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“Don’t let me delay you. And give your parents my regards.” I nodded and hurried down the hall. Even though it was probably my imagination, I could’ve sworn I felt Mrs. Bethany’s eyes on the back of my neck the whole way.
Raquel didn’t say anything when I came into our rooom. She simply rolled over to face the wall and kept reading whatever magazine she’d picked up this time. I didn’t bother trying to start the conversation myself. If she wanted to be a total jerk to me because of one stupid question, fine.
I started going through the sweater drawer of my dresser. Periwinkle cowl neck—no, I wore that with Lucas last year, and wearing it with Balthazar just feels wrong. Green cardigan—too thin, because it gets drafty up there this late in the fall. Black V-neck—totally boring, and I have to at least look like I’m getting dressed up for Balthazar.
“You don’t usually bother changing for dinner with your parents,” Raquel said. I could tell by the echo that she was still facing the wall.
I paused, unsure how to react. This was the first time she’d started a conversation with me since I mentioned ghosts. I was relieved, but annoyed with myself for being relieved, because Raquel was the one who had been behaving badly. Why should I feel like I was the one getting off the hook?
“I’m taking Balthazar with me.” I didn’t glance in her direction as I pulled the dark-purple cashmere sweater from the drawer.
“I saw you guys hanging around together the other day. I wondered if something was up.”
“Something’s up,” I said shortly. When I didn’t volunteer anything else, Raquel apparently went back to her magazine. Quickly I set about getting ready, putting on the sweater, some dangly earrings, and even a little of the nice perfume my parents had given me for my birthday. It smelled like gardenias.
As I slipped the perfume bottle into the back of my dresser drawer, my fingers brushed against the velveteen scarf that held the brooch Lucas had given me. I didn’t think of him buying it for me; instead I remembered the time we had been forced to pawn it, when we had been on the run together, so desperate and totally broke. I’d thought we were in so much trouble, but if I could’ve traded places with myself and traveled back to that moment, where it was just me and Lucas against the world, I would’ve done it. It was like I couldn’t understand why the world didn’t rip in two—just tear apart at the seams—to bring us back together again.
“I’m glad things are going better for you in the romance department.” Raquel turned around at last, and there was even a small, hesitant smile on her face. “Not like it couldn’t go better than last time, huh?”
She’d never liked Lucas, and hearing her put him down the same way Mrs. Bethany had was the last straw. “It’s none of your business,” I snapped. “You don’t get to ignore me for days and then offer opinions about my love life. You only act like my friend when you’re in the mood, and I’m sick of it.”
“Excuse me for living.” Raquel threw her magazine down and stalked out of the room. I couldn’t imagine where she thought she was going in her T-shirt and boxer shorts, and I pretended that I didn’t care.
Besides, I didn’t have time to worry about it. I had to bring my new
“boyfriend” to dinner at my parents’.
“So are you two going to the Autumn Ball again this year?” Mom said as she spooned a hefty dollop of mashed potatoes onto my plate.
Balthazar and I shared glances. We hadn’t even thought of the Autumn Ball yet, but Mom’s question made sense. “Absolutely,” he said quickly. “I hadn’t realized it was coming up so soon.”
“Time sneaks up on you.” Dad shook his head ruefully before drinking blood from his glass. “Seems like the older you get, the faster it goes.”
“Tell me about it,” Balthazar said. Moments like that reminded me that, even though he looked about eighteen or nineteen, he was actually more than three hundred years old, a vampire as experienced and powerful as my parents.
Of course, I already knew I was the odd one out at the table. It’s hard not to know that, when everybody else is drinking blood and you’re the only one with turkey and potatoes on a plate.
“We’ll need to hurry up and choose a dress, if I’m going to alter it for you.” Mom beamed at me like I’d brought home a winning lottery ticket instead of a guy.
“Definitely,” I said. “I’d like that.”
She squeezed my shoulder, still excited for me, and again I felt guilty. I missed the days when I had been able to tell my parents everything.
The rest of the dinner was marginally less awkward, and afterward, Dad put Dinah Washington on the stereo—one of my favorite singers. It was like he and my mother both were doing everything they could to ensure that I was having a great time. When I said I wanted to walk Balthazar downstairs, they waved us off almost eagerly.
As we headed down the stone steps, I said, “By next week, they’ll have baked and frosted our wedding cake.”
“They just want you to be happy.”
I could hear in Balthazar’s voice how badly he still wanted to be the one to make me happy. “Balthazar—I know it’s fun, us hanging out together—and you’re great, but it’s not like you and I are—” Awkward, I turned it around on him. “What would you ever see in somebody my age?”
“I’m not so different from you. I know I ought to be, but I’m not.” He studied me curiously. “Haven’t you realized that all the students here act like teenagers? Even the ones older than I am?”
“Well, yeah. I thought that was just—being insecure. Not fitting into the world.”
“That’s part of it. But maturity isn’t a purely emotional thing, Bianca.
It’s physical, too. Those of us who died young—we’ll never wholly be adults. No matter how many centuries of experience we gain, no matter what we live through. We can’t change.” Balthazar seemed distracted, almost mournful, but then he straightened and gave me a friendly smile.
