and still but interconnected, he left. Jordan protested, saying it was just getting good
(what it was, Jared didn't know), but he knew if he stayed they'd end up cutting class

tomorrow. And the last time he'd played hooky, the school had called his house and left

a message, dry and mechanical: "For the parents or guardians of Jared Mikels, Jared
was absent from school today. You have three days to submit—"

Aaannd the shit had hit the fan.
It was the end of April, with only a few more weeks of school left. He was

determined to stay out of trouble before summer break. He hoped. First there was the
little matter of getting into the house without his parents knowing he was stoned.

Jordan lived down the block from him, so it only took a couple of minutes for Jared

to walk home. The moon was nearly full, white light bouncing off the sidewalk. A mild

wind rustled through leaves just beginning to sprout on the trees.

It was a nice looking neighborhood, mostly upper scale Cape Cods, an occasional

older bungalow thrown in. His house was a brick two-story, the pine in the front yard
throwing a long shadow over the porch. He climbed the steps and opened the front door

quietly, trying to act like he wasn't trying to be quiet. He kept his head up, eyes wide,
faking sobriety as best as he could in case his parents saw him.

It was after eleven and the house was dark, only the light from the TV screen in the

living room flickering over the furniture. His dad sat on the couch, slumped comfortably

against the overstuffed end cushion. The silver in his hair shone blue in the light, and his
glasses sat crookedly over his nose.

Jared watched him a minute. His dad didn't move. He was asleep.
"Yes," he whispered, pumping his fist, and started up the stairs outside the living

room. He was almost home free, but the last stair didn't cooperate—it tripped him. He
thumped to his knees in the hall, surprised. "Oops," he said, snickering. But quietly. If

his mom heard down the hall from her bedroom, she didn't say anything. Most likely she
was asleep, too.

In the bathroom he brushed his teeth, looking at himself in the mirror. His lids

were definitely at half-mast over his pale blue eyes, sleepy and well, stoned-looking. He

opened them wide as he could, straining to see the whites all around, but it wasn't
happening, and he looked stupid enough doing it that he grinned through the toothpaste

at his image.

It'd been drizzling as he walked home, and his dark hair was wet. It was long

enough that his dad bitched every time they were in the same room long enough to

actually talk.

He leaned over, spat in the sink and rinsed. Hell with that. It wasn't really all that

long. His dad was a tightass. He'd really freak if he knew about the tattoo Jared had

gotten. He pulled his sleeve up to look at it.

Peace, baby. He grinned in the mirror again.

Dad didn't like the long hair or the low-slung jeans (in fact Jared got yelled at just

this week for showing his ass off, literally, when he'd looked under the couch for

Malvoline the cat's favorite stuffed mouse toy). Or the earring, the music, his friends in
general, and last but not least, the black, white and red T-shirt he wore with a hooker

and a zombie making out.

He stared in the glass, absently rubbing the tat with long fingers, the grin

disappearing off his face. He was pretty sure Dad didn't like much of anything about
him.

He sighed and shuffled off to his bedroom. The room was made of shadows, posters

hanging on the walls like featureless black rectangles. He expertly avoided the usual

heaps of clothes wadded up on the floor and flopped into bed still clothed. He fell asleep
almost instantly. He never heard the window slide open.

Moments later he woke to a vampire in his bed, though all he knew at first was the

press of a body against his and a hand lying flat against his heart.

Jared blinked up into the dark and tried to sit up, but the hand was unyielding. He

turned his head to see who held him. It was a boy with dark hair and eyes like gray

smoke, pupils red with hunger and mouth pale with need.

"I'm sorry," the vampire whispered. "I'm so hungry." He gripped Jared's head

between both hands and thrust his face into Jared's neck, fangs sliding like twin blades
of ice into his throat. Jared cried out. The vampire clamped a hand over his mouth. His

head shook back and forth, burrowing into flesh, a beast feeding off a carcass. Jared's
body writhed against the bed, and only the hand against his chest kept him from falling

to the floor.

The world around him narrowed and floated away in foggy wisps. The vampire

whispered into his neck, voice vibrating low into Jared's skin. I didn't mean to come
after you. I didn't want to hurt you. Tears like diamonds, cold and hard, fell from the

vampire's eyes, rolling down Jared's face and neck to melt into the bed clothes.

The hand holding him down stopped pushing against his chest and stroked instead,

fingers cold. Jared's nipples rose hard against the touch. The vampire whispered that
Jared tasted like the best cherry wine, licking his neck over and over with long swipes of

his cool tongue. It took away some of the hurt.

Jared felt sick and aroused, amazed that he was able to throw wood with the world

like pale shadows in his vision. The vampire licked and kissed, achingly slow and
soothing, murmuring in his ear how beautiful he was, how Jared's blood was a part of

him, voice and touch buzzing under his skin, until Jared thrust his hips upward
helplessly and came in his pants.

Afterward he was very tired. He slept, and he didn't awaken when his mother came

to get him up for school the next morning. He didn't know about his mother's screams,

and he didn't realize when his father gave him CPR. He very nearly died, though he only
found out after he opened his eyes the next day to see both his parents staring at him

anxiously. He was in a hospital.

His father looked like he'd aged twenty years, red snaps threading his eyes, hand

quivering on Jared's arm, and Jared thought maybe he'd been wrong, that his dad loved
him after all. He tried to smile, but he was still so tired.

His dad covered his eyes, shoulders shaking. He squeezed Jared's arm. His mother

held Jared's hand in both of hers and cried. Embarrassed but touched, Jared opened his

mouth to tell them he was okay. He fell asleep again before he'd gotten a word out.

Two months later when Jared was back home, freshly graduated from high school

and spending his summer getting in more trouble than ever, back to the same sure

conviction in his gut that his dad couldn't stand the sight of him, the vampire came back.

Chapter 2

N FRIDAY NIGHTS the kids from the local college fanned out along the main drag

through campus, hitting the restaurants and bars. Some of the high school students with

cars ventured onto the strip, too, but most of them met up at their own hangouts. The
ridge was one of those places.

It was early July, and the last hours of Jared's eighteenth birthday were ticking

away. His car was parked in a small paved area at the top of the ridge everyone referred

to as the lookout. The town lights twinkled over the hills below, yellow and white and
blue. Behind the car at the opposite edge of the paved circle, trees slipped down into a

small valley and lost themselves in shadow, then rose again with the hilly ground. A
local television station sat atop the highest peak.

Jared sat in the backseat of his beat-up old Chevy. The upholstery had been cold

against the back of his naked legs when he'd first pulled his pants down, but it had

warmed fast. Pretty little Lucy from his senior math class sat on Jared's lap, legs spread
to either sides of his thighs, undulating her hips.

He'd taken off her tiny blue scrap of underwear, her hips curving warm and smooth

beneath his hands. Her high little breasts bounced, breathy noises coming from her

parted lips as she rubbed her clit against his rigid cock. He shuddered, fingers digging
into her hips.

He heard a decisive click and then the creak of the door opening, but it didn't

uttering a little screech. She shrank toward the opposite door, hands covering her
breasts.

Cold fingers snaked around Jared's jaw and held him perfectly still. The vampire

looked at Lucy, giving her a small, sympathetic smile. Lucy's eyes widened. She uttered

the smallest peep, like a chick just hatched, and slumped from Jared's thighs over the
hump in the middle of the floorboard. Jared's cock slapped against his flat stomach,

shining with Lucy's juices.

"Please no, you didn't hurt her," Jared begged, speaking fast as if that would make

it true. He reached for Lucy, but the vampire held out his arm, blocking him. Jared
couldn't budge it. It was like trying to move a steel girder.

The air in the car had gotten cold, so cold, the windows frosted in blue swirls from

where he and Lucy had fogged them up. The vampire slid closer, his feet tucked beneath

Lucy's neck and cheek in the footwell. He gripped Jared's thigh and held him in place.

Jared tried to pull away, but he couldn't. He covered his dick protectively with his

hand.

"I spoke to her with my eyes. I told her to sleep, that's all. She felt dizzy. She's had

lots of alcohol so it was really easy. I didn't hurt her." The vampire nudged Jared's hand
away, wrapping his fingers around his cock. "The first time you saw me, I'd just been

turned. I didn't mean to hurt you—I couldn't help myself. I was so hungry. And I didn't
know how to make you forget. I do now, but I don't want to." He paused. "Did you tell

anyone?"

Jared shook his head quickly. "Nobody would have believed me."

"It took everything I had to stop myself from killing you."
"Why didn't you?" Jared knew he should be terrified. He didn't know why he

wasn't.

"You were …" The vampire laughed a little. "Stupid as it sounds, you were my first.

Normally that would guarantee your death. We aren't able to restrain ourselves when
we're newborn, not without a maker nearby to guide us. But I did. I knew from the

moment I saw you." He smiled the most beautiful, cold smile. His eyes were frozen fog,
pale and inhuman.

"Knew what?" Jared breathed. The air was laced with ice crystals. They caught in

his throat.

"You're special. Important to me."
Jared shook his head. "I don't understand."

The vampire didn't answer. He kissed the side of Jared's neck.
Jared pulled away, nodding toward Lucy. "Why did you do that to her?"

"I won't do it to you, don't worry. I need to be what you want." The vampire's

fingers tightened around Jared's cock and gave it a long stroke, bottom to top. The cold

sank like frozen lead inside him, tingling and burning. His own heat rushed up in a wave
behind the cool grip. Jared threw his head back against the seat and moaned, thrusting

his hips. He couldn't help himself.

"Tell me what you want, and I'll give it to you." The vampire jacked him again.

Jared's foot banged against the floorboard. "Ah, you like this." He smiled. "You want to
come, don't you? It's going to feel so good." He bent and touched his tongue to the

crown of Jared's cock. It burned, frostbite gone deep.

"What do you want from me?" Jared gasped.

"I don't know yet," the vampire said. "I know I want this." He licked over the head,

making a greedy sound in his throat, and stroked him again rough and fast.

"Ungh, God," Jared moaned, pushing into the grip. His ass rose off the seat, thigh

muscles working. The vampire lifted himself and bit Jared's neck. He took a long,

luxurious pull of blood.

A numbing cold sank into Jared's skin all around where the vampire's lips pressed,

but the point of contact itself was nothing but burning, shivering need. Jared arched his
neck, exposing the long curve as if offering himself. The vampire licked his throat slowly

until the blood stopped welling, then made as if to pull away. Jared pressed closer again.

For long moments the vampire's lips trembled over his skin, breath freezing in a

thin coat of ice against Jared's throat. He pushed Jared away, closing his eyes and
swallowing. "Be careful. I won't kill you, but don't push me."

Jared nodded, his eyes huge and black in the dim interior of the car.
The vampire pulled Jared's shirt up and licked his nipple until it stiffened to a cold,

sensitized peak. He held himself over Jared's chest and blew from his open mouth.
Jared felt the cold sink into his heart and beat out through his body, thick and sluggish.

The vampire licked across Jared's belly to the trail of soft hair beneath his navel,

then lower. His lips brushed back and forth over the head of his cock, alternating with

swipes of his tongue, over and over, until Jared jolted with each touch.

One of his fangs nicked Jared. He flattened his tongue, rubbing it soothingly back

and forth over the small wound. Jared moaned, low and keening. Precome leaked from
his cock, glistening in the low light, and the vampire chased it over the slippery ridge of

the crown, lapping it up. Stiffening his tongue, he pushed the tip inside the slit like a
sliver of ice, then withdrew and licked over the head, teasing and flicking. He pushed

inside again, forcing it a little deeper, over and over, each time opening Jared up a little
more. It burned like the push of a cold knife into flesh.

Jared's legs shook. His cock was so hard it hurt. He wanted to come, but he didn't

know if it would bring relief or more pain.

The vampire wound his long tongue around the width of Jared's cock, sliding up

and down, the outer surface of his fangs riding against Jared's skin like icy steel. Jared

arched his body and thrust into the slick curl of tongue, his head pressing back against

the car seat. His cock pulsed in slow, burning beats. Heat pooled low in his belly. His

balls clenched, orgasm burning up through the coldness of his flesh and spilling into the
vampire's mouth.

He slumped back into the seat, head buzzing, staring at the frozen moon outside

the windows. Lucy still lay slumped over in the floorboard. He reached for her just as the

vampire opened the door of the car, and Jared grabbed his arm instead. "Wait. What
makes you think I'm important? I'm not. I'm just … me."

The vampire smiled faintly, almost kindly. "Humans don't reach out for vampires

unless they're in thrall." He opened the car door and warm air flooded inside. Almost

immediately the ice on the windows began to melt, running in rivulets.

"You said you knew not to kill me," Jared persisted.

"I knew we weren't finished. I wanted you."
"For what?"

The streetlamp blurred into blue and white smears through the drops of water on

the glass. The vampire looked at him. "I don't know yet. I'll make you feel good, and

you'll give me blood. But there's more than that."

"Tell me your name before you go," Jared said. It felt important, though he didn't

know why.

"Why?"

"I want to know."
The vampire shrugged. He looked off somewhere in the distance. "We take our

names from the Bible when we turn, to remind God we're still his children. Even if
cursed. My name is Leviticus."

Jared shook his head. "I don't mean that. What was your name before?"
The vampire fixed Jared with pale, expressionless eyes. "It doesn't matter. He's

dead and he can't come back. Long live the vampire." He closed the door and looked
back once, blurred and ghostly through the glass. Then he was gone.

Jared opened the window to let in warm air, then reached out and pulled Lucy up

off the floorboards. She was like a dead thing in his arms. He propped her in the corner

and cradled her face in his hands.

"Wake up, Luce," he whispered. Her face was still and pale, her red hair dark as

blood in the low light. He kissed her cheek and rubbed the back of her neck gently. Her

eyelids fluttered open.

"Lucy, you okay?"
"I want to go home," she whispered, staring up at the roof. Her eyes sparkled like

emeralds under the street light.

Chapter 3

ARED DIDN'T LOVE high school, but he didn't hate it. He made decent grades

without thinking much about it, just going with the flow. His parents and teachers at

school encouraged him, tried to help him figure out what he wanted to do after
graduation. Somehow he always thought he had more time.

He started getting into trouble in his junior year. The lines on his dad's face seemed

to settle a little more deeply, and his mom grew quieter, sadness overlaying the

reproachful looks she gave him. Jared didn't realize exactly when it changed, but
somehow his future began to feel like something to dread rather than full of possibilities.

Then one day he looked up and couldn't see anything at all past the disappointment on
their faces.

It was his own fault, he knew. Because he couldn't stop fucking, drinking, doping

his life away.

He thought maybe in his own time he'd have turned it around, realized it was time

to stop coasting and start doing something about his future, but then Levi showed up.

After that it was kind of pointless to plan for the future. It felt as insubstantial as smoke
on a breeze.

Levi was going to kill him, eventually. Or something even worse.
He couldn't figure the vampire's fascination with him, but then, Levi didn't seem to

know himself. Not that it really mattered—if a thing like that came after you, it sealed
your fate. Even if Jared walked around with a sharpened stake twenty-four seven to

defend himself (and damn if that didn't sound stupider than shit), he figured it wouldn't

help much. He'd seen how strong Levi was.

Did stakes really work against vampires? Jared considered it, staring blankly at the

bedspread.

He bet it was all a bunch of horseshit.
"You're so boring when you're stoned," Jordan complained.

Jared blinked and looked up.
Jordan sat at the head of the bed. He leaned over to the window, open a few inches

at the bottom, and blew out a long breath. The smoke curled out of his mouth, ghostly
and graceful, and slipped out through the opening, vanishing on the wind. Jared stared

after it, then looked back at Jordan, at the moonlight curving over the planes of his face.

Jordan frowned. His eyes glinted in the darkness. "Stop staring at me."

"First I'm boring, now I'm staring. Anything else you want to bitch about? Anyway I

can't. You're like magic. Or something."

Jordan threw back his head and laughed. His curly hair shook. "You really are

stoned."

"It's the smoke, it's like … like …"
Jordan took another toke. The joint glowed, a coal in the dark.

"Like it's part of you, and you're releasing it. Magical." Jared nodded happily.
"You're sadly fucked up. And really homo, too."

Jared scowled. "Bisexual, fuck you very much, and unless I yank on your dong it's

none of your business anyway."

Jordan sniggered.
"If I'm so boring when I'm stoned, why are you always handing out the dope? It's

not like giving away candy or something."

"I am a giver. You're a bum." Jordan grinned.

"So I'm bumming when you knock on my door, barge into my room and light up.

Good to know." Jared shook his head, watching Jordan's drugged, smiling face, eyes

dark and eyelids drooping sleepily. Sometimes he wanted to reach over and kiss Jordan
when he looked like that. Other times he wanted to shake him.

"Why are we sitting in the dark?" Jordan reached for the lamp.
Jared swatted his hand away. "Because I want to. I like the dark." It was easier to

hide in the dark, or at least it felt like it. Which was stupid, because the vampire came at

night.

Jordan shrugged, leaning against the headboard.
Jordan wasn't being stalked by a vampire. He had a future. He was so fucking

smart. He could do anything he wanted. Though apparently all he wanted was to spend
his days working at a coffee shop and his nights smoking weed. Jared joined him, most

nights, and when he didn't, Jordan more often than not showed up at his place.

Jared was going to put a stop to it, though. Someone had to get Jordan to see.

"You're wasting your life," Jared said abruptly.
Jordan's face went slack with astonishment. "I'll straighten up. I swear, Mom. I just

graduated. I'm taking a little break, okay?" He peered at Jared intently. "You are my
mom, right?"

Jared rolled his eyes and moved up beside Jordan. He lay back on the pillow,

crossing his arms behind his head. "Yeah. I'm your mom. Sure."

"So this is a body swap, right? Has to be." Jordan scooted down from the

headboard to lie down beside him, laughing. "Oh fuck."

Jared peered down at him. "What?"
"Just thinking about poor little Jared over at the house right now. Most likely

boning Dad. He's gonna come back to his own body scarred for life." He rolled over,
braced himself on an elbow, and looked down at Jared. "You don't know how lucky you

are, Mom—you could have switched bodies while Jared was doing Lucy. You ever done
another girl before? Have you? Mom?"

Jared stared at Jordan wide-eyed. "Jesus. What a pervert. Even your own mother

isn't safe." He yanked the pillow out from behind him and whapped Jordan in the face

with it, then climbed on top of him, speaking in a falsetto. "That's fucking inappropriate,
son."

Jordan laughed, hands raised defensively. "You sound like a chipmunk, Mom."
Jared pushed the pillow over Jordan's face and leaned over, listening to the muffled

shouting from beneath it. "Say you're sorry, son." Jared took one hand off the pillow and
tickled Jordan's sides, listening for the muted laughter. Yep. Jordan was awfully ticklish.

Jordan bucked, and Jared rolled off him.

From the corner of his eye, Jared caught a glimpse of something moving outside the

window. The second floor window.

Someone. Pale, handsome face, wide mouth. Inhuman eyes.

The smoky fog that muddled Jared's head left him completely. His hands started to

shake. He threw the pillow on the floor, stood by the side of the bed and hauled Jordan

up by his shoulders.

Jordan's eyes flew open, surprised. His hair was even more tousled than usual from

the pillow. "What are you—"

"You gotta go, Jordy," Jared whispered. He squeezed the back of Jordan's neck.

"Now."

"What's wrong?" Jordan whispered back, his eyes big.

"Please, Jordy." Jared pulled him toward the door. "Trust me, okay?"
"Course I trust you." Jordan let himself be pulled. He looked around the room,

trying to see what was wrong, then did a double-take at the window. It would have been
funny except for the fact that a vampire hung around outside it.

Jared followed Jordan's gaze and was relieved he didn't see anything, but he didn't

doubt that Levi was still out there.

"You have to go." Jared shoved Jordan toward the door.
"What was that?"

"What? There's nothing there." Jared opened the door.
"I thought I saw a … a … shit."

"You gotta go. It's my stomach, man. All of a sudden I feel sick. Think I'm gonna

hurl."

"What—"
Jared shoved Jordan out and slammed the door shut. Jordan muttered an obscene,

impossible suggestion about Jared's dick and where he could put it, then finally moved
off down the stairs.

Jared heard the window behind him slide open. A cool hand circled his waist from

behind before he could so much as turn around.

Chapter 4

ARED STIFFENED AT the touch. He felt Levi's breath against his ear as he spoke.

"One day you'll understand I don't want to hurt you."
"Sure. Right," Jared muttered, pushing away from the ring of his arms. "Why can't

you just leave me alone?"

"I wanted to see you again."

Jared turned and faced Levi. He wore dark jeans, a hole at mid-thigh, and a T-shirt

with GOD SAVE THE QUEEN stamped across it in blocky green. He smelled like the

outdoors. His hair was nearly as long as Jared's, rumpled from the breeze outside. His
eyes were smoky and too light. Beautiful.

Mesmerizing.
Jared raised a hand. "Maybe you could turn those off or something."

Levi laughed. "I can't, sorry. Comes with the change." He looked around the room

as if he'd never seen it before, taking in the balled-up clothes on the hardwood floor, the

heavy wooden dresser with more clothes piled up on top, the rumpled bed.

"You've seen the place before. When you put me in the hospital that first time."

Levi sighed. "I wasn't in control of myself. I told you." He gave Jared a wry look. "As

for your room, noticing what it looked like wasn't high on my priorities. I'd just been

turned, remember. I was scared."

Jared sat down on the side of the bed again, trying to make his face a blank. He

cleared his throat. "So what do you want? Drink, sex, or both?"

Levi laughed. "You know what you sound like, right?"

Jared sighed impatiently. "It's kind of what I am to you, isn't it?"
Levi shook his head, looking surprised. "What? No, I—no. Not ever." He frowned. "I

figured you knew better."

Jared's shoulders slumped. "Sure. Whatever." The window was still wide open, and

a gust of night air lifted the curtains. He watched them rise and fall. "You said you were
scared that first night. So vampires are on their own after they're turned?"

"No. My maker was a rogue. I wasn't supposed to have been born. Nobody goes

around making new vamps without permission." Levi shrugged, looking down at Jared

on the bed. "The others killed him. It happens. I'm not exactly outcast—I was named,

like I told you—but nobody's going to babysit me. I have to prove myself, or my fate's the
same as the one who made me."

Jared leaned over and pulled the window nearly shut, leaving it open by a couple of

inches at the bottom. He looked at Levi. "What was it like? Being turned?"

A car went by outside. Levi's eyes followed the twin beams of light piercing the

darkness of the room. Jared thought he saw him wince at the light. Maybe it was his

imagination.

