Chapter 231
Funeral. That should be a four-letter word. I was tired of them. I never wanted to attend another one again, and as I sat there, looking around at all of the faces, part of me couldn’t help but wonder who might be next. I assumed it would be one of my grandmother’s elderly friends, but really, who knew?
How ironic was it that my grandma couldn’t bear to attend Elliott’s, but he was at hers? My grandma had left a will which stated she did not want a big production, so the service was held in the church she’d been attending for the last several years. No one else from LIGHTS who wasn’t already at our house came, and Brandon decided to stay at Grandma’s house and wait for us since he’d never met her. We all respected that and thought it went along with what Grandma had said about not making a big fuss.
After the pastor spoke a few words about what an amazing, generous person Grandma Janette was, one of the ladies from church sang my grandma’s favorite hymn, which she specified in her will she’d like to have sung, and I tried to listen as the refrain from “Will There Be Any Stars in My Crown?” filled the small space, but mostly I was thinking about other things, trying not to think about how much I’d miss Grandma’s cookies, her soft hands, the way her smile made you feel like you were worth a million bucks.
After the service, we had a luncheon in the adjacent social area of the church. There seemed to be more little old ladies with covered dishes than anyone else present, and many of them patted me on the arm and told me how much Grandma Janette had meant to them. I fixed my plate with little spoonfuls of a dozen different casseroles and then went and found a seat at an empty table. My family was milling around, and Elliott appeared to be testing the strength of his paper plate. I stared down at mine, willing the teardrops not to come.
“This seat taken?”
The sound of Brandon’s voice startled me, but I smiled when I realized it was him. “What are you doing here?” I asked as he sat down in the seat next to me.
“Are you kidding? When your sister mentioned a buffet, I was here like cheese on a burger.”
I giggled, wondering how that meant quickly. “I’m afraid they don’t have any of those. Although, there is this concoction,” I pushed my spoon against a clump of rice in some sort of chicken dish. “So, I guess you could’ve been here like white on rice.”
Brandon groaned but smiled at me. “You okay?”
I let out a deep sigh and leaned back in my chair. “I guess so. I mean, I will be. It’s hard right now, but once I get out of here, start to focus on other things, it’ll be easier to remember that Grandma is where she wants to be.”
“Right,” he agreed. “You don’t think it’s totally lame that I didn’t go to the service but came for the food, do you?”
Once again, I was laughing. “Nah, Grandma loved to feed people, especially growing boys.” I glanced at what he was wearing—khakis and a red button-down shirt. “And you look nice.”
“What? This old thing?” Sometimes he sounded just like his father. “Thanks.”
“Go fix a plate before your dad eats it all,” I said, shoving him with my shoulder. He didn’t have to be told twice. I watched a quick exchange between him and Elliott before my recently resuscitated friend came over and sat on the other side of me. “Ever heard of seconds?” I joked.
“Seconds are for the weak,” he replied, winking at me.
“I think your plate would disagree.” I was in a good enough mood now that I tried some of the casseroles. One in particular wasn’t half bad, and by the time Brandon came back, I felt a lot better. I was beginning to realize that the thin line between life and death was more like a wave that didn’t always crest or break at the same point. Nor could you catch it in your hands without it slipping through your fingers.
My grandma’s house is about three blocks from the church, so while most of the “grownups” continued to chat and eat too many oatmeal raisin cookies, Brandon and I decided to walk back. Even though it was early February, the cold air had no effect on either of us; the jackets we wore were for show only, and as we walked along, the breeze picked up my hair, lifting it and my spirits.
“So… is it true you’re moving to headquarters soon?” he asked about halfway to Grandma’s house.
I turned and looked at him for a moment, wondering who had told him. I’d hoped to do that myself. “Yeah,” I said. Once Aaron had approved it, the green light was on. Now, all I had to do was relocate my life of sixteen years a few hundred miles. No big deal.
“Cool,” he said, his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat. “Now I’ll have a classmate.”
I laughed. “I doubt we’ll have any of the same classes.”
“Not true. I’m a full year behind.” He winked at me, so like his dad, and I felt the red creep up my face.
“Well, I’m a couple of years ahead,” I countered, straightening the front of my deep purple dress absently.
“That I don’t doubt.” He didn’t miss a beat.
Looking up at him, I asked, “Why is that?”
“Cause you’re super smart, Cass. Everyone knows that.”
I raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything else about that. “I wanted to tell you myself.”
“No, it’s cool,” he replied. “I’m just glad it’s true. Heard your parents might be coming, too.”
