Chapter 21 – The Animal Inside

Vamped

Previously, Misty and her mother have a heart-to-heart, and her mother agreed to be stricter with Sammy and Janet. Misty invites Mark over for another yoga class to have someone on her side during the evening’s events, whatever they might be.

Wednesday

Mark met me at the end of my driveway the next morning, carrying a small duffle bag and the most shit-eating grin I'd ever seen. “Hey, what's up?” I asked cautiously.

His smile grew wider. “I'm just excited for yoga tonight.” He patted the bag.

“Is that a change of clothes? I thought we'd just hang around and watch, honestly. You know, see how things go with Sammy?”

“Well, now I'll be prepared if things go well.” He paused our walking to unzip the bag and pull out some fabric.

“Is that spandex?” I grabbed the material and ran my fingers over it. It was slick, stretchy, and not what I'd expect him to wear while bending over on my living room floor.

“Yeah. Apparently my dad was on the interpretive dance team when he was in college? He still had the leggings and we're close enough in size to share.”

I shook my head. “I don't know what to do with any of the information you've just given me.”

He stashed the fabric back in the bag, zipped it up, and gave my shoulder a little pat. “Don't worry about it,” he said as he continued walking toward our trail in the woods. I hurried to catch up with him, then watched his smile get more enigmatic as we drew closer to the high school.

Part of me was trying to think of anything that distracting I could change into after we returned home. Part of me was worrying about how Sammy would react to his competition so near me on the same day he was told to keep away. And yeah, there was also a part of me that was worried about the positive attention he might get from the yoga vamps while he was dressed in skintight pants. I was willing to admit there was a little of that.

I picked at my nails for a moment before saying, “You won't make a scene, right? I think Mom wants to give them a real chance on this, and she might change her mind if you antagonize him.”

Mark gave me a sidelong glance. “I don't think she would do that to you. But I'll be on my best behavior, if you're worried about it.” I nodded and he squeezed my hand. “I'll stick near you, so that I can head him off if he tries anything.”

“Thanks,” I said, letting out a sigh of relief.

I had hoped the school day would go by smoothly, as a counterpoint to my personal life, but there was another dose of Sadie Hawkins drama on display during lunch.

“Tickets are still on sale!” a senior said through a microphone at the entrance of the cafeteria. Or I think that's what she was saying. Someone had placed the speaker right behind her, and we were getting a lot of feedback.

Arabelle walked through the doors right then, elbowing her way past the senior, who was standing precariously on a chair in order to be seen. She was missing her entourage, but Cameron followed closely behind, oblivious to anyone in his way. He grabbed for her arm and Arabelle whipped it away, turning on him to say something. He gestured out into the hallway where the dance committee had set up their table for purchasing tickets, then back to the both of them.

She shook her head, then turned back to the room, her eyes wide and searching. They settled on a guy with the school's mascot on his baseball cap, and she weaved her way through the cluttered seating toward him.

She semi-casually sat on the edge of his table and threw her hair back, giving him a strained smile while pursing the center of her lips. He looked back at his friends, then at her. She caressed his hat while she spoke and he met her eye uncomfortably, then pointed to another girl making her way toward them. While the she approached the table, Arabelle's jaw dropped, clearly offended by getting passed over for a girl in cargo pants and flannel.

Her would-be date nudged Arabelle until she stood up fully, then took the other girl's food and set it down. The other jocks at the table started shushing everyone around them as he pulled a piece of paper out of his jeans pocket and started reciting poetry.

As he performed his cheesy writing for this cheesy spectacle, Arabelle's face went from numb, to pinched, to queasy. Yet she refused to back away. When the moment was over, she was shaking. She swiped her hand across the table, sending the girl's plate off the edge, and splattered them both with pasta sauce.

The other girl flipped Arabelle off, said, “Dude, what the hell?” then leaned in to kiss her date. She didn't look back and the other guys at the table got up and started shoving Arabelle away from them. She finally ran out then. Cam went after her.

I was secretly wishing she'd go home early and not stick around for sixth period, but was disappointed. She stormed into the classroom right before the bell chimed and threw herself into her seat. I noticed on her way in that she wasn't covered in streaks of mascara. Her appearance was far more pathetic. To cover up the puffy eyes and sour expression, she had over-applied her makeup. Even more than the fashionable trend encouraged. A thick layer of foundation – in multiple shades too tan for her – covered her from the neck up. Dark rouge swipes traveled up her cheekbones and her eye shadow wrapped all the way around each eye. Her lipstick was basically an oval around her mouth, spanning farther than I'd seen it before.

To top it off, she had clearly attempted to distract from her face and discard the tomato stains she had sported after lunch by removing the peekaboo sweater she'd been wearing all day. We all looked to Mr. Newcastle to see how he'd address a student coming to class in a lacy, corset top bra.