"It was—everything looked different, louder, clearer … just—more. I don't know. It

was confusing, like I wasn't me anymore. All my inputs were screwed up. Everything
ached, and I couldn't stop shivering. I wanted to feed, very badly, but at the time I didn't

know what that meant or how to do it. I just knew there was something I had to have,
clawing at me from inside. I wandered around, not paying any attention to where I was

going. Then I saw you walking. I felt your warmth—it radiates all around the living. Like
light to a moth, irresistible. So I followed you." He paused. "I couldn't believe you didn't

see or hear me stumbling around behind you, so loud and clumsy, sick with need. But
you didn't.

"I saw you go into your house. I walked right up on the porch and looked inside.

You were heading upstairs, so I climbed a tree to your roof. It was easy to find your

room." He looked at Jared, as if asking him to understand. "I just wanted to be warm
again. Like you." He paused, then looked away. "I felt better after I drank your blood."

Jared stared up at him. "Well, thank God for that." He fumbled for the ashtray on

the nightstand. "Jordy better have left some weed here." He picked up a piece of a joint

left in the ashtray and lit it, long deep breath in, then blew smoke out the window.
"You're not very cold now, are you? I guess you grabbed somebody before you came over

here tonight. Did you … " Jared swallowed, suddenly wishing for a glass of water. "Are
they dead?"

Levi shook his head. "I fed right after I woke up. The cold is always bad until I do—

bad as it was in the beginning. Maybe worse. I'd never keep control if I always felt like

that. But I didn't kill. I haven't." His lips tightened. "It's interesting, don't you think?
There's you—the living, so warm. And then there's my kind, cold from beyond the grave,

colder than anything living would ever be. Every time I wake I can't help but know I'm

not human anymore. I'm something that aches and shivers for what I used to be." Levi

sat down beside Jared on the side of the bed. "All we want, more than anything, is your
warmth. And we take it."

Jared leaned closer. His eyes narrowed. "It's not yours to take."
Levi shrugged. "It's what we do. We're predators."

"You were human."
"Not anymore. Weren't you listening?"

"Something terrible happened to you, changed you, but you still grew up human,

same as I did. You know you don't have the right to take whatever you want."

Levi locked eyes with Jared. "You're sure of that, are you?" He gestured toward the

joint. "Hand it over."

Jared looked confused. "Huh?"
Levi rolled his eyes and jabbed his hand at Jared again. "Give me a hit."

Jared passed the joint. "A vampire that smokes weed. I don't even."
"I can smoke, or drink, eat. Whatever." Levi inhaled deeply. A seed popped. "I just

don't need it." He blew smoke into the room.

"Hey, out the window!" Jared said loudly, forgetting himself.

Levi's mouth tightened and he tilted his head a little, regarding Jared with his

strange, light eyes.

A shiver ran over Jared's skin. He looked down at the bedspread, suddenly afraid,

picking at a loose thread. "It's just, Mom already caught me once last week." He passed

Levi the ashtray.

Levi mashed the tiny bit of the roach that was left into the ashtray, then handed it

back along with the clip. "Don't buy into a facade, Jared. That's stupid. Humans have
taken over the planet and done what they want with it, sure. That makes them powerful,

but it doesn't change what they are—predators at the top of the food chain. Animals.
And animals don't ask, they take. I'm no worse than you. I'm just better at it."

"Yeah? That sounds like shit I tell myself when I know I'm wrong. It's a

justification."

Levi huffed an exasperated breath. "How is that a justification? A lion doesn't tap

politely on the shoulder of a gazelle and asks if it minds getting eaten, for God's sake."

Jared opened his mouth to answer and snickered instead. He lay back onto the bed

and laughed, holding his stomach. "You're not a fucking lion."

"You are messed up, aren't you?" Levi said, grinning.
"You sound like Jordy."

Levi's smile faded. "So you want me to what, starve?"
Jared looked up into Levi's eyes. "I'm just saying. It's not okay for you to hurt

people."

Levi shrugged. "Easy for you. You don't have to drink blood to survive. You're still

human."

Jared nodded. "Yeah, there's that. For now, anyway."

"Anyway, I told you. I haven't killed anyone."
Jared looked up at the ceiling. "So I heard this joke. A vampire comes into the

bedroom of this guy he's about to eat."

"You did, did you. I'm not going to eat you. Or turn you." Levi moved closer, leaning

on one arm. "I can control myself."

"How much control do you have?" Jared willed his voice not to shake—fear or

desire, he didn't know which. They felt pretty much like the same thing tonight. He
didn't want to feel either of them.

Levi leaned over Jared, dark hair falling over his face. His mouth hovered over

Jared's neck. "Lots."

"So if I asked you not to drink from me, you could do it, right?" Jared whispered.
"But why would I want to do that?" Levi whispered back. His lips brushed over the

soft skin of Jared's throat.

Jared shivered. "You told me you wanted to be what I want. Remember? And I

believe you, Levi. You can control yourself. You just have to prove it, okay? To yourself.
That's what I want."

Levi brought his face up on a level with Jared's, looking impatient. "That's not how

it works."

"Why not? That's what you said, right?" Jared looked up at him pleadingly.
Levi reached up, palm lying against Jared's throat, rubbing over the skin. He caught

Jared's earlobe between his fingers, rubbing it absently, tracing over the cross earring,
then leaned his forehead into Jared's. "I guess I did."

Jared frowned. "Crosses don't work? That kind of sucks."

Levi tugged at a black cord around Jared's neck. Another cross, this one wooden,

dangled at the end of it. He smirked. "I didn't know if they did or not. Guess not."

"What about stakes?"

"I don't know that either. Let me guess, you're going to pull one on me now?"
Jared cleared his throat. "I, uh. I haven't made one yet."

Levi smiled again and lowered his mouth to Jared's. He was warm this time, his lips

soft and pliant. His tongue brushed against Jared's, then again, firmer, pushing, tasting.

Levi's fingers threaded through Jared's hair, pulling gently.

Jared turned away, panting. He slid his head over the pillow, putting space between

them. "Tell me your name," he said, trying not to look at Levi. "Your real name."

Levi sighed, breath ruffling Jared's hair. "I'm not him anymore."

"It wasn't that long ago. Tell me anyway."
Levi took Jared's chin in his hand and turned him so that their eyes met. "It was

Dylan."

Jared nodded. His heart pounded. "Thank you." He licked his lips.

Levi's eyes followed his tongue, then moved back up over his face. "I hear your

heart. It's beating fast."

Jared flushed.
"I know you want me gone, Jared. I don't blame you. I just don't know if I can do

what you want." Levi sat up. The cherry tree's branches rustled outside the window,
throwing moving shadows against the wall.

"I wasn't lying. I believe you can control yourself. It'll be better for both of us,"

Jared said softly. "I want to live, Levi."

Levi watched the shadows move. "It'd be better for you. Why me?"
"You said you had to prove yourself to the others, so that means no accidents.

You're kind of—attached to me. Something could happen, maybe."

Levi still watched the shadows. "So you want me to stay away."

Jared reached down and felt for Levi's hand, gripping it. "I've screwed everything

up, Levi. I just want another chance."

Levi looked at Jared, then stared down at their hands. "Don't we all."

Chapter 5

T WAS WEDNESDAY, mid-September, and the morning sky was flawless blue slate.

Jared and his parents ate breakfast at the dining table. The sun pitched clear light

through the kitchen windows to spill over the floor. A corner of Dad's paper drooped at
the corner. He pushed it back but it wouldn't stay, so he folded it in half and laid it on

the table. It was open to the local events page, showing a brightly-colored double Ferris
wheel against the daytime sky.

"You said you're going to the fair tonight, right?" Dad asked.
"Me and Charlie." Jared tipped his cereal bowl up.

"Use your spoon, Jared," Mom said, and at the same time Dad said, "What, no

Lucy?"

"Lucy's old news, John. Pay attention." Mom threw Dad a wry look as Jared set the

bowl back on the table.

"We stopped dating a month ago, Dad."
"And you like college?" Dad fixed him with an intent look.

Jared sighed. "I better. Degrees in vet med take a while."
His dad nodded. He pushed his chair back, took his coffee cup and refilled it at the

counter, mug steaming. He looked out the window and cleared his throat. "You've been
studying hard. Coming home early. You're doing real good, Jared. I'm proud of you."

Jared flushed. It was an effort, but he kept his gaze on his father. He nodded.
His mom smiled at him. "You're growing up."

Jared smiled back, inwardly rolling his eyes. "I'm trying." He pushed his chair out

and headed for the bathroom to brush his teeth, then grabbed his book bag and headed

out the door for the bus to campus. The college had paid parking and most the time it
took forever to find a spot, so the bus was easier.

The sun bounced brightly off everything light-colored. Jared put his sunglasses on

and started down the sidewalk. The neighbor's door opened and a little Chihuahua

rushed down the steps, lifting his leg against a bush.

"Hey, Bernie," Jared said to the dog. Bernie finished his business and lowered his

leg. His whole body wagged at Jared. Jared squatted on his haunches, petting the dog's
tiny, bony head, then continued on his way. Bernie barked after him.

Jordan came out the front door of his house as Jared walked by, his brown curly

hair plastered wetly to his head in an obvious attempt to make it behave. It wouldn't

work. Never did. Jordan's hair was as irrepressible as he was.

"You big turd," Jordan greeted him, cordial as ever.

Jared nodded and stopped walking. "Dead fuck."
"You wouldn't know what kind of a fuck I am. I, however, know what a lifeless piece

of shit you've turned into. Hey, give me some shades, you got any?" Jordan loped down
the walk from the porch.

"Had to quit getting shit-faced all the time, Jordy. Why would I carry more than

one pair of sunglasses?"

"Why would you ever quit getting shit-faced?"
"Oh, to concentrate on classes. A career, eventually. My life?"

"You've been replaced by a pod, haven't you?" Jordan put a hand out and made as if

to pull up Jared's eyelid.

Jared slapped his hand away. "You can't tell the pods that easy, dickless. Where you

going?"

"Work. The baristas need someone to fondle behind the counter. You heading to

class?"

"Always."
"Want a ride?" Jordan fished out his keys.

"Sure, if you have the time." Jared followed him to the driveway and stood by the

passenger door. "Why you lock up this piece of shit I'll never know."

"Don't talk about her like that, asshole." Jordan folded himself into his old green

VW and unlocked Jared's door. He'd begun to shoot up late in high school and showed

no signs of stopping. His body weight couldn't keep up—he was a rail. "Going to the
fair?"

"Yeah, Charlie wants to go tonight."
"Shit, I wanted to go."

"So come with."

"Yeah, no. Charlie hates me. Why is that?"

"Nobody could hate you, it's in your head," Jared said, trying to make it sound

smooth and sure. Truth was, Charlie considered Jordan a waste of time, a stoner

without a future. A few months ago, he'd have thought the same about Jared.

Charlie and Jared had met in lit class and started hanging out. It'd turned into

something more, studying in Jared's room one night. Charlie had leaned over, pressed
his mouth to his, warm and wet (not cold, not like the ice Levi brought), moved lower to

his chest—

—icy mouth on his nipples, tonguing them to hardness, to diamond frostbite

stiffness, a hand wrapping itself around him, pulling, ice burning rolling up his dick,
heat moving in behind in a wave, painful, incredible—

Stop, just stop thinking about him. It. Whatever.
Jared closed his eyes. His jaw clenched, muscle jumping, unbidden. Levi would

have killed him, no matter what he'd said. Things like him couldn't help but kill.

He wondered if Levi would come back one day. Wondered if everything he planned

and hoped for was for shit.

"—come with me on Friday? Jared? Hey. Yo, calling all dead fucks—"

Jordan took hold of his shoulder and shook him. Jared jumped, startled.
"Jared? You okay?"

"Sure," Jared said, breathing hard, trying not to shiver. His cock felt like stone,

pushing against the zipper of his jeans. Jordan leaned close and peered at him, then

crossed his eyes. Jared chuffed a laugh, more nerves than anything, and pushed Jordan
away. "Get going, dickless. What time you getting off work?" Jared casually moved his

book bag closer, hiding his hard-on.

"Two."

"Great. Meet me at the house, we'll wait for you. And yeah, I'll come with you to

where-the-fuck-ever you were talking about on Friday if it's after classes. Wasn't

listening."

Jordan started the car, the old VW sputtering hesitantly to life. He ducked his head.

"Aw, hey, Jared—" he started.

"Fuck that noise. C'mon, Jordy."

"He doesn't like me."

"He doesn't know you well enough to dislike you, and if he really did he wouldn't."

"Uh, yeah. Sure." Jordan's thick, impossible hair fell over his forehead as he

regarded Jared, brown eyes solemn as a puppy's. "Maybe he's right. What he thinks

about me."

Jared stared at him. "Look, go inside and get yourself a tampon if it's your time of

the month, man. Or put it in gear before we're both late."

Jordan frowned at him, his eyes bleak, almost angry. His mouth turned down and

he nodded, looking out the windshield. "Whatever," he muttered.

He looked so unhappy that Jared reached out, ruffling his hair. Jordan glared at

him and tried to twist away, so Jared buried his fingers and shook them from side to
side. Jordy's hair was soft and thick and full, the ends of it already dry, and it flew all

over his head.

Jordan sighed. "I had really hoped you'd quit shit like that. We're grown now, El

Stupido."

Jared wiggled his fingers again.

"Withdraw. Do not touch me anymore."
"But it feels so good," Jared moaned, squirming in his seat for good measure.

"You are not giving me the gay eye."
Jared wiggled his eyebrows at Jordy. "Maybe I am."

Jordan snorted. "Yeah. You don't like me that way."
"Maybe I do."

"Fuck you."
"What I'm talking about."

Jordan laughed, defeated. "Get your fingers out the bush, man, before all of higher

learning collapses without your presence." Jordan pulled the car out of the driveway,

grumbling under his breath, his hair sticking out all over his head in shaggy, thick
waves.

Jared grinned and sat back, admiring the effects of his work.

Chapter 6

HARLIE, JARED AND Jordan wandered the Midway, the warmth of the sun overhead

sinking into their already over-heated scalps. They passed a small trailer, rows of glossy

candy apples sitting on foldout counters. Next to that was a booth manned by a skinny
old guy who rolled cotton candy on paper cones as if he'd been born to it. The sweet

smell followed them as they walked by.

They stopped at another booth, squinting at the blue and orange menu proclaiming

FUNNEL CAKES! CORN DOGS! CARAMEL APPLES! COTTON CANDY!
DEEP-FRIED PBJ—TRY IT, YOU'LL LOVE IT!

"Fried PBJ. Really?" said Jared.
"It's on a stick," Jordan said. "The bread's round and filled with the goop."

"Goop on a stick," Charlie repeated. The sun shone copper and gold in his hair.

"And this is good?"

"Portable, filling, delicious. You don't even have to sit down—hit a ride and eat at

the same time. What's not to love?" Jordan smacked his lips.

Charlie rolled his eyes. "Good for munchies, huh?"
Jordan squinted at Charlie in the bright sunlight, eyes narrowing. "How would you

know? Does Jim Beam give you munchies, too?"

Jared grabbed both their arms. "You fuckers give it a rest. Charlie, Jordan's my best

friend—computer geek extraordinaire, weed smoker extraordinaire and champion of
baristas the world over. Jordan, Charlie's a good guy, a good friend and a good lay."

Jared put out a hand to stop him as Jordan opened his mouth. "You two are required to
get along. You will not fuck up my good times. Okay?"

"Why did you say I'm a good guy first?"
"What?" Jared squinted in the sunlight at Charlie. The scent of warm sugar and

cinnamon and deep fried everything wafted in the air.

"You should have mentioned the good lay bit first."

"Uh. Why?" Jared asked.
"If I had a good lay like me, it'd be uppermost in my mind at all times. I'd have

mentioned that first."

"First, you're a freak, and second, does that mean you don't have a good lay?"

Jordan grinned.

"What? I did not say that," Charlie said.
"You said 'if I had a good lay.'" Jordan turned to Jared, shaking his head sadly.

"Charlie says you're not a good lay. I'm disappointed in you."

"Oh yeah? You wouldn't be," Jared said, not in the least perturbed. He looked at

Jordan and licked his lips. Jordan flushed a little, and Jared's mouth quirked.

"Excuse me, I'm right here," Charlie said loudly.

"Don't you worry, Charlie. You're a dick, true, but I know you at least think you

suck it good." Jordan turned to Jared. "Does he?"

Jared swatted at a monster black fly buzzing around him, then gave Jordan an

exasperated look.

"Tell him," Charlie said.
Jared rolled his eyes, but he nodded.

Charlie gave Jordan a smug grin. "See? It's all about priorities."
"I forgot to mention the part where you're both assholes, didn't I?" said Jared.

Charlie raised a brow at Jared as if to say oh really.
"I already know that," Jordan replied. "Yet you still hang with us. You have no

sense of judgment about people. Whatsoever."

Charlie looked Jordan up and down. "That we can agree on."

"Fuck you both." Jared walked away from the booth. Jordan and Charlie stayed in

line.

"Eh, I think he's mad," Charlie said.
Jordan breathed in deep as smoked barbeque hit the wind from somewhere close-

by. "He's not. He's just tired of listening to us. He'll be fine by the time we get our food.
Gonna try the PBJ?"

Charlie shook his head, looking uneasy. "I don't know."
"C'mon. Man up."

Charlie smiled. "Okay then. Two PBJ's on a stick."
Jordan nodded. "I'll get the princess some cotton candy, at least."

Charlie snorted. He watched people moving by in bunches until he was given his

PBJ. He and Jordan walked to where Jared stood, pointedly paying them no attention.

Charlie held up his stick, looking doubtfully at the saucer-shaped hunk of deep-fried
dough and powdered sugar on the end of it. Jordan smirked at him, which goaded him

to give the thing a try.

Charlie chewed slowly, considering. He offered Jared a bite. Jared took it and

chewed, wrinkling his nose a little. It was sweet, greasy and heavy, like most things at
the fair. Jared grabbed the rest from Charlie and wolfed it down as they wandered along

the Midway, then wiped his hands on the bottom of Charlie's shirt. Jordan laughed.
Charlie didn't like it but he stood for it.

Charlie ponied up money to shoot hoops in a narrow, flimsy booth with stuffed

animals and plaques and assorted bright-colored junk tacked up all over the walls. He

shot once, twice, three times. The last two times the ball hit the rim and bounced off.
Charlie frowned.

"Go again?" A grizzled man leaned over the scratched-up counter of the booth and

grinned at them. His teeth were worn and terrifically yellow.

Jordan pointed at the hoops. "Give it up, Charlie. The hoops are elliptical. I doubt

the ball can even fit in most of them."

"What are you talking about?" the booth attendant protested.
Charlie squinted. "How can you tell?"

Jordan wiped sweat off his brow with his arm. "Can't really, but it's a standard con.

The angle keeps you from realizing it. Most of the booths nowadays don't even bother to

cheat—they just charge like crazy to play. I think you found yourself an old timer, here."

Charlie gave the man in the booth a disgusted look. The guy shot him a bird.

"Take my money and get yourself to a dentist," Charlie yelled as he walked away.

Jordan laughed.

The three of them rode the Scrambler. Jordan's hair flew wildly throughout the

ride, and it was still standing out from his head afterward as they walked away. Jared

made fun of him until he smoothed it down again.

Next up was the Starship ride. The spin hit maximum and the bottom dropped out,

centrifugal force holding them to the pads on the wall. Jordan wondered dizzily what
would happen if he puked up his PBJ, then nearly lost it thinking about where it'd end

up if he did. He managed not to humiliate himself. When it was over he fled the ride,

breathing deep and slow as they walked down the Midway.

Charlie grabbed his arm. "Hey, you okay? You don't look so good. You need Jared

to look at you?"

Jordan looked confused. "What?"
"He's pre-vet med, right? He can help you."

Jordan stared at him and spread out his arms. "I am not an animal!" he cried out to

the skies. He staggered.

Jared grabbed his arm, steadying him. "The doctor has just what you need. Rather,

Charlie does. A refreshing alcoholic beverage."

"Ugh." Jordan said, covering his mouth. "PBJ and alcohol, gross. Just where would

he be stowing the booze?"

"Pockets, man. Many pockets." Charlie bent and opened a pocket on the leg of his

jeans. "It's kind of awkward to maneuver with, but fuck it."

"Handy," Jordan agreed, voice muffled, talking through his hand. He dropped it.

"Here I thought you were a dumbass wearing painter pants, when all along you were

carrying."

"I'm not carrying. I'm not one of your drug buddies, Jordan." Charlie straightened

up, looking him in the eye.

"Lay off, Charlie," Jared said impatiently.

Jordon looked up at the sky, sighing. "It's important that you distinguish yourself

from the druggies, I get it. Can we get to drinking now?"

"Thought you were sick," Charlie said.
Jordan watched idly as a dozen or so large birds in a V-formation flew by overhead.

"And suddenly I'm all about overcoming that."

"PBJ and JD." Jared slung an arm around Jordan's neck as they walked. "Grease,

peanut butter, jelly, shaken up and stirred—"

Jordan closed his eyes and let Jared guide him a moment. "Damn you. I will hurl

on your shoes." He opened his eyes again and looked at Jared. "You know, I actually
think I need more food. What'd go good with JD—hey, I got it. A Reuben."

Jared pushed him away. "Hog."
"A Reuben?" Charlie asked doubtfully.

"On a stick." Jordan raised his brows and nodded, quick and happy. "Everything

you could possibly want to eat at the fair is on a stick. Like I told you."

Jared grinned. "Think I want a gyro." A dimple creased his cheek.
Charlie looked smitten. "Sure. Anything you want."

Jordan rolled his eyes and mimed gagging.
They bought two Reubens (on sticks) and a gyro from a fairly clean-looking booth

lined with cheery red and yellow lightbulbs. Jordan thought his Reuben tasted great. It
went down fine, no lingering nausea in sight.

They followed the food with some JD behind a tiny orange tent offering caricature

portraits, then wandered around until they found a pig race about to start. The call to

the post sounded, silencing the spectators momentarily. The pigs took off, small, bright-
colored saddle cloths tied around their torsos. They were surprisingly fast, short little

legs and pink bodies flying around a fenced track lined with hay. The noise levels rose
again as the crowd cheered for their favorites. Two laps later, Jared collected on a five

dollar bet with Charlie when a spotted pig by the name of Britney Spareribs won the
race, stopping just over the finish line afterward to chow down a tasty treat as a reward.

