

### Valentine's Day Sucks

(A Young Adult Romance Novella)

by Juli Alexander

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2012 by Juli Alexander

All the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living, or dead is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved.

No part of the book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in encouraging piracy of copyrighted materials in violation with the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

Author's Note:

Thank you for downloading this short novella. As noted in the retail description, this novella is approximately 62 pages long or 16,000 words. Keep reading at the end for a sample of _Stirring Up Trouble_ , a novel currently available at all major retailers.

## Chapter One

At times like this, I was grateful that I hadn't sprouted fangs. My parents would have freaked! Things were bad enough around here with my mother angry about staying home for New Year's Eve.

"You haven't used your gift cards from Christmas, yet," Mom said, handing me another china plate to dry. "I've never known you to hold off on shopping for six whole days."

"I don't know what I want," I said as I carefully stacked the plate on the table. I knew exactly what I wanted, of course. Blood, blood, and more blood. I'd thought of nothing else in the months since I'd turned.

I almost smiled as I imagined my mother's expression if she read that Christmas list.

"Remember that you promised me you wouldn't just order a bunch of sweatshirts and t-shirts, Natalie."

My mother said giving gift cards robbed her of the joy of shopping. She agreed to give them to me only after giving me guidelines on my shopping choices. I didn't have the luxury of worrying about little, insignificant things like whether my wardrobe was too grungy in her opinion. I had real problems.

I knew my mother was irritated with my behavior. She couldn't understand why I hadn't rushed out to the mall with a joyous expression. The holidays had not gone well for me. Today had been one more insufferably long day. My mother was losing patience with me, and if I wasn't careful, she'd lose her temper. Luckily, I could control mine. I had learned to be as apathetic, as close to the I-don't-care line, as possible. Any strong emotions could prompt me to lose control of myself and my disconcerting appetites.

"Your father better plan an amazing Valentine's Day. We've always gone out for a romantic New Year's Eve."

Whatever, I thought. I'd never been a big fan of Valentine's Day. The truth is that Valentine's Day sucks.

A clamor of excited voices from the media room gave me an idea. "Should I take Dad and Uncle Jerry some more beer?"

"Go," Mom said without looking at me.

My uncle's visit had ruined my mother's plans for New Year's Eve. My father and uncle were having a blast, but Mom wanted her champagne and dancing. I ran to the fridge, grabbed two bottles, and left the kitchen. It wasn't convenient for me either. I'd suffered through days of holiday activities and family traditions. Tonight should have meant freedom for me. My parents should have been out celebrating. And, did I mention that all I could think about was blood?

In the media room, I stepped over my two younger brothers who were lying on the floor to watch the game. Dad, Uncle Jerry, and my oldest brother, Travis, had hogged the media chairs. I set a beer by each of the adults, glared when sixteen-year-old Travis tried to snake Jerry's half-empty old one, and left the guys to their football.

Once upstairs in my room, I relaxed. I felt in control when I was in my room. Everywhere else, I struggled to behave like a normal person.

I plopped onto my bed. Normal. As if. I hadn't actually pulled it off. My parents were "concerned" about the changes in my personality. I glanced over to see that the drawers of my dresser were all firmly closed. I had purposely left the middle left drawer slightly open, and yes, I did all my own laundry. So the parents had taken time out from our family weekend to search my bedroom. Again.

Mom and Dad had decided their fifteen-year-old daughter was on drugs. How else could they explain the way I'd started keeping my distance from my family? It would never occur to them that I was staying away to protect them. They couldn't fathom the truth--I didn't want to accidentally eat them. Or more accurately, drink them.

My parents' misdirected paranoia made it difficult for me to feed. I couldn't keep anything in my room, my purse, my backpack. If I could just chew the anti-craving gum or suck on the lozenges that the other vampires used, I wouldn't be in agony listening to the beating hearts of my family as the blood pumped through their veins. I could deal. I could be around them. Unfortunately, their determination to attribute my weirdness to drugs meant that I couldn't use the tools to minimize my weirdness.

The soft knock on my window could not have come at a better time. I jumped up, parted the curtains, and opened the window for Matt.

"Thanks for remembering to knock," I said. I didn't like when he just barged in. Last night, he'd come in ten seconds after I'd changed into my nightgown.

Matt handed me a water bottle. "You were pretty clear that my life was in danger if I forgot."

I didn't bother to answer. I just unscrewed the cap and chugged the synthetic blood in a few seconds. I handed him the empty bottle. "Is that all you brought?"

"I didn't think you would have room for more. Didn't you eat a massive dinner?" Each word sounded delicious with his Georgia accent. Not the fake Southern accent they always had on television. A Georgia accent was cultured and confident, and in the right guy, the heat of the rumbling cadence could make my heart beat faster.

"Waste of space," I grumbled, struggling to stay with the conversation. "You really didn't bring more?"

"I was hoping you could slip out later. I left some down by the lake."

We'd made a habit of spending time down by the lake. Sneaking out tonight would be risky, but I didn't have a lot left to lose. "Sure."

Matt sat on the floor in his usual spot, his back against the wall. I knew this was his effort to respect my space and make me more comfortable. I sat back on the bed, in my usual spot.

"God, Natalie, I'm so sorry. I never meant for this to happen." Head bowed, hands in his hair, Matt repeated what had become his mantra since the incident in November.

"Shut it, Matt." I didn't like to talk about it, and I especially did not like to think about it. Matt hadn't turned me. His little sister had. She was nine and insisted that she didn't need a babysitter. Matt's parents had gone out of town for the weekend, and Matt was responsible for dosing her with synthetic blood so that she would never thirst for human blood. Matt had given her dinner but failed to watch her drink it.

"I've been bitten by preschoolers before, but that was my first fifth-grader." And my first vampire.

"She will never do that again, Natalie. You should have seen her after. She was horrified."

"I know, Matt." He was still trying to convince me. Out of guilt. He was also trying to justify to himself that he had not told his parents. They didn't know about the bite, and they didn't know about me. "You're boring me," I said, desperate to make him stop.

Matt smiled. "I'm boring you."

"Yes," I said. "Get interesting or get out." I couldn't manage the last without a grin.

"Well, aren't you Miss Hoity Toity vampire."

"You swore you would fulfill my every need."

He nodded. "I did. I remember promising you would never do without. Of course, I meant food. And guidance. Your entertainment requirements never entered my mind."

Matt was a junior and didn't exactly run in my circles. Before I'd turned, I didn't know him as anything other than Ashley's big brother, who was very cute but way out of my league. Now he was my best friend, and my only way to avoid munching on innocent people for sustenance. I hated being dependent on him, on anyone. I loved having his attention, though. In fact, I was pretty sure that my crush on him was ninety-percent of what kept me going.

I stood and smoothed my t-shirt. "Let's go ahead and go. I'm hungry."

"You'll get there, Nat. You'll learn to cope."

I didn't believe him. "Feed me."

He shook his head in frustration. Then he stood and motioned to the window. "Ladies first."

"Hang on." I scribbled a note to Mom and left it on my pillow. I told her I had walked two neighborhoods over to visit my friend who was babysitting.

"Will that work?" Matt asked.

"No." I texted my friend and got a green light on the alibi. "She doesn't let us leave the house on New Year's Eve. Too many drunk drivers. This won't keep me out of trouble. It will just keep her from calling the police."

***

Ten minutes later, Matt pulled off the road and onto a dirt path. About twenty feet in, he stopped and killed the motor. I climbed out of the car and started down the familiar trail toward the lake. Matt caught up with me, and took my hand in his.

I jerked reflexively at the unexpected contact. Glancing over at him, I shot him a questioning look through the darkness.

"You're not alone," he said, keeping his hold on me.

It wasn't exactly a declaration of his undying love for me, but he did care about me. And holding his hand made me feel safe and a little lightheaded.

We didn't talk anymore as we climbed down to the lake. When we got to our spot, I sat down on a log, and he let go of my hand to rummage in the brush for the rest of our dinner. He pulled out a backpack.

"How much did you bring?"

"Not as much as you probably want." He pulled out a tiara that read "Happy New Year."

He held it up for my approval.

I laughed.

"May I?" He asked gesturing to my head.

With a nod, I consented. Matt stepped into my personal space as he placed it on my head. He stood a few inches taller than me, and his hair was as dark as mine.

Then he pulled out a large bottle and two plastic champagne glasses. The whole gesture would have been perfect except that he'd refilled a 2-liter soft drink bottle with synthetic blood. He handed me the glasses and poured the liquid. Then he took one and held it up. "To a wonderful New Year."

I clinked my glass against his. "To the future." I groaned inwardly as I realized I sounded like a dork.

We each took a long sip of our drink. Then he sat next to me as I watched the moonlight dancing on the quiet lake.

"How'd it go tonight?"

With a sigh, I said, "My mother is getting suspicious about my gift cards. She can't figure out why I haven't used them yet."

"You're worried about going to the mall?"

"Yeah. I mean, school is hard enough. At least there I'm distracted by trying to keep up with chemistry and algebra II. But the mall. You know what they have at the mall?"

"Lots and lots of clothes?"

"Lots of blood. Hundreds of people filled with gallons and gallons of blood."

"Good point." He was quiet for a minute, sipping from his glass. Then he said, "Why don't you just order some stuff online?"

Huh. "I didn't think about that. I usually need to try everything on."

"Order stuff that you know will fit. You don't really want the clothes anyway, right? You just want your mother to quit pestering you."

"True. I could order shirts and tops and stuff." Socks, undies, a couple of nightgowns. I thought my mother might like it if I ordered a few bright colored sweaters. Mom had mentioned counseling more than once, and I know she took my recent behavior as a possible sign of depression. "Thanks," I told him. "You're getting good at solving my problems."

"That's me," he said, lifting the bottle to refill our glasses. "Synthetic blood deliveryman, fashion consultant, parental advice provider..."

"Good friend," I said. I wanted more, but I couldn't exactly say, "Slurpalicious hottie." I mean, I didn't have the guts.

"To good friends," he said. He raised his glass but didn't wait to complete the toast. Instead, he downed his in one gulp.

The cold was creeping out of the log and up through my jeans into my buttocks. "I need to move around a little." I stood up and did some marching in place.

Matt rose. "Should we go? I didn't think to bring a blanket."

"No. I don't want to go. Let me just get the blood flowing again."

"Don't tempt me," he said, attempting to look intense and frightening but failing miserably.

I laughed and stopped marching. "Are you going to bite me?"

He stepped closer to me. Then he licked his lips and moved close enough that I could feel his breath on my neck. "I might," he whispered.

For a minute, I thought I would be okay with him biting me. In fact, I wouldn't have minded nibbling on his ear.

"Are you afraid?" he asked softly.

I didn't move except to breathe.

Then he scared the crap out of me by yelling "Roar!" in my ear.

I would have fallen over if he hadn't grabbed me.

"You idiot!" I hit him as best I could. "I think you popped my eardrum."

"Did I scare you?"

"No! You hurt my ear!"

He pinned my arms at my sides to keep me from further battering him.

"Sorry," he said. "It was getting too intense, and I deflect with humor when I'm nervous."

"You do?" He had never shared anything so personal.

"Lame, huh?"

His eyes were mere inches from mine. "Not lame."

"Do you promise to stop hitting me?" he asked.

"Yes," I said.

When he removed his arms, I realized I should have said, "No. "

"It's New Year's Eve," he said.

I thought we'd already covered the subject. "I'm pretty clear on the date," I said. Then I messed with my tiara to make sure it was straight. "Thanks for making it a party."

"I usually sit up with my parents and watch the ball drop."

"Sounds fun."

"I like this better." He motioned to the lake and the moon. Then he pulled out his phone which was vibrating. "It's almost midnight."

"Oh no. We should go!"

"Not yet. We have to do the countdown."

He held his phone up for me to see.

"Ten," he said.

"Nine," I said with him. Weren't we supposed to kiss at midnight? Is that what he had in mind? I was pretty sure everybody kissed somebody at midnight.

"Eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one," we said in unison.

"Happy New Year," Matt said and hugged me.

A hug was better than nothing. "Happy New Year," I said, awkwardly hugging him back.

"I have a great feeling about this year."

I had a pretty good feeling about the hug, but I didn't say so.

"Ready to go?" He leaned down and collected our things.

With a sigh, I admitted, "I should probably get home."

He held out the soft drink bottle. "Still hungry?"

"Always!" I said, and reached for the bottle.

"You can have the rest."

"Are you sure?"

"Go for it."

I unscrewed the cap and took a big swig. When I glanced over at Matt, he was smiling at me.

"What?" I said.

"Nothing," he said, but he kept grinning.

## Chapter Two

When I climbed back in my window, I saw the note on my pillow. Mom had written a message on the reverse side. "You are grounded forever, missy!" When she called me missy, I was in trouble.

I crumpled the paper into a ball and tossed it on the floor. I crawled into bed, and pulled the covers over my head. Great way to start the New Year.

Somewhere amid the tossing and turning, I heard the beep of my cell receiving a text.

I dug around the covers to find my cell and saw that it was from Matt. It said one thing, "Call."

My first middle-of-the-night text from a guy. I called.

"Are you up?"

"Now I am. I'm grounded forever by the way. What's up?"

"Tomorrow night. Well, tonight. At dinner. My parents want to meet you."

I was suddenly wide awake. "You told your parents about me."

"Not exactly. My little sister did."

"Why would she do that? Why would she tell? What did your parents say?"

"It's fine, Natalie. Really."

My lungs weren't functioning right. I struggled to breathe. "How could it be fine!" I gasped. "You've been lying to them for months!"

"They busted me for sneaking out. My sister heard the arguing, and she tried to save me from being punished." He sighed. "I guess Ashley's been feeling pretty miserable about the whole situation for months now."

I couldn't summon any pity for her.

"She told them. Are you in trouble for lying? Is she in trouble for..."

Ruining my life.

"I expect them to hand down a pretty harsh sentence for Ashley. As for me, we didn't get into that yet. My mom and dad were more concerned with you."

I did not like the sound of that. "Me?" Fear gripped my chest. "What are they going to do to me?"

"They are going to protect you, Natalie. We'll talk about this tonight."

I wasn't so sure. Why all the secrecy if they were going to be fine with me being a vampire? "I can't go to dinner, Matt. I'm grounded."

"I'll take care of it," he said. "You are Mom and Dad's first priority."

Why hadn't I demanded Matt tell me more about the vampire world? I'd taken his food, his reassurance, and the tidbits of information he'd divulged. I had no idea what my existence was going to mean for the Johnsons. Would I be a liability? Would they forbid Matt from helping me? I trusted Matt, but his parents? I wasn't so sure.

***

I had only managed a solid twenty minutes of sleep when my mother came in and woke me up.

"I'm going shopping," she informed me. "Your father and uncle are watching football all day. I left a chore list in the kitchen. Have them done by two. Don't leave the house."

I rolled over to face her.

Mom was glancing around my room, and for a minute, I thought she was going to search it again. Then she bent and retrieved the crumpled note. "You are grounded forever," she said.

"I know."

"You were really with Tara?"

"Yes."

