We Are the Day Ch. 04

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Time apart leads to complications.
4.6k words
4.68
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11

Part 4 of the 7 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 09/28/2013
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Hey there readers!

Here's the fourth chapter of WATD. I'd just like to send a special shout out to all of my readers. It's nice to have so many people like and vote for my stories...even the negative comments were helpful in some aspects. That being said, I hope you all stick around for some of the answers to your chapter three concerns and dislikes in the chapters to come. It'll all make sense eventually.

Happy reading! And remember to keep voting and leaving comments!

<3 CC

Chapter Four

"Alright, what do you think?" Kenna asked me, twirling to model her new outfit. It was a red, plastic-looking dress that barely covered the top of her thigh. Her legs were adorned with black fishnets, her feet clad with black pumps.

"It's a little short for the end of October, don't you think?"

"It's for the Halloween party this Thursday, Tay."

"Well, what are you going as?"

She pouted. "I don't know."

I laughed as I shook my head. "You bought this dress and don't even have a plan?"

"It was too was cute to pass up, okay?" She laughed with me, putting her hands on her hips. "What should I do with it?"

I pondered this before answering. "It's gonna be cheesy, but cute in a way." She looked intrigued, so I continued. "Throw on some fangs and go as a vampire," I shrugged.

Squeals flooded her bedroom. "Oh my God, Tay! That's brilliant! Carter is so gonna get a kick out of that!"

I nodded. "He will. I think Damian would too," even though we weren't exactly on speaking terms.

"Oh!" she began to squeal again. "So you're going with me?"

"Yes, but there's gonna be some rules." Kenna groaned, but I continued anyway. "Number one, no drinking. Not. A. Drop." I was determined not to have to peel Kenna Janae Jones out of another stranger's bathtub.

"Ugh, you sound like Carter."

"Number two, we both have to attend our classes on Friday morning."

"What? Why?!"

I almost laughed at her expression, but I was quick to compose myself. "Your parents paid a lot of money for you to go to college, Ken. The least you can do is graduate."

"We all know that school was never my plan. I was going to move to California and become a beach rat!"

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, because that would've worked."

"Whatever. I have a gift for you, even though you're being mean to me tonight," she said while disappearing into her closet. She came out producing a black version of her dress. "I thought you'd change your mind with everything going on," she shrugged. I sighed as she sat on the bed next to me, putting her arm around my shoulder. "You wanna talk about it? He's been gone for days and you've barely even mentioned his name."

"That's just it, I always talk to you about it. It's Damian that I need to talk with," I vented as our last argument replayed in my head.

"Damian, I have a right to know what's going on. I mean, I'm a part of your life," I told him one night after a movie. I had resisted his attempts to get physical in the hope that we could have a decent conversation that didn't involve him talking into my set of lips that couldn't talk back.

"There are some things that you should know, then there are others that you don't need to know."

"And it's at your discretion to decide whether or not I get to know these things?"

He shrugged, which tipped me over the edge. I felt my teeth grind together as my fists clenched and unclenched. I was usually a docile person, even in the midst of an argument, but the past few days after the loss of my virginity were building up into a massive pile of hurt and anger. How dare he keep the truth from me-the person he said was his partner for life?

My voice raised to a level I had never used before as I made my feelings about his tight-tongue known. "What the fuck?! Carter tells Kenna everything! She's off being the vampire whisperer and I know barely anything about what you do or what is going on in Jerusalem, with the clans in America; hell, I don't know shit about your clan! How do you think I feel when I have to scrape bits of information off of Kenna when you should be telling me everything in the first place? We're supposed to be partners...mates. I mean, you bit me and shit," I motioned harshly to my neck.

His jaw was tense as he looked at me. I could tell that he was angry, but I didn't care; I was angry too, and he needed to listen to me for once. "Just because I bit you, doesn't mean we're mates. Yes, we had sex and I bit you, but it takes more than that to confirm a mating."

I recoiled as if he slapped me. He might as well had. "So what are you saying? That we're not mates?" Even though I was beyond mad at him, the thought of us not being together hurt me to my core.

"I'm saying that a mating isn't official until both parties share blood. If you haven't noticed," he pulled down the collar to his shirt, "I have no marks. No blood was drawn. I Claimed you as my mate, but we're far from mated."

I felt the sting of unshed tears rip at my eyes. "So you just fucked me and let your friend enjoy the ride, too. Great."