After the pig race, they took a look inside a trailer with BONNIE AND CLYDE'S

DEATH CAR!, a bullet-ridden Ford V8. Jared told Jordan and Charlie it was almost

certainly a fake since the real death car was supposedly out in Nevada somewhere, but it
didn't matter much. Bullet holes and blood were always of interest.

After they left the trailer, they headed for the roller coaster and then the Tilt-a-

Whirl, capping it off with more JD. And more JD.

The sun was setting, the lights of the Midway becoming visible against the

backdrop of pink and purple sky. The air was still close but cooling. Jared, Charlie and

Jordan walked through a tunnel running underneath the street to the east side of the
Midway. They emerged and took a narrow dirt path off the paved route. It was darker

there, the rides and attractions spaced further apart.

It took a moment for Jordan and Charlie to realize that Jared had dropped behind

them. Jordan looked back first. Jared had stopped dead in the middle of the path,
staring off at a big green tent. Jordan looked at Charlie, who shrugged. They walked

back to where Jared stood.

"Hey, what's up?" Jordan asked.

Jared blinked hard, as if trying to clear his vision. Jordan looked in the same

direction as Jared and found himself staring at an open flap leading inside the tent. The

inside was brightly lit. People were buying souvenirs stacked in neat rows and hanging
from displays on foldout tables.

"I thought—I thought I—" Jared's eyes were wide. He looked at Charlie and Jordan,

then back at the tent opening.

"What?" Charlie asked.
Jared didn't answer and didn't move. Charlie put a hand to his jaw, turning Jared

to look at him. Jared jerked away, turning back to the tent.

"What's up?" Jordan said, giving Charlie a quelling look. "Seen a ghost?"

"Nothing," Jared muttered. "Thought I saw someone I knew."
The silence drew out, all of them staying where they were.

Finally Jared said, "Maybe not." His eyes were too wide, his face pale. He walked off

the way they'd been headed.

Chapter 7

LOW IT DOWN," Charlie drawled, but if Jared heard him up ahead, he didn't

respond. Charlie frowned. "Wait!" he called. "Look. Sideshow. We gotta to check it out."
He pointed at a big sign lit by glaring white lights with FREAKS OF THE WORLD

painted in lurid green and purple letters. In smaller letters below were SEE THE
PICKLED PUNKS and CECILIA – HEAD OF A BEAUTIFUL GIRL, BODY OF A

150 LB. SNAKE!! and finally 320 LB. BABY – IT LIVES!

"Sideshow?" Jared turned back slowly. The color was back in his face.

Jordan and Charlie nodded, grinning.
Jared's brows rose. "Rubber babies in jars? Photos of rubber babies in jars?"

Jordan and Charlie nodded again, still grinning. "I don't think there's a jar big

enough to hold a 320 lb. baby," Charlie added.

"You never know. Marvels and mysteries inside," Jordan said, sweeping a hand

somewhat drunkenly toward the entrance and losing his balance. He recovered without

falling, looking startled that he did. Jared cuffed him on the head, seeming to shake off
whatever it was that had made him act so strangely.

The barker stood behind a podium at the top of the stairs by the entrance. He wore

a red-striped suit and smelled like whiskey, strong enough that they could smell it even

though they'd been drinking. The glaring lights bounced off his broad, bald head. He
took their money and ushered them inside.

The display cases ran back-to-back down the middle, brightly lit, glassed in and

facing outward. Curtains the color of rusty blood lined the walls from top to bottom,

dark and blank, keeping the focus on the center of the room.

Jordan and Jared walked over to the largest display. Cecilia the snake girl sat

behind plexiglass, wood chips strewn over the floor.

"As advertised," Jared said, smiling at the girl. "Head of a girl, body of a snake."

"Damn, that is one heavy shellac job on the snake part," Jordan said, waving at her

with two fingers. "See the mirrors?"

Cecilia smiled, inclined her head. "Want to hear my sad, sad story?" Her lips were

bright red, and her dark hair flowed over her snake body.

"Thanks but no thanks," Jordan said.
"We just wanted to see you," Jared said, smiling at her. "You're amazing."

Cecilia laughed. Her teeth were white and small and perfect. "Aren't I, though."
Jordan looked at Jared incredulously as they walked away.

"Don't give me shit, it's her job," Jared said, bumping Jordan's shoulder with his.

They moved down the trailer, checking out more of the displays.

"Ugh," Charlie said, looking through glass at the huge hairless man in a diaper. "If

that were my baby I'd shoot it."

The man grinned at them and scratched his chest. "It's a living."
Jared smiled back, and Charlie patted Jared's back.

"Most of this shit's just pictures," Jordan said contemptuously, moving past Jared

and Charlie. The floor creaked beneath his steps.

"What'd you expect? I think it's great," said Jared.
Charlie reached into one of the cases and tapped glass. "Here's the jar babies." He

peered closely into the viscous, greenish fluid. "Oh my god, this one's got two penises."

He frowned. "I think. Kind of hard to tell on a fetus."

He moved to the next display. This one had another jar inside, a "certified doctor's

statement" in officious-looking print, and a framed article. "Apparently this guy vomits

up a gallon of puke every day. This says he tried to stop but he got really sick, and when
he did blow, everything that was backed up came on out. It was like Old Faithful. Now

he just goes with the flow, so to speak—oh ha ha, they made a funny. He's in perfect
health now," Charlie said, reading. "Apparently his system has adapted to the acid in the

digestive juices. And looky here, a jar of vomit preserved for the curious. Nasty. Looks
like any old floating, preserved vomit. I guess." He rolled his eyes.

Jordan looked in a tall aquarium sitting in one of the display cases. "Devil piranhas

from Brazil strip a cow to the bone within minutes!!" he read, then looked in the tank.

He sighed. "There's not even a feeder fish in there to rip up."

Jared stepped in front of the tank and peered in at the piranhas swimming around.

"One of them is missing an eye. Bet the others ate it. Make you feel better?"

He moved off down the row of displays, then stopped before one of them and

whistled, long and low. Jordan looked at the case where Jared was standing, seeing only
a couple of black and white photos and a yellowed newspaper article taped up alongside

them.

"His balls are so big he's sitting on them," Jared breathed. He leaned closer and

peered at the picture, wrinkling his nose. "Motherfuckers, he is sitting on his balls." He
gestured at the others to come and see.

"That's not real," Jordan protested.
"How do you know?"

"Because I know. You're gullible, man."
"You don't know. He's got a bonafide condition. Gigantism of the balls. Poor guy."

Jared shook his head and then laughed. "How the fuck would you get around with a set
like that? A wheel barrel, maybe?" The others crowded around him, peering inside the

case.

"Never mind that. How does one even clothe gigantor balls?" Charlie asked.

"Best just to wear a muumuu," Jordan decided.
"A muumuu." Jared's upper lip curled. The florescent light gave his hair a bluish

tinge.

"If it were real and if I had those balls, I'd wear a muumuu."

"Thanks for that mental picture," Charlie muttered. "Let's get out of here." He

headed back toward the door. Jared and Jordan followed along slowly.

"Was it everything you hoped for?" Jordan asked Jared as they climbed down the

stairs outside.

Jared grinned. "Yeah. It kind of was."
Jordan laughed. "You're trashed."

The barker was silent, no one close enough to try and entice inside. He smirked at

them. Jared stared at the light reflecting off his head and stumbled on the bottom step,

twisting his ankle. He sat on the ground and pointed up at the guy. "Your head, shit.
That is mesmerizing."

"Fuck you," said the carny.
"Let me get my shades first," Jared sneered. The guy laughed.

Charlie put out a hand to pull him up on his feet. "You okay?"
"Yeah, sure." Jared winced a little but started walking. "Need more booze."

"Truer words. Come on, guys. Round the back," Charlie said, pulling them both off

the path and stepping over cables behind the sideshow trailer. More cables snaked over

the ground, emanating humming electrical sounds. A hedge ran a couple of yards
behind the trailer. There were shadows all around.

Charlie pulled the JD out of his pants pocket and looked at it sadly. "We hardly

knew you," he said to it. He took a long swallow, then passed it to Jordan.

Jordan took it, listening to the nonstop cacophony of music in the background. The

trailer acted like a buffer between them and the rest of the world, the noise and

movement on the other side of it still there but separate. He heard a voice ringing out
from the strongman game, back the way they'd come: Who wants to prove they're a

man instead of a boy?

He tipped the bottle skyward, staggering backward into a warm body. Jared

wrapped his arms around him. Jordan jerked, surprised, but stayed where he was. His
limbs felt heavy, his back warm and comfortable where Jared leaned into him.

A bell clanged. Somebody must have been a man, not a boy, Jordan thought, trying

not to think about how his heart was speeding up with Jared wrapped around him.

Charlie moved up close in front of him and leaned in, speaking softly. "Seen you

looking at him, Jordan. It's okay." He leaned over Jordan's shoulder, and Jared kissed

him.

Jordan's stomach tightened. "Uh, I don't want to be the middle of your sandwich.

And may I remind you, Charlie, you don't like me?"

"I have grown to like you," Charlie said, somewhat drunkenly. "This very night."

Jared spoke in Jordan's ear. "Told you. Nobody can dislike you unless they

themselves suck ass and are stupid. Which Charlie is not."

Jordan shivered at Jared's breath against his ear. He turned his head and looked at

him. This close, he felt the heat of Jared's face, saw stubble catch red light from the

double Ferris wheel on the other side of the Midway. Jared's eyes were wide and happy,
the hollows of his cheeks dark with shadow. His mouth curved, watching Jordan watch

him. He pressed closer, chin digging into Jordan's shoulder.

Jordan didn't move. His heart was thumping in his chest. He thought maybe Jared

could hear it.

Jared kissed him on the cheek. "Just inside," he whispered, "is a guy with huge

balls. And you think this is weird?"

"It's just a picture," Jordan breathed. He swallowed hard, turned his head a little

more and pushed his mouth against Jared's before he could chicken out. He felt Jared's
lips curve against his and then kiss him back.

Jared's arms tightened around him. He tasted sweet and boozy, perfect, and

suddenly Jordan was leaning back against Jared and moaning, clutching the back of his

neck, desperate to pull him closer. It was an awkward position but he didn't care.

Charlie kissed them from the side, brushed Jordan's mouth where he and Jared's

mouth met. Jordan pulled back, his eyes meeting Jared's, confused. Charlie leaned
forward, looking at him and asking permission with his eyes, and this time Jordan let

him in.

Charlie was a good kisser. Then all three of them were trying to kiss together in an

uncoordinated, eager tangle of wet, warm mouths. Jordan had never actually touched
another guy this way before, though he'd thought about it. It was overwhelming and

insanely hot.

Jared's hand crept beneath Jordan's shirt, fingers reaching, stroking skin lazily

behind his belt buckle and jeans, his fingers a little rough and dry against his skin.

Jordan shivered, thrusting his hips out, and Charlie cupped him through his pants and

squeezed, slow and rhythmic, released and squeezed again. Jared smoothed a hand up
over his chest, flicking and then rolling Jordan's nipple between his fingers.

"Fuck, fuck, you guys," Jordan said, immediately embarrassed at the breathy tone

of his voice. His cock jumped and throbbed in his pants, hot and hard. His belly was

tight with need. He arched back and turned his face, searching for Jared, and Jared's
mouth descended on his again, slick, their tongues sliding together, hungry, tasting,

feeling every wet drag and suck of skin on skin. Charlie's hand rubbed up and down.

Jordan hoped like hell he could hold back and not blow for a little longer, though he

doubted it. Jared's mouth was doing something insane to his insides. His balls drew up
tightly, his legs trembling on the verge of orgasm. He groaned out of desperation, heard

himself and stopped, but Jared heard him anyway and kissed him harder, moaning
back. Jared's hand slid underneath the waistband of Jordan's underwear, rubbing into

crisp hair. He touched Jordan's cock, wrapped fingers around the head and squeezed.
Jordan gasped a sound into Jared's mouth, low and deep and needy.

Charlie unbuttoned and unzipped him, and then his dick was out, bobbing in the

night air. It was a relief being freed from against his hot skin, but he still had the urge to

cover himself, because even drunk and hidden away behind a trailer, he couldn't quite
forget he was out in public. Jared's hand left him and he wanted to protest but then

Charlie sank to his knees, his mouth on Jordan's dick, and it was incredible, his tongue
swirling all over, sucking, moving up and down. Jordan thrust into his mouth, hips

rocking. He leaned back against Jared, squeezing his eyes together tightly, his hand
around the back of Jared's neck. Their tongues tangled together wildly, Jared making

low noises into Jordan's mouth.

He knew it wasn't fair, it was small and maybe mean, though he didn't mean it that

way, but he couldn't help it. The alcohol and the dark opened up something from under
lockdown inside him. He couldn't shut it out. He opened his eyes, pulled away a fraction

and looked into Jared's pale eyes, nearly all pupil now, wide and warm, and he
whispered, "Want it to be you." Jared closed his eyes a minute, looking almost pained,

and then he covered Jordan's mouth with his own again, harder and rougher this time,
out of control. He moved against Jordan, unzipping himself, and Jordan felt Jared's dick

rubbing against his ass, smooth dry heat sliding up and down.

Jordan shivered, his dick leaping in Charlie's mouth, and Charlie made a deep

sound that buzzed into Jordan's cock, his balls tightening further. Then he was coming,
spasms pulling from deep inside him into Charlie's throat. His legs trembled and his

knees buckled a little before Jared caught him tighter to him, panting in his ear and then
biting his earlobe, a sharp pain that sent him flying, heightening his orgasm further into

something wrenching and sharp, incredible. Jordan clamped his mouth together but the
sounds he made escaped anyway. It was like a catalyst for Jared, thrusting up and

pushing against Jordan. Jordan felt Jared's cock jerk against him, and it was the next
best thing to coming again, feeling the thrum and pound of Jared's heart against his

back, the hitching breaths hot against his ear as Jared's come spilled out of him.

Charlie stood up, wiping his mouth, and Jared opened his eyes, blinking, dazed. All

three of them moved in closer and just looked at each other. Charlie leaned forward,
hungry, and Jared swallowed his mouth. It made something curl and burn inside

Jordan's chest. He didn't want to feel that way about Charlie, not after tonight. He put a
hand to Charlie's waist but Jared was already there, unzipping him, and then both of

their hands were on Charlie's cock, sliding over him, rubbing precome into his skin.
Charlie groaned and threw his head back, stumbling a little, and Jared caught him and

put his back against the trailer, making a small thudding sound. Charlie's dick throbbed
beneath Jordan's palm. Jordan was surprised at how fine it felt.

"Fuck, fuck," Charlie whispered. Jared looked him in the eyes and jacked him fast

and furious, so that Jordan gave up and moved away a little, suddenly not wanting to

look, knowing that being jealous was ridiculous. Charlie and Jared were together, he
knew that.

Charlie whispered Jordan's name, so that Jordan had to look. He saw something in

Charlie's eyes that said maybe he understood more than Jordan wanted him to know.

Charlie beckoned, and Jordan looked at Charlie's soft eyes, the need in his face. He
leaned in and kissed him, all energy and fury, taking it out on him a little, that he should

know and understand. Charlie's head banged into the back of the trailer.

Jordan looked down and saw Charlie's dick in Jared's fist, head appearing and

disappearing, red and swollen. Charlie gasped and Jordan bit his lip, hearing the sudden
intake of breath against his mouth. Charlie's body bowed out from the trailer, straining.

His cock jerked, come spurting dimly upward in the gloom and curving into the air.

"Fuck," Jared whispered, watching.

Charlie and Jordan looked at him, his lips swollen and red, curling at the corner,

and then Charlie closed his eyes and slumped against the trailer. Jordan could just see

the glint of gold lashes by the lights of the Midway. Then he looked at Jared again,
thinking. Jared looked back but didn't say anything.

A shadow came between them. Jordan blinked. It was so odd—one minute just the

three of them were there, and next a stranger stood in the middle of them, dark-haired,

good-looking, wearing jeans and a tight T-shirt that showed his trim body. He was a
couple of years older at most. It was as if he'd appeared from nowhere.

"Who are—" Jordan started to speak and then stopped, watching Jared, because

Jared didn't look at all surprised at the sight of the guy standing in their midst. A myriad

of emotions flew over Jared's face, anger and fear and other things that Jordan couldn't
understand but that made his stomach drop.

"Do you know him?" he asked Jared. He tried to fight the sluggishness settling over

him. He needed to understand what was happening.

Jared wouldn't look at him. Charlie looked at Jordan questioningly. Jordan shook

his head as Jared straightened, facing the guy.

"I tried," the stranger said before Jared could speak. He laid a hand on Jared's

chest. "I really did. I can't. I don't know how. I think about you all the time."

"You know I'm going to college? Trying to make a life for myself." Jared's face had

gone bone white. His fists clenched at his sides and he swallowed. "Please don't."

"I know. I can't—don't ask me to leave. I need you. I'm so cold all the time."
"Jared—" Jordan started again.

The stranger looked at him with burning eyes. His lips didn't move, but Jordan

heard a voice speaking in his head, low and intimate. Jared knows me. I'm Levi. I need

to talk to him. Jordan opened his mouth but nothing came out. His voice was gone.
Terror rushed into his chest, sudden and tight. He tried to move and couldn't.

Levi turned back to Jared. "I'm sorry."
"Why?" Jared pleaded. "Why me?"

"I read your blood, you know. Your thoughts, your hopes."
"That's not an answer!" Jared's voice shook. "There has to be something. A reason."

Levi shook his head. "I don't know. You're just … you. You're beautiful. Nobody else

measures up."

"I'm not. I don't want to be anything to you," Jared said, loud and sharp.
Levi flinched. "Don't say that. Part of you does or I wouldn't be here."

Jared nodded, deflating suddenly. His fists unclenched and his shoulders sagged.

"Doesn't matter anyway, does it. Doesn't change anything." He looked gray and sick.

"Just leave them alone, okay?" He looked at Charlie and Jordan. "They're my friends.
Don't hurt them."

Levi nodded. "I know. I won't."
"You can wipe their memories, can't you?" Jared's voice was flat and dull, not really

a question in it.

Levi nodded again. "When they look at me, I can speak to them. Tell them to forget,

tell them … " he shrugged. "Anything." He looked at Charlie and Jordan in turn and
smiled, sudden and sharp, a predator. "I smell them. And you."

Jared blinked hard and looked at the ground. Levi stepped close and put a hand to

Jared's jaw, made him look up at him, and then shoved him against the trailer. Jared's

body thumped against it. He looked over at Jordan, terrified. Then he closed his eyes, as
if afraid of what else Jordan might see.

Jordan tried to speak. Words piled and dammed up in his throat until he thought

he would choke, but he couldn't force them out. He tried moving, but he couldn't make

himself take a step. He pushed himself, tried harder. It felt as if were using up all his
strength, his oxygen, but he couldn't do it. It felt crazy, like he was stuck in a prison, stiff

and cold. Only the prison was his body. He didn't feel connected to it.

He could see Charlie from the corner of his eye, standing beside him. He couldn't

seem to move, either. Both of them stood and watched Levi talk to Jared, his voice a cold
cloud of ice rising in the night air. Jordan didn't understand. The night air was warm.

Levi stroked Jared's jaw. He lowered his mouth to Jared's and kissed him. Jared's

fingers curled and dug into the wall. His body was rigid. Levi murmured something in

his ear, then buried his face in Jared's neck. He unfastened Jared's jeans, his hand
disappearing inside.

Jared's arm came up and wrapped around Levi. Strangled, panting noises came

from his throat. He didn't look at Jordan or Charlie. Levi's hand moved faster. Jared's

body twisted and writhed, and then he was coming again, moaning, tears streaming

down his face.

Jordan wanted to vomit. He wanted to kill Levi. He tried again with everything he

had to make himself move, to push Levi away, hit him, make him stop touching Jared,

but he couldn't. He couldn't turn away from Jared's choked, helpless arousal or the
shame in his eyes afterward.

All he could do was watch the bottom drop out of his world. Then even that was

gone, forgotten.

Chapter 8

ORDAN REMEMBERED NOTHING about Levi stepping out of the darkness, or the

devastation on Jared's face and his own anguish at having to watch. He remembered the
taste of Jim Beam, PBJ, and Jared's and Charlie's mouths. He remembered their hands

and lips on him and how it made him feel.

And after that they were on the Midway, heading for the parking lot.

The fair was beginning to clear out, rides still lit but mostly empty. Babies were in

strollers, heads lolling as they slept, parents walking slow and tired behind them. Two

teenagers kissed by the side of a snow cone shack. Moths flew high up in fluttering white
spots close to the lights.

Charlie had an arm slung around Jordan's neck. He listed to one side and they

staggered, laughing. Jordan's face felt hot, laughing so much. The night air felt good

against it.

Jared walked quietly beside them. His eyes were puffy and he looked tired. Charlie

asked him something, but he didn't answer. Jordan didn't think he'd heard. Charlie
shrugged and stopped at a concession stand to buy a soda.

They were almost to the park exit when Charlie said, "Hey, look!" He pointed at a

house of mirrors still open for business. Dark castle spires rose into the sky, the sign

overhead proclaiming HELL HALL in spiky black and neon purple letters.

Charlie trotted to the entrance, gesturing at Jordan and Jared to follow. Jared

reached out after him and opened his mouth, then closed it as if it were too much
trouble. Jordan looked at him, shrugging, and they both followed Charlie.

It was more than a little dark inside, candle-like bulbs flashing off and on, lighting

up faux stone floors and cobwebs hanging off the doorways. It didn't take long at all

before Jordan decided that HELL HALL was stupid, with row after row of tall mirrors
that made him look fat, skinny, and in general like a freak—never mind fucking up his

sense of direction so badly he thought he'd never get through the maze. But then he was
trashed as hell.

So was Charlie, but somehow he moved through much more easily. They heard him

whooping ahead of them.

"He's having a party all on his own up there. Idiot," Jordan said, sounding

grouchier than he'd meant it. Jared glanced at him and didn't say anything.

They reached another area, this one with black columns and swooping arches,

replicating and fading into seeming infinity ahead. Strobe lights flickered on-off-on.

Music thumped loud bass against their skin and through the floor into the soles of their
feet.

Ahead of Jordan, Jared's body stiffened, ramrod straight, then backpedaled into

him. Jordan almost fell, crashing into a mirrored wall at his back instead.

"Jared?" He clutched at Jared's shoulders. "What's up?"
Jared huddled closer into Jordan's body. He didn't answer. His head moved back

and forth, looking for something, who knew what. Jordan looked, too. He didn't see
anything. He couldn't even hear Charlie anymore.