"Well," my mother said, putting her hands on her hips. "You are going to Matt Johnsons' house for dinner tonight. His mother called." She stared at me for a moment. "She indicated that the two of you were close. I didn't know you knew Matt Johnson. Isn't he in Travis's class?"

"We're friends, I guess," I said.

"He's an awfully cute boy, Natalie. Too cute to be just a friend."

"Mother!"

"I'm just saying..."

"Mom!"

"If you guys are good friends, why haven't I seen him around here?"

I just shrugged.

"We'll talk later." She turned and walked to the door. "Oh yeah," she said over her shoulder as she left the room. "You're babysitting your brothers today. You might want to get up and cook breakfast before they burn down the kitchen."

I knew she'd be back to torture me if I didn't comply. Grumbling, I crawled out of bed and made my way to the bathroom.

***

Mom's chore list had eighty-seven items. Between scrubbing every inch of the house and chasing the brat-lets, I had very little time to stress about dinner.

When Mom finally let me off the hook for the day, I'd crossed through items one through sixty-two. My hands were red and sore from scrubbing, and I could barely grip the bottle of water my mother handed me. I truly hoped dinner was all you can eat. At least I'd be able to eat without hiding in my room. Matt's family all had my taste for the synthetic blood.

Matt's family. I didn't know what to expect. I'd met his parents twice. Both times, I'd paid them little attention. They were just a paycheck for me. They probably hadn't thought much about me either. And then there was his sister. I had to admit that I was harboring some serious animosity toward the little girl. She had bitten me! And I had done nothing to deserve it. I could have died, but I didn't. Instead, I was a freak in a world full of humans. I literally depended on Matt for my survival. If he stopped bringing me sustenance, I'd...

I guess I'd have to hunt. I shuddered. I couldn't bear to eat people. It was morally wrong and evil, and I wouldn't ever do it. But what were my options? I was so not going to suck on a squirrel. Ever! Or a rabbit. I struggled to identify any animal I could eat. What did I eat now? Chicken? Those things were super-gross when they were alive. The smell alone would make me hurl. Pigs? Cows?

"Natalie?" my mother said, passing by my room. "Aren't you in the shower yet? You're going to be late."

I jumped up and ran for the shower. The good part about having three brothers was that I got a room with my own bathroom.

I can do this, I muttered to myself as I shampooed my hair.

Matt's parents are perfectly normal. Except for the one itty-bitty detail that their genes had mutated to make them vampires. No biggie.

Just think of all that yummy synthetic blood you can drink tonight, I thought to myself. I had to keep it together. I couldn't panic. Panic was a strong emotion, and strong emotions were bad. I couldn't believe the cleaning had actually calmed me. I abhorred cleaning, and now I might have to do it on a regular basis, not because of my parent's orders but in order to preserve my sanity and humanity. Dear God, was I going to have to abandon my career aspirations and actually clean for a living! Calm down, Natalie. Calm down right this second or you're going to have to scrub the toilet with your freaking toothbrush. Somehow, the image helped. Pull yourself together, I ordered. Now.

After blow drying my shoulder-length hair, I slipped on my favorite jeans and one of my current favorite tops, one of the few that couldn't be called a t-shirt or sweatshirt. I studied myself in the mirror and practiced my "Please feed me" smile. Maybe I should try my "Please don't kill me smile."

"Natalie," my oldest brother yelled from downstairs, "Matt's here."

"No he isn't," I grumbled looking to the window behind me. Oh, right. Front door. He's officially here to pick me up. "I'm coming," I yelled.

***

Matt opened the door for me and waited while I climbed in. Then he went around to the driver's side, got in, and said, "You look terrified, Natalie. It's going to be okay. You'd think we were eating you for dinner or something."

I took in a deep breath. I didn't like that image one bit.

"We aren't," he rushed to say. "I shouldn't have tried to make a joke. Come here," he said, and he put his arm around me as I leaned into him. "It's all good," he said.

"I'm fine," I said, but it came out as a squeak.

"You're so stiff." He started rubbing my back.

"I'm fine," I said with better success this time. "We should go." I was tightly wound all right. I couldn't even enjoy a pseudo-hug from the guy I dreamed about.

His pinched expression told me he wasn't reassured, but he buckled his seat belt and started the car. "Are you afraid of my sister? Because Mom and Dad have her under control."

I didn't answer him. I wasn't being coy. I was just trying to breathe.

He reached over and took my hand in his as he drove. I squeezed so he'd know that I wasn't catatonic, and he squeezed back.

We pulled up in front of their brick, two-story house, and I jumped out of the car as soon as he killed the engine. "Let's get this over with," I said. I could chug dinner, and we'd be out of here in minutes.

I scarcely had time to brace myself before the hurling ball of third grader slammed into me, knocking me back a step.

"Natalie, I'm so so sorry. I didn't mean to do it. I really didn't. I was mad at Matt and I was tired of minding him. Then I didn't eat because he told me to eat, and I'm so so sorry." The little girl held me tight, her head down.

"Ashley!" Matt yelled. He grabbed his sister and tried to pry her off of me.

"Stop it, Matt!" Ashley screeched. "You're hurting me!"

"Then let go! Ashley, you're scaring her!"

"It's okay," I said, finally getting a word in. "I'm not afraid of her anymore."

"You aren't?" Matt asked, no longer tugging.

Ashley finally let go and looked up at me with tears in her big blue eyes. "You're not?" she asked with sniffle.

I turned to Matt and saw concern. His eyes were the same color as his little sister's, but the similarity ended there. Matt's held wisdom, empathy, and a little spark of something that made me hope he would one day return my feelings.

"Please forgive me, Natalie," Ashley pleaded, drawing my attention away from her brother.

"Ash," Matt warned. "Don't push it."

I held out my arms, and she rushed to hug me.

"I forgive you, Ashley. I know you didn't mean to do this to me."

"Thank you, Natalie. My parents want me to be a big helper to you from now on. I'm going to be your best friend."

"Sorry, Ash," Matt said. "I'm her best friend."

Ashley scrunched up her nose at her brother. "We'll see about that!"

His parents, who for all appearances were typical suburban mom and dad, opened the front door as we came up the walk.

"Natalie!" Mrs. Johnson said, her rosy lips curved into a smile. "It's so good to see you again."

"Yes, yes," his father said, "come on in."

They moved to let us in and his mother closed the door behind us.

Mr. Johnson stood there with a big, fake smile pasted on his face.

When I took a step back, Matt said, "Dad, you're creeping her out."

He quit smiling. "I'm sorry, Natalie. We're doing our best. It's a lot to process in a day."

"We are so sorry that Ashley," his mother shook her head, "behaved so deplorably."

"We never...thought," his father said as we all stood awkwardly in the foyer.

"No," his mother agreed, "we would never have believed she was capable had it not happened."

"She already forgave me," Ashley said, crossing her arms in protest.

"It's not that easy, sweetie," her mother said. "Go to your room until we call you."

"Come in and have a seat," Matt's father said.

Thankfully, Matt sat right beside me on the couch. His parents each chose a leather chair across from us.

"We homeschool her," Mrs. Johnson said, tucking her skirt under her leg. "We homeschooled Matt until junior high."

"We put safety first," his father said. "We work hard to ensure that no harm comes to anyone."

"I suppose I'll be homeschooling Ashley through grad school," his mother lamented. "When you mix her stubborn streak with the Vampirism Gene." She sighed. "Well, things aren't always pretty."

"But we never would have believed she could bite her babysitter," his father reiterated.

I didn't know what to say. Were they waiting for me to tell them it was no problem?

Finally, Matt stopped them. "Actually Mom and Dad, Natalie doesn't really like to talk about it. The bite. Ashley."

"Oh, of course."

"Sorry, sorry," his father said.

"Natalie," his mother said, leaning forward in her chair. "How are you coping? Are you okay?"

"Um, I'm doing okay," I said. "Matt has been helping me."

His parents shared a look that made me nervous.

His mother shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "It's so nice that you and Matt were friends. If it had to happen to someone, er, um."

"We weren't friends." I glanced over at Matt and then back at her. "We barely knew each other."

I thought I detected disappointment on Mrs. Johnsons face for a second.

"Matt says your parents don't suspect," his mother said.

I shrugged. "The vampire thing would never occur to them, but they think something is wrong."

Matt's mother winced. "We'll never be able to fix this, Natalie. We'll never be able to make this up to you. We all have no choice now but to deal with the consequences. You are part of our family now. We'll provide for you like our own."

"Thank you," I said because it seemed like the polite thing.

"Matt has taken care of your sustenance so far, but other problems will arise. We'll figure those out together. In the meantime, I will do what I can to help with your parents."

The doorbell rang and Matt's parents shared another look.

Mrs. Johnson frowned. "Oh dear. She's early."

"I'll let Dr. Williams in," his father said. "You fill in Natalie."

I twitched at the word "doctor."

"They just need to be sure you're getting enough nourishment from the synthetic blood," Matt assured me quickly.

His mother nodded. "Some people don't take well to the synthetics, especially those that are turned rather than born to vampirism."

"She just needs to do a quick exam. Check to see that you are healthy."

Dinner was one thing. A medical exam was another. Should I really be putting my health in their hands? I glanced over at Matt. I guess I already had.

"I should have told you in the car, but you were so freaked out."

Matt's father led a rotund woman into the room. "Dr. Williams. This is Natalie."

Dr. Williams smiled warmly, and something about her reminded me of my grandmother. "Welcome aboard, Natalie. I just need a few minutes of your time."

I instantly liked her.

"You can use the library," Mr. Johnson said and led us into a room off the foyer.

Old books lined the library walls. I'd wanted some information about vampire life. The library could be the place to start.

Dr. Williams checked me out like a normal doctor. She looked in my ears, made me say "ahh", took my temperature. Then, she checked my weight. "Do you remember what you weighed when you were turned?"

"Not exactly. I had other things on my mind."

"Of course you did. Do you know if you have lost or gained weight?"

"Lost. Definitely lost."

She didn't like the news that I had weighed more before my transition. "You shouldn't be losing," she said. "How much?"

"Maybe five pounds. Or ten. My jeans are loose but not loose enough to go down a size."

She made notes on her iPAD. "Have you been feeling weak or tired?"

Stressed. Terrified. Like a freak, but weak and tired? "Not really. Just hungry."

"Now we need to talk about birth control. What are you and Matt using?"

My jaw dropped. I hadn't expected to sit in Matt's house and be questioned about sexual activity. What happened to dinner? Were they even going to feed me?

"Everything you tell me is confidential," she said softly.

"Nothing. We aren't."

"You aren't using any birth control," she asked with concern.

"No. We aren't having sex." I didn't want birth control. I wanted blood. What was wrong with these people?

She didn't say anything. Just stared at me the way a teacher would if I claimed the dog ate my homework.

I squared my shoulders. "We aren't even dating. We're just friends."

Her iPad slipped out of her fingers, and she caught it just before it hit the floor. "Oh. Oh dear. I just assumed."

I knew adults always assumed that teens were having sex, but even so, her shock seemed a bit much.

"He did turn you though? I haven't been filled in on the whole story."

"No, he didn't. It was an accident." I didn't know if I should rat out Ashley. "You'll have to ask the Johnsons."

"He didn't turn you?" She no longer met my eyes. "I'll just give you some pamphlets then in case it becomes an issue. There are some differences for vampires. You'll need to know if things change." She sounded almost sad. "Let me get some blood from you for lab tests, and I'll get back to you with the results tomorrow." She glanced down at her iPAD. "Do I have your cell number?"

"You can't call me. My parents might notice. You'll have to call Matt's parents."

"Of course. So they are assuming full responsibility for you, despite the situation."

"What situation?"

Her eyes widened behind the heavy frames. "Oh, I mean, nothing. I just misspoke."

She hadn't just misspoken. I didn't know what "the situation" was but it must be important. I'd ask Matt about it later.

"I'll call the Johnsons in the morning with the result." Then with almost motherly concern, she handed me her business card and said, "You call me for any reason, Natalie. I answer this number twenty-four seven."

I took the card and slipped it into the pocket of my jeans.

She squeezed my shoulder. "Day and night."

I think I got it. She was worried about me. If only I knew why.

***

"I hope it wasn't too bad," Mrs. Johnson said after Dr. Williams had left.

"No. It was fine." I wanted to get Matt alone and ask him some questions. I didn't know quite how to ask him such delicate questions.

"The good news is that it's time to eat," Matt said.

The boy knew exactly what would cheer me up.

When I saw the table, I stopped in my tracks. The table was set with plates and silverware and dish after dish of food. Meatloaf. Green Beans. Potatoes. And a glass of milk at each place. Where was the synthetic blood? Where was the powder to mix in the bottled water?

Mrs. Johnson saw the confusion on my face. "I used my own recipes, Natalie. Everything here will be nourishing for us. I've added the synthetics. This method allows us to masquerade as the average family and also prepares us for situations when we must eat human food in public."

"Oh," I said, studying the potatoes more carefully. "It looks good."

"It doesn't smell good though, does it? And it doesn't taste good," Matt assured me. "It tastes as bad as your dinner did last night, but it will fill you up and help your cravings."

"He's right. The stuff is terrible," his mother agreed. "It's taken a lot of time to make the food look right without altering the synthetic blood significantly in the cooking process. But flavor isn't an issue."

Yum, I thought. I'd rather have had my usual bottle.

As we took our seats at the table, I started to calm down. The Johnson family didn't harbor any obvious ill will or murderous anger.

I carefully placed my napkin in my lap and realized one person was missing. "Where's Ashley?"

"Oh right!" Mrs. Johnson jumped up. "I'll get her."

Matt's dad scooped some green beans onto his plate and passed the bowl to Matt. "Tell me about yourself, Natalie," Mr. Johnson said.

"Dad, you're making it seem like she had to audition for her place at the dinner table."

"I'm just trying to get to know her, Matt." He gave his son a hard look. "You've spent months with her. The rest of us haven't had the opportunity."

I didn't understand. He was upset that they hadn't known about me because they wanted to spend time with me? I hadn't expected them to be anything but resentful, or at best apologetic, about me becoming a vampire.

"Dad, she's a sophomore. She's fifteen. She doesn't drive yet. She goes to my school."

"Nice laundry list, Matt, but I'd like to hear it from Natalie."

"I'm not that interesting," I said. "I'm just kind of average."

"No you're not," Matt and his father said in unison.

"I am. I was. Of course now things are different." I hesitated, reluctant to share my parents' lack of trust. "My parents think I'm on drugs because I avoid them and my brothers. They search my room all the time. That's why Matt has to come over so much. I can't afford to keep any synthetic on hand."

"I am so sorry about this," his mother said coming down the stairs with Ashley. "We hate that you are suffering."

"It's not a big deal," I said.

"Of course it is! To lose the trust of your parents that way. Especially when it wasn't your doing." Mr. Johnson turned his focus to his daughter.

Ashley slipped into her chair and squirmed under her father's scrutiny.

"We can help some with the cravings, dear," Mrs. Johnson said. "We can give you mints in the original containers."

"I can't. What if my brothers got into them?"

