I had never heard the term “Bite me” taken so literally.
I was hanging out with my boyfriend, Reese, at my house. My parents and sister were out to dinner to give me and Reese some time alone. We popped some popcorn and we were watching a DVD cuddled together on my couch—I don’t even remember what movie it was. But we, for whatever reason, were having some sort of argument about the movie. This was what our relationships was about: we fought, we exchanged insults, we’d break up, then we’d forget about it the next day and we’d fight again. I’m pretty sure I’ve said it to Reese before, you know, “that phrase.” We’d fought so many times I couldn’t keep track of what I’ve told him. But that night and that fight were different.
Because when I told him “Bite me” he did.
He grabbed my shoulders furiously, leaned in like he was going to kiss me, then sank his teeth into my neck.
I’m pretty sure I slapped him but the next hour was a total blur—I spent it with my head in the toilet of my bathroom. I shouted insults at Reese from where I sat on the bathroom rug between my barfing fits, calling him a freak, a weirdo, crazy, and others along the lines of that and worse.
He responded to everything I said with, “I love you too.”
The jerk.
He seemed too calm about what was happening to me while I barfed. Needless to say, I was freaking out. But I’ll say it anyway: I was freaking out.
It felt like I was hacking up everything I had ever eaten. I coughed and heaved and gagged and Reese was crouched right next to me, rubbing my shoulder. Each time I had a chance, when I wasn’t yacking, I’d slap away his hand, but then I’d be too weak to keep him from touching me. He was on his cell phone half the time and the other half he was dealing with me and my dinners from the past fifteen years of my life.
I highly doubt it was romantically stimulating.
But Reese was calm and he had a small eager smile on his face, which I think I tried to slap off multiple times.
I heard a slam and then stomping and shouting and I glanced over to see a tall lanky guy standing in the doorway of the bathroom. He took one look at me then at Reese, then back at me. Then he grabbed Reese by the collar of his shirt and shouted in his face “You idiot!” but a bit worse then he kicked him out of the bathroom.
I stopped barfing but was too weak to really do anything. I used to hate how people would compare their weak bodies to Jell-O but that’s exactly how it felt. That and wet noodles. My whole body felt like Jell-O and wet noodles.
The new guy tapped his muddy boot against my knee when I slumped against the toilet and cautiously asked if I was OK. I wanted to scream at him that of course I wasn’t, you idiot but there was no energy to be found in my body anywhere. I did manage an annoyed glower but it didn’t have much effect on him, which really bugged me.
He crouched next to me and put the back of his hand against my forehead. His hand felt cool, well, cold really, and I flinched at his touch. But this didn’t phase him and he just held the back of my head with his other hand while keeping the back of his hand against my forehead. I growled at him and he blinked and said, “Are you really Reese’s girlfriend?”
“Not after this,” I sneered and found I had enough energy to spew something undeterminable over his shoe. He looked down at his shoe and blinked slowly.
“Great,” he muttered before kicking off both of his shoes. He put one arm behind my shoulders and the other arm under my knees and lifted me up, as if I were as light as a feather. I leaned my cheek against his shoulder and closed my eyes.
His body was so cold it made me realize how hot mine was.
Somewhere in the back of my awareness, I heard Reese shouting at the guy carrying me and telling him to keep his hands where Reese could see them. But the least of my worries was some guy putting his hands where Reese could see them.
The guy dumped me in the backseat of a car and I heard the car door slam. Two others opened and closed and the guy was scolding Reese the whole time before I finally passed out.
Somewhere along the way, in the back of my mind that could really register it, something put together the pieces and made everything click. My boyfriend bit my neck, my body freaked out, and this guy was ice cold. For whatever reason, all this added up to one thing: vampires.