The glassy walls stared back at them in the on-off light. Jordan's eyes were half-

closed, arms around Jared in the mirrors. He looked happy. Jared was wide-eyed, his

expression serious.

"So what are we looking for?" Jordan said, his voice rising to compete with the

music. He looked around them. "Charlie!" he yelled. Charlie didn't answer.

"Jesus, will you stop that." Jared winced at the shout in his ear. "I thought I saw—"

"Somebody you know, right?"
Jared went white as a sheet. "Did you see someone?"

"No, it's just the same thing you said at the tent earlier. Are you okay?"

"Is it cold in here?" Jared's eyes didn't stop moving, searching the area.

Jordan stared at him in the mirror. "No way. Are you gonna tell me what's wrong or

not?"

Jared looked back at him. "Like what?" His eyes were blank, no feeling at all in

them.

Maybe he regretted what they'd done. He'd been acting strange since then. Jordan's

stomach dropped. "I, uh, are you—if you're sorry about what happened back there, that's

okay." He dropped his arm from around Jared's waist.

It wasn't okay. He couldn't imagine anything being less okay. But if Jared thought

this was a mistake, then Jordan would have to deal with it.

Jared turned around and grabbed him, hugged him tight. His hair tickled Jordan's

nose. "I'm sorry, Jordy. I don't know what to do, shit."

He was sorry. Jesus. Jordan's stomach dropped. His stomach squeezed down like a

vise on the crap he'd ingested all day.

He knew he wasn't supposed to push. They were friends. Jared was with Charlie. So

they included him in with them this once, so what? They'd all been drunk.

Jordan kissed Jared. He didn't mean to do it. He couldn't stop himself. The best

friend he'd ever had, and he was kissing him and he didn't want to stop, God he didn't.
He kept his eyes closed, trying to hide the wild, stupid, hopeless fucking hope inside

him. He might be ruining a near lifelong friendship trying to make something more of
this, to take it.

Jared's mouth was unmoving against his. Jordan's heart stopped, stricken. He felt

his face redden.

And then Jared grabbed a handful of Jordan's hair, so tight it hurt and felt good at

the same time. He kissed Jordan back, his tongue thrusting deeply into his mouth. The

back of Jordan's head whumped into the mirror. He groaned into Jared's mouth and
opened his jaw wider, letting Jared in.

Jordan's hands roved all over Jared, greedy to touch him, then underneath his

shirt, rubbing over his taut belly and around to his back, fingers sliding below his

beltline and cupping the swell of his ass. Jared shoved him against the mirror and
pinned him there with his body.

They rolled their hips, thrusting against each other through their pants, clutching at

each other's shirts and hair and anything else in reach. The mirror behind them shook

as they shoved and twisted against it. Jordan's fingers clawed at Jared's back, lost in the
heat of their bodies crushed together, the alcohol and the beat of the music thrumming

in his body.

Jared pulled out of the kiss, hand still in Jordan's hair. He tugged at it. The yellow

lights strobed over his face, his cheekbones. His pupils were blown wide open,
something wild and reckless written all over his face. His hand ripped the button on

Jordan's jeans open, shoved inside and brushed his fingers over the head of his dick,
then again. He made a fist around him, jacked him roughly. "If I want to fuck you, will

you let me?" he panted in Jordan's ear.

"God," Jordan groaned. The back of his head hit the mirrored wall again.

"Say yes, Jordy," Jared breathed. "Wanted to since forever."
Jordan bucked out from the wall, gasping, eyes squeezing shut. Visions of himself

spread wide open while Jared fucked him played out beneath his eyelids, freaking him
out a little and arousing him even more. Jared covered Jordan's mouth with his, fucking

into his mouth with his tongue, breathing hard and shallow. Jordan wrenched his
mouth away a moment, fighting for air, then tried to kiss him again, but Jared was

talking in his ear.

"Your ass is perfect, you know that?" Jared bit his ear and Jordan groaned. "I want

to open you up with my fingers, Jordy. You'll be tight but I'll take my time, slick you up
and then slide in balls deep. It might hurt the next day, but every time you feel it you're

going to get hard again, because I'm going to keep at you until nothing's left and you're
coming dry, Jordy. I've got some making up to do for all the time I've spent wanting you

and thinking I couldn't have you." He pumped Jordan faster, so hard it hurt and curled
his toes at the same time, no finesse about it. Just tight pressure, tugging, catching at the

rim of his head, squeezing at the top and slicking back down, only precome smoothing
the way. "Say yes, Jordy," said Jared again, coaxing, husky.

It sent Jordan over the edge. He felt himself spasm in Jared's grip, stars bursting

white over his closed eyelids. He couldn't keep quiet and he couldn't keep his hips still,

jerking with each pulse.

"Jesus," Jared said softly, watching Jordan's come spurt and fall over his fist.

Jordan opened his eyes, dazed. His legs felt rubbery. He hauled Jared in by the

back of his neck and kissed him again. Jared tried to pull back, say something else, but

Jordan put both hands on his face and mumbled a protest against Jared's mouth. Jared
kissed him back, smiling against his lips. He pushed his hard-on into Jordan's hip,

rubbing hard and rough against him. Jordan grabbed his ass and rocked with him. He
still couldn't catch his breath, but he didn't care.

Jared pulled back and they watched each other, breathing heavily. Jared's cheeks

were blotched red, chest rising and falling. He was gorgeous, dark hair shoved back from

his face and neck from Jordan's manhandling. There was something in his pale eyes, like
something hurt. It made Jordan want to kiss him again, so he did.

Jared kissed him back. Then he bit him, impatient.
Jordan grabbed his shoulder and turned him, slammed him back into the wall and

crowded against him. He pushed Jared's jeans low, feeling the knobby jut of hipbone,
and slipped his hand inside, fingers scrabbling to the base of Jared's cock, stiff and

smooth under his fingers.

Jordan tugged in short, tight strokes, leaning in close. "I'd do anything you ask me

to," he said into Jared's ear. His face reddened again as he said it. He could feel it, but he
didn't care. "Anything." He grabbed the neck of Jared's T-shirt, yanked it to the side and

bit hard into the meat of Jared's shoulder.

"Ow, fuck, God—" Jared yelled, his eyes widening. His body bowed outward and

went rigid. He shuddered, coating Jordan's hand with pulsing wet warmth.

They slid down the wall to the floor, wiping their hands on their jeans. Jordan

leaned over and kissed the area on Jared's shoulder where he'd bitten him in apology,
but Jared shoved him off. Jordan grinned at him and then kissed his mouth instead,

long and easy.

He settled against the wall. "Fuck," he said, rolling his head against the mirror to

look at Jared.

"Yeah," Jared agreed tiredly.

"I don't think we're ever gonna find our way out of this place."
"Charlie'll come get us."

"Speaking of," Charlie said, coming out from behind a mirror. "You left me out,

assholes. That was hot—caught the end." A mixture of lust and something edgier, not

quite anger, sat on his face.

"Perv. You like to watch, huh?" Jordan stood up, trying not to wobble. He grinned

at Charlie, hoping to jolly him out of his temper. He knew he'd feel worse if it were the
other way around.

Jared looked up at Charlie. "Teach you to take off and leave us. Missed all the fun."
Charlie stabbed out a hand to Jared. He didn't look at Jordan. Jared took his hand,

and Charlie hauled him up, then rubbed his hand against his thigh. His face went tight,
closing off.

Jared saw but ignored it. He looked around the room. "Please just tell me you can

get us the hell out of here."

"Gladly." Charlie looked at them both, then. "I wish I'd never come into this fucking

maze." He turned to lead them out.

Chapter 9

ORDAN WOKE UP the next day with cotton mouth and a headache. He sat up on the

side of the bed, stifling a moan. His muscles felt sore and tired. Even the little muscles
behind his knees hurt.

It reminded him of once when he'd unknowingly smoked a joint laced with acid.

He'd come home after and sat bolt upright at the kitchen table until near dawn,

clutching the sides of the seat. The next day muscles he hadn't known existed were sore.

Jordan went to the bathroom, yawning, scrubbed his teeth and then his face. He

wiped off with a towel, looking at himself in the mirror, strands of wet hair plastered
against his forehead. It was lighter now with the summer sun, chestnut shot through

with highlights. He combed it and it lay a little neater. Not much.

Even though he felt like shit, he couldn't stop thinking, remembering last night.

How he'd kissed Jared and Charlie goodbye, squeezing Charlie's thigh in apology just
before he went inside the house. Well, he hadn't been sorry about what happened in the

hall of mirrors, so it wasn't strictly an apology, but he was sorry because it'd made

Charlie upset. Charlie had seemed to accept it for what it was, relaxing into the kiss,

which was a lot more than Jordan had expected, frankly. But mostly he couldn't stop
thinking about how Jared's arms felt wrapped around him, mouth plastered to his, and

how he felt—high and soaring inside, excited, no limits to anything.

In the kitchen he poured himself a bowl of cereal. Birds quarreled just outside the

window. He stopped and listened to them, then sat down at the table. He sat with the
spoon dripping in mid-air, staring off into nothing. Finally he gave up on eating and

went to brush his teeth again.

He felt a little ridiculous, replaying the scene in the mirror maze in his head, but he

couldn't seem to help it. Jared was his best friend—had been for years.

Jordan had always shut down whenever he felt certain things about Jared, usually

when he was stoned. He was too scared to ever actually think about what it might mean.
And now he couldn't stop.

He didn't want to lose their friendship or the good things they'd built for years

between them, but one thing had already changed—that years-old sense of ease he felt

around Jared. He picked up his cell and called Jared on impulse, and almost
immediately his heart started pounding hard enough that he felt a little queasy. Which

was stupid, but it didn't matter. He wasn't going to let things go bad between them. They
were the same guys who'd known each other since they were kids, and that hadn't

changed overnight. Maybe what they did together had, but still, it was doable. It had
better be. Had to be.

Jared picked up the phone.
"Hey," Jordan got out. The digital alarm clock by the bed died suddenly, going

blank. He blinked at it, then looked around the room. The power was still on, so that
wasn't the problem.

"Hey." Jared's voice gave away nothing. There was an uncomfortable silence.
"Yeah, uh … got any classes this morning?"

"Nothing until late today."
"So can I come over?" Jordan gritted his teeth. He'd never really felt the need to ask

before. Shit.

"What about work?"

"I'm off." And apparently he needed to replace his alarm clock.

"See you in a few then." Jared hung up.

Jordan lay down on his bed and put a pillow over his face. Yeah, that went well. He

listened to the silence in the house for a few minutes. He sat up and wiggled the plug to

the alarm clock. Nothing. Then he headed down the street to Jared's.

The wind blew in strong gusts, orange and yellow leaves circling over the walk in

front of him. The sun was bright and the sky sharp blue. Jordan's hair blew all over his
head, and his heart beat faster as he walked.

Bernie the Chihuahua rushed out from the house next to Jared's, barreling after a

squirrel. The old lady who lived there held the door open, her blue house dress flapping

in the breeze, and waved at Jordan. Jordan waved back. The squirrel raced up a tree,
stopping midway up the trunk, tail twitching. Bernie followed, or tried to follow. He

leapt in the air, paws bracing against the trunk, barely landing on his hind legs before
bouncing up again. He barked so hard Jordan didn't see how he had time to breathe.

Jared's house looked deserted—no cars in the drive, no signs of life. Jordan climbed

the stairs to the porch and rang the bell. After a minute he heard the top lock slide open,

then the bottom.

Jared opened the door slowly. "Hey," he said. He wore washed-out jogging pants

that hung low on his hips and a muscle shirt Jordan bet he'd slept in. He looked awful,
eyes rimmed in red, the thin skin beneath puffy. He stared at a point off to the right of

Jordan's shoulder somewhere.

"What's with all the locks?" Jordan asked.

Jared shrugged. He walked into the living room and flung himself onto the soft,

overstuffed couch next to Malvoline. Her yellow eyes opened wide, startled, then closed

as Jared ran a hand down her back.

Jordan followed and sat down stiffly beside him. Malvoline meowed, irritated at the

shifting couch cushions. She jumped to the floor.

"You okay?" Jordan asked. He laced his fingers together to give his hands

something to do. The clock in the hall ticked.

Jared scowled, shoving the hair off his forehead. "I don't look okay?"

"No, you don't." Jordan frowned back, all his optimism suddenly deflating. It left

him angry. "What's Charlie's number?"

Jared's eyebrows rose. "Why?" He picked up his cell from the coffee table in front of

them, fingers rubbing aimlessly over the surface.

Jordan grabbed Jared's phone from him, exasperated. "Because he sucked me off,

moron. I may be feeling some residue of warmth toward him." He felt his face redden

but ignored it, scrolling down the list of Jared's numbers. He found Charlie's and
entered the number into his own phone. It made him feel better, as if he'd at least had

some purpose coming here other than seeing Jared, since that was going so well.

"I guess. It's just a blow job." Jared leaned back into the cushions, listless.

"Yeah. Look, Jared, I thought we'd done this already, but … is last night something

we should maybe act like never happened?" Jordan asked, all his bravado gone. The

words stuck in his throat.

Jared sighed and looked up at the ceiling. He wore a bead choker and it rolled in a

black line over his throat when he swallowed. "Stop worrying about it, Jordy."

"But if this is gonna screw us up—"

Jared looked over at him as if he'd gone crazy. "Nothing's gonna do that. We're the

same." He must have seen something in Jordan's face, because his look crossed into

impatience. "Everything's the same, man."

The same? Jordan didn't know what to do with that. It left him feeling stricken. He

tried to hide it, but it was too late.

"What? That's a good thing, you stupid shit. I've loved you since we were little,

Jordy. That other stuff won't change that."

"You—you—"

"Just shut the fuck up. Didn't you hear a word I said last night, you giant girl?"

Jared leaned over, pulled him by the front of his shirt and kissed him.

It felt like a jolt of electricity passed between them. Jordan grunted into Jared's

mouth, all the awkward stiffness in his body falling away, allowing him to move. He

swung his leg over Jared's lap and climbed on top of him. On the floor, Malvoline
meowed and batted at Jordan's ankle.

Jared laughed up at him, eyes crinkling at the corners. "That's better. You think too

fucking much."

"Not this time. Something's up. Spill it."
Jared shrugged.

Jordan grabbed him by the arms. "Jared."

"Nothing, you pothead."

Jordan's fingers dug into flesh, warning.
"Cut that out. I … maybe I shouldn't be hanging onto you when I need to fix some

shit first, is all. Except—" he bit his lip. "I don't know how."

"What shit?" Jordan knelt closer to Jared's face when he didn't answer. "Speak."

"Can't tell you or I'll have to kill you."
Jordan rolled his eyes. "Talk, you dumb fuck."

Jared looked miserable. "Shit happens. Sometimes it's not even my fault. I think."
Jordan put a hand to Jared's neck and kissed the side of his face. "You're not

hanging onto me, okay? I'm pretty sure it's the other way around, don't worry. So tell
me."

Jared shook his head. "I can't."
"That night we were up in your room, I thought I saw someone on the roof outside

the window. That's crazy, right? People just don't hang around outside a second-story
window, waiting—"

Jared looked up at him, eyes wide, pulse jumping under Jordan's touch. "You're

hallucinating people up on my roof and you're worrying about me?" With the edge of his

hand, he pressed down on Jordan's crotch, watching his face. He rubbed slowly, firmly,
then wrapped the other hand around the back of Jordan's neck and pulled him down. "I

remember you said something last night," he breathed into Jordan's mouth. "Something
about how you wanted it to be me?"

"Fuck yeah," Jordan blurted.
"Fuck yeah," Jared agreed, and unbuttoned Jordan's jeans. He pushed his

underwear down, wrapped a hand around Jordan's cock and started jacking him off.
Jordan put his head against the crook of Jared's neck and a hand in his hair, felt the

smooth strands between his fingers, and concentrated on trying not to come just
because Jared's hands were on him. It was getting to be embarrassing.

"Jordy, things with me are gonna change, but nothing we did caused it. Promise me

you'll remember that."

Jordan tried to catch his eye but Jared was looking down, and all he saw was dark,

tousled hair. Jordan put a hand on top of Jared's instead, stopping the movement.

"What're you talking about?" Jared didn't answer so leaned into his neck again and bit

him.

"Ow, you would be a biter."
"Yeah, but it gets you off."

"You get me off. Nothing, it's nothing. I don't know what the fuck I'm talking

about." Jared slapped Jordan's hip with his hand. "Move. Upstairs. I want to suck your

dick, Jordy, see what you feel like in my mouth, how you taste." He licked his lips.
"Damn that fucker Charlie for getting to you first."

"It's gonna taste like dick, dumbass," Jordan mumbled. He wasn't used to things

like that coming out of Jared's mouth, much less directed toward him. He was drunk last

night and still he shot off almost as soon as Jared started talking to him like that. His
stomach fluttered, high, nervous and hopeful for things he didn't want to think about.

Jared laughed as if he'd read his mind. He sobered, looking into Jordan's eyes.

"C'mon, okay? Want you to take your clothes off. I want to see you."

"You know what I look like," Jordan said, standing. He pulled Jared up beside him.

"Nothing special."

Jared smiled at him and kissed him, then pulled him up the stairs to his room.
"Parents are at work?" Jordan asked, acutely conscious of where they were and

what they were doing. For the first time, he felt nervous being in Jared's room. But
Jesus, they were going to fuck. Him and Jared. Or something close enough to that, and

while sober. A thrill shot through his body and his dick hardened more.

"Where else? They're there till five, you know that already." Jared smirked. "Unless

they come home early for some reason. It could happen."

"Asshole," Jordan said loudly. Jared laughed and pushed him in through the

doorway.

Jordan sat down on the end of Jared's bed. He took his shoes off and stood, the

floor cool beneath his feet. He pulled his shirt over his head and flushed, watching
Jared's eyes travel over his body.

Jared caught the flush and grinned appreciatively. "Nothing special to you, maybe.

But then you're not too bright."

"I'm, um. Quit looking at me that way."
"Why?"

"Fuck you is why. Not used to it."

Jared rolled his eyes. "You're blind. I've been looking at you this way for years."

"You never once—"
"I always." Jared shrugged. "It was weird, I know. I felt bad about it. I tried not to

let you see. Didn't want to freak you out."

"Jared, I would have seen because I—"

"People hide things, you know? When they don't want to mess up."
"I wanted to see. Jesus. I wanted it." The words burst out of him.

Jared moved closer and looked at him. "I'm pretty sure you're straight."
"Don't tell me what I am. That doesn't make any sense. I'm not even sure. I wanted

—shit, I covered, okay. Same as you."

Jared looked thoughtful. "So we're stupid?"

"Yeah. Think so."
"I don't want you to feel bad, Jordy. Last night, what we did, I won't ever regret it.

You have to stop questioning that." Jared's face was solemn.

Jordan grabbed his arm. "Anybody ever tell you to work on your timing, moron?

Thought I was gonna get a blow job, and then here you are with your 'I don't want you to
feel bad, Jordy' shit."

"I mean it. You have to believe me, no matter what, okay?" Jared's voice was soft,

low. He leaned over and kissed Jordan, lingering, fingers threading in his hair.

Jordan wrapped an arm around Jared's waist, tilting his face up and kissing him

long and slow before answering. "How the hell am I going to say no to you, Jared—okay,

yes. Okay? I believe you. Now tell me what the fuck is going on. You're freaking me out."

Jared blinked, a flash of sorrow over his face, gone as soon as it came. "I know. But

we can't stop it. We can't change it."

"Keep it up and I'm going to tie you up and keep you that way until I find out what

the hell you're talking about," Jordan threatened, apprehension tightening his stomach.

"You want to tie me up, Jordy? Because I'm on board with that, man." Jared

unzipped Jordan's pants and slipped a hand inside.

"Jesus," Jordy groaned, thinking of Jared naked and tied, flushed face and chest,

waiting for him. Jared sank to his knees and pulled at Jordan's pants. Jordan put a hand
to his and stopped him. "What is this, Jared? You say this stuff, then you do—you do

that, get down on your knees—" he gestured shakily, then rubbed a hand over his hair.

"Get up and tell me what's going on first."

"I'm sorry. I don't know. I wanted to—it's just, we didn't know because we're stupid,

and Charlie, he got to and I didn't, and it's too late." He stared at the ground, then

looked up at Jordan miserably.

"You tell me this is what you want and then you tell me it's too late?" Jordan said,

bewildered. Jared closed his eyes. Jordan saw the blue veins tracing over his eyelids,
suddenly realizing again how tired Jared looked. He shook his arm. "Don't do this. Tell

me what's bothering you. Or is it someone?"

"I'm a fuck up, okay, and I'm going nowhere and you need to get away from me."

"What're you talking about?" Jordan asked. "You're in college, you've got yourself

together. I'm the one with the pot habit and the barista complex, and you're right, I've

got to get my shit together. I will, Jared."

Jared's eyes flew open. "Okay, yeah, I think you need to get your shit together, I

want you to, you're so damned smart you could do anything. But not for me, for
yourself. Things are going to change. You need to get away from me. This, today," he

gestured, then shrugged. "I was, whatever. Lonely. Should have told you not to come at
all, but Jordy … I …. " He grasped Jordan's thighs and looked at him pleadingly. "How

am I supposed to do this?"

Jordan stared down at Jared, taking in his kiss-swollen mouth, his pale, beseeching

eyes. Something Jordan had been so afraid to look at had gotten out from inside him
last night, something he didn't know what to do with, and today he'd told himself it was

going to be okay. But now, fuck, now … it sounded like Jared didn't want it. Or thought
he couldn't have it. He had no idea what he was supposed to do, because he had no idea

what was wrong.

He couldn't make sense of it. Jared was the one who'd turned himself around, went

after what he wanted, and Jordan was the one swinging in the breeze, not the other way
around. He reached down and grabbed Jared's hands, trying not to panic. "You're not

supposed to do anything. Quit being crazy and just tell me what you want, okay?"

Jared looked at the floor. His hair fell over his face. "I can't have it. School. The

future. You." He climbed off the floor and stood, stepped back. "I'm sorry I brought you
up here."

Jordan stood, too. He spread his hands wide. "I don't want you to be lonely. Fuck. I

want to be—why can't we have it? I want it, too."

Jared wasn't even looking at him anymore, just staring out the window.
"I'm right here," Jordan pleaded, stepping closer. The knot in his stomach grew

bigger by the second.

Jared still wouldn't look. "I know."

That was it, then. Jordan turned away, unable to look at him anymore. "Whatever.