"They'd be fine. You shouldn't feed them to the boys on purpose, but a few won't make a difference. They contain an herbal blend that specifically targets only one craving. Craving blood."

"My parents might test them. They might take them to a lab or something."

"They'd go that far?" Mr. Johnson asked.

I nodded.

"Oh you poor dear," Mrs. Johnson said, reaching out to pat my arm. "What have we done to you?"

All their guilt was making me feel guilty. "I'm okay. Really. Matt has been great. He really has. I just think I'm ready to know more about what's happening to me."

"Of course, you are, Natalie," his mother said.

His father cut the meatloaf and gave me a slice. "We've got a lot to teach you, but first we eat."

Ashley elbowed me and whispered, "Good luck. They never tell me anything."

## Chapter Three

"Great news," Matt said before he had cleared the windowsill. "You're healthy."

I snatched the bottle of synthetic blood.

"Mom sent three."

"Three? I can't drink three."

"Sorry, Nat. I'm under orders to stay until you finish them all. Mom and Dr. Williams don't want you losing weight."

"If I have to finish them all, you'll be here all night."

He grinned. "So be it."

With a sigh, I unscrewed the cap on the first bottle and gulped it down.

He sat on the floor and watched.

I wasn't ready for another bottle yet, so I lay on my bed on my stomach across from him.

"Was the doctor okay?"

"Yeah." I wanted to tell him everything but I couldn't make myself say those words. "She asked some weird questions."

I averted my eyes afraid he'd read too much there.

After a moment, he cleared his throat. "Yeah. My parents were asking some pretty uncomfortable questions too."

"Like they think we're more than friends," I said.

"Exactly."

I got the nerve to meet his eyes. "Why do they think that?"

He looked away. "I don't know. I guess because I spend so much time here late at night. We are teenagers. I don't understand what they are thinking, though. It was almost as if--."

"They were disappointed that more isn't going on?"

"Yes," he said, his blue eyes boring into mine. "I thought I was crazy."

"The doctor was the same. I don't get it."

He shook his head. "Me either. They don't tell me everything, you know. I have to drag each piece of information out of them. It's ridiculous."

"And frustrating."

He nodded.

For a few minutes, he sat and I lay there, and we didn't say anything. It was the good silence at first. Then it changed to awkward and uneasy and almost like an itch that needed scratching. I started wondering if maybe we should be doing more of what every adult thought we were doing, and then I wondered if his train of thought had traveled in the same direction.

"You should start the second bottle," he said.

Grateful for something to do, I grabbed the bottle.

"I need to tell you one more thing. I mean, Mom wanted to do it, but I thought it might freak you out less if I told you myself."

Oh man. "What is it now?"

Matt left his seat on the floor and sat on the bed next to me. He took my hand in his.

"How bad is it?"

"Not that bad. It's just that, er, um, we have to start supplementing the synthetic blood."

"What do you mean? With the stuff your mother cooks?"

"I wish." He stared down at my hand clasped in his. "You're going to have to start drinking some real blood for a while."

I jumped up and away from him, tugging my hand loose. "No way."

"I know it isn't ideal," he said.

"Ideal! Ideal? It's bad enough you've made me into a monster. I don't have to behave like one too."

He stood and took hold of my arms. "Look at me," he said. "Look at my face."

I did.

"You aren't going to do anything wrong. No one will be hurt. You'll drink blood that the blood bank is discarding. The stuff only lasts twenty-one days and some goes to waste."

Bile rose in my throat. "I can't drink blood." I wanted to. I wanted to smell it, taste it, swim in it. I craved blood, but actually giving in to the craving terrified me.

"You can, and you will."

Then I did the most uncool thing a girl had ever done. I started crying.

Matt took me in his arms and hugged me tight. "I know," he said. "I know."

My first drink of real blood took place the next night at Matt's house. His parents tried to make it better by serving it in wine glasses and drinking it along with me. Mrs. Johnson had sliced apples and cheese and put out some brie and crackers. Not one of us tasted them.

I appreciated their efforts. The second glass went down better than the first. Soon I didn't have any trouble at all.

"You should only drink it here," Mrs. Johnson said after delicately blotting her lips with her napkin. "Every other day will suffice. You can drop by after school or have dinner. Whatever works for your parents. If we have an emergency, Matt can bring some along with the synthetic."

I didn't like the synthetic as much after drinking the real stuff. I dreaded going to sleep at night because I dreamed about blood, but I was always full now. I could be around my family without worrying.

"How are they getting the blood?" I asked Matt later.

"My dad works in biological waste disposal."

I couldn't help shuddering at the thought. "That cannot be pleasant."

Matt shrugged. "I never thought about it. It's just necessary."

Poor Mr. Johnson. I'd expect someone in that line of work to be a lot creepier.

"Tell him thanks," I said. I actually meant it. It wasn't until later that I realized that the Johnsons probably had the means to get rid of a body if they ever needed to.

They could probably get rid of my body. I was glad I didn't know that earlier. Now, I trusted his family, and the knowledge didn't bring any of the stomach cramping it would have before.

***

Halfway through the week, my mother decided to invite Matt to dinner at our house. She made it pretty clear that he had to eat at our house since I'd had dinner over there.

My parents agreed that Friday would be an excellent night, and against my will, I invited Matt to suffer the scrutiny of my parents and the repulsiveness of my brothers.

He rang the doorbell promptly at seven.

Mom served lasagna, the only dish she made that managed to fill up my brothers.

Lasagna used to be my favorite, but now it tasted like everything else. Bland and blah.

"Smells delicious," Matt said, even though I knew he couldn't smell it.

"Thank you, dear," my mother said.

Jordan and Justin were arguing about something. I had long ago learned to tune them out. Mom and Dad had too. Luckily, we didn't have to put up with Travis. He had a date.

Before dinner, I heard my mother lecturing my father about going easy on Matt. "Don't frighten him off," she'd said. "I like him, and I know Natalie does."

"So Matt," Dad said with a cautious glance at my mother, "you're a junior?"

"Yes, sir," Matt answered, trying to focus on my father but sneaking glances at my bickering brothers.

"What are your college plans?" my dad asked.

Matt shifted in his chair. "I haven't decided on a school yet. Or a major."

My brothers' argument had escalated to punches.

My father stood, grabbed them by their ears, and pulled them away from the table. "Your rooms. Now."

For once, I hated to see the brat-lings go. They had provided a distraction. Now my parents could seriously focus their attention on Matt and me.

I jabbed Matt with my elbow to get his attention. Then I took a giant forkful of lasagna and stuffed it in my mouth.

Matt took the hint.

"You probably don't have any idea what you want to do," my mother said. "Oh, your mouth is full."

My plan backfired when my mother landed on another topic of conversation.

"Natalie, I forgot to tell you. I volunteered to chaperone the Valentine dance. Well, the PTA called, and I had to agree, but I knew you'd be excited. We are going to have so much fun!"

The lasagna started its way back up my esophagus.

Matt had frozen, his fork in midair.

"Mom!" I nearly shouted. "I'm not going to the dance."

Mom looked from Matt to me and back. "I thought surely you were."

Matt started to speak but I couldn't let him take the heat for my mother's assumption.

"No," I shook my head emphatically. "We aren't. Mom and Dad, me and Matt are just friends."

Mom eyes widened, and she backpedaled as fast as she could. "Oh, no, dear. That isn't what I meant at all. I just thought you would want to be there since I am going to be there."

"Shhh," my dad said, patting my mother's shoulder. "You're making it worse."

"This lasagna is fantastic," Matt said before heaping another spoonful into his mouth.

With all the vampire craziness and my fears about his family, dinner with my family had turned out to be the most awkward. Once again, my life reaffirmed what I'd long known to be true. Valentine's Day sucks.

***

We were supposed to pretend to go to a movie after dinner so I could get some red blood cells in me. I would have backed out of the whole charade if my sustenance hadn't depended on it. Better to drink my blood with the Johnsons than to sit in my room face-to-face with Matt late tonight.

"Are we still going?" Matt asked as my mother cleared the table.

I nodded.

"Oh, right," my mother said. She'd been thrown for a loop and she was trying to cover with fake enthusiasm and a plastered-on smile. "You two run along. I wouldn't want you to be late."

"We can stay long enough to help with the dishes," Matt offered.

The politeness I usually admired had come back to bite me in the butt. I tried sending my mother subliminal messages and, when that didn't work, I shook my head vehemently behind Matt's back and made waving bye-bye gestures.

"No, thank you. I appreciate the offer, but we have it under control."

"Great!" I grabbed Matt by the arm and dragged him toward the door. The only thing more insufferable than dealing with him after my mother's _faux pas_ was continuing to deal with Mom and Matt at the same time.

"Slow down," Matt said through laughter as I closed the front door behind us. "Your mother isn't going to come after us."

I shook my head. "You don't know my mother."

Laughing again, he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "I'm not afraid of her. Now let's get our story straight on what movie we are seeing but not seeing. The more we interact with your parents the more I worry."

I should have known he could distract me from my mortification.

***

When we got to the Johnsons' house, Matt saw the glasses of blood on the table and said, "Oh, thank God! I thought I was going to starve to death."

"Hi, honey, how did it go?" his mother called from the couch.

His parents and sister were watching a movie in the great room.

"Fine," he said.

"Let's eat," I said, striding toward the table.

I sat down, took a long sip of blood, savoring the taste, and relaxed for the first time all day.

Matt slurped his down like a human would a mocha latte.

I savored mine, taking a smaller sip. "AB?" I asked.

"You're getting pretty good at it," Matt said.

The truth was that I was starting to feel a lot more "at home" in the Johnsons' house than at mine.

Just as I had feared, his mother came over to sit with us. "How'd he do? Manners? Did he eat enough?"

I smiled as I glanced over at Matt. "He did great. Perfect manners, and he totally pulled off normal."

"Wonderful," she said. "I have to admit I was worried."

"Mom, I told you I had it under control."

She sighed. "It's just so important that they like you. More important than either of you can imagine."

Matt rolled his eyes. "Hold the drama, Mom."

"My parents definitely like him," I said. "I think they want to keep him. They might want to arrange a trade for me. Or maybe they want him as a son-in-law."

Matt spit out some of his blood.

"Son-in-law?" his mother asked. "Well that is certainly good news."

"She's overreacting," Matt said. "They just assumed that we'd be going to the Valentine dance together."

"You mean you aren't? You should. When is the dance?"

"No. We aren't. Nat explained to them that we are friends and only friends. She made it very clear." He raised one eyebrow and locked eyes with his mother for a long moment.

"Oh, dear," she said. "Still, I don't see any reason to miss the dance. You only have so many Valentine's dances in your life."

Heat was rising in my cheeks. "Please, Mrs. Johnson, I think he got enough pressure at my house."

"Don't be ridiculous, Sweetie," she said, patting my hand. "Matt wants to take you. Don't you, Matt?"

I wanted to crawl under the table.

Matt didn't meet her eyes or mine. "I guess you would miss the dance otherwise, Nat. It's not like you could go with someone else. It would be too dangerous. You couldn't be within," he cleared his throat, "inches of some other guy without wanting to bite him."

Oh no. He was caving. He thought he would have to take me the dance. He thought it was his duty.

"It's really okay. I don't need to go."

"Too late. It's settled. You two are going to that dance."

I looked Matt in his blue eyes. "I am so sorry."

"Yeah," he said, looking away from me. "I see that."

***

After Matt dropped me off at home, I tried to sneak up to my room without my family noticing. I made the landing and was in sight of my door when I heard my brother yelling, "Mom, she's home!"

Great. I marched into my room and slammed the door. The moms were going to push Matt away from me. Taking me to the dance was just asking too much. They were messing up our friendship, and I knew he didn't want to take me. If he'd wanted to take me, he wouldn't have said all that junk about being my only chance to go.

Mom rapped on the door.

"Come in, Mom."

She peeked her head in first. "Are you still speaking to me?"

With a dramatic sigh, I said, "I suppose."

Stepping into the room, she held her arms out and said, "I am so sorry. I never meant to embarrass you."

"I know." I wanted to stay mad at her, but I felt too crummy.

"Did the movie go okay?" she asked.

Movie? Oh, right. "Yes."

"Good."

"Mom," I said. "He asked me to the dance, but I think he thought he had to. His mother was pressuring him also."

"She was at the movie?"

Crud. "No. She texted him."

Mom's face turned from bright with excitement to creased with worry. "Oh, honey. I'm sorry you feel like he was forced into it. This should be an exciting time for you."

She sat on my bed and put her arm around me. "Matt's smart, right?"

"Of course."

"Then, he probably could have found a way out of asking you if he had wanted to."

If she knew the whole story, she might understand. I couldn't tell her that he had to take me to prevent the possibility of the violent murder of another classmate. By me. "I'm not so sure," I said.

"You are a beautiful girl, and any boy would be lucky to take you to that dance."

"You're my mother. You have to say that."

"Okay, then." She stood up. "I'm going downstairs. Have some faith in yourself."

Faith in myself. Huh. If she only knew how much I was hiding from her, she wouldn't have any faith in me.

"Oh," she said and turned around. "Don't forget that I'll be there too."

No freakin' way. "No, Mom. No!"

"Why not?"

"It will be hard enough as it is! You have to promise not to chaperone. Or I won't go."

Mom grumbled under her breath for a few moments.

"Remember? You wanted a nice romantic date with Dad? To make up for New Year's Eve."

"Fine. I won't go."

"You're the best, Mom."

***

Mom woke me at the crack of dawn by opening the curtains in my room to let the glaring light attack me.

"Mom," I screeched, burrowing under the covers. "What did I do to deserve this?"

"We are going to have a girls' day out," she announced.

"Today?" I asked. Every few months, my mother and I went shopping together, got haircuts, and had lunch. We left Dad with the boys. We hadn't been in months, and I had been hoping she wouldn't notice. I didn't know if I could pull off "normal" all day under that kind of scrutiny.

"Someone needs a dress, and I happen to be an excellent shopper."

A dress? A dress for the dance. "Oh, seriously, Mom? I don't think I have the energy for this today."

"Enough with the drama, Natalie. We are going, and we are going to have fun. The right dress is just what you need to boost your confidence."

"What time is it anyway?" I shoved back the covers.

"It's nine. The malls open in an hour."

"We don't need to be there when they open, Mom. It's not like there is going to be a run on dresses or something."

Mom put her hands on her hips but she was smiling. "We aren't looking for just any dress. We are going to find the perfect dress. This may take all day."

Please tell me she's kidding. "All day?"

"Plus we are getting shoes to match the dress."

Matching shoes? How many hours would that take? "It isn't the prom for goodness sakes."

"And we are going to let Victor style your hair. I think something special for the dance."

"Not the prom." Black dress. Black shoes would be easy and we'd be in and out in an hour.

"Now quit your whining and get dressed. We are going to have a blast!"

## Chapter Four

We hit our fourth shopping mall after lunch. I was wearing down quickly. I was tired, hungry, and overwhelmed by the crowds. Everywhere we went, I heard the pulsing of dozens of hearts and I was weary of fighting the craving.

"I've heard great things about the selection of dresses at this location."

Blah. Blah. Blah.

"Mom, that last dress was fine. I think we should just go back and get it."