His head whipped around, his eyes burning yellow. "Taylor, you don't know the first fucking thing about-," he began, but was interrupted by his phone ringing. "Andros!" He answered harshly as he turned away from me.

I stood, arms crossed, and fuming. I had never been so angry in my life...unless the time my dad stepped on my Barbie doll's head counted. I left the room, slamming the door shut. It was childish, but I didn't care. This entire argument could've been avoided if he would just open his mouth and tell me what I wanted and needed to know. I wanted him to treat me as his equal, not a child.

Damian found me in the living room. "I have to leave. There's been a summit called."

"Fine," I said, not bothering to look in his direction.

"I promise you that when I get back that we will have a discussion. There's just so much that you don't understand about a lot of things, and...ugh," he groaned, making me look up at him. He ran his hands through his hair before continuing. "We'll talk when I get back."

"Am I allowed to know when you'll be coming back?"

"If I knew, I would tell you," he ground out.

"Fine. Have fun," I said, turning to head back to my bedroom. I heard the front door slam behind me as tears fell down my cheeks.

I hadn't talked to Damian much since that argument; a couple of texts were exchanged here and there, but nothing too extensive. I ignored his calls when he did find the time to actually dial my number. It hurt, but I had a point to prove; he was not going to treat me like an afterthought.

"You know he just wants to protect you, Tay," Kenna told me, like she had millions of times before.

"That's just stupid," I huffed while getting up from the bed. "How does withholding information protect me? It really just makes me angry and not trust him."

"I don't think that Damian is up to no good, Taylor. Maybe there really are things that he thinks are just too scary for you to know for the time being. When you become a big, strong vampire, he'll tell you all the dirt," Kenna tried to cheer me up, but in-so-doing, brought up another touchy subject.

"We haven't talked about me becoming a vampire."

"Why not?"

I shrugged. "Haven't really had the chance to bring it up." Not that I would want to anyway.

I wanted Damian more than anything I had ever wanted in my life, but I wasn't sure if I was ready to become a vampire; to have to rely on the blood of another was not an appealing factor to me. Then there was the issue of actually controlling the thirst. I didn't want to kill people, but what if I couldn't stop and I drained a person dry; leaving them limp and gray in the corner of an alley? The thought had my stomach churning. "Maybe we should have a drink or two at that party," I sighed while getting up from the bed.

Kenna looked at me, her eyes were sad, but she tried to fake a smile. I tried to return it, but I was sure it came out as a grimace at best.

"I'm gonna go to bed," I told her.

I barely slept that night, even after Damian sent me a text saying where he was and that he missed me. I read the message and rolled over. I wanted to reply, but I couldn't. Not until he faced what was going on in the relationship. Not until he faced me.

Unbidden and unwanted, the night that I lost my virginity began to flood my memory. Was that only a week ago? So much had changed since then. Damian and I were seemingly happy at that time. I thought that I had lost my virginity to someone that wanted me forever, and that I wanted forever, but now everything was shrouded by gray clouds of uncertainty. Tears began to trickle down my cheeks as I tried to figure out what to do.

What could I do? It was up to Damian to tell me things, to share his life with me. I couldn't force it on him; that had already been proven. Maybe passive aggressive was the route to take.

Yeah, because that's been working out great so far.

The tears stopped, but I felt bare, empty, and afraid; somehow, I felt that this had nothing to do with Damian. He never made me feel that way, even taking our argument into account. After all, he was trying to communicate with me; I was the one holding out on him, waiting for the day that he saw what his secretiveness was doing to me. It made me angry, yes, but to feel scared and naked was another matter.

The morning brought no reprieve from my sadness and feelings of unease, only the promise of another day. I got up, showered, and went through my morning routine and found Kenna waiting for me in the kitchen, a pot of coffee already brewed. "You know me so well," I muttered while pouring a cup. I eyed my favorite mug. "Not even Mr. Froggy can bring me joy this morning," I sighed, poking the eye of the green frog with my finger.

"Taylor, everything is going to be fine," Kenna tried to reassure me, but there was only so much that she could do; especially since she wasn't the problem.

"I wish I could believe that. There's a big storm cloud hanging over my head, just waiting to explode. An entire flood is gonna fall on me and I have no clue how to even begin to tackle it."