So you what, you want me to go now, right?" He yanked the button at the top of his

jeans together, fingers shaking. He put his shirt back on. "I'm going."

Jared watched out the window, his eyes far away. His body seemed to curl inward,

protecting himself from something. "He said part of me wants him, and I know he's
right. Does that make it my fault? Because I hate him, too, and I don't want to want

him."

Jordan stopped, turned and stared at him. "What? Who? Charlie?"

"No, not Charlie. He's a good guy."
Jordan grabbed Jared by the shoulders and shook him. "Jared. You're not making

sense. Who are you talking about?"

"Go away," Jared said softly.

"Don't say that. Please? I want to help."
Jared's eyes welled. "You can't." He nodded, as if listening to himself. "Go home."

"No." Jordan shook him again. Jared wouldn't look. "Fuck you, I'm not leaving

you."

Jared shoved Jordan, balled a fist up and hit him in the face.
Jordan stumbled back and hit the wall. It took him a minute to realize what had

happened. His nose hurt. He put a hand up and it came away bloody. He panted, staring
at Jared. Jared still wouldn't look at him.

Jordan rubbed his face, smearing tears and blood. He put his shoes back on. There

was a leaden hole in his stomach, spreading and burning. He should have let it be, kept

it casual after what happened behind the sideshow. Instead he'd tried to keep it going,
kissing Jared as soon as they were alone. Stupid, stupid, letting himself admit how much

he wanted him. Fuck. And this is what it felt like to lose him.

He left. He thought he heard Jared saying he was sorry behind him. It didn't

matter. Like Jared said, some things were just too late.

Chapter 10

URING THE DAY whoever was on the espresso machine periodically did a backflush

with water to clean it, but it was the closing shift, and Jordan used detergent. He did a
portafilter clean and purge, wiped the outside of the machine down and cleaned the drip

tray. He didn't mind the cleanup, never had. It was mindless routine, something that
didn't require talking to other people (unless he was training someone). Lately that

suited him just fine.

Ellen, Regina and Earl were closing with him tonight. Earl was the night manager,

married and with a kid on the way. Ellen was eighteen and had graduated this year, the
same as Jordan, though they'd gone to different schools. Regina was twenty, sweet as

honey, with a sly sense of humor. She adored Jordan. Her hair was long and red, her
breasts eye-poppingly huge. Jordan mostly kept his eyes off her breasts, and she seemed

to appreciate the consideration. Which didn't mean she was shy about drawing attention
to them.

Ellen counted her drawer. She was hardly ever short, and tonight was no different.

Earl filled out forms and prepared a deposit while Ellen and Regina put the chairs up on

the tables. Jordan followed behind, mopping up the tiled floor.

The girls had asked Jordan to go to a party after work, and he figured he might as

well—it was either that or go home and work some more on taking root in his room. He
was home a lot lately when he wasn't working. He slept too much and smoked more pot

than usual. Until he stopped smoking altogether.

He wasn't sure why. He thought maybe he was bored with it.

Jared wouldn't believe that one in a million years, he thought, and then stopped

himself cold. Nowadays, Jordan kept a tight lockdown upstairs concerning all things

Jared. Maybe his jaw ached too much from gritting his teeth and his shoulders felt like
blocks of wood, but on the whole, refusing to think about Jared kept him functioning.

The problem of he and Jared knowing the same people was harder to handle. They

went to a lot of the same places and the same parties, ordinarily. Keeping to himself the
way he had made it a non-issue so far. It didn't keep him from hearing that Jared had

blazed a helluva party trail lately.

He never realized how much he saw Jared on a daily basis until he didn't anymore.

Avoiding him was hard work.

Today was October 30th, and tonight was Jason Trotter's birthday party. Lots of

people would show up guaranteed, especially because Trotter's dad was supposed to
oversee the party. Originally both parents were supposed to be there, but Trotter's

grandmother had broken her leg two days ago, and his mom had gone to stay with her
for a few days. Trotter's dad was a drinker and a general all-around slacker. He'd get

falling-down drunk at the party instead of actually supervising anything. Good times.

Except for the part where Jared was probably going to be there.

He could call Charlie and ask. They'd talked a couple of times, which was another

reason Jordan knew Jared had been partying a lot lately. Charlie tried to tell him other

stuff about Jared, too, something in his voice that made Jordan feel bad about cutting
him off, but he did anyway.

He wasn't talking about Jared and he wasn't thinking about him or the big hole in

Jordan's day where Jared used to be. He just wasn't.

Jordan didn't call Charlie. He almost told the girls he had changed his mind about

the party, but he knew they'd drive him nuts about it, so he didn't. He was their favorite

person at work. All the female baristas loved him, actually.

He was a female barista magnet. He had no idea why.

The girls changed in the bathroom before they left work. Jordan shrugged on

another T-shirt. The girls emerged, Regina wearing a thin shirt as red as her hair and

tight as shit. It was hard not to stare. Ellen had put on dangly earrings and more
makeup, lining her eyes in black and making her eyes look bigger. They preened and

Jordan complimented them, getting a hug from Ellen and a kiss from Regina. Her
breasts rubbed against his chest.

It was always just that simple. Because yeah, barista magnet.
Earl locked up behind them, eying Regina the red-shirted wonder a moment longer

than he should have. He gave them a tired wave as they left.

The night air felt more like early September, which around there meant pretty

warm. It'd been unseasonably hot for days. Jordan's VW needed a wash—it was covered
in dust, pollen, and whatever else normally collected on cars, with a dollop or two of

strategically placed bird shit added as points of interest. It'd been weeks since he last
washed it. Just didn't seem important.

Jordan drove Ellen—her mom had dropped her off for her shift earlier that day—

with Regina following behind in her car. Happy to be heading for a party, Ellen didn't

complain about the bird shit or the lack of shocks in the VW the way she normally would
whenever they rode together. Besides, if any of it really bothered her she could have

ridden with Regina.

It started to rain, drops of water splatting clear patches on the dusty windshield.

Jordan shifted, grinding gears and making an irritated face. Ellen gave him a look but
said nothing, just patted his knee and turned on the radio. The girls knew Jared and he

weren't talking, but that was all they knew. Still, they'd been treating him extra nice. It
almost made him worry.

He frowned again and turned on the wipers, smearing dirt in long arcs high over

the windshield. There wasn't enough rainwater to do more, and he was out of wiper

fluid.

Trotter lived a couple of miles from Jordan and less than five from the coffee shop,

so the ride didn't take long. The neighborhood was a little rougher, the houses closer
together than where Jordan lived, but he liked it anyway. The houses were older. They

had more individuality.

He parked down the street as close to Trotter's as he could, but there were a lot of

parked cars already lining the road. He grabbed the monster bottle of vodka in a paper
sack from the back seat—something he'd persuaded Denise from work to buy for him

yesterday. The rain dropped dark spots on the bag as he and Ellen hurried down the
walk.

Jordan had known Trotter since middle school. He was a giant, over six feet of

packed muscle, not especially brainy but not dumb, generally speaking. He was,

however, a genius with cars and electronics. He worked at one of the chain-store car
garages, the same place he'd worked at on weekends during high school.

His house was at least eighty years old, the front porch running across the width of

the front. Music spilled outside and citronella candles burned on the ledges around the

porch, though this late in the season the bugs were mostly gone. People sat in the porch
swing, in the wicker chairs or stood in groups, talking and laughing.

Regina joined them at the edge of the yard, the girls standing on either side of

Jordan. He stared up at the house and tried to breathe easy. He couldn't help looking for

Jared. Ellen circled the hand clasping the neck of the vodka bottle in her own, and
Regina took his other hand. He looked down at their hands and then back and forth

between them.

Regina smiled. Her red shirt glowed, and her lip gloss glistened under the porch

light. "Not easy going out into the world again, but hey, you've got us to help make it a
little easier. Baristas reporting for duty, babe."

Jordan nodded, a little embarrassed and wondering if they knew more than he

thought. "Remind me to buy you a drink." He hefted the bottle.

"Oh, you're gonna buy me more than one," Ellen said, squeezing his hand. "Hope

they have some juice or punch to help it down, but either way it's going."

Regina laughed. "Sounds like a plan."
Hand in hand, they climbed the stairs to the porch.

There had to be over sixty people at the party. The house wasn't big enough to hold

them all comfortably, even with two stories. The rooms were tall and narrow, not suited
to large numbers of people. There were crowds in every room. Jordan hadn't seen

Trotter's dad, though Trotter himself was flying high, eyes bright and arms waving as he
roved the house, talking to people.

It was sneak your own bottle in, but Trotter's parents supplied plenty of ice, juice

and soda. The smell of pot hung sweetly in the air. A guy Jordan remembered from

chemistry last year offered him a toke on a blunt. He took it, breaking his abstinence. It
helped him ease up, loosened his shoulders a little, but he felt mostly indifferent to it. To

the booze, too. Which still didn't stop him from drinking like a man stranded in the
desert under a midday sun. He upped his intake again after he spotted Jared, backed up

in a corner by his old girlfriend, Lucy. Charlie was nowhere in sight.

Jordan took off, dragging Regina behind. Ellen had disappeared a while ago into

the crowd. He walked blindly, ending up in the dining room. Jordan tipped the bottle of

vodka and drank it straight, holding onto the table with a hand to steady himself. The

chandelier above was one of those old crystal teardrop things, ugly beyond belief. To
Jordan, most vintage things were vintage because everybody wanted to forget they ever

liked ugly shit. He bet Trotter's mom loved it, though.

The vodka took his breath, the way you'd expect something that tasted like paint

remover to do. Regina looked at him with a hand on her hip, smirking. He held the
bottle out, offering it. She took it and leaned against him while she drank, her body

warm against his. He curved a hand around her hip. She didn't stop him. It felt nice.

Regina went to the bathroom. He lost her from there. He set the paint thinner down

somewhere and lost it, too. He wandered the house, which was getting smokier and
louder as the party went on. It was also fucking hot, what with all the body heat trapped

in the house. He wiped his forehead. And it was getting harder to walk.

He stumbled upon the backdoor and opened it. The air was better outside, not so

thick and a little cooler. He took in a deep breath, let it fill his lungs, and stepped out.

The back porch was utilitarian, rectangular, about ten feet wide and four off the

ground, with old iron rails. The back light wasn't on and he didn't turn it on. He wanted
the dark. He walked to the edge of the porch, leaning out. The rain was coming down

harder.

Jared stood at the bottom of the steps in the yard. He turned and stared up at

Jordan. He was soaked, black hair plastered to his head, thin white shirt plastered to his
body. His jeans were nearly black with the rain.

Jordan jerked backward in surprise, hand coming off the rail, and nearly fell on his

ass.

"Sorry." Jared raked his hair back with both hands, slow and unsure. Water

dripped off his chin. A streetlight down at the end of the yard backlit him, made it

difficult for Jordan to see much more.

Jordan wheeled around to face the door, the alcohol and the wild pounding of his

heart making him queasy.

"It's okay, I'm going," Jared said from behind him. His voice sounded wooden,

wrong, not like Jared at all.

"I saw Lucy," Jordan said out of nowhere. Why the fuck say anything if all he

wanted was to escape?

"Yeah, she's around. I don't know who she came with. I just know she doesn't want

to stay with him." Jared climbed the stairs, and Jordan turned slowly to face him. He'd
lost weight. He looked horribly pale. He didn't meet Jordan's eyes.

"Where's Charlie?"
Jared shrugged. "Hadn't seen him in a few days. I think he's done with me."

Jordan reached out and gripped Jared's arm before he knew he intended to do it.

"What are you doing out here?"

"Looking for someone. He's around, I can tell. He's always around." Jared finally

looked at him, eyes all pupil, high as a kite. "Miss me?" The rain beaded and ran down

his white, empty face, down the hollows of his cheekbones.

Looking for someone. There's always someone for you, isn't there?

Everything Jordan had been holding in for weeks welled up and crashed through,

all the stuff he missed and remembered, things they'd been through or done together—

the porn stash they'd hidden under the porch and looked at over and over in sixth grade,
the time Jared's tonsils came out and Jordan had camped out in Jared's room for three

days after he'd come home, the broken nose Jared had gotten in a fight after the Weller
brothers had stolen Jordan's bike.

The strobe from the house of mirrors flashing over Jared's face, breathless with

arousal. Open-mouthed, body against his.

Pure fucking garbage, shit that didn't mean anything anymore, bleeding out all

over. It was too much to block out. Jordan's hands trembled. The more he thought stop

at them, the more they shook.

"Miss you?" he said. Jared's wrist felt unexpectedly fragile in his grip. He wanted to

break it. He squeezed tight as he could, Jared's skin cold, slick beneath his hand. "I
wouldn't waste my time."

Jared turned even whiter. "Don't say that," he said so low Jordan could barely hear.

He twisted his arm in Jordan's grasp and pulled so that his hand slid into Jordan's. He

gripped it. "I'm sorry. Please, Jordy. I'm so fucked up."

He was begging, but too late. Anyway this was a nightmare. Sometimes you couldn't

stop in nightmares. Jordan leaned close and spoke in Jared's ear. "Whose fault is that?
You sent me away. My best friend kicked me out and didn't look back, and now you want

to know if I miss you?"

Jared's eyes were still black, enormous, but they weren't empty anymore.

Jordan's lips brushed his ear. "Ask me something else. Like, do I hate you? Do I

wish I'd never met you?" He pulled away and shrugged. It felt like glass grinding in his

shoulder sockets. He couldn't stop. "You got it in one."

Jared folded onto the top stair. "Jesus," he choked out. He bent over as if his

stomach hurt.

Jordan's fists clenched, watching. He'd done that, made Jared curl around himself

like a wounded animal. His head cleared, and the anger dropped away. He felt sick and
ashamed. He sank down onto the step beside Jared. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, you

know I didn't—" he grasped Jared's face in his hands and turned him toward him.
"You're so messed up, you gotta stop doing this to yourself, fuck, to me—"

Jared's face shone white in the darkness. "I miss you every single day."
Something in Jordan's chest clenched. He kissed Jared, and it was just like in the

mirror maze, terrifying, helpless to stop what he felt. But it was okay because Jared
kissed him back. His skin felt so cold, and he pushed his body into Jordan's as if asking

to be touched.

"It doesn't matter what I do," Jared said against Jordan's mouth between kisses.

"He keeps coming. Please, you can't hate me, Jordy. I can't help it. I can't let him hurt
you."

Jordan kissed him until his vision spun, desperate with how much he'd missed him.

It shouldn't be possible, missing someone this much. He held Jared's face between his

palms, trying to warm him. "I didn't mean it, I never meant it," he said, over and over,
breathing it into him, until finally he felt Jared nod. Jared's eyes were closed, lashes

black against his skin.

Jared's body stiffened. He pushed Jordan away from him, looking out through the

rain, and Jordan wondered how he knew, because someone was coming. Crossing the
yard, tall, with dark hair and dark clothes. His eyes burned pale like an animal's, but

knowing. There was intelligence there, and something unnatural.

Jared looked up at whoever was approaching and laughed. It made the hair on

Jordan's body rise. Jared walked down the stairs into the yard, water dripping off his
clothes, his hair. His shirt was translucent, clinging to his skin. His fingers twisted into

the wet back pocket of his jeans, searching. A pocket knife. He held it up. "I knew you'd

be here, Levi. You're always here."

Jordan started down the stairs as Levi stopped in front of Jared, smiling and

gesturing at the knife. "What's that? You're not threatening me with it, are you? It's a

little ridiculous."

Jared flipped the knife open. It was black, a wicked curve to the blade. He sliced his

wrist open. Blood welled, nearly black in the light. "Come and get it, fucker."

"No!" Jordan yelled. One minute he was rushing to Jared and then Levi raised a

hand, grabbing his arm, and next he was sprawled out on the ground. Jared didn't look
at either of them. He blinked rain out of his eyes and pulled the knife up with shaky

fingers, starting again at the top of his wrist.

Levi put his hand over Jared's. He pulled the pocket knife gently away as if he had

all the time in the world. He threw it out into the darkness and clamped a hand around
Jared's arm. Blood burbled out of the wound, mixed with rain and spilled to the ground.

"This is what I am. It's what I'm meant to be. I can't change it for you." Levi brought

Jared's wrist to his mouth. His lips parted.

Jordan shouted Jared's name, got up and ran to him again, but he blinked and Levi

was there, close enough to touch. He smiled, Jared's blood on his teeth.

Jordan punched him with everything he had. "Leave him alone!"
Levi rocked back on his heels. He didn't look at Jordan, as if he were beneath

notice. He wiped his mouth and looked at Jared. "This is what happens when you try
and convince me otherwise."

He tossed Jordan aside. Jordan's head hit the ground hard. A ringing sound burst

loudly through his ears. He tried to get up but he couldn't catch his breath.

Levi crouched over him, looked him in the eyes. Then everything faded away.

Jordan awakened in his car, soaking wet and crumpled against the steering wheel.

The street sparkled white and wet under the street lights. He heard someone say his

name. Again, louder. He opened his eyes, confused.

The VW's driver side window was broken, shards of glass sticking out of the track.

Regina reached through, her hand on his shoulder, shaking him. She was wet, her shirt
clinging like a second skin, nipples stiff in the night air. Her eyes were huge, and she was

breathing hard.

He remembered Jared on the porch beside him in the rain. How stoned he was,

eyes wide and vague. He remembered Jared's face when he said those things to hurt
him.

Jordan opened the car door in a rush, pushing Regina out of the way. He vomited,

hearing Regina make a dismayed, sickish noise of her own. His head throbbed. He

wiped his mouth and pulled his feet back inside, leaning against the steering wheel.
Regina pulled a package of tissues from her purse and handed them to him through the

broken window. He curled forward with the package in his hand, his forehead against
the steering wheel. Fuck, his fucking head hurt, the back of it throbbing like he'd been

hit or something. He touched it. There was a lump there. It stung.

Slowly he leaned across the seat and unlocked the passenger side door. Regina got

in, her shoes making wet noises against the floorboard.

"Where is Jared?" he said to the steering wheel. His fingers curled around it, white.

His tongue felt thick, and his head, God. It wouldn't stop.

"They took him to the hospital." Regina's voice wobbled.

Jordan sat up fast, feeling his stomach rise again. "What—" He swallowed, tried

again. "What happened?"

She stared at him. There were goose pimples on her arms. "You saw him, right? He

was high as hell. Everybody said he was acting crazy. Didn't you talk to him?"

"Yeah. He didn't look so good, but—he was confused. Or I am. I don't remember."
She gave him a second, closer look, then drew in a deep breath. "Shit, Jordan. He

hurt himself. Out back. Somebody found him."

It was like at the movies, or on TV—her face seemed to rush forward while

everything around her fell away. "What the fuck are you talking about?" he said, his
voice growing louder. "How?"

"He cut himself."
"He wouldn't do that." He clutched her arm. "He wouldn't. I was out there with

him. We were talking—"

Regina looked down at her arm, but she didn't try to pull away. "What did you say

to him?" she asked, her voice soft and careful.

Jordan looked away. "Something bad. But we made up. I thought it was okay. Then

… I don't know what happened."

He dropped her arm, and she covered his hand on the seat with hers, squeezing it

gently. "You know they're gonna send him to Ridgewood. They send anyone who tries to
—"

"He wouldn't do that!" Jordan yelled.
She looked at him unhappily. "I'm sorry."

He nodded and looked away. "I've got to go, Reg."
"I know." Regina squeezed his hand one last time, then let go. "You go on. I'll give

Ellen a ride home."

A little before dawn, after spending spent most of the night at the hospital and

waiting for word on Jared, Jordan drove across the street. He was damp and dirty and

smelled faintly of puke, sweat and weed. His eyes were threaded through with red. He
parked at Ridgewood Psychiatric Hospital's parking lot. The hospital was a one-story

building of orange brick sprawling out over a big grass lot.

He sat in the car and pulled out his phone. There were thirteen missed calls. Five

from his parents, and the rest mostly people he figured wanted to know what had
happened at the party. He didn't call anyone back. He locked the car, though his window

was broken, and walked to the glass double doors. He rang the door buzzer, waiting
patiently. His heart pounded, slow and swelling, thunder rolling beneath his skin.

He told the faceless voice that answered that he'd spent most of yesterday high. And

the day before, and the day before. No, he didn't need the hospital. He wasn't high,

though he thought he would be before long if they didn't let him in. He just needed help.
He needed to quit.

He waited. Less than five minutes later, a nurse and two short-haired, muscular

aides in matching shirts opened the door and led him inside.

Chapter 11

THE EMERGENCY room, Jared was intubated and his stomach pumped. He woke

up gagging around something in his throat. He was on his side. His head floated dizzily.

He thought somebody was holding onto his arm, but he wasn't sure—just that there was
pressure against the wrist he'd cut. He faded out, and when he was conscious next, the

pressure was gone. He was stitched and bandaged.

He heard a discussion somewhere over his head. His CBC panel showed signs of

anemia, but his blood cells looked healthy—not the norm for someone with an iron
deficiency. A test was ordered to check for blood in the stool, but when his body finally

cooperated enough to get a sample, it came back normal.

In the morning a doctor came and stood over him, talking at him. He

recommended more tests, an internal medicine specialist and a colonoscopy. Jared
didn't say anything. He couldn't keep his eyes open.

The next time he woke up, a worn, red-eyed woman who could have been anywhere

from forty to sixty sat on a rolling stool by his bed. She was very still, her hands

unmoving. She asked him if he intended to commit suicide. Jared didn't answer. He
figured he was going to die soon anyway, or worse, and no amount of talk would change

it. He didn't want to talk, period. So he didn't. Not about his family, his home life, use of
drugs, if he slept well, heard voices, wanted help or just to bang on a drum all day.

He finally spoke when someone asked if he wanted to see his parents. It was a

woman, a blonde nurse. A light shone from behind her head and all around it,

distracting him so that he almost forgot to answer. He said yes. Using his voice made his
throat feel like it'd been turned inside out and scraped over pavement.

Afterward he kept imagining the way his parents would look at him, the sorrow and

disappointment on their faces so vivid and all-encompassing in his mind that he

vomited off the side of the hospital bed. And fuck if that didn't really hurt his throat.

The nurse wore pink scrubs. Her lipstick almost matched them. She was pretty

except for the worry lines on her forehead. He guessed nursing was hard work. He
plucked at her sleeve and told her he'd changed his mind. She asked him if he was sure.

He nodded and asked her to tell his mom and dad he loved them. He felt like a coward,
but he didn't think he'd make much sense even if he did speak to them. He was pretty

sure he'd cry if he saw them.

The following day he was transferred to Ridgewood. An attendant searched him.

