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I stared at him when suddenly he turned his head and locked eyes with me. My body flushed all over from his stare, but I couldn’t look away. I was completely entranced by him. My mother smacked me on the arm and said, “Rose! Stop staring at that man, he’s too old for you!” Which of course made him all the more appealing: telling a nineteen-year-old girl she shouldn’t do something only makes them want it more.
I walked down the bleachers and watched Scott the entire way. He’d stopped talking to anyone else, and was waiting for me at the bottom. I was almost there when he reached out and took my hand to help me over the last step. I wasn’t used to this type of behavior from guys. It seemed so gallant, and I was almost awe struck. He let go of my hand when I reached the ground and I stood there as I stared up into his hazel eyes and thought he was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen.
“I’m Scott,” he said, and then he smiled at me. He was looking only at me, as if no one else existed. I was flattered to think that I was able to get his undivided attention, out of all the women there.
“I’m Rose.”
“You’re definitely not in high school, not the way you look,” he said with a devilish twinkle in his eye and this should have been my first clue to be wary. But the way he said it seemed like a sweet compliment, instead of the lecherous statement it most certainly was.
“Thanks!” I said, flattered again, flustered and out of my element.
“I go to UMASS, I’m just here to watch my sister pitch, otherwise I wouldn’t be back at high school, you know…” I trailed off because he had smiled at me and I couldn’t think of another word to say.
“It’s obvious you’re much more mature than these high school girls,” he said, as his eyes roamed my body. I was amazed that someone so handsome would ever look at me like that. I had seven sisters, and I wasn’t known for being the pretty one, so the attention from a man like him was intoxicating.
He asked me to go for a ride with him, and I quickly accepted. I left the game without saying goodbye to my family. Why should I have to? I was a grown woman, after all. I could make my own decisions.
It never occurred to me to ask why he was at the game, or whom he came with. We walked down the dirt path to the school parking lot, and I noticed the veins on the back of his hand as he twirled his car keys. His hands looked so strong and sexy. He walked over to a BMW and opened the passenger door for me. No guy had ever done that for me before. On the unusual occasions when I dated someone, they honked the horn when they showed up to get me, or more often than not, expected me to pick them up.
I got in and inhaled the scent of him and the car before he sat in the driver’s seat. It was a woodsy, smoky scent, combined with his cologne, and it made my nineteen-year-old head spin. He pressed a button and opened the roof of the convertible. He seemed like he had a lot of money, and for a naïve, small town girl, this was very impressive. He asked me if I wanted to go to the beach for a walk, and of course I said yes, since this all seemed terribly romantic.
By this time, I had convinced myself that it was fate that had brought us to the game at the same time; that we were destined to meet. We walked along the beach and talked about where he grew up (NYC), his family (one sister he was very close to, and his parents who had passed away), and his job (investment banker in Boston).
He told me he felt so at ease with me, as if we had known each other forever. He usually had trouble talking to people, and allowing people to see the real him, especially women. He didn’t understand why he could open up to me since we had just met, but this was the first time he had ever felt this type of connection with a woman.
Of course, I ate this up like a starving woman eats a Snickers bar. I hung on his every word, astonished that little ol’ me could make this much of an impression on a man like him. I bought it all, hook, line and sinker. By the end of our two-hour walk on the beach, I was convinced I was in love with him.
We slowly walked up the boardwalk and back to his car. It was early evening, so not many people were around. He stopped me on the boardwalk, told me he didn’t normally do this, but could he please kiss me? He’d wanted to ask all afternoon he said, since the moment he saw me in the bleachers. I said yes of course, so he framed my face in his hands and gave me the sweetest, most romantic kiss I had ever received.
I clung to him like a barnacle while he kissed me over and over, and he only let his tongue enter my mouth at the end, but even then only slightly. I took this to mean that he respected me as a woman, and didn’t want to rush things. I was a virgin and Scott seemed so mature and worldly; I saw stars when he kissed me.
After that day we were inseparable. My parents didn’t know how much we saw each other because he would pick me up at my dorm. They expressed displeasure about the fact that he was thirty-two-years-old, but I didn’t want to hear anything negative about the man I was fated to be with, so I just kept it all to myself.
Scott always picked me up. We never went to his place in Boston since he thought it was too far away, and he would rather spend time with me doing things together than driving all the time. I never questioned this. He took me out for nice dinners, bought me flowers, contacted me when he said he would and was very attentive.
After about a week we slept together in my dorm room. I didn’t care that the bed was small or that we weren’t in a romantic hotel, because all I wanted was to be with Scott. I thought the sex would be amazing, and it was at first. When I had an orgasm with Scott, you’d have thought he’d hung the moon the way I reacted. He made me feel special, and when he told me he loved me after we made love the first time, I said it back, knowing we would be together for the rest of our lives.
As we lay there in my tiny bed, I basked in the glow of True Love, never realizing my life would change forever in just a few minutes.
“I want you again,” he said, as he nuzzled my neck. I flushed with happiness, still not quite able to believe that this perfect man wanted me.
“Good,” I said as I turned into his arms once more. But this time was different. What had been sweet and kind an hour before, became aggressive and painful. He scratched his nails down my back, and they were so sharp I knew he had drawn blood.
“Scott, stop,” I said, as I attempted to push him away. He stopped, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Then I noticed he had inhaled very deeply, ecstasy and possession combined in his expression. I was really frightened then.
What was happening? Who had he become?
He pushed me hard back onto the bed; I struggled but to no avail. I begged him to stop, without any knowledge of what I was really begging him not to do. He was thick against my thigh, and I was disgusted with him for the first time since I’d met him. He pushed my legs apart and slid inside, and I still struggled. He hurt me; I realized that was his intent. He scratched my back further with his incredibly sharp nails, and I cried out. He pulled back and I saw his face above mine, but I didn’t recognize it. His eyes were red; his teeth were pointed. I was unable to comprehend that before he leaned down and bit into my neck. I screamed then, as he drew the blood from my body. It seemed to go on forever and s
oon I was hazy and light-headed.
Finally, he stopped. Unable to move, I watched with hooded eyes as he dressed. Everything was gray in my vision, and without much concern, I wondered if I would die. After what seemed like an eternity, he looked down at me and chuckled in a self-satisfied way. Still incapacitated, I heard what he said as if I was underwater.
“Virgin blood. God, you were a lot of work, but so worth it in the end,” he laughed again, his face and body back to the incredibly handsome visage I knew. I listened in horror to his next words, up until that point not quite understanding what he’d really done.
“Welcome to a life everlasting, Rose. I’ve done you a favor, although you might not see it that way at first.” He adjusted his cuffs and continued, “You’re special now. You were nothing before, just some dumpy girl from a nothing town. I’ve given you a gift. You’re not a virgin anymore, so you’re welcome for that. I’ve changed you, but you won’t really know how much for a few weeks.” With that cryptic comment, he slammed the door behind him. I never saw him again.
I waited, scared to death. I wasn’t completely naïve, but what he had implied was impossible. Those “things” only existed in movies. During that time, my vision became clearer, my hearing became acute, my senses became, well, extra somehow. I prayed to a God I wasn’t sure I believed in that nothing would happen to me.