"That's the problem, Tay. You're always trying to tackle everything. Life happens, things happen. You just have to deal with what comes. You think that something is going on that he's not telling you about, is that what you mean?"

"I don't really know," I said, unsure. I fingered my coffee mug, waiting to find some words to fit my feelings. "I just have this hunch that shit's about to hit the fan. Even last night when I was trying to sleep, stuff just felt...off," I shrugged while setting my empty mug in the sink. The clang of metal reverberated through me, exemplifying the hollowness I felt inside. I frowned and immediately turned away from the sink.

"Well, when your relationship is going through a rough time, it seems like everything else is against you, too."

I nodded, and even though I agreed to a certain extent, this situation was different. My problem with Damian and this other cloud over me, I felt, were separate; each problem obscuring the light that once made its presence known in my life.

"You ready to go?" I asked Kenna while slinging my backpack over my shoulder.

"Yeah, just need to put my cup in the sink."

I cringed as her cup clanged against the sink, reminding me, again, of my hollow state. I opened the door to the apartment to get a fresh breath of air, hoping that the act would help me to start my day off in a better direction. I had been cooped up into the apartment for so long, maybe that was playing a role in my sullen attitude. When I stepped outside, I immediately wished that I hadn't opened the door.

A wave of emotion that I had never felt before hit me like a wrecking ball would a condemned building. Paranoia wasn't really the appropriate name for it, because I knew something beyond normal was happening around me; it wasn't just a guess or fleeting suspicion. My eyes scraped through the parking lot, trying to catch anything that may be off balance. When I found nothing, I proceeded to Kenna's car.

"You still refusing to drive the MKZ?" she asked, oblivious to my preoccupation.

I was glad that she was clueless this time; I didn't need her to worry about me any more than she already did. "Yeah. It's annoying. First, he doesn't tell me what I want to know, then he forces me to drive his stupid car."

"Your stupid car," Kenna corrected me.

"I didn't even want it."

She shrugged. "But you got it."

I sighed. "And I still refuse to drive it."

I went through the motions of going from class to class, but I couldn't shake the creepy feeling that ran over my skin; it was like it was trying to part from my body. The feeling continued for days, and I was on the verge of calling Damian. I was sure that someone, or something, was watching me, but I had no idea why.

At first I weighed the option that Damian was having me followed, but I quickly ruled that thought out. Damian only had Carter watch me, and if he sent someone new, they would have presented themselves before duty. My next option was that someone was just curious about me and wanted to know more without getting too close; as if they were afraid to alarm me. Deep down, I knew this option was highly unlikely, but I clung to it anyway.

Wednesday night, I fought to sleep, like every other night that week. My hands shook with fear as I listened intently for any sounds out of the ordinary. Tree leaves and branches rustled in the breeze, there were owl hoots every so often; all of this was normal-so why was I still on edge? I had tried to fight off my fear by singing a song, thinking about what I would say to Damian upon his return; I even brainstormed for my next painting project. Nothing worked, so I left my room to find Kenna. She was sound asleep in her bed.

"Ken."

"What?"

"Can I sleep with you?"

"Thought you'd never ask," she grumbled, her voice thick with sleep.

I forced a chuckle and crawled into her bed, rolling over to face her back. I figured that looking at something other than wall or window would help me feel better. It kind of worked. My heart rate decreased gradually as my muscles continued to loosen, and I was finally able to fall to sleep.

Thursday came, and with it, Halloween. I woke up feeling different...relaxed, even. I no longer had the feeling that my skin was trying to leave my bones, I didn't feel the need to look over my shoulder constantly; freedom rang from every cell in my body, so I felt it was only fitting to celebrate. Damian's own gray cloud still loomed over me, but I would deal with that when he came home.

I threw myself into lecture and painting lab with gusto so classes went by in an easy blur. Kenna and I left school together and were instantly in party mode. Our hair was in rollers as we weaved around the apartment and each other, readying ourselves for the night's main event. If I were being honest, I would say that I missed this time I used to share with Kenna. Getting dolled up was fun, especially with the makeup expert that Kenna was. Her brushes tickled my face as she applied powers and creams that I knew nothing about, and when she was done, I looked into the mirror, not fully recognizing the girl before me.

"Wow," I said as I took in my smoky eyes and blood red lips. My hair was full of volume, which was also part of Kenna's handiwork. "It's great, Ken."

"Not yet. Look, I got these delivered on a rush order," she said holding up a box that said "Scarecrow: Custom Fangs" on it.

