Teeth_ Vampire Tales - Ellen Datlow [8]
Grandmother set a mug of warm blood next to me. “You’ll think of something. I know it.”
That was more faith than I had in myself.
I rested my head on her shoulder, just for a second, like a little kid would. Then I cleared my throat, said, “I have homework, gotta go,” and scooped my backpack over my shoulder on my way up the stairs.
Grandmother watched me go, looking lonelier than I’d ever seen her. My stomach twisted just to see it.
I dreamed that the school was empty and covered over with vines, the walkways broken with tree roots, the shelves of the library stuffed with birds’ nests. There was a little river sloshing through the main hallway, and as I walked, I made no sound.
The sunlight streamed through the broken windows and through the holes in the ceiling where the beams had given in at last.
They are all dead, I thought, and I knew it was true. I was the only one there; I was the only one left.
I didn’t think it was a nightmare until I woke up and heard myself panting.
Sorry, Jake said. I was trying to wake you, but—
My hand shot out across the bed, looking for him. He took in a breath, held it.
Then I remembered he was only a spirit, some remnant I had brought back with me because I was too angry to come back alone. I felt the lingering horror of the dream, seeping quietly through me like rising water.
“Why do you think it was you I brought back?” I asked, just to say something.
He let out the breath slowly. I wondered if I still breathed, too; how deep my habits went.
I was looking for a way out, he said finally, like the words were being forced out of him. I couldn’t—I couldn’t be there anymore.
Jesus. I asked quietly, “Why not?”
But there was no answer. He was gone.
The room was so quiet that I heard the first raindrops falling before it started to storm.
The next day in chem, Madison was sitting so close to Jason that their legs were touching, so close that when she turned to look at him they were practically kissing.
I wondered how long it would take for that to get around to the injured party. I scribbled in the margin of my notebook, “T-minus Amber?”
There was no answer from Jake. Not like I had expected one, anyway. Whatever.
I erased the note.
(Third period, Madison’s car got towed. High school is more efficient than the Mob.)
Jake was silent all day. I hadn’t realized how much I liked having him around. I mean, I managed—you take the notes and ask questions and draw stick-figure monarchs in your history notebook just like usual—but it was . . . strange. You get used to some people.
(You miss someone.)
17. You stop sleeping at night.
18. You get in more and more trouble for nodding off in class.
I had been drinking blood for months, but I still ended up in bed later that week, broiling and thrashing.
It was Grandmother’s day at the doctor, so she couldn’t help me for hours, and I could hardly move; I was going to burn, I was going to burn.
There was a cool breath on my neck. Suyin? Suyin.
It was Jake. Jake was back. I could hardly hear him through the grinding ache of my blood as it slowed.
Suyin, open your eyes.
I struggled to find the will, but at last I hauled my eyelids open, gasping with the effort.
There was a boy in my room. He had dark hair and slightly crooked glasses. He wasn’t quite real—I could see my desk through him, and he had eye sockets instead of true eyes—but I could see the silhouette of his hands, which he was holding up, palms out.
Count my fingers, he said.
I couldn’t even focus my eyes for more than a moment, but I counted, one through ten. After that I counted the threads in my comforter, and just as I was running out (and panic was coming), Grandmother knocked on my door.
Jake stepped behind my drapes.
“What’s wrong?” Grandmother asked, kneeling and looking me over. My skin was clammy; my hands were shaking.
“I’m so hungry,” I said. “I drank yesterday, but . . .” I couldn’t finish, my throat too dry; I shook my head.
Grandmother frowned at me. Then she said, “Let me see what I can do.” She handed