shoved her, and Caitlin, relieved, took off, hurrying down the corridor. She spotted an open door, heading outside, to a lower terrace, and she ran through it.
She found herself outside, on the lower terrace, in the cool October air, her heart still pounding. She was so happy to be out of there. Yet at the same time, she was distraught. There was nothing here. Was her entire journal made up? Was none of this real? Was she imagining everything?
But then how would that explain Aiden’s reaction?
Caitlin crossed the cobblestone terrace, passing another medieval garden, this one filled with small fruit trees. She kept walking until she came to a marble railing. She leaned against it and looked out; in the distance she could see the Hudson River, sparkling in the late afternoon sun.
She suddenly turned, expecting for some reason to see Caleb standing there, beside her. For some reason, she felt she’d been here before, stood here on this terrace with Caleb. It didn’t make any sense. Was she losing her mind?
Now, she was not so sure.
Chapter Two
Scarlet burst into her room, hysterically crying, and slammed the door behind her. She’d run all the way home, from the river, and had not stopped crying since. She didn’t understand what was happening to her. That moment kept flashing in her mind when she saw the pulse in Blake’s neck, when she felt that feeling, that urge, of wanting to bite him. Of wanting to feed.
What was happening to her? Was she some kind of freak? Why had she felt that way? And why then – of all moments? Just as they were having their first kiss?
Now that she was far away from the scene, it was harder for Scarlet to summon exactly how her body felt at the time – and with each passing moment, it was growing more distant. Her body felt normal now. Had it just been a fleeting moment? Was it just some weird, one-time thing that had overcome her, that would never come back again?
She desperately wanted to believe that. But another part of her, a deeper part, felt that wasn’t the case. The feeling had been so strong, it had been something she would never forget. If she had succumbed to it, and stayed there one more second, she felt certain Blake would be dead right now.
Scarlet couldn’t help but think back to the other day. Coming home sick. Running out of the house. Forgetting what had happened, where she had been. Waking up in the hospital. Her mom being so worried, so freaked out…
Now, it all came to the forefront of her mind. Her mom had wanted her to see more doctors, to get more tests. And then, to see a priest. Did her mom suspect something? Was that what she was hinting at? Did she think that she was becoming a vampire?
Scarlet’s heart was pounding as she sat there, in her room, curled up in her favorite chair. Ruth stuck her head in her lap, and Scarlet leaned down and stroked her. But there were tears in her eyes as she did. She felt shell-shocked, in a daze. She was terrified at the idea that she was sick, that she had some kind of disease – or maybe, something worse. Deep down she thought it was ridiculous, of course, where her mind was going. But she dared to wonder. Her wanting to bite his neck. The feeling she’d had in her two incisor teeth. Her craving to feed. Was it possible?
Was she a vampire?
Did vampires really exist?
She reached over, opened her laptop, and googled it. She had to know.
She pulled up the Wikipedia entry for “vampire” and began to read:
“The notion of vampirism has existed for millennia; cultures such as the Mesopotamians, Hebrews, Ancient Greeks, and Romans had tales of demons and spirits which are considered precursors to modern vampires. However, despite the occurrence of vampire-like creatures in these ancient civilizations, the folklore for the entity we know today as the vampire originates almost exclusively from early 18th-century southeastern Europe, when verbal traditions of many ethnic groups of the region were recorded and published. In most cases, vampires are revenants of evil beings, suicide victims, or witches, but they can also be created by a malevolent spirit possessing a corpse or by being bitten by a vampire.”
Scarlet quickly shut her laptop and put it away. It was all too much for her to take.
She shook her head, trying to physically put it out of her mind. Something was definitely wrong with her. But was it that? It terrified her.
Making all of this even worse were her feelings for Blake, and her thinking of what had just happened between them. She couldn’t believe she had run away from him like that, especially at that moment. They had been having such an amazing time, a dream date. And now this. Finally, just when their relationship was starting to take off. It was so unfair.
She couldn’t even imagine what he was thinking right now. He must be thinking she’s some kind of freak, some kind of absolute psycho, for her to just jump up like that, in the middle of a kiss, and take off, sprinting into the woods. He must think she was totally out of her mind. She was sure he’d never want to see her again. He’d probably go back to Vivian.
She desperately wanted to explain herself. But how could she possibly? What could she possibly say? That she had a sudden urge to bite his neck? To feed on him? To drink his blood? That she had to run away to protect him?
Sure, that would really set his mind at ease, she thought.
She wanted to make things right. She wanted to see him again. But she had no idea how to explain. Not only that, but she was also afraid to be near him; she didn’t trust herself now. What if the urge overcame her again? And what if, next time, she actually hurt him?
She burst into tears, thinking about it. Was she doomed to never be around boys again?
No. She had to try. She had to at least try to make things right. She had to try to explain herself, in some way. If for no other reason so that he didn’t hate her. Even if he never wanted to see her again, she couldn’t just leave things like this. And deep down, a part of her still dared to hope that maybe this was just a one-time thing, a freak episode, and that maybe they could get over this and still be together. After all, if they could get over this, they could get over anything.
Scarlet was beginning to feel a little better. She wiped away her tears, grabbed a tissue, blew her nose, and took out her cell. She pulled up his number and began to text him.
Then she stopped. What should she say?
I’m so sorry for what happened today.
She deleted that. It was too generic.
I don’t know what came over me today.
She deleted that, too. It didn’t sound quite right. She needed the perfect balance, the perfect mixture of apologizing and yet being hopeful that things had not changed forever. She also needed to emphasize what a great time she had up until that point.
She closed her eyes and sighed, thinking hard. Come on, come on, she willed herself.
She began to type.
I had such an amazing time with you today. I’m so sorry it ended the way it did. There was a reason I had to leave like that, but I can’t explain it to you. I know it’s hard to understand, but I hope you can. I just want you to know that I had an awesome time, and I’m sorry. And I hope we can see each other again.
Scarlet stared at her draft for a long while, then finally reached out, and hit send.
