Page 54
Sumner sits up, stretching her arms out to the side. “Hey, you got any lemons? It’s so nice out, I was thinking of making some lemonade.”
Now it’s my turn to shake my head. She’s been back for three seconds and is already needy for my things. Still, I lead her across the lawn and to my door, gesturing for her to step in. “For every lemon you take, I expect something in return.”
She slips past me, rolling her eyes. “You drink my blood. If anything, you owe me these lemons.”
“Is that right?” I ask, intrigued with this oddly upbeat mood of hers.
Rather than making her way to my kitchen, Sumner finds herself distracted, staring into the living room. “Whoa,” she gasps, running toward the lamp on the side table. “I’ve never seen it do that.”
I also look at the lamp, gazing into its normally black base, seeing it glow a dark purple-blue. Bright white orbs glint through the deep galaxy, their pattern curved like a fishing hook.
“You won’t see it again for another year,” I tell her. “It only lights up like this when there has been a full orbit of Aldure around the sun. It is set to align with the day of my birth.” I trace the line of the stars shining brightest. “Based on the position of the sun when I was born, this is my constellation. The lamp is just a way to keep track of it.”
“It’s so pretty.” She reaches out to touch the cool glass. It’s glowing so vibrant I can see the stars reflecting through the gleam of her irises. Her lips are soft, lifted at the corners. It still astounds me the things she finds so intriguing. “Wait.” Sumner pulls back, shifting her focus to me. “Does that mean it’s your birthday?”
Birth day? “My birth day was quite a few years ago,” I say, confused on why I’d have to explain that. “Today just marks an additional year since that day.”
She stares at me like I’m the one who said something dumb. “That means it’s your birthday, genius. What are you doing to celebrate?”
“Um…nothing?”
The grin she had been wearing drops. “You’re not doing anything? At all?” There’s a subtle undertone in her voice, something soft and almost sad.
I’m not seeing the big deal in all of this. “Why would I? It’s just another day.”
“Birthdays aren’t just another day. They’re special.”
“Says who?”
Sumner brings her lips between her teeth, letting out a slow breath. “I have to run to the store. I’ll be back soon.”
I stand there for a solid three minutes after she leaves, mentally questioning her admiration for something as mundane as a simple day of the year.
Nearly two hours later, there’s a knock at the back door. I’d expected “be back soon” to mean like twenty minutes. I was starting to think she’d abandoned whatever idea she had and wasn’t coming back.
I’m not paying attention as I open the sliding glass door, focused more on my link than anything. When I finally look up to let Sumner in, I can’t help but let my eyes fall over her.
She’s changed, now wearing a form-fitting dress, maroon in color. The top half hugs against her, flowing more loosely from the waist down. Her hair is styled in waves, cascading over her shoulders and down her back. The same smile from earlier still presses her lips, which are now painted to match the fabric cloaking her soft skin.
“I’ve got the birthday goods!” Sumner coos, voice cheery while she bounces up and down on the heels of her feet. I manage to tear my eyes away from her to take the two bags in her hands. Bags I hardly even noticed until she mentioned them. She follows me into the kitchen, digging through them the moment I set them on the counter. “I couldn’t find any actual birthday stuff, so we’re going to have to improvise.”
I watch her pull out a sheet of blue construction paper, tape, and a handwritten letter from one bag; a small tub of ice cream, waffle cones, and a bag of mini marshmallows from the other.
“Here.” She hands me the letter. “Read it out loud.”
I open it, finding sketches of balloons and candles scattered around the words in the middle of the page. “Roses are red, violets are blue, a face like yours belongs in a zoo.” I glare at her from over the paper.
Sumner bites down on her bottom lip, holding back her laughter. “You forgot the last part,” she tells me, lifting it more into my view.
Sighing, I roll my eyes, then continue reading. “Happy birthday to the biggest pain in the neck I know. I hope it’s a good one. Sincerely, the girl NECKS door.” I barely manage to finish the sentence before she’s snorting. Each of her hands covers her mouth while she giggles, clearly very amused with herself.
“Do all of your vampire jokes include necks?” I ask, unamused.
“Pretty much,” Sumner snickers, using the pads of her fingers to wipe under her eyes. “I also got you this.” She digs back in the bag. “Sorry I didn’t wrap it.”
I take the snow globe she hands me. Its base is made of wood, stained dark and still holding a light scent of pine. There’s nothing in the center, save for the white flakes that cover the bottom. I glance at Sumner, who watches eagerly as I turn it over in my hand a few times. The snowflakes swirl inside the weight of the globe, but they don’t all settle back to the bottom. Several of the small shavings hover in place a moment, creating an almost fishhook shape.
My constellation.