“Yeah,” I nodded. They were working on it, which seemed a little odd to me still, but I was happy.
“Guess neither one of us will be escaping parental supervision anytime soon after all.”
I smiled and slipped my arm through his as we headed up my grandma’s drive. “I’m sure you feel differently about that than I do. At least I know my parents.”
“Yeah, but Elliott’s a great guy. Y’all were right about that. And he hasn’t been too ‘dad-like’ yet, although he has mentioned more than once how I better treat you.”
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Letting go of Brandon’s arm, I felt above the ledge on top of the door and pulled out Grandma’s spare key. Most of the time, she was home when we got here, but she’d hidden it there a long time ago just in case. I unlocked the door and put it back. As we entered her house, which seemed empty despite all of her belongings still being here, I said, “You’re always a gentleman.”
“Not always,” he countered, following me to the couch. “I wasn’t the other night.”
I narrowed my eyes and stared at him as we sank onto the couch. “What are you talking about?”
“Listen, Cass, I remember what you said in Philly, about being friends, and even though that’s not what I want, it wasn’t right of me to assume that you were ready for something else yet. I’m sorry I tried to push my feelings on you too quickly.”
My mouth hung open for a moment in disbelief as I tried to figure out how to respond. “No,” I finally said, shaking my head. “That’s not what happened at all.”
Now it was his turn to be confused. “It’s not?”
“No. Not even a little bit.”
Brandon scooted back on the couch. “Then… what was it?”
I let out a loud sigh and dropped my eyes to the well-worn carpet between my feet. I decided I may as well tell him. The worst that could happen was that he could laugh at me uncontrollably like my sister had. “Well, honestly,” I said, glancing up at him and then away again, “it’s… my fangs.”
He wasn’t expecting that. I could tell by his silence. I turned my head and looked at him and watched his eyes twitch as he mulled that over. “Your… fangs?”
“Yeah,” I said, happy to have finally gotten it out there. “I’m afraid I might… bite you.”
I expected him to laugh—but he didn’t. “Oh.” Brandon rested his head back on the top of the sofa, something he was tall enough to do. He sat like that for a long time before he pulled his head up and turned to look at me. “I don’t think that would happen, Cass.”
I arched my eyebrows. “No?”
“Nah.”
“But what if it did?”
He shrugged. “I mean, even if your fangs did come out, I don’t think you’d bite me. You mean—on the mouth, right? Like an accident? Not that you’d be tempted to sink them into my jugular, don’t you?” I nodded. “Nah. That wouldn’t happen.”
“But what if it did?” I asked again.
“Then I’d say ‘ouch’ and go on about kissing you,” he shrugged, not even wavering a little bit in his confidence.
I tried to hide the small smile now playing at the corners of my mouth. “But don’t you think it’d be slightly embarrassing?”
“For you? Why?”
“If I bit you?”
“What? Like I’m gonna write a blog post about it or send an Insta about it? Cass, I’ve dreamed about kissing you for weeks—months even. If it means I lose a few drops of blood, I’m okay with that.”
I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks. I should’ve known the person I needed to talk to about this wasn’t my sister. Since I apparently thought I was at confession, I blurted, “I don’t even know how.”
Once again, he seemed surprised, but he hid it well. “That’s okay. It’s not hard.”
“It’s not?” I realized his lips were getting closer to mine again, and I swore that if my sister or anyone else chose that moment to make their appearance, like this was a stupid romance movie, I would test out my fangs after all.
Brandon reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from my face and then gently laid the palm of his hand against my cheek. I wasn’t sure what to do with my hands, so I didn’t move them. He slipped his other one around my shoulders, and I closed my eyes, deciding to stay perfectly still and let him take the lead. When his lips brushed against mine, I felt warmth radiate throughout my flesh, like the little electric sparks Elliott had mentioned dancing around the edges of the blue moon portal had invaded my body. I leaned into him, and felt him prompting me to open my mouth, which I did. He was right. It wasn’t hard at all, and kissing Brandon seemed as natural as breathing. No fangs—but a smile did make an appearance--and when he pulled back, I opened my eyes to see him smiling, too.
“See? Not hard.”
“Nope,” I agreed as the sound of an engine in the drive let me know we’d finished our experiment just in time. At least I wouldn’t have to murder anyone today.
Brandon slid over a little bit and cleared his throat as my family came in the door. His hand was still in mine, and I had a feeling the impression of his lips on mine would linger for a long time to come.
