Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 112849 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112849 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
“You know, I can’t remember the last time I was on a date.”
He tilts his head as he gives me a soft smile. “I thought this wasn’t a date.”
I open my mouth to clarify, but nothing comes out. Instead I take a sip of my drink and the waiter arrives with the plate of fried squash blossoms, right on time to quell the awkwardness.
We dig into our food and I can’t help but steal a glance at Valtu. He eats with patience, handling his fork delicately, no doubt centuries of fine manners bestowed upon him. I know that vampires are born human, have human bodies until they transform at the age of thirty-five (females at twenty-one), and that until that happens they eat food like the rest of us. I also know that when they are vampires, they do require blood to survive, and they hunger for it like nothing else, but they will occasionally eat food as well. It seems that Valtu has no problems indulging in it, though I’m not sure how much he enjoys it or how much is for a show of normalcy.
“I have a hard time believing that, Ms. Abernathy,” he says between bites, his voice gentle. “That you can’t remember the last date you were on.”
“It’s true,” I tell him. “I honestly can’t remember. I don’t date, I’ve never even been in a relationship. Never been in love.”
Now he’s really surprised, but not as much as I am for just telling him all that. I quickly shove the fried flower in my mouth so I don’t say anything else stupid.
“I don’t need to tell you how beautiful you are,” he says. “You must already know it. So I know it’s not a matter of people not being attracted to you, rather—”
“But it is,” I interrupt him, quickly swallowing my food. “It is. And it’s not my looks, I know I’m pretty enough, it’s just the moment people get to know me, they…” I look away, feeling like an idiot. Why am I telling him this?
I take in a deep breath. “You know about the whole uncanny valley thing right?”
His brows come together. “How something looks almost human but there’s something off about it, which in turn makes them repulsive to others?”
I bite my lip, my eyes focused on my hands as I slowly turn my glass around on the table. “Yeah. That. Sometimes I think that people get that feeling from me. Like I look like them, like I’m almost like them, but then there’s just something about me that tells them I’m different. That I’m not the same as them. And so they stay away.”
He’s quiet and I’m almost scared to look up at him. I’ve never admitted that to anyone before, I think I’ve barely admitted it to myself.
But when I meet his eyes, he’s looking at me like he’s recognizing something in me, maybe putting two and two together.
“Have you ever felt that way about anyone?” he asks. “Have you looked at someone and thought that something doesn’t feel right?”
I know the irony in a vampire asking me this question, and I suddenly realize just how similar the two of us are. The difference is, humans are naturally drawn to vampires, they have that inner charm that makes them so alluring—and deadly. And even if they didn’t, they certainly have the power to compel them.
“I have,” I say slowly. “But it hasn’t scared me off. It doesn’t scare me like I seem to scare everyone else.”
He leans forward slightly, a piece of black hair falling across his forehead, and I find myself reaching forward, brushing it back behind his ear, his skin cold against my touch, his hair silky soft. His eyes meet mine, an intense mahogany storm, and we’re so close now…
I quickly take my hand back, putting distance back between us.
He swallows thickly, watching me as I quickly take a gulp of my drink. I feel so fucking insane right now, I’m vibrating. “What if I were to tell you that I feel the same way as you,” he says softly, pressing his fingers into the table. “That I know exactly what you’re speaking about?”
A normal person would brush him off. They’d tell him, don’t be silly, you’re this accomplished handsome professor at a prestigious music school. I should say all that to keep up the ruse, but I can’t. I don’t want to. I want someone to relate to for once in my damn life.
“Do you really?” I whisper.
He nods gravely and I find myself wondering about his real story, his real past, all the things I would normally be asking him but I can’t because he’s only going to hide who he is, much the way I have to hide who I really am.
“As a child, I had no friends,” I say after a moment. “I really didn’t. And I didn’t understand why, you know? I tried so hard to be good, to be nice to everyone, I really did. I tried so hard it was sad. And yet I was always the last to get picked for anything. When there were assignments we had to pair up for in school, no one ever chose me. The teacher then had to put me with someone and I always saw the resentment in the one I was paired with. The teachers didn’t like me either for some reason, even when I never spoke out of turn and I always did my homework. And whenever there was a team for like soccer, baseball, or something, I was always picked last, even though I was pretty athletic. I was the one never invited to birthday parties even though I would always get them a gift. I always sat alone in the back of the school bus. I never had a best friend, and if I did they only lasted a short while before they realized there was something wrong with me. Every time I opened my mouth kids would tune me out, and adults did the same. It’s like they didn’t want the weird quiet kid hanging out with their child. And I still don’t know what it is about me. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I didn’t understand…I don’t…”