The Birth of Vengeance (Vampire Formula #1) (4 page)

“So what is your favourite film?” I asked.

“Oh I love sci-fi. It has to be Star Wars and the Matrix as my favourites. In fact, I just bought Star Wars on Blu-ray,” she answered.

Things just got better.

“Really I would love to watch them with you,” I answered, pushing my luck.

Scarlett eyed me, paused for a moment and then smiled.

“That sounds like a good idea. Yeah, maybe we could one day.”

I had gotten away with it. In fact, I wanted to jump up and down with joy as she seemed to genuinely ike the idea. We carried on talking, and I discovered she liked computer games and we exchanged Xbox Live ID’s to play against or with each other online. My luck had changed with the introduction to Scarlett, and her being asked to look after me for the day. My life in London was a definite improvement.

Eventually, lunchtime came around and we went back to the common room to meet Mary. Scarlett went to eat her lunch in the common room, and I raced off to the men’s room. I came back into the room smiling and ready to carry on where we left off. I saw Scarlett on the black sofa with Mary, and about three guys sat around her. The same guys who had glanced and whispered about her earlier in the morning. They flirted with Scarlett and Mary, with most of the attention directed at Scarlett. The guys joked with one another and showed off their new smartphones and clothes, all trying desperately to impress her and get one up on their friends. I couldn’t compete. I wore dark and dingy clothes, my phone worn and battered, and I didn’t have their confidence or their muscles. I had been just lucky to get to talk to her first, and come from the same place and do the same lessons. I slumped disappointed at the sight of the guys flirting with her but I knew others would be attracted to her and would try their luck. I couldn’t keep her to myself all day. Tomorrow we would have lessons together again and maybe if my luck held out she would talk to me again. I walked off to the other side of the common room picking my way through the other occupied desks, with friends talking and laughing, to an empty desk to eat my lunch alone.

“Jon,” I heard shouted across the room and I turned around.

Scarlett waved me back over to her. I headed over, back around people eating their lunches at the desks, not sure what to expect and stood in front of her just behind the guys circling her on the sofas. The guys turned around and glared at me for interrupting.

“Sorry guys, I promised to show Jon around today, maybe another time,” with that, Scarlett picked up her lunch and made her way out of the circle, forcing her admirers to move out of the way. I obviously didn’t hide the expression of smugness as the group of guys continued to glare at me with more intent. Scarlett walked quickly across the room and placed herself down at the empty table. Mary stayed with the group of guys enjoying all of the attention to herself, as she smiled and flirted back. I happily followed Scarlett back to the table smiling broadly as I went.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Hey!” she replied, and looked up surprised as she opened her lunch box.

“You can have lunch with those guys if you want. I think I can find my way about now.”

She smiled, “no thanks. I want to have lunch with you.”

I must have looked startled as though that was the strangest thing anyone had ever said.

“Is everything okay? I take it’s all right to have lunch together still, I thought we were getting on well,” she said, as she paused with the lid of her lunch box half opened.

“We are, I just didn’t want to assume,” I responded urgently, not wanting to give her the wrong impression, and pleased this morning wasn’t just a show but a genuine beginning of a friendship.

We continued to hang around together during college time and started meeting up at weekends. Scarlett and Mary hadn’t made many other friends since joining, and as all new to the area, it made sense to stick together. We would meet up to revise as we shared many of the same classes anyway and text each other in the evenings and weekends keeping the conversation from the day progressing. I invited Scarlett and Mary to go to the cinema to see the latest sci-fi blockbuster. We had become close friends in a relatively short space of time. We connected to each other online one night playing, “Crisis Red” and teamed up against a couple of kids from Scotland. Only a few weeks had passed and I couldn’t imagine life without her. However, things started to change.

One Friday afternoon, I hid in the art room trying to do some homework when my phone beeped.

“Where are you?” Scarlett’s message read.

I didn’t answer. I hid from her to put her out of my mind. In those early weeks, I tried to put all thoughts of an intimate relationship with her out of my mind. We were friends and any clumsy attempt would ruin everything. Yet my dreams wouldn’t comply and they undermined my efforts of a friendship. The dreams weren’t all explicit for eighteen years or over, most were just Scarlett and I as a couple doing normal things, like watching the TV snuggled together on the sofa. These dreams had the profoundest effect. I would wake up full of spirits bouncing out of bed and getting ready to go and meet her, and then remembered it wasn’t real. I would spend the rest of the day struggling to talk to her properly, as though we had been going out together and I had been dumped. I felt heartbroken and stupid at the same time, knowing it had never been real and would never be real.