I laughed, "Custom and a rush order. Really, Kenna?"

"Yeah, well. It's the first time in a long time that you agreed to come with me to a party. I want it to be awesome."

"What better way to do it than with realistic fangs?"

"Indeed. I'll help you fit and set them after I'm done with my makeup and stuff. Then we can take pictures!" She squealed and clapped. I grinned, her enthusiasm was contagious.

The party was held in a house at the Mishawaka-Granger line. It was an older, but elegant house that looked Victorian; it was hard to tell because it was dark outside. There were imitation cobwebs strung from chandeliers, and in their company were fake spiders. I shuddered at how realistic both appeared. The house was lit dimly and specked with orange up-lighting and there even was a fog machine somewhere in the house that left a steady stream of grayish white smoke across the floor. I was immediately impressed.

I made a beeline for the punch bowl, that was bound to be spiked, and poured a glass; Kenna followed wanting a glass of her own. "You're eager to drink tonight," Kenna noted, glancing at me over the rim of her glass. I knew she was still worried about me, despite my shift of mood today. That worry was probably amplified now that I was drinking. I rarely ever drank; a glass of wine here or there was all I'd ever had.

"Last one," I told her, refilling my second cup as a girl that Kenna and I recognized from school made her way to where we were standing.

"Hey, Rachael!" Kenna called over the thud of music.

"Hey," I also said after putting down my now empty cup.

"Hey! I like you guys' costumes," Rachael said, motioning to me and Kenna's alternately matching ensembles.

"Thank you," I told her, smiling. "Are the fangs believable?" I opened my mouth wider to show my teeth to her.

"Actually, they look like your regular teeth! That's awesome," she laughed. "Although, I'm certain vampires don't have fangs."

Kenna dropped her cup and my eyes grew wide. Thankfully, I had time to recover before Rachael turned her attention back to me. "What makes you think that?"

"Just research that I've been doing."

"Research?" Kenna asked, composing herself into a bubbly façade while sopping up her mess with paper napkins. "Why would you want to research the undead?"

"Vampires have always interested me, even before the media went on a bandwagon-jumping, Twilight craze."

"But it did factor into your research?" I guessed.

"Of course," she gushed. "As did the Lost Boys, Vampire in Brooklyn, all of the Dracula movies known to man, the list is endless. But, there are books and old articles that I work with, too. I found that while fangs have played a key role in most vampire legends, they're unnecessary for penetration of the human skin. I found that they're more so for show than anything."

"What's your major again?" Kenna asked.

Rachael laughed. "Accounting."

"Accountant by day, vampire hunter and witch by night," I commented while motioning to her barely there costume.

She groaned. "You can tell what I am? I ditched the broom and stuff so that it wouldn't be so obvious. The minute I came in here, guys have been all like, 'hey girl, you want a piece of wood to ride?' Or 'I'll show you my magic stick'."

I stuck out my tongue in disgust.

"Really? Those have got to be the most gross and childish pick-up lines that I've ever heard, and I've heard them all," Kenna said, putting down her newest cup of punch. "Let me tell you 'bout it."

She went on with pick up line after pick up line, but I tuned her out. My skin began to prickle and crawl as the feelings of unease returned. I cursed internally as I scanned the room in its entirety. I saw nothing out of the ordinary until my eyes captured a man by the sound system. He was studiously watching me, a red cup lifted to his mouth. The man had dark hair and facial features that were too angular-he looked hard and angry.

"Taylor, you okay?" Kenna asked, breaking through my panic.

"Yeah. I just need to use the bathroom. I'll be back," I said, leaving Kenna and Rachael to talk amongst themselves.

The bathroom that I found myself in was definitely owned by a girl; the pale pink and gold color scheme as well as the neat display of towels told me as much. I turned the knobs of the golden sink and made a pool of water in my hand before throwing it against my neck. It felt refreshing against my skin. When I felt somewhat better, I turned the knobs to their original position, releasing the water of its duties. I looked into the mirror to check my hair and makeup and found myself staring at a pair of obscenely green eyes in the mirror. I recognized the hair and angry face immediately. Panic built up in me as I realized what an idiotic decision it was to leave Kenna and Rachael-that was probably what this guy wanted. To single us out and do something to us. By the look in his eyes, that "something" involved some type of one-sided sexual gratification.

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