He took a moment to give Arabelle a toothy grin and elevator eyes. “Oh, barf.” We all snapped our heads to Catherine as she gave Newcastle the most disgusted look I've ever seen.

He pointed to the door and barked, “OUT!”

She collected her things and stood up. “Oh, you can bet I'm heading straight to the office for this.” She walked out, slamming the door shut behind her.

Our teacher apologized for the interruption, then started his lecture, ignoring his desk phone whenever it rang.

Newcastle walked out of the classroom with us, beelining for the main office as we weaved away from him and out the door. Most of the class was commenting about Arabelle's unusual outfit or her outburst during lunch or what a perv our teacher was. This would be the sort of gossip the whole school would hear about by tomorrow morning.

Mark was unimpressed. “I spent weeks focusing most of my attention on Ara last year. There's got to be something more entertaining going on,” he said, rolling his eyes. I was too petty to give up on her humiliation though, and watched her as she stalked toward the bus line next to the parking lot. A couple of underclassmen jogged up to her, smiling lewdly, but stopped suddenly when she shouted at them. I guess they were beneath her prospects.

Mark made a show of walking past the field as his teammates called out, patting his duffel bag and bragging about the yoga group he had just joined. Nobody believed him for a second, but were still very interested in the 'babes' he'd be spending the evening with.

I shook my head the whole way home, not sure what I could even say to him, and amazed he was so comfortable being teased so publicly.

Mark nudged me. “You can't tell, cuz they hide it well, but they're totally jealous.”

I sighed. “I'll be sure to tell my mother she has admirers.”

He stopped in his tracks. “You're doing it again,” he said, with a confused smile.

“Doing what?”

He shook his head at me. “They were talking about you, dip. When Alex asked if the view was worth the effort, he was talking about me waiting for you. When Shane made that comment about getting someone into downward-facing dog, he was referring to you. They think it's really sweet that I get to spend a couple hours watching you stretch and lean over in tight pants.”

“I'm not doing yoga tonight. You know that.”

He started walking again. “Yes. But they don't. They think we're in for a really hot night.” I followed him and he grabbed my hand, pulling me into his body.

“Maybe you are,” I mumbled. He gave a roguish grin and pulled me in for a kiss. “You did say you'd try to mess with Sammy while you're over, and you know I have trouble resisting your charms.

He chuckled and kissed me again. “You are my hostage, after all. You're not really in any position to refuse me.”

I snorted. “Do we need to revisit your experience hiding from me in my hollow tree?”

“I'd like to hide in your hollow tree again, if you catch my drift.” He pulled me in once more and I let myself get swept away in his lips and scent and the way his hands trailed across the sensitive skin around my waist. A few cars honked as they drove by, and eventually a bus driver yelled out the window, threatening to call our parents if we kept it up. We made our way toward our street, slipping back behind the trees to walk the trail in privacy.

We made it to my house later than usual, thanks to our interrupted meandering. The rain was falling in thick sheets, and the SUV of vampire vixens had arrived. Mom liked to serve little cocktails to her coven ladies before starting, to 'freshen them up' before they exerted themselves. Really it was a chance to gossip and catch up before the meeting actually began. We arrived right at the end of that, when everyone had finished their drinks.

Mark seemed fine, like nothing was off, but I did notice his eyes darting back to me repeatedly as we were greeted. He looked as worried for me as I was for him. I wanted him to be accepted by Mom's coven, and that wouldn't happen if he went overboard with the antagonism. He let the women fawn over him, something Sammy could only dream of. I could tell Mom hadn't had her talk with him yet, because all the others were keeping him within view, casually placing purses and palms on their backsides to block any wandering hands.

“Come here, Mark,” Olivia said, and he flicked his eyes quickly up from her thin white spandex as she pulled him into a hug. I rolled my eyes as he looked back guiltily, and gave an exaggerated shrug that I hoped communicate my indifference at his enjoyment. I didn't want him to fault me for liking the idea of his friends giving me attention, so it'd be unfair of me to resent him for it.

Amanda lightly bumped me with her elbow. “It's good to see you here again. We had such a good time last week.”

I blushed, knowing that some of them must have realized I had been lying to and avoiding them for weeks. “I'm not sure how much I want to do tonight, but I'd like to hang around if that's okay.”

Marissa leaned over the counter to whisper, “We like you hanging around more than a certain someone. You choose to keep your hands to yourself.”

“Oof,” Mark said, looking chagrined again. “Maybe I should just leave now.” The women laughed and pushed him playfully, making vague comments about where he was allowed to put his hands.

“That's enough, ladies,” Mom said, walking up behind them with a disapproving glare. “He's still a minor. And taken.”

They each raised their arms in surrender and disbursed. Mom came closer to Mark and I. “Keep them entertained for a minute. I'm worried about how Janet will react if I have an audience.” She placed her hand on Sammy's shoulder and his faced transformed into something that made my insides twist and ignite at the same time. I felt Mark grip my arm to stop me from approaching them and attacking Sammy. Mom pretended not to notice and said something quietly, nodding toward the front entryway. I heard the door open and close.