I continued on these happy dreams as daydreams, imagining what life would be like with Scarlett. Thoughts of our life together, like getting a flat together, going out together and then going to university together. I ran through every possibility in my mind and lived hundreds of different lives with her. I imaged every scenario I could possibly think of that she would suddenly want to be my girlfriend. I could win the lottery, be the lead singer in a band, inherit a fortune or save her life. It would need something dramatic and life altering for her to see me in a new way.

My depression had lifted when we became friends. I had started to brighten up in my outlook on life and my clothes and attitude had likewise followed. However, the reality of our friendship started to hit home. I feared I would change into that sad guy following around this gorgeous girl and have to standby watching her date idiot after idiot, while wishing she would one day notice me beyond just a friend. I envisioned everyone else would be talking behind my back. I could imagine the comments.

“He doesn’t stand a chance.”

“She will only ever see him as a friend.”

“It’s so sweet; he is like a little puppy dog the way he follows her about.”

I didn’t want that to happen. I feared my feelings for her had gotten out of control. I had become obsessed with her and would count the time between our meetings, inventing reasons to meet up. Every time we met, my heart pounded. I put my hand on my chest and could feel it beating its exaggerated rhythm. I would get hot, with the sweat coating my skin as a signal to the world of my desperation. Around her, I got distracted, unable to study or concentrate in joint lessons. When she spoke I wouldn’t be listening; instead, my eyes would fixate on her lips as she sweetly sounded the words, wishing I could lean forwards and kiss her. I had enough. I began hiding away from her between lessons, inventing reasons to disappear, or I would skip lessons to aviod the issue. That day I hid in the art room.

The phone beeped again.

“Jon, where are you!” it read.

I tried again to keep studying but daydreams of her kept overwhelming my concentration and I sat staring into space instead. I started daydreaming that I became a superhero by some sudden biological trigger and I would save her life from vicious thugs. Just then, the door of the art room swung open. Scarlett came in, looked around the room and spotted me. The embarrassment jolted me out of my stupid fantasies, and I dipped my head into the books trying to hide my flushed cheeks.

“So this is where you are hiding from me,” she said picking her way through the empty desks.

“I’m not hiding. I was doing some homework.”

“You could do that with me in the sixth form room.”

“Sorry, I didn’t want to bother you and I have lots to do,” I said pretending to be deeply engrossed in my textbook.

“You wouldn’t be bothering me. Why do you keep hiding away?” she asked.

“Oh, just family issues. Sorry I am not much company, I didn’t want to bring you down.”

“Are you sure? Don’t lie to me,” she said raising one eyebrow and frowning a little.

“Honest, just a bit tense between my Dad and I since moving to London,” I said, and she seemed to believe it.

“Come on, let’s go for a coffee in town on the way home. The house is empty tomorrow. Why don’t you come around? I have already invited Mary. Maybe we could finally watch Star Wars together,” she said, and waved me up and shut my textbooks.

“Okay, that would be great,” I replied.

I realised she wasn’t going to leave me alone, and I grew excited by the idea of going around her house. I quickly packed up my books and left with her.

The next day, Saturday, I walked through the housing estate to Scarlett’s to meet up with her and Mary. Scarlett’s mum had left for the weekend with her new boyfriend, so Scarlett had the house to herself. My phone vibrated in my pocket.

“Mary is ill and not coming. Just the two of us,” Scarlett’s message read.

I felt elated at the thought of having Scarlett to myself all day but also worried about the intensity of it, and if I would cope without saying something stupid and giving away my true feelings for her. I would be alone with her all day in her house and my imagination ran wild.

I texted Mary and wished her well, half hoping I could convince her to come still so I could avoid the issue.

My phone rang and Mary’s name flashed across the screen.

“Hi Mary you okay,” I answered.

“Yeah, I am fine actually. I am not ill at all. Just want to leave you two alone for the day.”

“Hey, what do you mean?”

“Don’t be dumb,” she said, “You two have been dancing around it ever since you met. For goodness sake, do us all a favour and get on with it. I can’t stand the tension any longer.”

“What do you mean?” I asked again, not believing what she was implying.

“She never stops talking about you Jon. And you so obviously fancy her. You go all gooey eyed every time you talk to her.”

“I don’t; we are just friends,” I replied, embarrassed by the transparency of my feelings.

“You do but Scarlett can’t seem to see it and needs constant reassurance.”

“Well what do I do?” I asked.

“Just tell her the truth. One of you is going to have to break the silence,” she said.

“But what if she says no, or I mess it up?” I asked.

“She won’t say no. You just need to take that gamble.”

“Best of luck Jon. Text me later if anything happens, bye,” she said, and hung up.

I walked in a daze, head spinning from the news, stumbling into a litterbin and then bumping into an old lady walking her little dog. The dog yapped and I apologised. I quickly sat on a wall to regain my composure.