His parents brought clothes, underwear, socks, a toothbrush, a comb and his MP3
player. They weren't allowed to leave the MP3 player because the psychiatric hospital

didn't allow patients to have electronics or keep anything of value. They sent his jewelry
and cell phone home with them, too. They also took the laces from his high-tops. He

hadn't worn a belt or they'd have taken that, too. Then he was led down a narrow white
hallway.

They put him in a room with a guy named Richard. Richard lay curled up on his

bed, facing the wall. He acted like Jared didn't exist, which was fine. More than fine.

The room was standard institutional, shiny tiled floors and a nondescript

nightstand between the two beds. The walls were boring blue with chair rail molding in

a darker shade of blue. The mattress on the bed he was assigned caved in badly in the
middle.

Jared lay on his dipped-in bed and stared up at the ceiling, wondering how the fuck

this place was supposed to make him or anyone else want to get out of bed, unless it was

from sheer discomfort. It certainly didn't seem to be working for Richard.

Mostly he thought about Jordan.

He'd known what could happen, but he'd broken anyway when Jordan looked at

him and said those things at the party. Jared couldn't stand for Jordan to hate him, to

look at him the way he did, and because he couldn't, Jordan had gotten hurt. Levi had
thrown him to the ground and wiped himself from Jordan's memory again, and Jared

didn't even know for sure if he was all right.

Levi had fed on Jared right there in the yard afterward, in the rain. Jared felt the

ground against his back, the cold water soaking into his skin, the raindrops on his face,
and he fell into hunger and a clinging, smothering blackness. Normally there was

pleasure when Levi took his blood, but not this time. Instead there was despair. He felt
utterly insignificant. He didn't know what had changed and if it was his doing or Levi's.

Maybe both.

He wondered if the hunger and nothingness was what Levi felt like inside.

More of Jared went missing every time Levi fed, burning away quick and deadly

like a spider web that had caught fire. He couldn't remember who he was supposed to be

anymore. It felt like his brain wasn't making the right connections. Maybe it was the

physical manifestation of blood loss, or hell, maybe it was plain old fear.

Jared stared at the ceiling, and Richard stared at the wall. When Richard finally

spoke, Jared still didn't feel like talking so he ignored him. He went to sleep.

Late in the afternoon a caseworker named Roger knocked on the door. Jared was

alone in the room, but before he could get up Roger came on in. Not like Jared could

lock anyone out—there were locks on the outside, not inside.

Roger wore thick glasses and his skin was pockmarked. He wanted Jared to get out

of bed and follow him down the hall, but Jared's head was still roaring black thickness
from another dream of Levi. At first he couldn't hear Roger, like the reception in his

brain was bad. When he did manage to tune him in, he realized Roger was asking
questions—variation of the same thing the doctor at the community hospital had asked

during the psych consult.

Roger called the shrink in. He was the on-call doctor and already on the premises

for another case. His name was Dr. Grover, which sounded ridiculous and made Jared
think of Muppets. He arrived in minutes, and he looked annoyed. He was tall, had red

hair and a mustache, and he wore a tie. His belly pushed tightly against his white shirt.

Jared asked them if Jordan was okay, and both of them fell silent.

Roger finally said, looking blank, "The new patient?" Dr. Grover gave Roger a look

that said he was an idiot.

"Jordan's here?" Jared asked, but he didn't really believe it. It was getting harder to

concentrate when they kept looking at him that way, as if they expected him to say or do

something specific. Like he was a pony about to perform a trick.

He was confused and tired, and his mind did an interesting slippage thing where he

forgot what they were talking about. He hung his head so that his hair fell over his face
and he didn't have to look at them. He decided he wasn't going to call Dr. Grover by his

stupid Muppet name.

Dr. Shrink said he wanted Jared on a high calorie diet. He put Jared on

antidepressants and something to calm his anxiety. He asked Jared if he'd take his meds
without a fuss. Jared only nodded, because his throat hurt like the queen of all bitches

from talking just that little bit.

Dr. Shrink asked why he felt so anxious, which Jared thought was a spectacularly

stupid question considering where he was. Although he didn't feel anxious. Stunted or

something, slow, maybe with some pieces missing, but not anxious.

"Why do you think I'm nervous, Dr. Shrink?" Jared asked. It occurred to him that

he'd asked a shrink a question a shrink might ask. Any other time he'd have laughed

about it, but he didn't have the energy.

The doctor didn't answer, just looked pointedly at Jared's leg, foot jittering against

the floor. He asked Jared if he heard voices, if he saw things. Had he ever tried to kill
himself before? Was he suicidal now?

Seemed a lot of people liked to ask the same things at these places.
Roger stood behind the doctor and shook his head sadly when Jared said he hadn't

tried to kill himself at all. Jared didn't know why he'd bothered answering. He knew they
wouldn't believe him.

Roger annoyed him, hanging onto the shrink's every word. Ass kisser. Jared gritted

his teeth. He had the feeling he and Roger weren't going to get along.

Dr. Shrink said they'd have to keep a close eye on him if he couldn't admit to what

he'd done. Jared told him to break a leg. He was pretty sure that keeping a 'close eye' on

him meant he wasn't going to be allowed much in the way of freedom. Like he cared.

At 4:00

he left his room and headed down the hall to the dayroom. The nurses

station overlooked it. He lined up for his meds with the others at the nurses station,
waiting like a good little patient. He kept his head down and stared at the ground, then

stared at the pills when they gave them to him. He remembered his friend Stiles had
spent some time on an antidepressant during junior year. He thought one of the pills in

the cup was the same thing. They hadn't worked well for Stiles—he'd ended up in this
same hospital with reoccurring visits since. Great stuff.

Jared threw the pills back and swallowed them with water while a nurse watched

him carefully.

Dinnertime came after meds. The dining room was down the hall from the

dayroom. The smell of cafeteria food combined with cleanser hung in the air. The place

reminded him of school. Jared took shallow breaths to try and minimize it, but the smell
permeated everything. His stomach had been unsettled lately and this wasn't helping his

appetite. Before long, though, something they'd given him kicked his ass—in a good way
—and he was able to ignore it.

Then Jordan swung a foot over the chair across from him and put his tray down on

the laminated table. Jared stared at him, mouth open. Jordan looked pleased with

himself.

There was a purple bruise on his cheek, and he was too pale. Jared was immediately

terrified that Levi had taken some of his blood. Maybe Levi had done something to put
Jordan in here, too. Jared couldn't make himself speak, but he must have made some

sound.

"Shh," Jordan said, low. "I haven't told them I know you. I don't think they'd like it

if they knew." He picked up his plastic fork and stirred a few peas in with his mashed
potatoes. "Jesus, look at this shit." He looked at Jared's food and then his own. "Your

stuff looks better than mine."

"Did he get to you?" Jared demanded in a harsh whisper. He reached across the

table and grabbed Jordan's wrist.

"Let go of me before they notice, okay?" Jordan said, meeting his eyes. Jared

dropped his arm. Jordan ate a forkful of peas and potatoes and grimaced. "Just like
fucking school lunch. Who are you talking about? You okay?"

Jared rubbed his forehead and talked down at his tray. He felt weird. Fucking

meds. "I came here for a nice relaxing vacation. Did Levi—did he—" Double fuck. He

hadn't meant to say his name.

"Levi?"

"Did he do something to you?" He couldn't stop himself. Also, his bones were

melting. What the shit had they given him? He couldn't control his mouth. Not that he'd

done much better before—he felt like he'd been unraveling for ages.

"Who the fuck is Levi? You talked about somebody else that time we argued in your

room. Is this the same guy?"

Jared didn't even begin to know how to answer. "Where'd you get the bruise?"

"Eat, would you? You're too damn skinny. I don't know. But my head hurts. I must

have hit it somehow. I was too drunk last night, shit."

"What the fuck are you doing here? He's going to find out."
"Jared, I'm here because of you. Because … fuck, did I make you do this?"

Jared stared at the plate. "What do you remember about last night?" He glanced up.

He couldn't meet Jordan's eyes for long, but he saw him grow paler.

"I remember being an asshole extraordinaire. I remember we made up. I thought it

was okay. I thought you were. Then I found out you'd—Jared, you can't, damn—why?"

Jared clenched his fork, felt it give beneath his fingers. "You think I'd kill myself

over you? Yeah, only not. That's a real high opinion you've got of yourself, though." The

chicken on his plate looked sickly pale, not much darker than Jordan's potatoes. His
stomach churned.

"It wasn't me, then," Jordan said slowly. "So why? Why did you do it?"
"Told you before. You need to get away from me. Not something you can fix."

"Look at me." Jordan waited, his mouth set. "I said no. I'm saying no. Whatever

stupid, misguided, gigantically fucked-up, idiotic idea you've got running around in your

sloggy-ass drug-addled brain is wrong. I'm not better off without you. You can't chase
me off again."

"You don't know," Jared said, then bit his tongue. He tasted blood. He pressed

harder on the fork and heard it crack.

"Hey, let go of the poor fork. I don't know what?"
"Levi's going to kill you if you don't get away."

"Nobody would bother to kill me. I'm harmless."
"There's only so many times he'll wipe your memory."

"Someone's wiping my memory," Jordan said slowly. "Uh, how's he doing that?"
"Look him in the eyes and he can make you do anything." Jared picked up his

plastic knife and ground it into the chicken. It began to flatten and tear. "This shit is
disgusting. My parent's insurance money pays them enough that they don't need to feed

me this shit, I know it."

"Eat your veggies, then."

Jared looked at him sharply. "Eat your veggies? Really?"
"Whatever it takes," Jordan said softly. "I don't care about wizards who can

entrance a person by looking them in the eye—"

"Fuck you so very much, moron. There are no wizards."

"—they can't make me forget or leave you or go away, okay? And I'm glad to hear

it."

Jared shook his head. "Don't fuck with me, Jordy," he said, staring down at his

plate. Jordan must have forgotten what he said earlier about touching, because he

grabbed Jared's arm, the bandaged one. He rubbed the skin below the bandage

soothingly.

"I'm not, I swear. I had to see you. I don't want you to hurt yourself again, okay? I

don't know what's going on but you've been through enough shit to last a lifetime. And I

want to know who this Levi is. You're hiding stuff from me because of him. He's fucking
you up." Jordan realized what he was doing and pulled his hand away. He looked

around the room to see if anyone had noticed, then looked back at Jared expectantly.
Jared stared back at him, frozen.

Jordan sighed. "Okay, then. Later." He looked around, then stuffed mouthfuls of

the slop they called dinner in his mouth. He grinned when Jared grimaced, then

grabbed his tray and heaved himself off the chair.

Jared watched him head off for the dayroom. He shoved his tray aside, sagging

back into his chair. He had no idea what to do next or how to keep Jordan safe.

Chapter 12

E KNEW JORDAN had expected him to follow him last night after dinner, but he was

tired and he needed to think. Or try to, anyway. He went to his room right after they ate.
He even beat Richard to the room.

Things had changed since Jared had punched Jordan that day in his bedroom. It

seemed like a long time ago, but then everything was starting to blur together. Levi had

gotten more demanding since then, less human and more frightening. Maybe Levi was
waiting for Jared to give in to what he wanted, but as long as Levi didn't force him, it

wasn't happening. But he knew Levi was growing impatient.

Jared had seen what Levi did to Jordan at Trotter's party. He knew Jordan could

have been hurt much worse. Levi could have easily killed him. Jared figured it for a
warning. Levi had promised not to hurt his friends, but the bets were off if Levi

considered Jordan a nuisance. He couldn't let Jordan attract Levi's notice again, no
matter what.

Jared fell asleep just as Richard came into their room.

The next morning Jared stood in line for breakfast at 8:00

, barely awake. He

really wanted some coffee, real coffee, but patients weren't allowed caffeine.

Some of the patients were in their own world, or too sick or just plain didn't give a

shit, but there had been chatter at dinner last night. Not so much at breakfast. It was

almost silent. Jared sat down and eyed his eggs and bacon like an alien had landed on
his plate. He didn't normally eat early, but meds were at eight-thirty and he thought he'd

better eat before they pilled him again. Now he knew what Malvoline felt like.

The girl he'd sat beside had blonde hair and cornflower blue eyes. She was

overweight. She sat as if she'd been deposited in her seat like a sack of groceries and
forgotten, listing slightly to one side.

He grabbed his juice and sucked it down in one long gulp. Better. The girl looked at

him, scowling. Maybe he'd slurped or something. He bit off a piece of bacon and

chewed, watching her. Her eyes were soft and pretty. She blew an annoyed breath from
her nose.

He tried not to look for Jordan, but of course Jordan found him anyway. He

plunked down beside Jared, but because there were other people around Jordan didn't

say anything after hi, just dug in. Jordan didn't have a problem eating early in the
morning. Or at any time. He ate like he didn't know when the next meal was coming.

Jared curled his lip, watching. Jordan saw and smirked.

After meds they had the option to exercise or watch TV. Jared waved Jordan off

and plunked himself down in the dayroom to watch whatever was on the TV, bolted high
up on the wall.

Somebody had terrible taste in TV shows. The people on it were arguing loudly. Not

a talk show, then—more like an inbred fist fight. One of the guests had apparently stolen

the other's spouse, who also happened to be their first cousin or some such shit. It was
almost weird enough to interest him. Not quite. He tucked his chin down and dozed

until someone coughed, long and loud, and woke him.

He blinked, looking around the room. He hadn't paid any attention to it before

now. A long cabinet ran along a plain white wall on one side, and the opposite wall was
full of artwork done by the patients. Some of it was good and most of it sucked. The

couch sat in the middle of the room, striped blue and tan, with eight blue chairs

scattered all around.

Richard sat folded up in a corner of the couch like someone had propped him there,

staring at the TV, or at least in the direction of it. Come to think of it, Jared hadn't seen

Richard move except for when someone told him to do something, go somewhere. Talk
about being out of it. Maybe Jared should have talked to Richard yesterday when he'd

spoken, since the guy had made the effort.

The girl from breakfast moved from another chair to one next to Jared. She had a

magazine in hand and flipped the edges idly. Pale scars ran in delicate ridges down both
of her wrists. She caught him looking and glared. Jared smiled, and she looked a little

nonplused.

"What's your name?" he asked, feeling stupid.

For a minute he thought she wouldn't answer. "Terry." She coughed, then looked at

him more closely. "I think I woke you. This place has dust mites. I'm allergic. Did you

just arrive here?"

Arrive. It sounded like he'd answered an invitation or something. "Yesterday. Every

place has dust mites."

Terry frowned. "Have you ever been in here before?"

"No. You?"
She shrugged and tucked blonde hair behind her ear. "A couple of times. It's not a

bad place."

"So you like it here?"

Terry thought a moment. "It's not that I like it, exactly. It feels safe. It's quiet, too.

It's boring, mostly, unless somebody acts up."

Jared stretched. His elbow popped. "That happen often?"
Terry shrugged again. "Occasionally. But there's always someone close-by to help.

The aides move fast. I think some of them like it when there's trouble. It's exciting to
them." She flipped the pages of the magazine faster, unconscious of it. "I suppose you're

not allowed outside yet?" She glanced at his wrist.

"I don't think so."

"All right. Maybe I'll see you later." Terry stood, placing the magazine on the table

by the chair.

"Sure. Pet a butterfly for me or something."

Terry smiled at him. Her eyes really were beautiful.

He shut his eyes again, still seeing that soft blue color behind his lids, and thought

about what she'd said. He wondered how safe 'safe' really might be in the hospital.

Patients had to be in their room by 9:00

, with lights out half an hour later. Jared

had spent the day in a therapy group (during which he'd stayed silent, though he'd been
prodded to speak), ate lunch and dinner, watched the other patients play cards, watched

more TV, slept through art and recreation hour, took more meds (of course) and had a
five-minute appointment with his Majesty, Dr. Shrink. It consisted of three questions:

how was his mood, were there any changes, were there any concerns.

Jared floated through all of it except when Jordan was nearby. They said very little

to each other. There were always people around. Jared thought Jordan was getting a
little agitated about that.

Once in his room he made sure to say goodnight to Richard. He wasn't really

surprised when he didn't get an answer. He lay on his bed feeling the mattress deform

his backbone, falling asleep within minutes after the room went dark.

Sometime after midnight, a sliver of light from the hall opened over the floor,

growing wider and then collapsing as the door closed again. It took Jared a minute after
that before he could make out Jordan standing over him. He wasn't surprised to see

him; in fact he'd figured Jordan would try to see him. He had balls of steel when he was
motivated.

"Knew you were coming," Jared whispered sleepily. He looked over at Richard's

bed. He didn't think he was awake.

Jordan leaned over and kissed him. His lips were soft and warm. He sat on the side

of Jared's bed and grabbed one of his hands. It was cold and he rubbed it. "It's the only

way we can talk. Especially when you're not making much of an effort." Jordan didn't
waste words when sufficiently motivated, either.

Jared rubbed his eyes. "Not doing anything, Jordy. Just, you know. Trying to get

better. You're crazy for coming in here after me."

"Whatever. I'm amazing is what I am," Jordan whispered.
"Always," Jared whispered back. Richard rolled over with a groan. Both of them

were quiet, waiting to see if he'd awaken.

"So how're you doing?"

Jared smiled a little. "Fine, and how are you? Really, Jordy?"
Jordan sighed. "Fucking troublemaker." He stopped rubbing Jared's hand, gripping

it instead. "Let me ask you something—do you remember something weird happening at
the fair?"

Jared tensed, trying not to let it show. He didn't answer.
"Something about you and me and Charlie behind the sideshow. Was there anyone

else there?"

"The three of us wasn't enough for you?" Jared tried to sound casual, but his heart

was racing.

"You said you thought you'd seen someone you knew. You looked upset about it, I

remember. So who was it?"

"I thought I was the one that's fucked up, but maybe you should be in here with

me."

"That's not gonna work. I'm onto you." Jordan rubbed over his cheekbone with one

hand. He kissed him again, longer this time.

Jared relaxed and let himself feel it—Jordan's breath against his skin, the way he

slanted his mouth to fit, the taste of him. He wanted to remember.

Finally Jordan pulled away. In the dimness, his eyes looked soft, unguarded.

"Somebody told me you'd quit smoking dope while we weren't talking," Jared said.
Jordan shrugged. "Yeah, mostly."

"Why?"
Jordan shook his head. "Answer me first."

Fuck. "I saw someone, yeah."
"Levi." It wasn't a question. "And he's what to you?"

"He's nothing. I hate him," Jared said, then bit his lip. He'd spoken way too loudly.
"A supplier? Boyfriend, what?"

"You act like I have this big secret life. No you big stupid fuck, he's not a boyfriend.

You'd know."

"He is a secret, and he has been for awhile now." Jordan's voice was quiet and

intense, his brow furrowed. "And now you're so fucked up you're here."

"Tell me about what made you stop lighting up."

"I smoked more at first after that stupid scene between us. Not less. But we'd talked

about me getting my shit together, and I knew I had to, sooner or later." He shrugged,
looking pained. "Plus I figured if you ever changed your mind about us, I'd be … shit, I

don't know how you get me to say this stuff."

"It's easy," Jared said softly. "Always been easy with you. So you're telling me you

don't need this place."

"I didn't come in here because I need this place. I need you."

Jared squeezed his hand. "So you can go home."
"Not without you."

"Yeah, without me. I'm a mess, Jordan, you know that. This is the most I've talked

in a month. It's hard to think. All I want to do is sleep, and I know, shit, that's not

making you feel better, but I need … I'm fucked up. Maybe they can help me here."

"Who is Levi, Jared?"

"He's a bad guy, okay. I got mixed up with him."
Jordan looked down, struggling to get his expression under control. "No big secret

life, huh?" He let go of Jared's hand. "So he's still around. He's got some kind of hold on
you?"

"It's not finished, but I'm trying to take care of it."
"Where's he live?" Jordan said abruptly.

Jared stared at him. "What the shit is this? I'm not your girlfriend, Jordy. It's not

your fight."

"Why not?"
Jared sighed tiredly. "You sound like a kid. It's just not."

"I meant why aren't you my girlfriend."
Jared didn't smile.

"You want me to go." Jordan licked his lips and looked away. "Man, this feels

familiar in a really shitty way. But you have to answer a question first, okay?"

"Answer what? I'm tired. I want to sleep."
Jordan looked miserable. "Did what I say to you help put you in here?"

Jared looked up at Jordan, wondering if he'd leave the hospital like he'd asked. He

was afraid of the answer. Jordan was incredibly stubborn. But he shouldn't blame

himself for any of Jared's shit.

He couldn't let Levi get near him again.

Jared kept his expression calm with an effort. "Nobody makes anybody else do

anything. It was just an argument."

"It was a hundred times worse than when you hit me. You were a fucked-up mess at

the party and I knew it. I helped send you here, right?"

"No, you didn't. I'm responsible." It was true, but Jared felt sick. He knew how to

play this—all he had to do was speak in a low-keyed, careful tone. Jordan would figure

Jared was protecting him against the knowledge that his actions had pushed Jared to
lose it.

God, he couldn't play these fucking mind games with Jordan, he couldn't.
Except he had to.

Jordan looked down at his hand, lying on the blanket as if he didn't know what to

do with it after letting go of Jared. "Promise you'll try and get better so you can come

home." Jordan's voice was rasping, uneven. He grabbed Jared's hand again and held it
between both of his. He pressed his forehead to them. His voice was muffled. "Promise

me you won't die."

"No worries, I'll come home. Of course I will."

Jordan laughed, more of a strangled hiccup than anything. He squeezed Jared's

hand hard.

He knew what Jordan wanted. Jared sighed. "Look, everybody dies sooner or later.

You're pre-menstrual again, aren't you?"

Jordan's curly head moved. He bit Jared's finger.
"Ow, you're always biting. I won't die, okay? Not ever. Earth will be destroyed, suns

will explode and still I will survive."

"I don't believe you, but still. Better." Jordan sighed, still sounding muffled. He

exhaled against their hands, then raised his head. "I think the hospital's going to throw
me out, anyway. You'd think I could fake being an addict, since it's something I pretty

much am."

"Were. Maybe. But I don't think so." Jared watched Jordan's face. He'd always liked

Jordan's brown eyes. They were warm, nearly amber at times, always expressive. And
maybe Jared was the sensitive, pre-menstrual one. "I want you to understand one other

thing, okay? And I know you don't get how important this is. I know you won't like it. I

need space."

"We'll see."
"You can't say we'll see. I'm telling you I need it."