Mom stopped walking. Put her hands on my shoulders, stared me in the eyes, and said, "We will not admit defeat."

"It's not a war. It's a dance."

"You have the cutest figure, Natalie. I wish you would realize it. You are always hiding under those baggy clothes."

Great. This speech again. I hated this one.

Mom was still lecturing when we walked through the jewelry section of the department store, dodging the aggressive perfume peddlers, and heading for the junior department.

"Bluh," she said. "She sprayed that in my mouth. It's rancid."

"Shouldn't have had your mouth open," I said.

"Not funny."

We reached the dresses, and I braced myself for another round of arguing and trying on.

"Mom, can we just give up?"

"No, we cannot. If you want to save time, you should just let me pick and then try them on without wasting time arguing."

"Oh, please."

"At least lift your restrictions. I can't work with dark colors, high neck, and long sleeves."

"Fine. I'll try on ten dresses. Pick them yourself."

Mom clapped her hands with glee. The woman was insane. How could this be fun for anyone?

I went toward the black dresses on a rack in the corner. Unfortunately, they were all way too flashy. I wasn't comfortable in skin tight, and I hated having my boobs practically hanging out. The gauzy black sleeves on some of the dresses may have been intended to make the dresses more modest. Instead, the gauze made them uglier. Maybe I should look in the women's section. They had to have something there that wouldn't leave me hanging out there for all to see.

"Ten dresses," Mom said, startling me by sneaking up behind me.

Her arms were full when I turned around. I glanced down to see something with white sequins. "Aww, Mom."

"You promised." She strode toward the dressing room with her armful of dresses. "I get to see each one on you. No exceptions."

Mom hung her selections in the dressing room and backed out. "I'll be right here."

Dear Lord. Let me survive this, I thought to myself.

I closed the door, sliding the flimsy bolt lock. Then I finally paid attention to the dresses. I was famished, and a piece of blood red fabric immediately attracted my attention. I flipped through the dresses to find the red one. I pulled it out and held it against my cheek. The color moved something in me. Something besides my appetite. I wanted it.

I held the dress up to the light. The style of the dress was not too bad. It wasn't conservative, and I knew it wouldn't be baggy. I hoped my mother couldn't read my mind because I wanted to try this on. I didn't want her to know. I would never admit to liking this dress.

I pulled off my hoodie and slipped off my jeans. The silky fabric of the dress slid easily over my head and down my body. I blinked as I saw myself in the mirror.

I was stunning. The color complimented my skin tone perfectly, and the fit emphasized the swell of my breasts. The result wasn't sleazy. It was flattering. The dress hugged my stomach and somehow made it look flat and emphasized the curve of my hips. I was actually hot.

I turned from side to side, excited to see the swishing of the skirt. The hemline hit about four inches above my knees. I had smokin' legs in this dress. The thing was a miracle.

"Natalie, remember your promise," Mom chided from outside. "I get to see every one of them."

I opened the dressing room door and stepped out.

Mom stared, and her jaw dropped. She raised her hands to her face, and tears actually formed in her eyes.

I stood there and grinned.

"I just...I can't...You look..."

Holy crap! My mother was actually speechless.

"My beautiful girl," she said, and rushed forward to hug me.

"Mom," I said, tearing up myself, "you're crushing the dress."

She jumped back. Then she whipped out her cell phone and started snapping pictures of me in the dress. And for once, I didn't mind getting my picture taken.

"Now take it off and hang it up. We are going to find the perfect shoes."

"I can't walk in heels," I said.

"You can do anything you put your mind to," she snapped.

"You are supposed to use that one on medical school, or at least honors calculus. Not shoes."

"Whatever," she said. "The theory holds true."

We found the shoes quickly. A classic pair of black pumps with a cute little strappy detail. I would definitely need practice.

When Mom had paid for the shoes, I smiled. "We're finished!"

"Not exactly," she said. "You forgot the hair."

I didn't know if I could make it through a cut and style. Someone leaning so close to me with that tantalizing blood running through their veins.

I tried desperately to talk my mother out of it as we drove through Atlanta traffic. She would not listen to reason.

"Why would you want to stop after all the success we've had today?"

My stomach growled.

"Oh, Natalie. You're just hungry. We'll grab a snack. A snack will get you through."

A snack. Right. I needed two quarts of the red stuff, and I needed it fast. I could have slapped myself upside the head for my stupidity. The Johnsons' could bring me a snack. Matt would do it, and if he couldn't, his parents would.

While my mother was loading the shopping bag into the car, I texted "911" to Matt.

My phone rang a millisecond later. "Where are you? Are they still alive? How bad is it?"

"What?" I wasn't following.

"You bit someone?"

"Oh, God, no! I'm just ravenous, and my mother will not stop our shopping day. I'm afraid I'm going to lose it."

"Natalie, you scared me to death! I thought it was a real emergency."

Mom was motioning for me to get in the car.

"I can't talk. I need food. Bring me something at the V salon if you can. I'm on the edge here!" I clicked end and climbed into the car.

"I can't wait to see what Victor does with your hair." My mother loved this stuff.

"Yay," I said weakly.

***

My hair had been washed and cut, and I was bracing myself for the next hour of drying and styling.

"Maybe we should try with an updo and with it down. You could style it twice," Mom said to Victor.

I'm pretty sure I whimpered.

Victor nodded. "I could do that, if you wait for me to do Mrs. Mashburn before we start the second."

Somebody had to save me. I was never going to survive this day.

"Excuse me, Victor," the shampoo girl said. "Somebody dropped this off for your clients."

She held a cardboard drink carrier with two large fast food cups.

"Oh, thank God!" I leapt out of the chair, sending wet hair clippings flying. I took the carrier from the girl, and lowered my face to the straw on the cup marked with my name. I sucked that chocolate milkshake down so fast, I had brain-freeze, but I didn't stop.

"Natalie!" My mother exclaimed with hands on her hips. "That was rude. Who on earth dropped those off for us?"

The slurping noise signaled the end of my much-needed meal. I set the carrier on the countertop and pulled my mother's shake out. "Here's yours," I said. Then I climbed back into the chair.

Mom, the shampoo girl, and Victor stared at me like I had three heads.

Not a problem for me. I didn't care what they thought. I was finally full. The craving was subsiding and I actually had the strength to smile at everyone. "Let's do this thang," I said.

Victor, never one to miss an opportunity, said, "You go girl!" With that rallying cry, he got back to work on my hair.

In the mirror, I saw a reflection of the window at the front of the store. For a few seconds, Matt stood there watching me. I could barely make out his lopsided grin. Then he was gone, but I couldn't help grinning too.

I had it pretty bad for that boy. I knew I shouldn't. I knew he was just a friend, but I still hoped. I could lie to myself, but I knew the truth. I wanted him to notice me as a girl. No, a woman. I wondered how many miracles that red dress could work. I'd opened hundreds of generic, cheap Valentine's cards in elementary school while other girls opened boxes of chocolate. Last year, I'd watch delivery after delivery of red carnations to the girls in my classes. Was a real Valentine too much to hope for this year?

***

When Matt climbed through my window that night, I ran over to give him a hug. I almost knocked him over.

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!" I squeezed him tight. Then I let go and let him regain his balance.

"What was that for?" he asked. "I'm not complaining, but I don't remember doing anything to deserve that kind of enthusiasm."

"You saved me this afternoon," I said. "I was so close to either taking a bite of somebody or running out in front of a bus."

"So I'm a hero?" he asked. "Maybe you should hug me again." He held out his arms, and I hugged him again.

This time, when I started to pull away, his arms tightened around me.

I giggled and swatted at his back. "Stop messing around," I said. Then I looked up into his eyes and the laughing stopped. "Oh."

Desire. I hadn't seen desire in a guy's eyes before, but I knew this must be it. I swallowed nervously, and then Matt's eyes were back to normal. Shuttered and private.

He cleared his throat and released me.

I sat on the side of my bed. Matt sat next to me and took my hand in his. "Natalie, do you want to go to the dance with me?"

"Yes," I admitted.

"Good," he said. "Because I want to take you."

Then he stood, pulled two bottles out of his jacket, set them on my nightstand, and said, "Set these on the window sill, and I'll come back for them." He left through the window.

I had to wait a minute to drink my dinner because drinking through a water bottle is really difficult when you are smiling so big.

I had total confidence in my little red dress. Valentine's day was Tuesday. I didn't have long to wait. I was going to go all out. I was going to do my nails and lips in red. Mom had some pretty crystal jewelry that would be perfect. When I closed my eyes, I could see myself in the dress. I couldn't wait to see Matt's reaction.

***

I bumbled through Sunday with my parents and brothers. The Johnsons were visiting Matt's grandmother and they'd left me some synthetic powder packets under a rock in the back yard. I waited until my mother was busy chasing my brothers, and I snuck out to retrieve them. I drank them in a bottle of water, alone in my room. What if Matt decided to start dropping the powder in my yard on a regular basis? What would I do if I couldn't see him every night?

***

I had dinner with the Johnsons on Monday night. His mother was ridiculously excited about the Valentine dance. You'd have thought she was going.

"What are wearing, Natalie? I cannot wait to see it. I bet you will look beautiful."

"Mom made me buy a jacket and tie," Matt grumbled.

I kicked his calf. "I shopped all day."

He rubbed his shin and shot me a wounded look. "I brought you refreshments, remember."

"Oh, right." I smiled. "I take it back."

"It's a little too late for that."

"We got a red tie," his mother interrupted. "Will that work, or will we need to get another color?"

"Red will work," I admitted.

"You know I wouldn't wear a monkey suit for just anybody."

"It's not even a suit. You said it was a jacket."

"Same difference."

"What are you guys doing for Valentine's?" I asked his parents. "Anything special?"

"Not really. I guess we'll go out another night this week."

"The dance only lasts until nine-thirty," I said. "We could babysit and you could go out for a late dinner."

"Good idea," his father said with a glance at Mrs. Johnson. "What do you think?"

"We'll discuss it," she said.

"It's very kind of you to offer, Natalie," his father said.

"Fool," Matt whispered. "Have you forgotten what she's like?"

I shook my head. "You'll be here too. I think we can handle it."

"I'm on strike," he said. "I'll just sit and watch you deal with her."

"Fine, Matt," his sister said with a smirk. "Me and Natalie are on the girls' team. So you are the one who will suffer."

"Enough arguing, kids," Mr. Johnson said.

"You're on my team," Matt whispered.

"Maybe this isn't a good idea," Mrs. Johnson said.

"We'll discuss it," her husband said. Then, he winked at me, and I knew we were definitely babysitting.

"She goes to bed at nine on a school night," Matt told me on the ride home. "She'll be asleep."

"Thank God!"

"That was nice of you. My parents probably need some time alone."

He pulled up in front of my house, and I opened the door.

"You do realize that they aren't the only ones who will have some alone time tomorrow, don't you?" His evil leer sent me running from the car.

Time alone? I couldn't wait.

School lasted forever on Tuesday. I wasn't the only one who couldn't concentrate. Most of the teachers gave up on trying to teach and focused on keeping us quiet.

When they called me to the office at two, I didn't care how much trouble I was in. I was just glad for a distraction.

I was surprised to see my mother standing in the office. "I'm checking you out," she said. "We're getting your hair done."

"We are? You didn't tell me."

"I thought you'd argue."

"Just spring me from this place before I go nuts."

Mom put her arm around my shoulders. "Finally, the quiescent daughter I've always dreamed of."

"No need to be snarky, Mom."

"Back to the plan. Are we going with the hair up or down?"

"I want it lavender and styled like Katy Perry's."

"Who?" Mom asked.

"Never mind." My mother was hopeless.

***

When we got to the salon, I took control. "I'll go with the updo, but only half as big as the last time. Up but not so do."

Mom gave me a frown, but she didn't protest.

"Sounds like a plan," Victor said. "One scaled-down updo."

I almost winked at my reflection in the mirror. I was proud of myself.

Then Mom said, "After this, Lily is doing your nails and lips. Red to match the dress."

The girl in the mirror mouthed a cussword.

Two hours later, I was released from salon hell. My nails and lips were the color of my dress, and I actually loved my hair. Since I still had jeans on, I looked a little silly as we walked to my mother's car.

"You must eat before you put your dress on," Mom said. "You can't risk dropping something on it."

"I could just eat red stuff. Then if I spilled, it wouldn't be a big deal." Blood was red. Blood matched the dress. I could eat blood. My stomach growled.

My mother glanced over and laughed. "I guess we should run through a drive-thru."

I didn't want to spend the evening with my stomach full of heavy food that I couldn't even digest. "No, it's okay. I'll just eat something at home."

With a shrug, my mother said, "Suit yourself. Just as long as I have time for pictures when Matt picks you up."

"Pictures? Did you find your camera?" We'd hidden her camera because she couldn't figure out how to work it. On Christmas day, we'd spent hours of torture, and she'd only gotten twenty photos.

My mother snorted. "I know you guys took it. I may be completely incapable of operating that thing, but I'm not an idiot."

"Oh." I had really hoped we had won that battle.

"You can cheer up. I'm letting your brother take the pictures."

I cringed. "Brother? Which brother?"

"It's under control."

"Mom!"

"You heard me. It's under control."

"Where are you and Dad going?"

"We haven't decided for sure. I have a few reservations though."

She started naming off every fancy restaurant in Atlanta, and I reclined my seat and relaxed for the rest of the ride.

"Don't crush your hair!" she snapped.

With a jerk, I lifted my head from the seat. "I got it," I said. "Not crushing."

***

Alone in my room, I started to freak out about the dance. I had nothing to do except put on my dress and shoes and wait for the doorbell to ring. As I struggled to breathe more slowly, I thought about the bad things that could happen if I flat out panicked. I could lose control.

Calm down. I am going to a dance in a high school gym that is covered with hearts cut out of construction paper. A stinky, smelly gym. A place where people dripped sweat all over the floor. My heart rate slowed. I could almost breathe.

As for Matt, he was not my dream date. He wasn't even my Valentine. He was just a guy who felt like he had to take care of me. At best, he was a friend. My friend. Not a boyfriend. Not a date.

Guy who had to bring me food. Dance in smelly gym sock central.

No big deal. I could handle this non-event. No biggie. I knew better than to expect a decent Valentine's.

I showered as quickly as I could to wash away the cooties from a day at school. I had to get in and out fast enough to avoid too much humidity near my hair. Then I put on deodorant and slipped on underclothes and my new dress. I slid my feet into my fab shoes and spent a good ten minutes admiring myself in the mirror.

I practiced posing and blowing kisses. What? I hardly ever wore a dress.

I was holding my hand out for an imaginary suitor to kiss when a knock at the window scared me into falling off my shoes. I grabbed the bed to pull myself up from the floor. I smoothed my dress, put my right shoe back on, and went to the window.

Matt, of course.

"What are you doing up here?"

He climbed in, careful to keep his suit intact. "You look gorgeous."

"I do?" Geez. I was such a dork.

"Yes."

He had the most beautiful red tie and the jacket emphasized his shoulders. "You don't look so bad yourself," I said. "I think you were supposed to come in through the front door."