Scarlett fancying me! No way!

Mary must have made a mistake, or maybe not, she seemed remarkably insistent and was rarely wrong. I smiled and held my head up high. I set off again and increased the pace, imagining what the rest of the day might hold. On the way, I happily revisited my favourite daydreams about being Scarlett’s boyfriend. Maybe I didn’t need to daydream anymore.

I stood outside the front door of Scarlett’s house, brushed down my clothes and tidied my hair up before ringing the bell. I wore the blue polo shirt she helped pick out for me yesterday after we went for a coffee. I had put on my best jeans and carried a black fleece. I took a deep breath and tried to relax and look causal but I struggled as I twitched nervously.

“Just act normal,” I repeated to myself over and over again.

The door opened. I took one look at Scarlett and wanted to drop to my knees and pledge my undying love to her straight away. I hoped Mary was right about Scarlett fancying me, else today would be the most tortuous day of my life. Scarlett was dressed to destroy. Her hair perfectly brushed into flowing locks over her shoulders, and framing her face and light green eyes. She smiled and her full lips lifted her cheeks and wrinkled her eyes in genuine pleasure to see me. She wore a low-cut white lacy t-shirt showing off her pushed up cleavage. The t-shirt came up short around her midriff, and showed off her flat stomach and pierced belly button. After the flesh of her stomach, a snug pair of red hot pants sat on her hips, with the tops of her hipbones poking above the waistband. She had finished off with shocking red lips, finger and toenails. Her legs bare and shiny with a thin silver chain rested on her left ankle. I stood in silence stunned by her appearance, and tried hard to hold my resolve.

“You’re wearing the shirt we picked. It looks good,” she said, running her hand gently through her flame red hair.

“Thanks,” I gulped back.

“You look lovely,” I said, feeling I should recognise the effect she had on me.

“Do you think? Just some clothes I had lying about.”

“Come in; I am glad you could still make it,” she said.

“Of course we can still have fun just the two us,” I added.

“This way,” she said and walked upstairs to her bedroom.

I hastily kicked off my shoes and followed her up the stairs. I walked behind with her red hot pants just about head height and noticed a tattoo in the small of her back, a pair of extended silver and gold angel wings. My eyes transfixed on the tattoo and the red hot pants as she moved up the stairs in front of me. Her hips bouncing up and down as she climbed, giving the illusion of the wings moving. If Mary were wrong, it would be a long day.

Scarlett lived in a two bedroom, beautifully decorated, semi-detached house on a new estate. Her house felt warm, and shone clean and tidy. A pinewood fragrance filled the air from fresheners dotted about the house, rather than the musty smell of old socks we had in my house. I felt embarrassed by the state of my own house, and realised I would need to tidy it up if I ever invited her around. In her bedroom, posters of sci-fi films and heavy metal bands covered her walls. The other students in the college would have guessed her room to be pink with posters of boy bands. Everything I knew about Scarlett seemed to contradict what everyone else thought and the image she portrayed.
 

We started off listening to some classic heavy metal albums and singing along in her bedroom. Scarlett’s rich red hair bouncing around, as she threw her head around to the music, and I hoped Mary was right. Enclosed in her bedroom the intensity between us grew. My heart pounded faster than ever before and I heated up, so I quickly unbuttoned my polo shirt to let the air in. I tried my best to keep the conversation going, repeating things discussed only the day before but uncomfortable silences kept breaking any momentum I developed to talk about our relationship. Scarlett spoke very little and I tried harder to engage her in conversation. I couldn’t decide if it was boredom or fear that kept her unusually quiet. My phone beeped and I received a text.

“Just tell her the truth,” Mary’s message said.

Scarlett’s phone beeped next. I guessed Scarlett’s message came from Mary from the way she shielded her phone on receiving it, and the look I got after she read it.

Scarlett got up and ran off to the toilet, and I heard more beeps. She then reappeared at the bedroom door.

“You want a drink?” she asked.

“Tea, please.”

She ran downstairs and I could hear voices. I guessed Scarlett was making secret phone calls to Mary. I realised it wasn’t just me that was getting uncomfortable and acting strangely. Maybe there was some truth in Mary’s comments. I hoped it was Mary encouraging Scarlett to tell the truth as well, and maybe it explained her behaviour.

“Do you want to come down stairs and watch a film?” Scarlett shouted.

“Coming,” I replied and walked down the stairs looking at the photos of her and her Mum on the wall. All the photos were recently taken, with nothing from her past before London. I sat on soft fabric beige sofas in front of the TV and Scarlett entered carrying tea and snacks. We watched Star Wars together sharing a packet of tortilla chips sat in a bowl between us. Occasionally our hands touched as we reached in and it sent a tingling through my arm. The film helped relieve the pressure of making conversation and avoided the tension between us. Eventually, the film finished. Neither of us said anything, and I just stared at the credits waiting for inspiration.

