Vampire 01 - Daughter of Darkness

of our relationship and be dying to ask me questions or just hear me talk about us. He’d invite me to dinner at his home, and I’d invite him to mine. We’d see the world through four eyes and not two, hear the world through four ears, feel it through twenty fingers, and smell it through two noses, all of it merging into one feeling, one reaction. We’d giggle about anything and everything, comfort each other whenever one of us was unhappy about something. I’d be beside him at school ball games. In short, we’d be an item, the perfect couple, instead of two separate souls meandering awkwardly through our lives as if we had lost our senses. Everything wouldn’t be about only me.
    Most of all, I’d feel even safer, more secure, knowing there were two strong arms ready to embrace me whenever I needed to be embraced when Daddy wasn’t around. He wasn’t with us every minute of the day, was he? I would have Mark’s shoulder to lean on whenever I needed comfort.
    No, Marla
, I thought.
Although I can’t explain it to you in a way you might appreciate, believe me, it wasn’t good work. I did what I was told to do, but it didn’t make me happier.
In fact, for the first time in my life, I wasn’t happier that Daddy was pleased with me. It was a feeling I had never expected. It frightened me, because I thought Mrs. Fennel would take one look at my face and know.She would tell Daddy, and they would have a serious discussion about me, about whether I was good enough to be one of his daughters after all.
    I did my best to avoid her eyes without revealing that I was doing it. She didn’t seem to notice any difference in me. Daddy was still sleeping, of course. Ava had gone to class. Marla asked me to help her with some homework. I was happy to, because it kept me from thinking about everything. She started to ask me about Mark again, expecting to hear how happy I was now, but I cut her off.
    “It’s better if we both just forget about him, Marla. It’s not good to bring him up. Daddy wouldn’t like it,” I added to put a firm period to my sentence.
    She nodded and returned to her work. I had shut Mark out of her mind, but I hadn’t been able yet to shut him out of mine. I wondered what he was doing now. Had his parents noticed how upset he was? Did they ask him about it? What sort of a relationship did he have with them? Would he confide in his father, perhaps, tell him about this beautiful girl in school who completely rejected him? Look for sympathy, advice? Would his father tell him something that would renew his hope, and would he try again if and when he returned to school tomorrow? What would I do then? Would Daddy tell me to go to the dean? Would some invisible circle be drawn around me that Mark was never to cross? How stupid would all of this make me look? How much more difficult would it be for me to continue at the school? Ultimately, would Daddy take me out, and if he took me out, wouldn’t he have to take Marla out as well? It was all so troubling.
    Just before dinner, Ava came to my room. She had ano-nonsense look on her face, as if she had come to the end of her patience.
    “What happened with this boy?” she demanded.
    I told her everything, except, of course, how I really felt about it.
    “That’s such a crock of crap,” she said. “It’s another ploy to get at you. He’s playing for sympathy. Don’t even acknowledge that you realized he was gone. That will drive it home like a stake through his heart.”
    She sounded so bitter, so angry. I wondered how she would feel if she saw him, met him. Would she at least understand why I wasn’t happy?
    “You really and truly never regretted not having a boyfriend in high school, Ava?”
    “No. They were all too immature for me. And where was I going with it if I started a high school romance? What was true for me is true for you, Lorelei. Don’t you realize that yet?”
    “I do. I just wondered.”
    She gave me one of her scrutinizing looks again, the sort that made my insides curl.
    “What?”
    “Maybe… maybe you should ask Daddy about all this,” she suggested. The threat and implication that lay beneath that idea were clear. “Maybe he should know you have these thoughts.”
    “You mean you won’t go running off to tell him?” I shot back at her.
    “No need to,” she said with a crooked smile. “You know Daddy can see through you, can see through all of us.”
    Why was she being like this? Was she taking out on me what