His lopsided grin made my heart thump. "I thought you might need a snack."

I glanced around. "Where? Yes. I do."

He leaned out the window and pulled in his backpack. "I thought it would be a good idea for both of us before heading to the dance."

"Nothing like hearts beating to music in a room drenched in red."

"Speaking of red," he took a moment to let his eyes roam over me. "You are stunning."

In this dress, I had the confidence to enjoy his perusal. "You just like the dress."

He actually chuckled. "I like a lot more than just the dress."

Heat rose in my cheeks, and I had to look down at the floor.

I could sense him smiling at me again. He opened his backpack and handed me my snack.

He held out his bottle. I risked looking into his eyes.

"To Valentine's Day," he said.

I smiled, and then I tapped my bottle against his. We drained our respective snacks in silence.

Matt screwed the cap back on his bottle. Then he reached for my empty bottle. He stowed them in his backpack. "It's time for me to go down and ring the doorbell."

"Right. I can't wait for you to see my dress."

He actually leered at me before hopping back through the window.

## Chapter Five

We did fine with the doorbell, greeting, photo-taking, and saying bye to the parents. Matt helped me into my coat.

In just moments, we were out the door. Matt offered me his arm. I rested my hand on his arm, and we walked down the sidewalk.

My heart soared with excitement. I had lost my grip on the cold reality of this dance. I had let myself pretend we were on a real date. I wanted more than friendship, and I'd actually begun to believe in the possibility. My crush on Matt was evolving into love, and I wasn't going to escape with my heart intact.

On the drive to school, I caught Matt checking out my legs. The coat and dress had crept up some when I'd climbed in the car. I hadn't meant to show so much thigh, but I wasn't exactly upset about it. All the practice with the heels had been totally worth it. Climbing Mt. Everest might have been easier, but still worth it.

I pictured Matt helping me out of the car when we got to the school. He'd sneak another glance at my legs. I grinned. Then I stopped.

How was I going to get out of the car without flashing him my underwear? I had to swivel to the side, step out with one leg, then the other. My dress and coat would ride up even further. I'd shaved my legs, plucked my brows, and gone with full makeup for tonight. All that work, and I was going to flash my undies at him. Being a girl was impossibly hard!

"You okay?" Matt asked and interrupted my thoughts. "You look kind of stressed."

I hadn't realized I was grimacing. I willed my features back into a serene façade. "I'm fine." I could hear the strain in my voice.

"You sound fine," he said with obvious sarcasm.

Great. Now he thought I was being grumpy. "I'm sorry. I was stressing about something silly. It's nothing."

He didn't answer, and I was afraid he didn't understand.

"It's a fashion thing."

Still nothing.

"I'm not used to wearing a dress."

"You didn't have to if it was such a problem."

"Don't get insulted. I don't mean it like that." Relationships were such a pain.

"I'm not insulted. I know you didn't want to go to the dance with me."

"Matt! That's not true." I threw my hands up in the air. "Fine. I was stressing because I don't think I can get back out of the car politely. And by politely I mean that I can't do it without flashing my panties." Horror crawled from my stomach up to my throat. Did I really just say that? To Matt?!

Matt's silence filled the car louder than any noise. Then he started shaking.

I stared at him afraid of what was happening.

His first bellowing laugh made me jump. He laughed harder and harder. He guided the car into an empty parking lot and put it in park. Then he really let loose with the laughing.

Anger and humiliation replaced the horror. "Are you making fun of me?" I demanded.

He held up his hand as he shook with laughter. Finally he started to regain control. "I'm sorry," he said, gasping for breath. "I didn't mean to laugh. I'm not making fun of you." He reached over and took my hand in his. "You surprised me. You always do. I never know what you will say or do."

"I guess I'm weird, but I don't ever know how to act around you."

"Not true." He shook his hand. "You know exactly how to act around me."

"I do?"

With a small nod, he lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it. "I always have fun with you."

I grinned at him like a fool.

He set my hand down on my leg and said, "We need to get to the dance."

"You just want to watch me get out of the car."

He smiled. "Maybe."

***

Once we parked, Matt opened the door, offered his hand, and turned his head away so that I could extract myself from the vehicle without him seeing anything.

"Who knew you could be such a gentleman," I said.

"I'm an idiot," he said. "Next time, I'm looking."

"In your dreams," I teased.

"Yeah," he said. He slammed the door. Then he took my hand in his and squeezed it as we walked into the school.

"Slow down a little, Matt," I said. "Heels."

"Oh, right." He slowed his pace as he stared down at my shoes. "You have great legs."

The gym had been transformed by millions of yards of white and red paper. I didn't mind the occasional whiff of rubber ball and old socks. Matt hung up my coat.

"I promised my mother we'd get a picture," Matt said. Eyeing the line for the photographer, he said, "I shouldn't have."

"A promise is a promise," I said, counting the couples in line. We would be there forever. "We could just eat them all."

He nodded solemnly. "It's an idea. We probably would only have to eat a couple of them. The rest would run in terror."

"Would we have time to dance before the police got here?"

"Maybe a little while. Of course, we'd also lose the photographer."

I sighed. "I guess we'll just have to wait our turn."

He put his arm around my waist to guide me to the line, and I hoped he would keep it there. He did.

We stood in the line between two couples I had never laid eyes on. I took advantage of the chance to lean into him. He didn't move away, and his arm tightened around me.

When our turn finally came, I wasn't ready to lose the contact of his touch.

Luckily, the photographer had us pose with his arms around me. I looked into his eyes as the photographer snapped the picture. I got kind of lost in their blue depths.

"Next," the photographer called. I snapped back to reality.

"I guess we're done," Matt said. "Do you want some punch before we dance?"

"No."

"We are dancing, aren't we?"

"Of course. I think." I'd never danced before. "Do you know how?"

He nodded as we walked to the edge of the dancers. Then he stopped and turned toward me. "I put my hands here." He set them on my hips. "You put yours around my neck."

I did.

"Then you move closer to me."

I nudged closer.

"And we just move together."

I gave him a doubtful look.

"Which will be easier if you lean into me."

"Lean?"

He nodded.

I pressed up against him.

"Better?"

"Mmmmm," I said.

He moved, and we were dancing.

The world melted away. Instead of the foul odors, I only inhaled Matt. He smelled delicious.

"Natalie," he said. "Are you glad you came with me?"

Nodding against his shoulder, I said, "I am. Thank you for bringing me."

"I wanted to."

I lifted my head in surprise. "You did?"

"Yes. I wanted to ask you long before your mother mentioned it."

"Seriously?"

"I didn't because I didn't want you to feel like you had to say you'd come. I didn't want you to think you owed me anything for... I didn't want you to think you had to agree or I'd stop bringing you food."

"I would never think that. I know you wouldn't let me starve."

"You didn't act like you wanted to come with me."

"I did."

"You keep calling me your friend."

"You are my friend."

"Can I audition for any other role in your life? Like boyfriend?"

Could this be real or..."Is this just because you feel bad about what your sister did to me?"

"No. It's because I like you. Do you feel the same way, or not? This would have been so much easier by text."

Joy swept through me. "Will you be my boyfriend?"

He stopped swaying. "I would love to."

"Are you going to kiss me now?"

He lowered his lips to mine, and finally, finally, kissed me.

I was just starting to get the hang of kissing him back when I heard a throat clearing beside me.

The principal scowled at us. "Romantic holiday or not, we don't allow public displays of affection on school grounds."

I wanted to bite him.

"Yes, sir." Matt had the presence of mind to be polite.

The man nodded and walked away.

"Let's ask him to babysit Ashley," I said.

"Then we'd be stuck with him forever."

"Not if we didn't save him."

Matt touched his forehead to mine. "You know you would save him. You can pretend you're heartless, but I know the truth."

"What truth?"

"That you are a beautiful, smart, sexy woman who loves her family and cares about people."

"You haven't known me long enough to be sure."

"If you didn't care, you wouldn't have made it this long without hurting somebody."

"And the other stuff?"

"Other stuff?"

"The beautiful, sexy part?"

"Don't you have mirrors in your house?" He kissed my neck. "You're beautiful." He kissed my ear. "You're sexy." Then my lips. "You're hot."

We danced for song after song.

A vibrating sensation pulsed through my hip. My head was fuzzy with happiness, but the sensation was out of place.

"My phone," he said. "I set the alarm so we'd be in time to babysit."

"We have to leave already?"

"Yeah." He winked at me. "We'll be alone at my house for hours."

"Alone with your sister."

"No parents. Much kissing. You and me together."

"Let's go."

***

"She's in bed," his mother said.

"Pretending to be asleep," his father added.

"As soon as we leave, she'll be down here bothering you," Mrs. Johnson said.

Mr. Johnson helped her into her coat. Then he waited patiently as she put on her gloves. She picked up her purse.

"Got your phone?" she asked.

Mr. Johnson patted his leather jacket. "Got it."

"We have late dinner reservations," Mrs. Johnson said. "I know you want to do this with Matt, but if you need to leave for any reason, I left cab money on the desk in the library."

"I won't need to leave," I said.

"Surely not," Mr. Johnson agreed.

"We left some A-positive cocktails in the kitchen for you."

My stomach rumbled.

"Ashley already had her blood for the day. Don't let her sweet talk you. She can have synthetic if she's hungry," Mrs. Johnson said. "And your father downloaded some romantic music in case you didn't get enough dancing at the school."

"Go, already," Matt said. "We've got this."

"Don't beat your sister," his dad said, one last instruction as they went out the door.

"He meant me, I think. You still can," Matt said.

"Maybe she won't come down."

"Ha!" Matt said.

"Ha!" Ashley repeated as she reached the bottom step.

Yay, I thought to myself.

"What are we going to do, guys?" she asked. "Want to watch cartoons?"

"Not a good idea, Ash. They have adult content this time of night."

"We could play Monopoly."

I hadn't played in a while, but I remembered how long a game could take. "Let's watch one of your movies," I suggested.

Matt groaned.

"Trust me," I whispered.

Ashley was already rushing over to her gigantic collection of movies. "Which one do you want, Natalie?"

"Well," I said slowly. "We are supposed to be on the girls' team, right? So pick something girly."

"Hey!" Matt said.

"I've got it!" Ashley jumped up, clutching a DVD, and grinning at us. "You're going to love this, Matt."

"How bad is it?" Matt asked. "What did you pick?"

"You'll see," she taunted. "First, you have to sit down on the couch."

Matt and I walked around to the front of the couch and sat down. He squeezed my hand.

Ashley loaded the disk into the tray. Then she ran over to stand in front of us.

"What?" Matt asked when she just stared at us.

"Move," she said, motioning with her arms to part us. "I sit in the middle."

Before we could protest, she wedged herself in. We moved apart, and she slid off our legs and onto the sofa.

Then she hit the remote, and the movie of the night was unveiled.

iCarly: iSaved Your Life.

"Oh, man," Matt said.

"Nice choice," I said, and I gave her a fist bump.

"Girl's rule," Ashley said.

"Hey, Ash," Matt said. "If you guys are going to do the girl thing, can I at least sit next to Natalie?"

"No way," she said.

Darn.

"Five bucks?" Matt asked, holding the bill out in front of her.

"Done," she said, grabbing it and stuffing it in her pocket. Then she hopped up and plopped back down on the other side of me.

After squashing me in middle, both of them demanded my attention. Ashley chattered and told me to "watch" any time I turned toward her brother. Matt held my hand and traced little circles with his finger until I thought I would die if I couldn't kiss him.

After about twenty minutes, Ashley scooted toward the end of the sofa and curled up with her head on the pillow. Matt took advantage of the extra space. He put his arm around me, and I leaned into him.

"Now, this is cozy," he whispered.

I turned to answer, but, instead, I found my lips almost touching his.

Then they were touching, and we were kissing. Yeah, this was cozy.

Ashley cleared her throat.

We ignored her.

"I can hear your gross kissing noises!" she said.

Matt stopped long enough to growl, "Then go upstairs!"

"No!" she squealed.

He kissed me again.

"Gross!" she said. Then she hit the volume on the remote.

The movie blared at a ridiculous level. I didn't care, and neither did Matt.

For the first time in a long time, I was thinking about something other than blood. I was thinking about Matt, and his lips on mine, and his warm hand on my back.

My temperature had risen about ten degrees and my pulse was beating fast when the movie noise stopped suddenly.

I pulled away from Matt, struggling to focus on the room around me. "Ashley?" I turned toward her. "What's up?"

"You missed the whole movie," she pouted, arms crossed.

"I did?" I checked the clock next to the mantel. I really did.

"Don't try to make her feel bad, Ash. It was my fault," Matt said.

"I know!" She hopped up and got another DVD.

Matt groaned and pulled out a ten dollar bill.

"No," she said. "This time you watch it or I'll tell Mom you guys were kissing."

Matt sighed and tucked the bill back in his pocket. "Fine, but you go to bed in thirty minutes."

"Deal," she said. Then she motioned for us to move apart.

With a groan, Matt complied.

I smiled at the antics. In my house, one of my brothers would just start beating on the other.

Ashley started the DVD, and I started counting down the thirty minutes.

True to her word, Ashley hugged me goodnight, scowled at her brother, and ran up the stairs half an hour later.

"Is she really going to bed or will she spy on us?"

Matt put his arm around me. "I can't guarantee that she won't upload footage of us kissing to YouTube first thing tomorrow. Personally, I'm okay with that."

For about half a second, I considered the situation. "I'm fine with it, too."

He looked more like a wolf on the hunt than a vampire in his living room as he leaned in to kiss me.

Matt's tongue stroked mine, and I realized I was hopelessly in love.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered.

"It's the dress," I said.

"It's not the dress," he said, and he kissed my neck. "The dress is amazing, but it isn't the dress."

I nibbled on his neck with little kisses, and he groaned.

"Stay here forever," he said. "We'll drop out of school and spend all of our time kissing."

I laughed as he took my mouth with his again.

Then the purr of a car engine pulling into the driveway spurred Matt to action.

He jumped up. "Go sit at the table. I'll grab some snacks."

When his parents came in, we were sitting at the table, sipping on some bottles of synthetic. Matt was a hundred miles away across the table.

"Thank you, Natalie. Thank you, Matt," his mother said. "We had a wonderful time."

Mr. Johnson helped her out of her coat and then hung both coats in the closet. "What have you guys been up to?"

I wasn't sure I could speak. I hadn't pulled my mind or body out of the blissful state Matt had put me in with those kisses.

"We've been watching movies with Ashley," Matt told them.

"Oh dear," his mother said. "We were hoping you had some time for teenage things."

I tried not to laugh as Matt glanced my way.

"We'll go to a movie we like some other night," he said.

His father frowned.

"Let's go check on our daughter," his mother said.

We watched as they went up the stairs.

I had drained my bottle, and so had Matt. "I'll throw these away," I said, taking his. I headed into the kitchen.

Matt followed.

I opened the recycle bin and disposed of the plastic.

When I turned, Matt was right next to me. He tugged me toward him.

"What are you doing?" I whispered. "Your parents will be back any minute."

"And I'll be kissing you," he said, wrapping his arms around me.

