. I knock and open the doors and see Jack in the kitchen, counting bottles of Soda on the center island.

He’s wearing loose-fitting blue sweats and a tight white T-shirt. He’s ready for my workout. He nods as I enter, and I toss my hoodie on one of his leather chairs.

“Where you been? You’re late.”

“Stuck in traffic. I thought you said never arrive early.”

“If you’re running late, you should call or text. Where’s Shelby?”

“Across the street ordering a latte. I wanted to talk with you alone,” I say.

“Want a drink?” He holds out a Soda.

The bottle is perfectly chilled and I take it into my hand. “I’ve already had three doses today.”

“Take a fourth. Won’t kill you.”

Cracking it open, I set the bottle cap on the center island.

Jack wipes the black granite with a dishrag. “This bully, what’s his name—”

“Bao.”

“Yes, Bao the bully. You said he’s on Soda, too?” Jack asks.

“Yep, that’s what they tell me.”

“Who tells you?”

“Everyone at school,” I say. “And I saw him at the football game. He creamed the quarterback so badly they had to haul the kid off the field before Bao devoured him.”

“Blood rage,” Jack confirms.

“Huh?”

“Vampires can handle Soda. They get a buzz and then they mellow. Normals? They feel anger and rage.”

“What are my chances in this fight?”

“Pretty good.”

“Pretty good? Can Bao on Soda perform the same kind of maneuvers as me?”

Jack twists a cap off another bottle and takes a sip, savoring it like it’s an expensive bottle of wine. “Delicious.”

“What about Bao? Can he leap like me?”

“No. Normals get stronger and their endurance improves, but they can’t fly like Vampires,” Jack says. “Their feet are like cement.”

“I have an advantage, even though he’s juicing?” I clarify.

“Yes, of course. Jump and leap and you’ll wear him out. Then punch and kick to take him down.”

Feeling better, I take another sip. Jack joins me.

“Whatever you do, don’t
kill
him.”

“Seriously? You think I’d do that?”

“In our training, we’ve been sparring so you could see what you’re capable of,” Jack says. “Sparring isn’t the same as street fighting. There’s more at stake in a street fight. There’s more emotion, too.”

As much as I despise Bao, I could never kill him. I can’t imagine killing
anybody
.

“Jack, I won’t kill Bao.”

“I’m just warning you, because fights can get out of control.”

“What should I do about Bao?” I say. “Should I confront him about his juicing?”

“That’s hypocritical, don’t you think? We probably get our Soda from the same dealer as Bao.”

“Where’d you buy it?”

“On the street, man,” Jack says. “Where I got the blood for your mom.”

This confirms that all of this is illegal. I knew that Jack wasn’t exactly driving to Costco to buy Blood Orange Soda and a bag of blood. Now I’m facing the reality that we’re customers of some of those thugs who’ve knocked off blood banks. Officer Denny would be disappointed in me, for sure.

“If you want to get in Bao’s face and tell him that you know he’s on the juice, go ahead,” Jack says. “You might rattle him, make him nervous.”

“Cool, I’ll try it,” I say.

“Where are you with Jonathan? Have you reached him?”

“We talked the other night. He wants to see Mom.”

Jack looks surprised and pleased. He sips his Soda before setting it back on the center island. “What did you say to him?”

“That Mom is sick and that I’m planning a surprise party for her.”

“He’ll attend?”

“Yeah. We could throw her a party, Jack. That might cheer her up.”

“What did Jonathan say when you asked him to transform into a Vampire?” Jack asks.

“Uh, I haven’t mentioned that yet. I wanted to invite him up here first,” I say.

Jack nods. “Sure, that makes sense. Good for you. His transformation is a long shot, but it’s the only shot she has.”

We finish our Sodas and climb the stairs to Jack’s dojo, where we fight for nearly an hour. This time we set up my phone and record video of our fighting so I can watch our sparring later and study my moves. Tonight he’s more aggressive, and I am too. Our jabs become full punches to the body, and we both fly across the room in leaps and tumbles that would have most Normals in awe. In one of Jack’s final blows his knuckles scrape against my chain necklace and I feel my neck bleeding.

He freezes. “You hurt?”

Touching my neck I feel warm, sticky blood on my index finger and thumb.

“I’m cool. My skin heals quickly,” I say. “Can Normals on Soda heal like this?”

“No,” Jack says, studying my cut. “That’s something unique to Vampires. And you’ve got O blood, which clots much faster in Vampires than Normals. This makes you badass!”