Jordan took a deep breath. "I love you. You love me."
It wasn't an easy thing for Jordan to say. He was never comfortable talking about

the things he felt deeply about. But it couldn't matter now.

"That's right. But you can't change me, you can't make me better. These are my

problems. I'll call you when I get home if I can get my shit together. Otherwise you don't
need to be around me." Jared reached for Jordan's hand again. "You know that. You've

got to figure out what you want for yourself, okay? It's time. Don't think about me."

"You say the stupidest shit. And not if," Jordan said. "When."

"You gotta go before you get caught." Jared was getting good at saying the opposite

of what he wanted.

"I know. I just don't want to leave you alone."
"Maybe … maybe I'm safe here."

Jordan studied him. "You better be."
Jordan got up to leave, and Jared kissed him again. He tried not to make it feel like

goodbye.

The next morning he got up and stood in line for breakfast. He ate all of it and

tasted none of it. He hung out with Jordan, not saying much, and he spent time with
Terry. He spoke a sentence or two during group therapy. He even got Richard to

respond to him after lunch. Jared was good with people, normally. He liked them, and
they sensed that.

Jordan's parents came after him in the early evening. After they left, Jared stared at

the doorway leading out to the entry for a long time. Then he went to his room and lay

down. He'd gotten what he wanted.

Chapter 13

ISITING HOURS WERE at one and again at seven. His parents came at seven after

Jordan left. He refused to see them, though his throat felt tight and his eyes hot,

thinking of them being turned away. He knew it hurt, but he just couldn't bear to see
them. Not now.

He'd had dinner and meds just before Jordan's parents arrived. Jared didn't say

goodbye, didn't even look at him. After he was gone, Jared went to his room and lay on

his bed staring at the ceiling.

Terry had said the hospital was safe. Jared figured Levi might be able to get in if he

wanted to badly enough, though he wasn't sure how. Levi was strong and he could
influence people with his mind, but Jared didn't think he could turn into fog and slip in

under the doors. That was just movie stuff. The bigger issue, he figured, was all the
people in the hospital. Levi had said he had to prove himself to the other vampires, and

creating a stir in a psychiatric hospital didn't sound like a good way to do it. Maybe as
long as Jared was here, he was safe.

The thing that sucked was that if he wasn't, no one in the hospital was.
He missed Jordan already. He was the only person he wanted to talk to at this

point, almost forcing Jared to engage just by the fact of his presence. It took a lot of
energy, but Jared didn't care. The more he thought of Jordan, the more desperately he

missed him. He thought he'd understood he had to be alone in this, but then Jordan had
talked to him again, kissed him and touched him. It had torn everything open.

Richard came in at seven-thirty, giving him a curious look. Jared waved at him

listlessly. Richard surprised him with a crook of the lips that was an almost-smile. He

stopped at the foot of Jared's bed and reached out, grasping the frame.

"Are you okay?" Richard said, so low and soft that Jared almost missed it.

Jared looked at him. "No."
Richard nodded as if it was what he had expected.

"Are you?"
Richard shook his head. His hair was black and thick, curlier than Jordan's. He

went to his bed.

"Didn't think so," Jared said.

He turned over and stared at the wall. Blue was supposed to soothe. Jared didn't

feel soothed. It looked almost the identical shade of blue Silly Putty: grayish, depressing,

and yeah, lending itself to suicidal tendencies if someone had to stare at it long enough.

He'd tried out different ways to destroy Silly Putty when he was little. With Jordan,

of course. It burned slow, but burn it did. Microwaving didn't do much to it, but cooking
it in the oven made it stink like hell.

The ward was too cold. It was always cold, just like Jared was always cold. Lately,

anyway. He pulled the sheet and blanket tightly around him, concentrating on breathing

slow and even.

After Richard fell asleep, Jared turned over to watch the door. He kept watching

even after lights out. Especially after lights out. He pictured the hallway, the fluorescents
bright in the ceiling. If Levi came after him, he'd have to walk through the bright light.

There'd be people around.

He felt as if he were strung together out of rocks and wire. There was no give in his

body. He couldn't relax, even with the meds. They weren't doing anything but making it
hard to think. Levi was coming after him. He was sure of it. He had no idea how he

knew.

Someone in a room down the hall started crying. He sat up, gripping the edge of his

bed. He heard footsteps in the hall. Someone speaking. Richard didn't stir. As far as
Jared had seen, Richard slept like the dead.

The ward went quiet again. He pictured the hall again, the bright white lights. He

imagined Levi opening doors along the hall, looking for him. Would he hurt anyone

else? How would he find him? Would he just know somehow?

Jared hadn't been surprised when Jordy showed up in his room the night before.

Even though he'd hoped Terry was right and it was safe, when midnight rolled around
and the door to his room swung open again, he wasn't surprised. Scared to fuck, yes. His

heart shot up in his chest like it was going for a basketball goal before settling back to
bump around in the cage.

Levi looked taller. Maybe that was only because Jared felt more and more like

nothing. Nothing he did or wanted mattered. It made everything else tend to look bigger

and more intimidating. Going to classes had felt like climbing a mountain during the
weeks before Halloween, but he'd kept going even when he was red-eyed and hung over.

He couldn't let go of all the things he'd hoped for yet.

Levi's pale eyes almost glowed in the dim light. They were beautiful but alien. More

and more unfeeling. Maybe that's what vampires did when they came into their own.
Stopped remembering to care about the things they'd cared about as humans.

If he called for help, it'd wake Richard. Richard would open his eyes and see a pale

stranger standing over his roommate. No telling what he'd do. Jared didn't know what

was wrong with Richard, but he knew he was plenty hurt. He didn't want to make it
worse. An attendant or maybe a nurse would come hurrying down the hall in her

whispery shoes to see what Jared was yelling about. An aide might come with her. What
would they do if they saw someone standing over his bed? What could they do?

"What would you do if I yelled for help?" Jared whispered. The words felt slurred,

coming through stiff, dry lips. He licked his mouth.

Levi sat down on the side of the bed. His long white fingers spread over the sheet.

"I'd leave. They wouldn't know I'd been here. It'd be harder on you next time I came

back. I can't let you do things like that."

Jared nodded. His heart bounced around in his rib cage. He knew Levi could hear

it. "How'd you get in?"

Levi tapped beneath his eye. "I rang the buzzer and I told them what I needed. I

told everyone who saw me what I needed. They nodded and moved aside, like sheep.
Then they forgot me. No one remembers I'm here."

"How'd you find my room?"
"I can always find you. I have your blood inside me."

Jared closed his eyes and swallowed, trying not to hyperventilate. "Remember

when you said you wanted to be what I want? Did you ever believe that?"

Levi's hand wrapped around the bandage on Jared's wrist. "I told you before. I

wouldn't be here if part of you didn't want me."

"That's a lie."
Levi plucked at the cover over Jared's chest. "How is it a lie?"

Jared shivered, opening his eyes. He didn't pull the cover back up. It wasn't any

use. "I didn't want you last time. Even if you make me beg, if you make me come. I don't

want you anymore." He said it quickly, panting between each sentence. His head
pounded like something wanted out. He wanted out. The pain was far off, like his head

was floating, but his body thrummed with it.

"Try and calm down. You don't know what I've done for you. Because of what you

wanted. You don't even suspect, do you?" Levi put a hand on his chest. It felt cool, but
not cold.

Jared flinched. "Don't touch me."
Levi looked exasperated. "That's part of drinking your blood."

"When did you change?" Jared looked at the wall so he wouldn't have to see Levi's

face. It didn't make him feel better.

"You know when I was turned," Levi answered, surprised.
"I don't mean that. I mean when you stopped caring about how much you hurt me.

Even when you were first turned, you were sorry, but not now. I'm sick. I need you to
stop and you won't."

Levi frowned. "They made you sick with their stupid drugs."
"You made me sick. Go away." Jared turned over.

Levi pulled him onto his back. He looked angry. "You don't get to decide." He

leaned over and pulled Jared's hair from his neck. He smiled a little, looking down at the

red and bruise-purple wound on Jared's skin just below the hairline. "You're starting to
scar."

"It feels like shit. It's cold." Jared tried never to touch it. It didn't feel like part of

him.

"It'll go numb before long."
"I don't want you anymore. Can't you leave me alone?" Jared pulled away again,

curled up in a ball and faced the wall. His heart beat faster and faster.

Levi didn't pull at him this time. He stood over him and pushed Jared's chin up

roughly, pushed the hair away from his neck again and leaned over, fitting his mouth to
the wound. The cold from his lips bored into Jared's mangled skin. Jared pulled in a

shaking breath, a high, terrified note in it. He didn't realize he'd made a sound until Levi
pulled free, tearing him. The flesh at his neck throbbed and stung.

Levi clamped a hand around Jared's wrist. "You have to be quiet. This hospital's not

good for you, Jared. It makes you act differently. Would you like to go with me now?"

Jared rolled over on his back, fighting to make himself straighten and face Levi.

"What do you mean? Go where?" He waited. "You'd let me go home?"

"No."

Jared's eyes widened. "Are you going to kill me?"

Levi shook his head. "I meant just what I said. You could come with me now."
"No, no, no. Please. I'll let you drink, I will," Jared whispered. "Just don't." He

turned away and with his other hand pulled the hair away from his neck, behind his ear
to where the scar showed. His hand trembled. He waited for what seemed like forever.

Finally Jared turned over again.

Levi stood by his side, shoulders hunched, staring down at him. "I'm sorry." He

reached down to touch him, but Jared flinched. He pulled his hand away. "I'll leave." He
walked to the door. "I try to think about what it must be like for you, seeing something

like me. But it's getting harder to remember." He opened the door and slipped out of the
room.

After he left, Jared couldn't catch his breath. He huddled on the bed. His body felt

shaky and out of control. He kept a hand over his mouth, but Richard woke up because

he couldn't stop making noise. He felt weak and ashamed, but he couldn't stop. Richard
looked worried. Eventually he went for the nurse. They gave him a shot. It stopped the

crying. Nothing stopped him from pacing, jiggling his leg, scratching at his arms, and
once scratching a long red line down his face. Nothing stopped his heart from pounding

so hard that he shook.

He went into the quiet room when the nurse suggested it. It had only a single bed in

it. The corners of the bed frame were rounded, no sheets on the mattress. He asked for a
blanket and the nurse told him he'd have to wait. Blankets or anything else that might

possibly be used as a weapon, something to choke or hurt oneself with, weren't allowed.
She checked on him every fifteen minutes. Three hours after he went in, she deemed it

safe to give him a blanket. He rolled himself up in it, huddling on a corner of the
mattress.

Just after dawn, a different Dr. Shrink came to visit and scheduled him for more

tests at the community hospital. He was given a shot that helped him to sleep. He slept

for hours. Sometimes he dreamed. Levi was always in them.

He was escorted to meals. He didn't eat, but he drank whatever liquids they gave

him. After taking his pills, a nurse searched his mouth, though he'd never refused them
or tried to hide them before. Someone stood outside the door when he went to the

bathroom. Aside from that, he stayed in the quiet room.

After twenty-four hours, a different nurse and an attendant escorted him back to

his room with Richard. He wanted to go back to the quiet room, but they wouldn't let
him.

Chapter 14

ORDAN'S PARENTS REALIZED he'd gone to get "help" at the same place where Jared

was almost as soon as Jordan was admitted. He'd had to take some shit over that, but he
thought he'd explained it fairly well, using a finely honed combination of sincere honesty

and total bullshit.

Or maybe his parents understood him better than he thought.

After Jordan came home he went to see Jared's parents regularly, pumping them

for information about how Jared was doing. Earlier on the answers scared him, because

Jared had gotten worse, both mentally and physically. The hospital had run more tests
because Jared appeared to be losing blood. They didn't find anything.

Jordan honored Jared's request for space. He didn't try to visit or talk to him. He

hated it. It was the hardest thing he'd ever done. The worst part was that he wasn't sure

it was the right thing.

He had dreams. Black, smothering things that crawled over him and made it hard

to breathe. He woke up exhausted. Sometimes there was a face. He didn't recognize who
it was, though he seemed familiar.

Jared came home three weeks later, and he didn't call Jordan. The third night after

Jared had come home, Jordan got so drunk with Regina that he'd had to call in to work

the next day. He was pretty sure Regina had tried to jack him off in her car at one point.
She ended up apologizing, which made Jordan feel ridiculously virginal, somehow.

He lost count of the times he picked up the phone or started walking to Jared's

place. He was only down the street. He could feel the fine line of his self-control

stretching thinner every time he put down the phone before letting it ring, every time he

made himself stop walking. So he stopped doing any of it.

Thanksgiving came and went. It was a blur. He did his best to join in with his

family, but his heart wasn't in it.

Two weeks before Christmas, Jordan caught the tail end of a conversation his

mother was having with someone on the phone. She spoke in a low, hushed tone. When

she hung up he asked her what was going on, but then his cell rang. It was Charlie.

After Jared was released from Ridgewood, Charlie had called Jared. He'd been to

see him a few times, but not anymore. Charlie told Jordan he couldn't watch what was
going on. He was calling it quits for good. Said Jared was acting crazy again. He'd

barricaded himself in his room and wouldn't talk. Said his parents were worried sick and
were going to have him committed.

Charlie sounded like he was about to cry. He wanted to know if Jordan had seen

Jared.

Jordan listened and thought about the night behind the sideshow trailer. He

remembered Charlie's eyelashes glinting gold against his cheeks. He thought about how

he'd figured Charlie for a jerk. He realized that he missed the idea of getting to know
him, even though it wouldn't have lasted. Charlie didn't seem to mind sharing, but

Jordan did.

He couldn't talk about Jared to Charlie. That part of him felt frozen and wordless

and too far out of reach. He tried not to think about what had happened between them
at all. It was the only thing keeping him from running down the street and bursting into

Jared's house.

But listening first to his mother and then Charlie made Jordan realize something.

He couldn't stand by while Jared destroyed himself. He thought maybe he'd fallen for
another of Jared's lines of bullshit. The only reason he wanted space was because he was

afraid for Jordan. But Jordan didn't want to be without him.

He told Charlie he was going to see Jared, then hung up.

He went to the living room and told his parents where he was going. The reflection

of the lamp gleamed in the glass cover of the grandfather clock. It was a little after ten.

They didn't ask when he'd be back. His mom only asked him to put on his shoes. He left
without answering.

It'd been raining, and the air was still heavy. The streetlights threw pebbled pinkish

light over the wet asphalt road. His feet slapped through freezing cold water. It soaked

through the hem of his jeans. The wind cut through his shirt, a button-down of soft gray
so old it was nearer to a rag.

There were no lights on at Jared's, but Jordan knocked anyway. Jared's mother

opened the door and hugged him. She started sobbing. Jared's dad stood behind her, a

featureless shadow.

Jordan climbed up the stairs and knocked on Jared's bedroom door. There was no

answer. He knocked again, saying Jared's name, but it caught in his throat. He rested
his head against the cool wood a moment, then cleared his throat and said it again,

louder. He heard a squeal of dragging furniture across the floor, and the door opened
slowly, creaking. Jared stood there in his jeans, shirtless and shoeless. Jordan held on

tightly to his emotions. The room was dark except for the warm glow of a cartoon
character nightlight plugged into an outlet, the colors long faded. It'd been there for as

long as Jordan could remember.

"You have to go," Jared said.

"Then you shouldn't have opened the door." Jordan pushed inside. He stopped and

stared at the window. Jared had boarded it from the inside with two-by-fours nailed into

the wall. "What the hell—when did you do this?"

"Three days ago. Levi came again. He said he was trying, but he's still here too

much. So after he left last time, I went out and bought some stuff." Jared shrugged,
sticking his hands in his pockets. The jeans pulled lower, showing a jut of hipbone. He

quirked his lips. "Probably won't help."

"I thought you were trying to get rid of him."

"What're you talking about?" The hollows under Jared's cheeks pooled with

shadow.

"You don't remember telling me about him? Not that you told me much." Jordan's

heart sank, looking at Jared's puzzled face. Something was very wrong. "Never mind.

When did you eat last?"

Jared laughed. His voice was hoarse, like he hadn't used it much lately. "Did you

bring diapers, too? Screw you."

"Okay, fine. I'd do it in a heartbeat, I told you that. I want it. Anything you want

from me and I'd do it, I guarantee I'd love it. Ask me a year from now and dammit, it'll

be the same answer because I can't help it. The only thing I want more than you is for

you to be okay. Does that win me any points?" He waited, watching Jared. "When did
you eat last?"

"Yesterday morning." Jared retreated to his bed. He slouched against the

headboard. "You want me so much, why didn't you call."

Jordan laughed, a hard, dry croak. "You wanted me to back off. You made me

promise. Will you come with me to get something to eat?"

"No."
"If I go get you something, will you let me back in? Will you eat?"

"Yeah."
"Yeah?"

"I let you in once, didn't I?" Jared's voice was sharp. "I knew I shouldn't and I did.

None of this is one-sided and you know it. Just don't bring my parents with you."

Ten minutes and Jordan was back at the door, a ham and cheese sandwich, a soda

and a filched beer between his arm and side, made even more impressive by the fact he'd

had to convince Jared's parents not to come up with him while making the sandwich
and then steal the beer without them seeing.

He didn't have hands free so he kicked the door and waited, hoping like hell he

hadn't made a mistake by leaving. Then he heard the furniture squeal across the floor

again. It gave him a bad feeling that Jared felt it necessary to put the blockade back up
between the time he left and came back. Jared looked out and to both sides of the door,

then opened it. Jordan put the plate on the bedside table and grabbed Jared's shoulder.
It felt cold, and he squeezed it.

"Eat, I'll move this back."
Jared gave him a watchful, narrow look that chilled Jordan to the bone. He sat on

the bed and picked up the plate, grinning when he saw the beer. "You're a good man."
He popped the top and took a long drink. Jordan didn't say another word, and Jared

ignored him. He ate his sandwich and grabbed the beer, tipping it up and finishing it off,
then threw the can in the trashcan. "Okay?"

"Okay. Now tell me what's going on."
"Levi."

"Jared," Jordan said carefully, moving closer and grabbing his hand. "I don't really

know who Levi is. You told me almost nothing except that you wanted rid of him."

Jared stared down at the bedspread, fingers twisting in Jordan's grasp. "He

shouldn't come here so much. He put me in the hospital once, remember?"

"I remember when you were in the hospital."
"They're not going to let me stay here, Jordy. They're gonna put me back in the

psych ward or something."

"They're scared for you. What are you hiding from, Jared?"

"Told you. Levi."
"I'm not leaving until you tell me who he is. I'm telling you. I want to know

everything."

"Even Malvoline hates him. She sees him climbing in the window and takes off like

a bat out of hell."

"Climbing in the window? Jared?"

Jared looked at him hopelessly. "You won't believe me, but I'll show you." He

turned his neck and pulled his hair back.

"Need some light first," Jordan said, reaching for the lamp.
"I don't want it on. You can see."

Jordan sighed and leaned closer, squinting. There was a crescent of red, sore-

looking teeth marks in Jared's skin. The flesh around them was white and waxy, leached

of color.

"I can't feel anything there. It's cold. So is he until he drinks blood. He's freezing

cold, but then he warms right up."

"Jared—I—fuck, I don't—what the shit are you talking about?"

"Look at this mark and then you tell me what I'm talking about, Jordy. He keeps

saying he won't make me go with him, and I know he's trying but he shows up more and

more." He looked at Jordan. "He can get inside the pysch ward, too. He almost made me
go with him then."

Jordan dropped his face into his hands and rubbed it, then gestured at Jared's

neck. "Did you disinfect the bite marks?"

Jared laughed, thin edge of hysteria making it sound higher than normal. "You

think alcohol kills vampire germs? Maybe holy water … or maybe that's just a shit myth,

who knows, but since there's no holy water in my bathroom I'm out of luck." He swiped

over his eyes with a hand and looked at Jordan solemnly. "I don't think he wants to kill

me, but it doesn't matter. He's going to, I can feel it." He shrugged. "I didn't want you to
know because there's nothing you can do. He's not human. He's a vampire. It's not a

joke and I'm not delusional." He smiled tiredly. "Not yet." He stood up. "He might hurt
you if he finds you here this time. Will you go now?"

Jordan ignored the question. "If he's a vampire, why don't you just leave during the

day, go somewhere else and get away from him?"

"He's always found me whenever he wanted since that first time, no problem. He

told me it's because my blood is inside of him. And I … I guess I'm a little fucked in the

head. It's getting hard to leave here. Or remember that I can. Freaks me out." Jared
shook his head and spoke again, but it wasn't really directed at Jordan. "He won't like

you being here. Maybe I can convince him to wipe your memory one more time and
send you home. Maybe. He keeps saying he won't hurt you."

Jordan's skinned prickled. "Quit talking about me like I'm not right here. What do

you mean again? When was the first time?"

"The fair. Remember when I was getting sort of spooked while we were wandering

the Midway? I saw him. Then he came after me behind the sideshow trailers. After."

Something shivered up Jordan's back, and for a moment he felt as if he couldn't

move, couldn't feel his body. He looked down at the bedspread, trying to remember, but

it was a fading echo that left a faint, dawning horror in its wake.

"I want you to go now." Jared's voice was loud.

"Sure, I'll go. You think someone's killing you and you've gone psycho but that's

okay because I need to leave—oh yeah and fuck you, Jared. No fucking way."

"Every time I see you, you tell me no, Jordy."
"You keep telling me to leave. I listened once and you ended up the hospital, twice

and you plastered your fucking window with two-by-fours and lost your shit. Don't
count on me listening again. I'm stupid but not that stupid."

"Okay. How about I've loved you since forever and I don't want you to die. Will that

do it?"

"No." He stood and put a hand around the back of Jared's neck. "Not even close."
"You did your bit. You helped. Now get the fuck out."

Jordan leaned over and kissed him, lips warm and wet, so slow, sliding over Jared's

and trying to tell him the things he found so hard to say. He moved his hand against

Jared's neck, feeling the long vulnerable line of it, rubbing his fingers over the knobs of
vertebrae and up into his hairline, scrubbing fingers gently into the nape of his hair.

Jared groaned. He sounded despairing. He shivered against Jordan and pushed as close
as he could, deepening the kiss.

Jordan pulled Jared on top of him on the bed and ran his hands down Jared's back,

smooth skin cool to the touch. He arched upward, pushing his body into Jared's until

there wasn't a spare inch between them. His fingers fumbled at the zipper of Jared's
jeans until his hand was slapped away.