"They'll see us!"

"It's okay. It's Valentine's."

"I'm not sure that excuse will work for them."

He lowered his mouth to my ear. "Kiss me, Natalie."

I couldn't argue with him anymore because his lips were on mine, and I couldn't stop myself from kissing him back.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I heard footsteps enter the room and then retreat. Then more footsteps.

"Oh! Thank goodness," his mother said.

No longer able to ignore them, Matt pulled away.

I turned to look at his parents. They were beaming at us. Shouldn't they be shocked, or irritated, or at least teasing us about the kissing?

"Uh, Mom. Did you just say 'Thank goodness'?" Matt asked.

"We were so worried," his father answered.

I shook my head. Worried? "You were worried because we were kissing or because we weren't?"

"Because you weren't. Because you said you were just friends," his mother said.

"You nurtured her through her transition, Matt. We didn't tell you the whole truth. You and Natalie are mated."

Mated?

"If you hadn't been attracted to each other, it would have meant misery for both of you. You don't get a second chance."

I was only fifteen, but I loved him. Joy swept through me. But Matt. What would he think?

I turned to him, my stomach churning, to see if he shared my feelings.

"Matt?" I said.

He didn't answer. He just pulled me close again and kissed me senseless.

Maybe Valentine's Day doesn't suck after all.

**Author's Note** : Thank you for downloading this short novella. As noted in the retail description, this novella is approximately 62 pages long or 16,000 words. Keep reading for a sample of _Stirring Up Trouble_ , a novel currently available at all major retailers.

## Stirring Up Trouble Excerpt

### Chapter One

"Mom! What did you do?" I screeched, my eyes immediately drawn to the giant wart she'd sprouted from her chin. I flung my overloaded backpack at the kitchen table, but it missed and hit the slate floor with a thud.

"Hi, Zoe," Mom said. From her perch on a stool at the kitchen island, she continued to search through one of our massive dusty potion books. Each time she turned a page, a small mushroom-shaped cloud of dust rose toward the copper pots hanging on their rack above the island. Finally she paused, looked at me, and sighed. "I had a little trouble today while you were at school."

"Obviously." I retrieved my bag from the floor, set it on a stool and moved in for a closer look. So much for predictable. "That's super nasty." My mom was pretty, usually. Normally, I felt lucky to take after her instead of Dad.

"Thanks." She finally closed the book and met my gaze. "I did my hips. Just a little bit here and there." She stood and modeled her new figure. She had on her skinny jeans with a white blouse, and she looked good.

I glanced down at my own jeans, my second favorite pair. They weren't as loose as I'd like either.

"Oh my God, Mom. You know not to do that." And she did. Or should have. Now look at her face!

"I know, but I had the potion ingredients, and I really wanted to get rid of those five pounds." She sat on the stool and tossed her long brunette hair into her face to hide her chin. "Do you think anyone will notice if I wear my hair like this?"

"Yeah!" I put my hands on my slightly over padded hips. "Have you learned nothing from Oprah?" Mom was a huge Oprah fan. "There are no shortcuts to weight loss."

"I know." She sighed again and flipped her hair back out of her face, smoothing it with her hands. "It's just that, well, there should be some sort of benefits to being witches."

"Well, there aren't any benefits," I said. "And now you've got that horrific wart to get rid of. When does your show start taping again?" She hosts a very popular home decorating show on HGTV. I really didn't think her audience would like her new look.

"Two weeks." Mom reached for her purse and withdrew a compact. The wart glared in the soft glow from the afternoon light filtering through the bay window.

"You know what you have to do." I walked to the fridge and grabbed a cold Coke.

"Yes." Mom nodded, poking at her chin. "I went to the Alchemist's chat room. It looks like maybe a hundred hours of volunteer time."

The wart was so ugly that I almost felt sorry for her. "Well, get busy." I pulled up a stool and popped open the can.

When Zeus (yes, I do mean the ancient Greek god) gave my alchemist ancestors the gift of potions, he included the limits he bestowed on most magical gifts. Every self-serving potion detracted from our appearance. If we were to keep going, we'd lose our health and eventually our lives. Thus, the tradition of green skinned, ugly, wart-covered witches. Luckily, my non-magic dad had always viewed potions as another sort of chemistry. He'd always minimized the magic aspect because it wasn't rational.

Mom typically had good self-control, but the divorce had been tough on her. Now, she'd have to spend the next two weeks doing some intense volunteer work in order to get rid of the wart.

I took a sip of my Coke. "You do realize," I said in a chiding tone, "that you could have worked off those five pounds in a lot less than a hundred hours." I mean sometimes you just have to say it like it is.

Mom frowned, dejection in her eyes as she put down the compact and looked at me. "I know."

"And have we learned our lesson?" I asked, forcing her to meet my gaze.

"Yes." She grimaced and reached for the glass of iced tea sweating on the counter. September is still hot in Tennessee.

Mom could be so utterly ridiculous. She obviously looked good, or she wouldn't be hosting a show on national television. No one even noticed five measly pounds on her hips.

"How'd your day go?" she asked.

"Okay," I said.

"Are Anya and Jake still broken up?" Mom knew I had a crush on my best friend's boyfriend.

Sad but true. "Yeah. I think Anya likes Brad Griffith now." I realized I was kicking the island and stopped before Mom noticed.

"So, are you going to do anything about it?" Her eyes narrowed and her gaze grew sharp.

"No." I glanced down at my Coke, rubbing the condensation from the can. "I mean I can't. How could I? Anya would kill me if she knew I'd been secretly in love with Jake for years. And Jake just sees me as a friend, or worse, as Anya's friend."

I didn't much like seeing pity in the eyes of a woman with a wart the size of Mt. Everest on her chin.

"Our family is known for our love potions, and here you are desperately in need of one and you can't do it."

I'd been through this a hundred times in my mind. I shook my head. "I'd need a love potion and a forgiveness potion to give Anya. I'm looking at a month or so to work off whatever ugliness results, and I'd have to drop out of school to get the volunteer work done."

There were some pretty harsh rules for that too. Mom and I saw a "Friends" episode where Joey tells Phoebe there aren't any selfless good deeds, and boy did that statement hit home. Our volunteer work has to be something we derive no benefit from. Like, if it would look good on my college applications, then it won't work for me. Basically, since any work experience would help a teen, I'd be stuck cleaning toilets at a halfway house or something.

That is precisely why I would never succumb to the temptation of a self-serving potion. Being fifteen sucked bad enough as it was. Well, I had fallen into that trap before. When I was nine, I had to get glasses. Of course, I would have done anything not to be called four eyes, which, while totally unoriginal, is still around. I had just watched Pinocchio at the time, and my nose grew like I was the lying wooden puppet. I didn't have to get glasses, but Mom had to home school me for a month.

"You can't drop out of school," Mom said. She propped her chin in her hand, groaned when she felt the wart, and put her arm back on the counter. "But if Anya dates someone else, can't you ask Jake out?"

"Without a courage potion?" Was she crazy? "No way. Besides, Anya could be married with six kids and she'd still hate me for dating Jake." Luckily, Anya was a great friend and worth the sacrifice. It's just when I thought of kissing Jake that I started to wonder. Well, okay, lately, I hadn't been as convinced that she was worth the sacrifice. She'd changed, and I'd changed, and we just weren't as close as we used to be.

"I guess I'm not the person to be giving advice on love right now." Mom sighed and reached for her glass of iced tea.

My steady, dependable dad had suddenly left her for another woman last year. Then the other woman dumped him, but he had a new girlfriend, and I think she had something to do with Mom's sudden desire for slimmer hips. "I have to meet her this weekend." I knew my voice conveyed my disgust.

Mom knew what I meant. She tried not to badmouth Dad, but I knew it wasn't easy. "Try to give her a chance," she said with a commiserating smile. "Who knows, you might actually like her."

"Oh, I know." I'd hated his other girlfriend, and not just because she was a home-wrecker but because she was a truly horrid human being.

It really wasn't fair to spend my time worrying about my parents' love lives when I was supposed to be focusing on my own. I was the teenager after all. They were, like, forty and supposed to be done with all this stuff.

"I guess I'll rock AIDS babies in the hospital nursery," Mom said, eyeing the wart again in her compact.

"But, Mom. That always depresses you." Although looking in the mirror would also depress her at this point.

"I know, but it does the babies some good. And they always need people." She had some experience in the area. You didn't get to be forty-something without making a few mistakes.

Speaking of doing some good... "Did you get to the grocery?" I looked over my shoulder but didn't see the things I'd asked for.

"Of course," Mom said. "Before my little, er, fiasco." She gestured to her face.

I hopped up and opened the cabinet to reveal canned meats and fish. "Cool. I'm really hoping I can use anchovies in the toad slime substitution." Potions were my passion.

"Might work," Mom muttered. "Anchovies are just about as gross."

I shuddered. We agreed on that point.

Mom could follow the potion recipes but she had no real knack for it. For some reason, my mother and grandmother had never pursued potions with any enthusiasm. I lived and breathed potions, and I was tremendously talented. I had big goals. I planned to be a doctor and develop drugs to cure diseases. We already had potions to help all kinds of symptoms, but none of them would get by the Food and Drug Administration. I mean the government bureaucrats were not going to okay the ingestion of bat wings or unicorn horns. Luckily, fat-free margarine had already been found to be an adequate substitute for dead man's toe. So, I really held out hope that I could make things work. Mom and I were trying hard to keep the Council of Alchemists out of our business for as long as possible. Once they intervened, they could decide to send me away to school. I didn't want to be isolated in a lab somewhere. I liked my pathetic life.

I examined Mom's purchases while she eyed her wart in the mirror again.

"Maybe I should try Compound W."

"Mom, you know it will just make it worse! The more you mess with it, the worse it gets." My mood took a downward turn. Sometimes I just wanted to be like everyone else. I hated having a gift that seemed more like a curse. And I hated that we had weird allergies. Like, we can't tolerate any artificial sweeteners. They give us zits. And chocolate gives us diarrhea. It just isn't fair. Being different sucks.

Chagrined, Mom said, "I know. I guess I'll cover it with a bandage so I don't scare the babies."

"Good idea."

"Get changed. We need to leave in twenty minutes if we're going to make aerobics."

I put down the tuna. "We're still going?"

Mom nodded. "I've got some serious stress to work off."

"Okay. I'll go change as soon as I take care of Mrs. McGregor's cat."

"And I'll find an adhesive bandage. A really strong, sweat-resistant bandage. I don't want to gross out the rest of the class."

I headed off to Dad's library.

Bookcases crammed with spiral notebooks, journals, and dusty books lined the walls of the library. All of Dad's research was in there, and mine, too. My nuclear physicist father had taught me how to properly conduct experiments when I was seven. I'd kept every spiral notebook documenting every step in my search for potion substitutes.

I paused in the doorway for a moment. The room reminded me of all the good times with Dad. I missed having him around, and I couldn't really come to terms with him leaving my mother.

Taking the key from the desk drawer, I unlocked the cabinet at the base of one of the bookcases. My potions had to be locked up because they were so potent and could be dangerous. I pulled out the feline health potion which I had developed specially for the neighbor's cat by combining several ancient recipes. My own cat, Jasmine, didn't need any help.

I shook the bottle. Only a few drops were left. I'd have to brew some more tonight. Once a week, I treated Mrs. MacGregor's cat with the formula. Mrs. MacGregor was about ninety years old, and she adored Snowball. The cat had been sickly and approaching fifteen when I'd started dosing it five years ago. I knew my neighbor wouldn't live through losing her pet. So, I'd made sure she wouldn't have to. Snowball was the healthiest cat on the block. Since I didn't have any ulterior motives for helping, the potion wasn't self-serving and there was no retribution.

With the bottle in my hand, I went out the garage and around the side of the house. "Snowball. Here, kitty, kitty."

***

By the time we made it to the aerobics room, all the spaces along the back were taken. We grabbed our steps and risers and set them up in the middle. Hyper Bill was already there. He always set up in the front row. He'd joined us three months ago and was our token middle-aged man.

"Hey, Annie. You got some kind of skin thing going on?"

Mom grimaced. "Just had a little pre-cancer sliced off at the dermatologist today."

Hyper Bill nodded fiercely. He pointed to his freckled, bald head. "I had twelve lesions taken off last year."

My stomach tightened.

"Well, Bill, I guess we all need to do better about wearing our sunscreen." Mom beamed at him.

"Definitely." He nodded until I thought his head would fall off. Mom and I suspected he binged on energy drinks. Nobody had that much nervous energy. I could totally picture him slamming a case of Red Bull.

The aerobics instructor finally came in, and Hyper Bill turned his attention to her.

"Mom," I said under my breath. "You are such a liar."

"Not exactly, Zoe. After all, sunscreen is important. The message is good."

"Oh, is that our criteria for lies now? The overall impact on society?"

The music started and I moved back and forth to stretch my legs. Years of step aerobics had kept me in shape. At first, the uncoordinated factor had really made it difficult. But I discovered that I concentrated so hard on the steps that I barely felt the exercise. And now, I could hold my own with the rest of the class.

Mom tried to go every day, but on weeks when she had to shoot, she missed a lot. She wasn't obsessive, but she did make exercise a priority. She'd been a chubby kid, and her image was important to her. When it had become clear that I'd never excel at sports, she'd encouraged me to exercise with her.

"Take pity on me, Zoe," Mom mumbled. "I'm hideous."

I just laughed.

***

The exercise high really helped with the stress I was feeling. At least until Anya called. I had showered and crashed on my bed with my laptop when my cell rang.

"Did you read my email yet?"

"No. I'm just logging on."

"Well, forget it. I'll just tell you. I'm thinking about calling Brad," she announced.

Thank God! "Really," I said, trying not to sound excited. "I thought you said he wasn't smart enough for you."

"Oh, he's not," she assured me. "But that could be a good thing. If I'm the smart one in the relationship, I could be the boss, right?"

Leaning back on my pillows, I considered my answer. I was really torn here. I wanted to say whatever it took to get her away from Jake, but she was my best friend. I had to be honest with her, and I really didn't want to see her hurt. "I don't think you can boss around football players. I mean, Anya, they've got built-in popularity. Brad isn't going to put up with much." Football was big at our high school. Football was huge in Knoxville, period.

"Zoe, that is so the wrong answer," Anya scolded.

"You know he likes you, Anya. Just go for it." Was I pushing too hard? "Or don't. Whatever."

"I take it you're getting sick of hearing about it."

"No. It's just that, well, you've broken up with Jake before. And you always get back together." I'd actually lost count, but it seemed like this was break-up number five.

"I'm over Jake," Anya insisted. "Besides, he was totally flirting with Camille today."

He was? My heart shattered. I hoped Anya was exaggerating. Extreme exaggeration was part of her personality. An annoying part. Watching Jake date one friend was bad enough. Having to watch him with another would kill me.

Love stinks.

Luckily, Anya didn't require a response from me. She continued, "Do you think Brad's hotter than Jake?" I could just picture her tossing her perfectly straight black hair as she asked. Anya could model with her clear skin, big brown eyes, and full lips. She had an exotic quality about her while I just looked like your average tall brunette.