Scarlett eventually took the initiative, moved the empty bowl and slid across sofa.

“Jon, I’m glad Mary isn’t here today as I have something I want to talk to you about.”

It sounded promising and I sat up straight anticipating what she would say next.

“Yeah, what’s that?”

“Why do you keeping ignoring me and running off?” she asked.

It’s not the question I expected. I sank back down into the sofa and answered the same way I have always answered.

“I told you before, just family issues,” I said, feeling deflated.

“No, don’t lie to me anymore. I can tell it’s something to do with me.”

“No, it’s really not,” I responded again.

“Yes it is; just tell me the truth,” she asked again, reaching out and holding my hand.

I tried to pull away but she gripped harder as my resistance increased.

“You have to face up to it, you can’t be scared all the time,” she said, staring into my eyes.

My gaze focused onto her beautiful light green eyes. I felt scared and wanted to run but she just held my hand tighter every time I tried to move away. It had been hard enough not saying something before. I had itched to tell her in the past but always seen sense at the last minute not wanting to ruin our friendship. I looked away unable to take the pressure and stared at the floor. I wanted it to be true. I wanted to tell her everything but she might laugh at the idea. She squeezed my hand gently, prompting and reminding me of her presence. I had said to myself when I moved to London, it would be a new me, not scared anymore, a fresh start. I had to tell her even if it went badly. I had to be a new person. I wouldn’t let the O’Keefes win.

“Yes, you’re right. I can’t do this anymore,” I said taking a deep breath, and I gripped her hand back but couldn’t look her in the eyes.

“I hide because I find it hard to be around you,” I said, not realising how it sounded.

“What’s wrong with me?” she answered indignantly, pulling her hand back but I held it tight.

“Nothing, that’s the point. You are gorgeous and funny and I enjoy spending all my time with you.”

“So what’s the problem?”

I would have to spell it out to her. I looked up straight into her green eyes and faced the truth.

“I am attracted to you and I want more than just a friendship.”

I finally got it out, and for few seconds I felt the pressure of my emotions disappear but then I became worried. She squeezed my hand again and smiled.

“So why didn’t you say before.”

“Just look at you. Let’s face it; you’re way out of my league. First, you’re nearly two years older than I am. Second, they are much better looking guys than me wanting to go out with you. And you’re gorgeous, and funny, and could do much better than me,” I rambled at her, repeating myself but I kept my focus into her eyes.

Scarlett leant forward brushing away my hair draped over the side of my face.

“There is a handsome man under all that hair and gloom,” she said. “You are a real friend not like the others in the class. They only pretend. They are only after one thing.”

“I am hardly popular or fashionable like you,” I said, embarrassed by her affection and my face glowed from her gentle touch across my cheek.

“I wish I had the guts to dress how I truly felt, I am too scared of what others would think,” she said.

She then looked at me for a long time not saying a word, seemingly weighing up the situation.

“Let me show you something.”

Scarlett pulled out her photo album from the shelves and pointed at some pictures of her at school in Leeds. I didn’t recognise her. Where she pointed on the picture stood a girl with brown hair, thick glasses and fat pushing out against her school uniform. She looked like a geek.

“Yes, that’s me.”

I did the double take from photo to her and back. Scarlett smiled, obviously used to this reaction.

“I lost my appetite during my parent’s divorce, things were difficult. Mum wanted out of Leeds and found a job in London so we moved.”

“She reinvented herself, became a new person,” she said.

I looked at the photo and then at Scarlett again still taking it in, finding it hard to believe.

“I did the same. I decided to live up to my name of Scarlett, dyed my hair, changed my image, stayed on a diet to keep the weight off and got contact lenses.”

Scarlett took the photo album, shoved it back on the shelves, and out of her sight like a memory she wished to forget and re-joined me on the sofa holding my hand again.

“What did I look like, Jon?” she asked.

“A normal girl.”

She raised her eyebrows and looked at me sternly.

“Say what you really thought.”

“A geek,” I responded timidly and tried to smile the insult away.

“Yes, I was; I still am,” she answered back, “this is just an image,” she said waving at her clothes and hair.

“I have never had a proper boyfriend and I am guessing you never had a girlfriend either.”

“Not really,” I answered.

“So, this isn’t easy for me either Jon, I thought you’d gone off me by hiding away.”

“No, I haven’t. It just felt easier to avoid it. I hoped the time apart would make it easier but it didn’t. I just missed you more.”

“Can’t run scared all your life Jon,” she said, and shuffled towards me on the sofa.

“I want us to be more than friends as well,” she said shyly titling her head to one side.