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“Hi, Miss Iris,” Ben said, his apple cheeks blushing red.
Ben was tall for his age, but he still only came up to Cal’s shoulder. Cal took full advantage of this, glaring at him with the hardened stare that had probably made ancient soldiers piss their leather skirts. Fortunately, Ben played a lot of violent video games, so he was immune to that sort of thing.
I rolled my eyes. Honestly, why didn’t Cal just break out a shotgun and clean it in the living room?
“Um, hi,” Ben said, squeaking slightly but stretching his hand out for a manly shake. “I’m Ben.”
Cal arched a brow, glancing down at the outstretched (sweaty) palm as if Ben was trying to hand him a pair of sweaty gym socks. I none-too-subtly nudged his ribs with my elbows. Cal cleared his throat and finally deigned to shake hands. “Cal.”
“Are you a friend of Miss Iris?” Ben asked carefully.
Cal smiled, his teeth white and sharp and not exactly friendly. “A very close friend of the family.”
“Oh, well, that’s nice,” Ben said, relaxing but shifting his body away slightly.
“Tell me, Ben, what are your plans for the evening?” Cal asked, smoothly leading Ben over to the living room and pushing him into the Report Card Chair. Cal stood over him like a mob enforcer in a Scorsese movie. Ben cleared his throat and wiped his hands on his jeans. I stood behind Cal and tried to make calming gestures.
“Um, Gigi made the plans,” he said. “I think we’re supposed to go to the movies and then get some ice cream at the Dairy Freeze.”
“And when you drive Gigi to and from your destination, you will, of course, obey all traffic laws, both written regulations and common sense,” Cal said. Ben nodded dutifully. “And you will drive directly to and from your destination, without even pausing along the way?”
“Yes, sir. I mean, no, sir … which answer means I won’t be stopping to take Gigi to Half-Moon Point?” he asked, flushing even redder.
“I didn’t mean to fluster you, Ben,” Cal said, clapping a hand over Ben’s shoulder. “But Gigi’s health and safety are very important to me. Should she come home in any condition other than the one in which she leaves the house, even if that condition is mildly disappointed, I can only say that I would feel very sorry for the young man who let her down.”
He bent low and murmured something into Ben’s ear. I couldn’t hear all of it, but I made out “back roads” and “shovel.” The redness drained out of Ben’s cheeks, leaving him a sick chalky color.
And suddenly, I was very glad that Ben didn’t know that Cal was a vampire. He might have soiled himself.
Gigi descended the stairs wearing formfitting jeans, a black T-shirt with a deep V neck, and a pretty pink floral scarf knotted at her throat. She smiled sweetly when she saw him. “Ben!”
Ben relaxed slightly, as if having one more witness in the room made him feel safer. “Gigi, you look great!” Cal shot him a hard look. Ben stammered, “I—I mean, really pretty. Um, very attractive, in a completely respectable, nonpervy way.”
Gigi turned to me, a confused expression marring her carefully made-up face. I shrugged. “You all set?”
Ben’s happy grin nearly cracked his cheeks, but I wasn’t sure whether it was my sister’s influence or the idea that he was getting away from my “friend.” Gigi asked, “Can I borrow your gray jacket? The theater’s always cold.”
I nodded, ducking into the kitchen to grab it for her. I felt a hand close around my arm and yank me back. “Yipe!”
Stupid vampire speed.
“What are you doing?” I whispered, shrugging Cal off as he skulked behind the refrigerator door and watched Ben’s every move. The poor kid could hardly produce a sentence without stammering or blushing. And Cal was staring at Ben like the boy was directly responsible for the discovery of karaoke.
“I don’t think I like that boy.” He growled, glaring for effect, just in case I hadn’t figured out his oh-so-subtle interpersonal cues.
“He’s a sweet kid,” I insisted, folding the gray blazer over my arm.
“He’s a teenage boy,” Cal said, his dark eyes narrowed. “They’re all sexual deviants under the surface. I should know. I was a teenage boy once.”
“Thousands of years ago,” I countered.
“Times may change, but testosterone does not.”
“I’ll be sure to write that on Gigi’s Affirmation of the Day Calendar.” I snickered, closing my refrigerator door and starting for the living room. Cal hooked his arm through mine and dragged me back.
“OK, this is becoming annoying.” I huffed, reaching into the fridge for a ginger ale.
“You know, in my time, girls Gigi’s age were already married and bearing their second or third children. Girls didn’t ‘date.’ Their marriages were arranged by their families. Personally, I think we should go back to that system.”