No. "I don't know," I answered tactfully.

"Well, I think Brad's a total hottie. Jake's blonde curls are so last millennium."

I loved Jake's hair. His hair fell in soft waves around his face. It would take someone else days to get that effect. But his just naturally did that. "Well, he has had his hair that way for a while." I didn't say that I hoped he kept it like that forever. Or ask her if the curls bounced into her face when he kissed her.

"Brad's hair is so much more normal," she said.

Brad's hair was totally average. Medium brown, cut short. No personality. "It's normal all right." I'd always had a problem with "normal." I think it had to do with being a witch. Talk about having a chip on your shoulder. I had a freakin' black cat on mine.

"Oh God! I have to go. Mom wants to have some together time."

Anya and her mother didn't get along very well. They both had strong personalities.

"Have fun," I teased.

I pushed end and logged into my email hoping to push away the thoughts of Jake and Camille. I deleted Anya's message and opened one from Milo. We'd met at orientation camp after second grade. He hadn't fit in that well, and I'd been homesick and miserable. A chubby kid with glasses, Milo had been easy prey for the bullies at camp. I still haven't figured out what his parents were thinking when they named him Milo. The kids didn't have to stretch to find mean names for him. They just added –lo to any word and taunted him with it. Weirdlo. Craplo. Nerdlo. Buttlo. Well, you get the picture.

Milo and I had decided that I'd use a potion to avenge him. Unfortunately, we didn't wait for our afternoon session on magic. If we had, we'd have known about the punishments for self-serving magic. And we would have realized that he'd be punished if I acted on his behalf. The ram horns curling out of either side of his head were way worse than the baldness potion I'd used on the other kids. They could wear hats. Milo could not. Nothing covered the horns.

We'd both promptly been kicked out, and we'd had to return again the next summer. By the end of that second summer, we were really close friends.

Both his parents were magic. One with spells, the other with potions. He'd only gotten spells. I'd rather he had potions like me, but at least he had some magic. He was really my only magic friend. Other than my mom. And she didn't count because she was not real good at magic.

I grinned. He'd sent me an e-card. We had this ongoing joke where we sent totally inappropriate cards to each other. Last week, I'd found one that talked about how it was what's inside that counts. I'd modified it to read, "Good luck on your sex-change operation." Milo had loved it.

This card contained a touching, compassionate message about menopause. Then, a drawing of a scary-looking woman with bulging eyes popped up. "What the hell do you mean I have mood swings?" She pulled out a shotgun and fired at me.

Not bad, I admitted. Milo had done well. Maybe I could find something for men going bald or hemorrhoids. I closed out my email. I could work on that this weekend.

I double-clicked on the Word file marked "challenges." Mom said it was better to label them challenges than problems. Some sort of psychobabble thing, but I figured it couldn't hurt. I had four main issues to deal with. Number one, surviving the tenth grade. Sure, millions of people had lived through it before me. One month into the school year, I still wasn't convinced I'd make it. Number two, dealing with Dad. I had no better idea how to manage my divorced Dad than I had yesterday. Number three, getting over Jake. I highlighted number three and bolded it. After my conversation with Anya, I had to strengthen my resolve. Must not have crush on Jake. Number four wasn't any easier than the rest. Surviving in a world full of non-magic people.

Luckily, I had some tools for this. I had my bud Milo. And I had the laminated trump cards in my wallet that he'd traded me for some feline health potion. Each card could be used up to ten times. One spell caused a sneezing attack. The other caused vomiting. At camp, we'd learned to carry emergency distractions such as these in order to buy time in incriminating situations. Like, say, you turned your teacher into a frog. If she was sneezing uncontrollably, she might not notice. Okay, she'd notice, but for lesser infractions, a sneezing fit could work well.

I'd never had to use them to protect myself. I hated to make somebody suffer through it. Before I'd gotten the cards from Milo, I'd carried a vial of sneezing potion in my backpack. In sixth grade, the books got heavier, and I managed to crack the glass. I got hit with such a high dose when I pulled out my math book that I probably would have sneezed for ninety-six days straight. Of course, I was lucky enough to have Mom brew me an antidote.

I shuddered. The cards were definitely a better solution.

I'd used the sneezing card for the first time to help out Camille last week. We were sitting in history class and she kicked her purse. A tampon rolled out right into plain sight under her chair. She didn't notice, but I couldn't leave her hanging like that. So, I picked up the spell card and sent a sneezing fit to a kind-of-popular jock in the second row on the other side of the room.

Unfortunately, he had some kind of cold or sinus thing going on. The attack hit him so suddenly that he didn't have time to cover his nose. He sprayed the row in front of him with snot droplets. The ensuing chaos provided great cover for Camille to grab the tampon and tuck it back into her purse. Of course, they're calling Mike "the Snot Sniper" now. Once basketball season starts back up, he'll probably be okay. Basically I had deflected an embarrassing situation by humiliating someone else. That was the problem with magic. You could almost never control the variables.

One thing I could control was Snowball's health. I headed to the kitchen and got the ingredients out for the potion. I'd prepared it so many times that I didn't need to check the order.

I measured everything out into little glass cups, like on those cooking shows. When the water boiled, I put in the teaspoon of echinacea, the capsule of Vitamin D, four orange seeds, one teaspoon of margarine, a half cup of slime from the three-day-old pasta, an egg, and a pinch of unicorn horn. I removed the cauldron from the heat, with a grunt, and waited for it to congeal. Then, I whipped it with a whisk until it was watery again and poured it into the glass bottle, and closed it with the specially treated cork stopper.

I didn't have leftovers, but the pot had to be salted before washing for this type of potion according to Finnegan's _Treatise on Environmental Emergency Aversion_. Before Dr. Martin Finnegan had come up with procedures for different types of potions, we'd had some real problems. I shook in the salt and headed for the sink.

### Chapter Two

"It's Brad, isn't it?" Jake asked before homeroom the next day.

"What? Where?" I hadn't been ready for this question when I'd taken my usual seat beside him. I hadn't even had time to admire the new mossy green button-up shirt he wore.

"That's who she likes," he prompted.

"Anya?" I asked sounding like a total idiot. The things I do for friendship. I plopped my backpack on the desk and fiddled with my jean jacket collar.

He leaned back into his seat and crossed his arms in a casual manner. "You can just answer me. I already know. I saw her waiting for him this morning out front." He didn't sound too upset.

"She was?" She hadn't told me that. I braved looking at Jake. If I had to listen to her complaining, I should at least hear her decisions.

"I guess he's okay," Jake said. "He didn't badmouth Tiffany after they broke up. And from what I heard, she deserved it."

"So you're okay with them going out?" I asked, examining his eyes as if I could read the truth. I hadn't thought he would be.

He shrugged. "It's just weird. You know. Everything's been the same for so long. Now, it's all changing."

We'd been buds for a while, but I didn't think we'd ever had a conversation on our own that lasted this long. Luckily, the homeroom teacher hadn't told the class to be quiet yet. "Like what?" I asked. "Besides Anya?"

Jake looked down at his desk. "Well, my mom broke up with her boyfriend. And she's seeing some other guy."

His mom's boyfriend had lived with them, so it must be almost like a divorce. "Weren't they together for like, forever?"

"Since I was five," he said. "Now she's met some kind of nuclear physicist or something."

"What?" My breath caught, and not in a good way. The only nuclear physicist I knew was my father. But fate couldn't be that cruel.

"Yeah, she's all into this guy, John." He didn't sound happy.

"John Miller?" I winced, mentally banging my head on the desk because I already knew the answer. Fate could be that cruel.

"Yeah," he said. His brow jerked up as he realized that was my last name. "He's not related is he?"

"Oh, we're related all right." I sighed. "He's my dad."

His eyes widened. "No way is my mom dating your dad."

I groaned. "You'd think it was impossible, but here we are."

"I thought Anya said your dad left your mom for his secretary?"

"Lab assistant," I corrected. I still hadn't come to terms with that betrayal. "And she dumped him. So he's moved on."

"To my mother." He clenched his jaw. "Your dad sounds like—"

I interrupted him before he could make me mad. "Just pretend he's not my dad, and think what you want. I really don't claim him anymore. Except every other weekend." Dad was totally screwing up my life.

I didn't think I could even share this with my mom. She probably couldn't handle it. I probably couldn't even handle it.

Jake shifted in his seat. "So when my mom runs around getting ready for her date, she's trying to look hot for your" —he gulped— "dad?"

I just smiled. I mean sometimes you either laugh or cry. I really, really wanted to laugh. Because crying sucked.

***

At lunch, Anya, dressed to the nines in a new funky jacket and chunky jewelry, had no trouble laughing at my latest Dad woes. "Oh my God! That's just hilarious!"

Thankfully, most of our friends had gone outside to eat. I tried to chew my sandwich. It tasted like sand. Dry, dirty sand.

"Of all the people for your father to date. He has to date Jake's mom." She completely cracked up. "Jake is going to hate his guts."

At least no one could hear us over the noise in the cafeteria. "I think he already does."

Anya had no trouble plowing through her lunch despite the fact that the chicken sandwich smelled like a cat litter pan. My stomach obviously couldn't handle the stress.

"At least this works out well for you." She bit into her sandwich again.

"How's that exactly?" Maybe I was missing something.

She held up her hand and swallowed. "Well, you already know Jake's mom is cool. So you don't have to worry about some horrid girlfriend." She popped some M&M's in her mouth.

Anya knew all about my stepmonster fears. "I like his mom," I said, propping my chin in my hand, "and now I have to watch her with my dad. That's not good. My dad isn't good enough for her." Dad couldn't be trusted.

"Well, that's true," Anya agreed.

"He'll either bug the crap out of her or dump her. And it's not like I can warn her. She'll think I'm just being obnoxious." I forced the lump of sandwich down with some water and gave up on my lunch.

"Maybe your mom can pick you up early," Anya suggested. "Shopping might help."

We'd done lots of shopping after the divorce. "I don't think I'm even going to tell her. Plus, she's at the hospital rocking sick babies."

"Your mom is such a good person," Anya said, clearly impressed. "She works all the time, and then when she has a vacation, she donates her time. She's really something."

She was something all right. If Anya knew the whole story, she might not be so complimentary. "She's a better person than Dad," I compromised.

Anya's icy blue eyes, courtesy of contact lenses, widened with pity. "Poor Jake," she said. "Maybe I should call him."

Of course, I thought. What could be more perfect than Anya and Jake getting back together because of my dad?

***

When I got out of school, I found four text messages from Milo on my cell phone. He really needed to work on that whole patience thing.

Milo used his spells to work on feeding the homeless. He'd never admitted to using any spells on animals. Although, his guinea pig had been alive for eight years. Either he was using the potion, or his mom and dad had been replacing him at regular intervals. I wasn't sure which was more likely.

He'd only been waiting a week. But he knew the results were coming today, and he was apparently freaking out.

Milo had discovered a way to combine spells and multiply objects, including cans of food, by ten. His goal was to help the poor. A month ago, he'd managed the spell. But it had taken a while to get my dad in touch with his old chemist pal who could evaluate the nutritional value of the food. We were a little fearful that the multiplication process robbed the vegetables of some nutrients. Milo really didn't want to feed vegetables with fewer nutrients to the poor. They had enough problems already.

The fourth text message indicated that Milo was coming a little unglued. He'd spelled two of the words wrong. Since there were only four in each message, two was a lot. Milo, the champion speller, had messed up half the words in "R they there yet?" He'd written "S the there yet?"

I turned the power off on the phone. No way was I talking to him until I had the results. And they'd better be good.

***

After the bus let me off at my stop, I turned the phone on again. I hated feeling cut off from the world.

I found a text from my dad. He had the results for Milo. He'd emailed them to me. I didn't pull them up on my phone. Instead, I unlocked the house and ran up to my room. The results were great. Milo's spell worked like, well, a charm. He'd turned one can of vegetables into ten and hadn't lost any of the nutritional value.

I pressed "2" on my cell and waited for it to dial Milo.

"Do you have them?" He sounded so anxious.

"Of course, I do. Otherwise, I'd still be dodging your calls."

"Tell me."

Overlooking the possible rude factor wasn't hard. I knew he was excited. "Okay, Okay. They were perfect. The potatoes, the carrots, and the beans. They all had the right vitamins, fiber, everything."

"And the corn?"

"Same thing. No problems. I already forwarded you the spreadsheet." I stood and picked up my laundry basket full of dirty clothes. Doing laundry was a lot less boring when I talked on the phone. Besides, I needed some clothes to pack for Dad's.

"I can't believe it." I heard a touch of the shy child in his voice.

"Well, believe it. You just found a way to feed ten times as many people at the food bank." I grinned. "If there's a nuclear war, I definitely want you in my bomb shelter. We'd never run out of canned food."

"Do you realize what this means?"

"Yeah, I just said so." Padding down the stairs, I tried not to drop the phone or the laundry.

"I took two charms and blended them, and came up with a third. And it works. The possibilities are endless."

"Amazing, isn't it. Whoever gave you the idea?" I gave myself a mental pat on the back for clearing the laundry room door without dropping anything.

"You did, you big dork."

The idea had come to me about two months ago. I figured that he might be able to mix his spells like I mixed my potions. "Big dork? Or brilliant dork?"

"Neither," he said. "Thanks for the idea. But the spells were all me."

"I'm proud of you." A quick check told me the washer was empty. I dumped my jeans and darks into the machine.

"My parents are going to flip out."

I pictured Milo's parents. "They're going to be really proud of you." His mom ran a food bank, and his dad was a youth minister. They didn't use magic much, but they wanted Milo to master his spells.

"I'm not going to tell them yet." I could almost hear Milo rubbing his hands together like a genius hatching a plan. "I'm going to run out later and multiply all the food at the food pantry. Then, she'll find it when she opens in the morning."

"Do it. It'll be great."

I could hear his smile as he spoke. "I think I will. Tell your dad thanks for me. You're so lucky to have a scientist for a dad."

"Yeah."

"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to bring up your dad."

He knew I wasn't dealing well with the separation situation. "It's okay. I am lucky he's a scientist. I just wish I were lucky in some other ways too."

"I forgot to ask you. Did you try that potion to multiply food?"

"Yeah," I admitted. Next stop, the kitchen for some caffeine.

"I take it that your potion didn't work."

"It worked." I'd turned one small can of asparagus into a big restaurant-sized container. Like the world needed more asparagus anyway. "The asparagus had a funny taste though."

Milo gagged into the phone. "Asparagus. How could you even tell it didn't taste right?"

"I couldn't. Obviously. I had my mother try it." We were down to one can of Coke. I hoped Mom was on top of the grocery situation.

"Are you sure it tasted funny?"

"My mother has very reliable taste buds." She did. Even if she did eat something as gross as asparagus.

"Too bad. We could have done a lot between the two of us."

"You still can." I popped open the can and chugged.

"Hang on," Milo said. A few seconds later, he was back. "Zoe. I have to go. It's Darlene."

"Darlene?" I tried not to show my surprise. "Isn't that the cheerleader you like?"

"Yeah."

"You dog!" I teased. "Good luck."

"Bye." He hung up.