"Get yours, I got mine. Hurry," Jared panted into his mouth, then pulled away

enough to get his own jeans down. He was skinnier than he used to be, long muscles

carved in the warm low light, trembling as he held himself over Jordan. He lowered
himself against Jordan's body, both of them making soft noises when their cocks

touched, straining, hard heat.

Jared thrust against him once, hips rolling to grind down against Jordan's cock,

then groaned, muffling it in Jordan's neck. He held himself still and kissed Jordan
instead, biting his lip. Jordan made a muffled protest and felt Jared's lips curve against

his, felt his mouth on his chin and then on his neck, biting and licking and kissing the
whole way. Jordan lifted his chin to give him more access.

Jared's hands moving greedily over his body, his mouth all over him, spiraling

Jordan's arousal upward to something desperate, nearly out of control. It'd been too

damn long. He put both hands in Jared's hair and tugged in frustration. Jared mouthed
at his Adam's apple and licked down into the dip at his collar bone, swooping down to

bite Jordan's nipple.

"Fuck," Jordan groaned, thrusting helplessly upward. His nipple tingled and stung

as Jared lapped it and moved downward, mouthing his skin, licking between the swell of
his pectorals down to Jordan's belly. Jordan sucked in his breath, felt his dick slap

against his abdomen. Jared caught it as it jerked again, made a soft, moaning noise and
closed his mouth over Jordan's cock. Jordan tried not to thrust, felt his whole body

shaking. He couldn't stop it.

He looked down and Jared was jacking himself in a hard, slow grip, groaning

against Jordan's cock as he sucked him, little vibrations that echoed larger all over

Jordan's body. Jordan squirmed, felt his balls draw up tight, and Jared opened his eyes,

looked at him and rubbed his wet lips over the crown of Jordan's cock, teasing, watching
to see what it did to him. Jordan thrust hard, body bowing and fingers clawing into the

sheets, but Jared was ready. He pulled off before he gagged and then shifted to catch
him again, shoving his mouth over him violently, cheeks hollowing as he sucked. Jordan

grabbed his shoulders, trying desperately to hold on just a little longer, but the sight of
Jared rutting against him, skin shifting, muscles bunching and flexing beneath, pushed

Jordan over the edge.

Jordan didn't close his eyes. He wanted Jared to see and understand those things

he couldn't always say so maybe he wouldn't tell him to leave again. He saw Jared's eyes
on him, saw his pupils blow wide and knew he'd gotten the message. He gasped, jerking

into Jared's touch and emptying himself into his throat. Jared swallowed and licked his
swollen lips, then closed his eyes and refused to meet Jordan's gaze again.

Fuck that.
Jordan grabbed Jared beneath the arms and hauled him up on the mattress beside

him. Jared's cock was red, standing out from his stomach, and Jordan bent, mouth
slipping through the precome streaming over the crown, licking it off in fluttering little

movements of his tongue that made Jared twitch and buck beneath him. He pushed his
lips over and down Jared's cock as far as he could go without gagging, sucking him

down, then pulled nearly all the way off, repeating it until Jared's stomach muscles
tensed and he felt the first pulse of him in his mouth. He swallowed and licked until

Jared was done, shuddering against him, then licked leisurely at the head and sides of
his cock, into the hair below until Jared finally tensed, silently protesting, and he had to

pull off. He hauled himself up beside Jared and flopped on his back, boneless.

Jared turned his head and looked at him. "You ever did that before?"

"All the time." God he felt good.
Jared's brow cocked. "It sure as hell felt like you've done it before."

"Maybe I practiced. On bananas or something. Yeah, no. I just liked it, okay? It was

you."

They were silent a moment. Jared looked at him and then away, his voice quiet.

"Jordy, I swear if he turns me into one of them, I won't come for you. I won't ever hurt

you."

Jordan blinked, the words hitting him low and hard in the gut. His eyes welled.

"Shut up, Jared. What a stupid shithole thing to say. Just shut the hell up." He wiped
angrily at his eyes. "He can't. Can't have you. Fuck you, Jared." He sat up and yanked his

boxer briefs on, then threw Jared's furiously at him.

"I'm sorry," Jared said, putting an arm over his eyes. "I don't know what to do,

Jordy." After a moment he reached for his underwear and put them on, then lay back
down. Jordan curled on his side away from him. He slipped into a doze.

Chapter 15

LASS SHATTERED LOUDLY and fell, followed by a loud thump. At the window, one

end of a two-by-four split, pulling away from the wall. Another thump and another piece

of wood bowed in, splintering at the middle and flying off in pieces. A third one came
out of the wall in its entirety and flew across the room, long thick nails sticking from the

inside.

The nightlight went dark. Jordan blinked, staring toward where it had burned for

so long, thinking inanely, it's been there forever, and then they were blind in the
darkness, helpless while their eyes adjusted, listening to the shattering, thumping

sounds coming from the window. Downstairs, Jared's parents shouted in alarm at the
noise.

Levi looked in through a cleared space, his face white and eerily calm, wide, pale

eyes and high cheekbones, shadowed blue and black in the moonlight. "You should have

known this wouldn't work, Jared." His breath blew in clouds of cold, hanging in the air.
Another piece of wood cracked down the middle, bulging, holding a moment before

splitting and falling to the floor.

"Jordy, whatever you do, don't look him in the eyes." Jared scooted to the edge of

the bed, and Jordan scrambled behind him, gripping his arm to keep him from getting
too far away. Jared turned on the bedside lamp. His face was set and pale. "You were

here three days ago, Levi. It's too soon. You're taking too much blood. It's making me

sick again."

Levi kicked at a piece of wood still hanging, crossing midway up the window. He

dropped into the room, crouching. He straightened slowly, his gaze fixed on Jared.
"Why didn't you say something?"

Jared sighed and stood up. "Why are you so cold tonight? Didn't you feed?"
"Because I'm done hiding what I am from you."

Jared laughed. "You must think I'm fucking stupid. It's impossible to hide what you

are. Or what you're doing to me. We both know."

Levi stepped closer. Jordan tried to step in front of Jared and get between them,

but Jared put out his arm, blocking him. Levi looked at Jordan contemptuously, eyes

flashing red.

"Don't look!" Jared shouted, and Jordan jerked his head to the side.

"Why is he here?" Levi said.
"He's leaving."

"No, I'm not."
"I can't keep wiping his memory, Jared. I don't want to. Get rid of him."

"Go home, Jordan," Jared said softly.
"Not this time," Jordan said, just as soft.

"He's here because he loves me," Jared said to Levi. "Don't hurt him."
"I love you. I have from the beginning." Levi put a hand on Jared's waist, looking at

him earnestly.

"Forcing someone to do what you want, that's love?" Jared met his look and

shrugged. "Maybe you do, as much as you can. Or maybe you're just lonely. What
happens to people you love, Levi?"

"You know I tried to let you go. I thought you understood?"
"I don't want to die. I want to go to college, live my life. Be with him."

Levi put a hand around Jared's neck, pulling him close. "I don't want to kill you. I

want us to be together."

Jared's expression grew still, terrified and tight. "No. You don't even want to be

what you are."

Levi straightened, his features going taut and angry. He pushed Jared to the bed,

shoving Jordan away. Jared tried to fight but Levi pressed him into the mattress with

his body. He forced Jared's jaw to one side and looked at the bite marks there. "You'll
get used to the cold." He nodded toward Jordan. "And before you know it, you'll be at

your friend's door, begging him to be with you. What do you think he'll say?" He nuzzled
Jared's throat. "You think he'll say yes? Come live with us?"

"Fuck you," Jared hissed. His body bowed upward off the bed, then fell slowly back.

He closed his eyes, shivering. A thin thread of blood escaped Levi's mouth and ran over

Jared's skin and into his hair. Levi slipped a hand under the waistband of Jared's briefs,
fondling him. Jared moaned, tried to pull away. He closed his eyes tightly, tears slipping

down his face. Jordan's horrified eyes stuttered over Levi's hand on Jared's cock.

Jordan's chest twisted, tight and black and hateful, impossible to bear, and an

image came to him full blown, superimposed over the scene before him—Jared standing
against a trailer while Levi jerked him to orgasm with the lights of the Midway rising

behind.

It hurt. He couldn't breathe for the hatred and hurt, reliving that awful immobility

and the mix of arousal and anguish on Jared's face. It was happening again. He couldn't
watch it again. Couldn't let it happen.

He dropped to the floor, crawling, searching through the ripped-up boards from the

window. He found a piece of slivered wood tapering to a point, about a foot long.

Hefting it in the palm of his hand, he crawled back to the bed.

He wanted to pray to whoever might listen, but his brain was screaming at him to

hurry, to kill the thing hurting Jared. Silently he rose and threw himself forward,
tackling Levi. Levi rolled nearly to the edge of the bed. His breath painted slivers of ice

in the air. His open mouth was ringed in blood.

Jordan looked away from his eyes, remembering. Levi had spoken to him before.

Made him do things. He raised the stake and rammed it into Levi's chest, going for the
heart. Levi jerked backward and the wood slipped, scraped and caught over skin. He

grabbed Jordan's arm. It went cold, then numb. Jordan couldn't keep a grip on the
make-shift stake.

Levi ripped the piece of wood from him. A sliver slid in deeply beneath Jordan's

skin. Levi shoved Jordan, throwing him off the bed to the floor. Jordan landed on his

back, the impact thumping the air from his lungs. Levi straddled him. Slowly he wagged

the blood-smeared stake over Jordan's face. Levi's blood. A tight, hard knot of hatred

and gladness settled like a burning rock in Jordan's stomach.

Levi pushed the tip of the stake against Jordan's chest. Jordan grabbed it, tried to

push it away.

"How does it feel?" Levi's breath formed clouds of ice. "Tell me." He leaned in and

pushed harder.

Jordan's head swam. His hands dropped away from the stake. He heard Jared

yelling something in the background, his voice hoarse and frantic, heard footsteps
thumping up the stairway. Levi leaned closer, tensing, preparing to drive the stake

home. Jordan's ears roared and his breath burned cold in his lungs. There was a terrific
pressure against his chest. The tip of the wood split skin and dug in.

"Don't hurt him! I'll come with you. Fuck you, stop! I said I'll come with you!"
"No, you stupid bastard," Jordan yelled, his voice breaking.

Levi leaned nonchalantly against the stake until Jordan was gasping. "I'd be a

kindness to kill him, Jared. You think you won't come after him but you will."

Jared dropped to the floor on his knees behind Jordan's head, crouching over him

so that he was face to face with Levi. "If that happens, it won't be me anymore. And you

still won't have what you want. Why did you come here without feeding first?"

Levi's face twisted. "I don't know."

"You were going to turn me. You had to be hungry enough to let it overcome you,

didn't you?"

"I thought I could choose not to hurt you," Levi said slowly. "Then I forgot why I

should."

"You still can," Jared said. "I know you can. Please, Dylan."
"Dylan," Levi repeated dully. He focused on Jared. "Why would you call me that?"

"It's still your name. You told me a part of me wanted you or I wouldn't be with you.

I wanted Dylan. You want me because you don't want Dylan to die."

Levi's eyes flared red. "He's already dead."
"He isn't. He's in you."

"You said that before. You were wrong."
"I wasn't wrong. And you can't make me into what you want."

Jared's parents yelled and pounded on the door from the hallway.

Levi's breath slowed. "Are you sure about that? I used to be like you." He sat back,

taking some of the pressure off the stake. "Then I killed someone. Before the fair. I was
trying to stay away like you wanted. I lost control and I killed him. When I saw he wasn't

going to make it I tried to turn him. He was too little. He was a boy and I killed him."
Levi dropped his head. "They're going to kill me for that. The other vampires."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Jared asked.
"It wouldn't have changed anything, would it? Would you ever come to me of your

own will?" Levi asked.

"No," Jared said softly.

Levi gestured at Jordan. "If I let him go?"
"I'll do anything."

Levi gripped the stake harder but otherwise didn't move. "And if I kill him?"
"I'll hate you. I'll kill you. I swear I'll find a way."

Levi nodded. He stared down at Jordan. For a long time he didn't move, a statue

poised over Jordan in the lamplight. "I wake up alone. Sometimes I don't think I can

move because I'm so cold. Every night I force myself out of the ground. I don't think it
will get better." Slowly he placed the stake on the floor. "What do you think?"

"I don't know, Levi," said Jared. "Maybe it will."
Levi nodded. He looked down at Jordan. "Don't move yet unless you want me to

change my mind. I'm going to let you up." He stood and walked to the window. He
looked back at Jared. The breeze fluttered his black hair. His eyes were gray smoke. "I

wanted to be what you want. And you want me to go." He looked at Jordan, then back at
Jared. "I don't want you to be cold."

"I won't." Jared's voice was gentle.
Levi nodded. He climbed out the window. He didn't look back. The wind gusted

behind him, blowing in a mix of rain and snow spitting from the sky.

Jordan sat up. He groaned and touched his chest apprehensively. Jared reached for

him, felt his chest with trembling fingers, saw scratches and blood and bruises already
forming. But Jordan's chest rose and fell just like it always had.

Jared threw himself at him. Jordan opened his arms, wrapped them around Jared

and sank to the floor underneath him, wincing. Jared felt him go stiff and realized what

he'd done. He tried to pull away, but Jordan held on like death and refused to let him go.

They were still there when Jared's parents broke the door lock. The chest of drawers still

blocked their way. They peered around it, looking inside.

"Heeere's Johnnny," Jordan said, wincing again. He started to laugh.

"Moron," Jared said, burrowing his face into Jordan's neck.

Epilogue

August, Eight Months Later

ARED STOOD AT the kiosk with two guys and a girl, watching the bus stop-start its

way down the street. The sidewalk was warm against the soles of his sneakers. He

swiped his hair off his forehead, sticky with sweat, then rubbed his neck, fingering the
area where he'd been bitten. The mark Levi had given him had nearly disappeared, but

sometimes, even in the heat of summer, the skin still felt numb.

The girl gave Jared an interested smile, her eyes following his moving hand. She

was pretty, had long wavy hair and green eyes sharp as grass. Jared smiled and looked
away, back at the bus, a behemoth in the midst of a herd of small milling cars. Students

crowded the sidewalks.

He caught a glimpse from the corner of his eye—someone with longish dark hair

and an easy, long stride. The build was right. Jared looked again, his heart in his throat.

Just another student walking down the street, that's all. No one he knew.

Jared sighed, releasing the sudden tightness in his chest. Daylight or not, Jared

looked for Levi. It was automatic, nothing he'd been able to stop so far.

For months after Levi had gone, Jared saw him around every corner. He had

nightmares about him coming back. Taking him away for good. Turning him. He'd even

thought about moving away, somehow, but he couldn't leave his family and Jordan. And
Levi had always been able to find where he was. He doubted moving would change that.

It's been eight months, he reminded himself. It's going to be okay.

He believed Levi meant what he said, but he also knew he'd tried before and failed

to leave him alone. For a few months afterward, Jared hadn't been able to sleep. He
knew how vulnerable he was. He slept with a stake. It sounded insane and felt pretty

stupid. He knew what Levi could do, and he didn't think anything could help him if Levi
decided to come back. But it was all he had.

He and Jordan had made up some ridiculous story about that night, said some

crazy had started following Jared around night and day. Jared had boarded up his room

and gone a little nuts, refused to talk about him because he was still in recovery and it
messed him up. When Jared didn't come out of the house for a few days the crazy had

busted his way in. They'd fought him, managed to run the guy off. That's how Jordan
had gotten hurt.

They'd gotten away with it, thanks to the pulverized two-by-fours all over the room

and Jordan's injuries—torn cartilage, bruised chest and scratches. It didn't hurt that

there was no one to contradict their story.

The bus finally settled in front of them, blowing exhaust. Jared boarded last and

made his way down the aisle, hoping for a seat to himself. He found one at the very back.

Before everything else had happened, he'd have called the first day of class a pain in

the ass. Not now. Things were different.

He wanted to close his eyes and relax, but figured it'd be his luck that he'd miss his

stop, so he jiggled his foot aimlessly, staring out the window and watched the power
poles whip by. He leaned back and listened to the hubbub of conversation, feeling the

slightly cooler air in the bus sink into his skin.

His stop was four blocks from home. He got off the bus and started walking,

passing by the park. Two women were there with their babies. One of the babies was in a
black plastic swing, squealing as his mom pushed him gently. The other baby sat on a

tiny pony attached to a thick spring rising from the ground. She clutched the handles,
grinned and showed her teeth, all two of them.

The mom at the swings looked up at Jared and smiled. He smiled back.
He had to hunt to find his keys, deep in his backpack. For some reason this

morning he'd thrown them in there instead of in his jeans pocket.

Nobody was home this time of day. He liked the quiet. The air kicked on, set on

automatic, as he moved around the house. His mom had made a fresh gallon of tea the

day before, so he sliced up a lemon for it, poured himself a glass in the sunny kitchen

and headed out the back door. The screen door slammed behind him.

The backyard was long and green, a wooden fence running all around the

perimeter, neatly groomed with ferns and hostas. The willow tree in the middle was full,
long fronds rustling in the breeze, some of them long enough to brush the ground. He

walked through them to one of the lawn chairs underneath and sat. He tilted back and
took a long cold drink of tea, ice cube clinking against his teeth. The glass was already

sweating against his fingers. He sighed and closed his eyes, listening to the quiet buzz of
bees on clover.

A warm hand moved up under his hair to cup the back of his neck. He jumped,

heart pounding, and dropped his tea.

"Sorry," Jordan said behind him, not much sorry at all. Jared could see it in his eyes

when he tipped his head back to look at him. Jared kissed him anyway, eyes closed and

feeling his mouth fit, even upside down.

"How's first day?" Jared asked when they broke it off.

Jordan sat on the ground in front of Jared. "Good. I guess. I hate all that

orientation shit." Jordan shrugged. "How come you didn't want a ride?"

"No sense you having to wait. I don't mind the bus."
"So who makes more, a vet or an engineer?"

Jared shrugged, closing his eyes again. "Who cares? You're the competitive asshole.

You look it up."

"Okay. I will."
Jared jumped, eyes flying open. "Fuck!"

Jordan smiled, slow and warm. He was on his knees. He slid the ice he'd picked up

off he ground, gliding it over Jared's collarbone. It melted along the way, dripping cold

water down Jared's chest. Jared hissed a little at the cold. Jordan pulled his shirt up and
lapped at the water.

"You've probably got ant shit in your mouth now."
Jordan snorted and slurped water noisily off Jared's skin.

"Or something worse, maybe."
Jordan lapped at Jared's nipple.

Jared made a helpless noise. "You're going to fuck me to death, aren't you?"

"Yep."

"There are no classes we can ace by fucking each other to death."
"There should be. Oh, God," Jordan said as Jared unzipped his jeans and grabbed

him.

"I don't actually know if ants shit," Jared confessed.

"Why wouldn't they? There's even bathroom chambers in their nests," Jordan

muttered. He sucked on Jared's skin and thrust into his hand.

"Fucking geek," Jared said, gasping.
"Jared?" Jordan pulled back and smiled a little, looking uncertain, eyes warm

amber and brown in the muted sunlight beneath the tree.

"What?"

"Think maybe we'll, uh, move in sometime?" Jordan winced. "Together?"
"I want to. But … " Jared looked at Jordan and then past him, not even thinking as

he did it. He wondered if there'd ever be a time when he didn't look for Levi somewhere
in the background.

Jordan scowled, stuffed himself back inside his pants and pulled up his zipper.

"He's not coming back, get it through your head. He let you go."

"Yeah? Say you move in. He changes his mind and comes back. Who gets hurt,

Jordan?"

"Both of us. But he's gone," Jordan said, eyes flashing. "You've got to stop looking

over your shoulder."

Jared put a hand in Jordan's hair and ruffled it. Jordan didn't rise to the bait, didn't

stop him, just reached out and put a hand over Jared's in his lap.

Jared stared down as Jordan's fingers rubbed over his. He took a deep breath and

looked up. "I don't see how we'd pay for it."

A grin broke out over Jordan's face. "I've got a job."
"I don't. Not yet. But I will, okay? Just give me a little time. We don't need to rush

this, anyway."

"I know. It's just hard." Jordan kissed him, long and slow and deep, then buried his

head in the crook of Jared's shoulder. "One thing."

"What? I can't hear you."

"There will be many baristas hanging at our place," Jordan said.

"You're talking in my shoulder, moron."

Jordan lifted his head and looked into Jared's eyes. "I mean it. A lot."
"I figured," Jared said, and kissed him again.

THE END

~**~

Author's Notes

I'm knee-deep in this story and taking a moment to write this. First I want to thank Lisa

for the wonderful last minute edit. Some embarrassing typos and awkward sentences
have been removed thanks to her sharp eye. I also want to thank Sonja—she's been a

friend for years, and I hope for many more. Our working relationship is extraordinary,
just like her talent.

I never know everything I'm going to research when starting a story, and this wasn't

any different. I also never know how some of my own experiences will work themselves

into it. This time around I researched sideshows and psychiatric hospitals. I have a few
memories of each to call on, too (from going to the fair, of course, and then as a weekend

receptionist at a psychiatric hospital during college). I even watched a pig race on
YouTube. It was too damn cute. I love my research. It's usually interesting and

sometimes odd.

As to the subject matter of the story: I've had a fascination for vampires as long as I

can remember. My first book length story is an unfinished vampire novel. Nowadays the
book market is absolutely inundated with vampires, but that just means I have to find a

good story to tell and an interesting way to portray the characters. I try my best to do
that anyway.

Vampires are about death, sex, power, compulsion, manipulation and temptation.

Killers. Under their influence people lie, cheat, betray their loved ones and throw their

lives away. For the most part, I'm not a fan of the hero vampire of romance novels,
primarily because the fear factor is demolished. The vampire is defanged. Despite that,

here I am, writing about the very common idea of a monster who wants to love.

But this story is not the vampire's. He plays an important part as a villain and a

tragedy, but this is the story of Jared, the vampire's boy. It's also about his best friend,
Jordan, and how he grows up and faces what he wants. It's about how Jared and Jordan

find strength inside them and what happens between the three.

More than anything else, it's about people understanding what's true and important

inside them—how to find it for the first time or how they fight to get it back if they lost it.

It was a good story for me to write. It's hard to remember that I started it with no

plan—I wanted to relax and have fun, let the story go where it would. It went, all right,
and that's about all that came out as originally intended. I still enjoyed taking it where it

needed to go.

for more information and updates on upcoming projects, visit blackbara.net

connect with me online at:

http://twitter.com/blackbara

http://blackbara.livejournal.com/

http://www.facebook.com/blackbara

http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ThedaBlack

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The Vampire's Boy

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