I pushed end. Milo really liked this girl, but I never thought she'd like him. Oh sure, he'd changed since elementary school. He'd grown to almost six feet and slimmed down. And he'd gotten contacts last year. I knew he looked good, but I didn't trust anyone to appreciate him like I did. As a friend of course. I'd never considered him as anything other than a friend.

Darlene apparently had. I groaned. If Milo started dating Darlene, I'd be the last of my friends to find a boyfriend. Well, in Milo's case, a girlfriend. I really didn't like the idea of being last, or put succinctly, the biggest loser of all my friends.

***

"I've got a good feeling about this one," Dad said later that night when he picked me up in his Prius. "I think you'll like her."

"Okay," I said. I just didn't feel like telling him that I knew her yet. I didn't feel much like talking at all. I pretended not to notice that Dad had dressed up in a nice sweater with his khakis instead of his usual sloppy, untucked shirt.

"And, she told me she has a son your age," he said as we plodded down the road at exactly the speed limit. "The way she talked about him, I'd assumed he was younger. She doesn't look my age at all."

How much aftershave had Dad used? "I know him," I admitted.

"What?" He turned his attention from the road to me.

"I know her son." He'd find out anyway. "He dated my best friend."

"Well," he said, clearly surprised. "It's a small world."

Too freakin' small for my taste.

Dad glanced over at me. "So, he's a good kid?"

"He's okay," I said with a shrug.

"Because we're going over there for dinner tonight." He sounded excited about it.

"Great." The way to my dad's heart totally was through his pudgy stomach. He was so into gourmet cooking. Jake's mom was a real estate agent, so their two-story house was really nice. I'd been there lots of times.

The sad thing was that I'd always thought my mom and Jake's mom would get along. Now, I was heading to her house with my dad. So much for that friendship.

"Are you okay with this?" Dad asked over the tick-tick of the turn signal.

I knew I should hate him, but I just couldn't. He didn't mean to ruin my life. I guess he couldn't help it. Being nice sucked. Anya was always telling me to work on being bitchier. She had a point. She'd always been high maintenance and she got what she wanted.

"It's fine," I said, glancing out the window as Dad turned onto a side street.

At least I knew things couldn't get worse.

***

I learned how wrong I was ten minutes after getting to Jake's house. We were in the kitchen, helping with the salad, when he said, "So what do you think about Camille?"

I just looked at him and pretended he hadn't stabbed me in the heart. Anya was right. He was interested in Camille—another one of my best friends. "She's great," I admitted, working to keep my voice neutral.

"I was thinking about asking her to the dance." He kept slicing the tomatoes. His over-sized hound, Indiana, sat on his haunches begging for scraps.

Of course he was. "Great." Oops. I might have missed neutral on that one. I concentrated on washing the lettuce.

He stopped and looked at me. "What?"

"What what?" Two could play that game.

"You don't sound like you like the idea," he said and put down the knife.

"No. I just..." Why did life have to be so complicated? I turned to meet his gaze. "Do you like her or are you just asking out one of Anya's friends to get to Anya? I mean Camille has feelings too."

His eyes widened. "My God, Zoe. Do you really think I'd do that? I'm not mean."

He and I had spent a lot of time together. With Anya, of course. "I know." Great. I'd insulted him.

"I haven't decided about Camille anyway," he said. "I wanted your opinion."

"Do you always ask your mother's boyfriend's daughters for opinions about your love life?"

He looked hurt. "No," he said. "I do ask my friends though."

Okay, now I felt like a real creep. "I'm sorry, Jake. I... This whole thing with our parents is totally stressing me out. And then there's Anya and Brad, and you and Camille, and I..." I shook my head and turned off the faucet. "I just need a break," I said, turning to him.

His green eyes softened. "I know what you mean."

"You do?" Why did he have to be so hot?

"Yeah," he said with a smile. "I've got an idea. Let's ditch the parents and go to a movie."

Getting out of here would rock. "We can't do that, can we?"

He shrugged. "I don't know why not. They'd probably rather be alone anyway. Plus, they don't ask our opinions on every move they make."

True. They made all kinds of plans without asking us. My spirits lifted. "Let's do it." I snatched a piece of cheddar and gave it to Indiana.

### Chapter Three

Jake was right. Neither of them protested too much. And we got a twenty from each of them. Ten minutes later, Dad dropped us at the theater.

"Text me when you pick the movie, and let me know what time it lets out," my dad said. "You can ask the usher."

"I know. I will."

Dad waved and pulled away from the curve.

"So what movie should we see?" Jake asked as we walked up the steps to the front of the twelve-plex.

"I don't care," I said truthfully. "I'll watch anything. As long as it's not about divorce. I'm full up on divorce right now."

Jake grinned. "I know what you mean."

I vetoed the artsy choice. "Nothing with suicide either."

"Agreed." Jake stuck his hands in his jean pockets and studied the marquee. "How do you feel about action?"

I loved it when he stood that way. So GQ. "Action's good. But no horror."

We settled on a Jackie Chan movie. Humor and action were always a winning combination in my book. I got the exact ending time and called Dad.

Since we'd skipped dinner, we got popcorn, candy, and drinks. We passed on the withered hot dogs, but decided to risk some nachos. I didn't have to pretend I never ate much, because I didn't have a chance in hell with Jake anyway.

Obviously, I'm always trying to find the up side to everything. The up side to being a witch was that I could help people with my potions. The up side to a movie with Jake, even as a friend, was that I got to go to a movie with Jake. Usually, I sat on the other side of Anya when they let me tag along on their dates. Tonight, it was just the two of us, and while it wasn't a date, at least I wasn't the third wheel. The role of pathetic dateless friend had grown old.

We found seats in the auditorium and dropped the armrests to situate our drinks and snacks. Jake slouched down in his seat, adjusting his long legs in the aisle.

His hottiness wasn't just about looks. He had this energy about him that kind of radiated. Sitting beside him was like being wrapped in his energy field, and it felt really good.

The previews had finished and the lights had dimmed when a couple came in. They climbed to the row in front of us as the screen grew brighter. My jaw dropped to the floor. Jake tensed.

It was totally Anya and Brad. And they were sitting right in front of us.

"Oh my God," I muttered.

"You got that right," Jake said.

"Should we move?"

"No," he said. "We'll just ignore them."

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"This sucks," he mumbled.

It really did. I felt sorry for him.

Then Anya noticed us. She twisted around to see us better. "Hey," she said. "What are you guys doing here?"

"We bailed on our parents," I said before Jake could answer.

"Oh," Anya had the grace to look a little embarrassed. "Well, um." She looked at Brad and then at Jake. "This is weird."

"Hey, dude," Brad said to Jake.

"Hey," Jake answered.

They turned around to watch the movie and I crossed my fingers that we wouldn't have to watch them make out. If they started kissing, I might have to use one of my trump cards. I didn't want Jake to suffer.

Jake grabbed a handful of popcorn and stuffed it into his mouth. He didn't seem happy at all. I really doubted he could concentrate on the movie.

We made it twenty minutes before Brad put his arm around Anya. Jake choked on a nacho. I didn't hold out much hope for them not kissing. I'd have to get a card out. I could only do the spell while holding the card. Of course, I also had to choose one. The vomiting spell held a lot of appeal. Anya spewing up her dinner would definitely stop the making out with the added bonus that Jake would be disgusted. Using the charm that way would be more self-serving though, and the punishment would be worse. I could probably make it out of the theater in time, but I'd rather hang out with Jake.

Jackie Chan had defeated about half the bad guys by the time Anya decided to kiss Brad. Jake kicked Brad's chair. Brad didn't notice, so Jake did it again harder.

"Dude," Brad said.

Jake growled.

Brad went right back to kissing Anya. Not good. A sneezing fit would break up their little tongue-swapping fest also. I could save Jake the pain without ruining Anya and Brad's relationship. I reached down to dig for my wallet. One sneeze attack coming up.

"Should we leave?" I whispered to Jake to distract him.

"No," he said, leaning closer to me. Suddenly, he didn't seem as stressed but more like his old self. "I think I should kiss you."

"What? No!" Oh my God! I dropped my wallet back into my purse.

"Why not?" he asked in a low voice that sent shivers through me.

I made myself look at him as I whispered, "Because you don't want to kiss me, you just want to bother Anya. And she's my best friend."

"Right," he said, backing away. "I guess we shouldn't then."

Of course, I'd really hoped that he would say that he did want to kiss me and not only to bother Anya.

"Would it help that it would also drive our parents nuts?"

Hmmm. "Let me think for a minute," I said. It would really mess with Dad's head. And that excuse would be good enough for Anya. I already had a major crush. How much worse could it get? Glancing at Anya and quickly judging how dark the theater was, I said, "Okay." I liked his plan much better than mine.

"Okay?" He looked at me funny, like he'd thought I'd say no.

"Yeah, do it already." I didn't want to lose my nerve. I mean it's not every day the man you love offers to kiss you. The light from the screen flickered against his handsome face.

He handed me the colossal tub of popcorn which I balanced on my knee, and I moved my drink to the other armrest so that we could even get close enough to kiss.

Jake leaned in toward me, and I'm still not sure exactly how it happened, but my knee twitched. And the twitch tossed the extra large bucket of popcorn all over Anya and Brad. The sneeze would have made less of a mess.

Anya shrieked. Brad jumped up, and people all over the theater turned to glare at us.

"Jake, what do you think you're doing?" Anya hissed. She swatted the popcorn kernels from her hair and blouse. "If you have a problem with me seeing Brad—"

"I don't," Jake snapped.

"Anya," I said, lowering my voice and trying to calm the situation before they kicked us out. "It was my fault. You know how clumsy I am. Jake had nothing to do with it."

Anya eyed me for a moment. In a testament to my sad clumsiness, she believed me. "Fine." She turned to Brad, who was still brushing himself off. "We'll just forget the whole thing."

They sat down.

Jake leaned over to me and whispered. "I'm so sorry."

Thank goodness it was dark in there, because I knew my face had to be flaming red.

"Mortifying," I moaned. "Absolutely mortifying."

Jake shifted in his seat, then reached out and put his arm around my shoulder. "It's my fault," he said.

"It's okay," I said. Who knew a little embarrassment could result in Jake putting his arm around me?

"I guess kissing you was a bad idea," he said, squeezing my shoulder in a halfway hug.

"Yeah," I said, starting to have trouble breathing. I couldn't believe how close he was. And I still wanted to kiss him. I was dying to kiss him, bad idea or not.

Anya and Brad were back into their make-out session, and I felt a moment of anger at Anya for rubbing it in Jake's face. There was still time for the sneeze card.

"Hey," Jake said, reaching with his other hand to tilt my chin and see my eyes.

"Huh," I breathed, as his blonde curls drew closer.

Then, he leaned the rest of the way and pressed his lips to mine. Oh my God! It was so much better than kissing my pillow.

I heard some kind of noise from my throat, and he deepened the kiss, exploring my mouth, and sending my head spinning. I forgot all my problems. I even forgot that Anya was right in front of us. I just focused on my lips. And Jake's.

Apparently, he liked the kiss too because he didn't stop for a long time. I threaded my fingers through his hair which felt better than I'd even imagined. My heart thumped like I'd run two miles, and my mind went all groggy while my skin felt on fire.

When Jake finally pulled away, he kept his arm around me. "Oh my God," he said, sagging back into his seat.

I couldn't even answer him. I couldn't speak. I could barely breathe.

"I had no idea it would be that good," he said quietly.

He thought it was good! "Yeah," I managed, still trying to regain my composure. What an ending to a crappy week!

"I always thought it would be like kissing my sister or something," he said.

Now, that didn't sound good. "I'm not your sister."

"No, I know." He leaned over because Anya glanced back at us. Quietly, he whispered, "We've known each other forever."

Then, it hit me that he'd thought about it before. "You've thought about what it'd be like to kiss me?" I asked.

He grimaced. "I know that's bad, but I have."

Cool. "It's not bad."

We sat in silence for the rest of the movie. I fought the urge to jump up and down.

When the movie ended, we gathered our trash and hurried out to avoid Anya and Brad. I was totally confused. I'd always wanted to kiss Jake, but now that I had, what we were supposed to do? Especially with his mother dating my dad.

Dad's Prius was waiting out front. I climbed in the front and Jake climbed in the back.

"How was it?" Dad asked.

"Interesting," I said.

Dad nodded toward the strip mall by the theater. "Do you guys mind if I run into the store and pick up some ice cream? Sheree and I were talking about some cold dessert."

"No problem," I said. Maybe I'd get a chance to talk to Jake in private.

Dad steered around the theater to the grocery in the strip mall. Everyone we knew hung out at the strip mall. There was a sub shop, a pizza place, and a gaming store.

As we pulled into a space, Jake said, "Did you know they raised their membership rates again at GamerCraze?"

"No." Of course, the guys I knew would pay anything to access the online gaming they had.

Dad opened his door. "Back in a flash."

"Zoe," Jake said when Dad was gone. "You're a really good kisser."

"I am?" I turned sideways in my seat.

His green eyes searched mine.

"I mean, so are you. Kisses are always good, right?" If he hadn't figured out that he was my first real kiss, I certainly wasn't going to enlighten him.

"Well, yeah, but not like, that good." He reached out and tweaked my nose. "Because that was really good. Maybe," he started, and then he blushed.

I giggled. "You're blushing."

"So are you," he accused.

I just giggled more. "I know, but I always blush. You don't."

"It's not funny, Zoe." His expression was serious. "This is bad. In fact, we have to do it again."

That shut me up. "What?"

"I have to kiss you again." His eyes held an earnest look. "I have to find out."

Like I was gonna argue. "Okay," I said with a shrug, intrigued by this whole intense, troubled side of him.

He scooted up in the seat. I closed my eyes. His lips touched mine.

Rap. Rap.

My eyes snapped open to the sight of Anya rapping on the car window. I got an eyeful of Anya's horrified, angry, shocked face on the other side of the window. It was like a bad dream. But it was real.

I froze and Jake jumped backward, his eyes wide.

He turned to look out the window in time to see Anya's last glare before she stomped off toward the pizza place with Brad in tow.

Jake just sat there. I sat there. My blood was pumping through my veins, and my brain was addled. I couldn't begin to fix this situation.

"So Anya saw us," I said softly.

In the theater, I hadn't been too worried. But here, in the car, I'd felt like the kiss was real and private. Well, the very beginnings of a real kiss.

At least he wasn't running after her. "I thought you were over her." I was starting to get tired of all the surprises.

"I am," he said automatically. Then he turned back toward me, giving me a lopsided smile. "Do you think your dad will be much longer?"

"No." I'd forgotten he could pop up any moment.

"Your dad who has probably been kissing my mom the whole time we were in the movie."

Not cool. I grimaced. That was an image I didn't need. "Right," I said, resigning myself to a life of loneliness. Dad had left the store and was coming toward the car.

Dad opened the car door and said, "Sorry about that, guys." He handed me the cold bag of ice cream.

I tried to find a reason to blame Dad for what Anya had seen. He just had to have ice cream. He had to date Jake's mother. Honestly, I wouldn't have missed out on these kisses for anything.