So did Janet.

“Where'd Sammy go? He was so excited to be here tonight.” She marched to the front door and opened it. “What's this, Kate?”

“I need to speak to Sammy privately, Janet. Please excuse us for a minute.”

“Anything you say to him can be said in front of me.”

There was a pause. “It's about his behavior when he's in my home and my expectations for the future. I'd like to speak to him without interruptions or excuses made for him.”

Janet huffed. “His behavior has been that of a gentleman, Kate. How could you imply otherwise?”

“Then this conversation will be short, won't it?”

Everyone in the kitchen looked at the stairwell, as if we might see through it to the audibly tense faces beyond. Finally, “I'll be having him debrief me after, so don't go making something out of nothing.”

“I promise everything we discuss will be very important. Now please excuse us.”

Janet walked back through the entry and we all pretended to sip our drinks. “The absolute nerve of her. Like he's ever done anything to hurt anyone.”

I swear every one of the other women's jaws tightened in unison.

A few minutes later, Mom came back in, with Sammy trailing behind. Janet took him by the arm and roughly led him into the back room while he mumbled to her. We all gave them a few more minutes to recover before joining. Right as we crossed the threshold, however, Mark smacked his forehead.

“I forgot to change clothes.” He looked pointedly at mine. “Is that what you're wearing?”

I sighed. “No, I need to change, too,” I said, looking at my mom instead to let her know to prepare for some spectacle after. She winked and told us they'd wait, so make it quick.

“Damn,” Mark said, loud enough for Sammy to turn back and glare at him.

He guided me up the stairs until we were out of sight, then squeezed my ass with each step. When we got to the top landing, he wrapped an arm around my waist and bit the nape of my neck. “Don't get me wrong, darling. I love how sociable you've gotten, but I miss being alone with you.

I pulled him into my room and onto the bed, where we made out for a few minutes before my mom called up to us. “Pick up the pace!” Mark rummaged through my closet and dresser, eventually handing me the camisole and the fitness leggings I had worn to his jock party that first Friday we were together.

“What about the tank top?” I asked, since he had neglected to finish the outfit.

He leaned in, nipped my ear, and whispered, “I like you better without it.”

I shivered and grabbed the clothes he picked out, then quickly pulled them on as we heard Mom call up a second time. “I'm coming!” I yelled as Mark flung apparel out of his duffel and pulled it on.

“You better not be!” she yelled back, to a chorus of cackles from downstairs. I rolled my eyes, readjusted the camisole's built-in bra, then shuffled back down with Mark in tow.

They were still waiting on us, clustered away from Sammy and giggling about something as we came in. Jamie nodded to Mark, then whispered something in Amanda's ear, who let out a barking laugh. That's when I took a really good look at Mark's outfit. I would have said he were wearing tights if they weren't capri length. They showed off his massive calves while the stretchy material boasted the power of his sculpted thighs. My face went cold, then suddenly hot when I realized they perfectly outlined his junk. I heard Amanda hiss, “It's a lot more common now, unless your parents are religious.”

I averted my eyes after that and focused on his top, which was definitely too small for him. I didn't know what kind of interpretive dance group his dad had been a part of, but they must have been popular, because it clung to every curve of his muscles. It wasn't just the way the sleeves tightened around his biceps. His pecs looked even fuller, tugging at the fabric on its way down to his abs. I tried to detach further, focusing instead on the shade of green, and how it brought out the sea green flecks in his eyes.

“You alright there, Misty? Need to sit down for a moment?” Olivia said, biting back a smile. I nodded absentmindedly and Mark steered me toward the couch.

Mom had laid down an extra two mats for Mark and I, but waved me away when I looked pointedly at them. “I just wanted them to be ready in case you decided to join partway through. You'll be out of the way on the loveseat.” We tiptoed around the other mats as Mom's coven settled in for good. I was worried we'd have to share the couch with Sammy, but he took up one of the extra mats and smiled at me.

What's his game? I wondered. Was he turning on the good ol' boy charm to win my mom back, or was this for me? Did he think he could stretch and bend his way back into my good graces? Mark placed a hand on my shoulder and started rubbing, loosening up what I had just tensed. After the initial opening and call to center, the ladies struck up their usual chatter.

“Jamie, did that butcher ever call you back about the that moose?”

“Yeah … Turns out the hunter was just trying to impress another customer. He hadn't shot a thing that weekend.”

“That's ridiculous.”

“That's what I said. He promised not to get my hopes up again unless he saw the meat himself. Olivia, how was your interview with that nightclub?”

“They were definitely surprised I was the real thing. Promised to keep it quiet, since they're not exactly running a legal business. They'll set me up with my own room, security, and pre-approved clientele. All I need to do is pick a couple nights to work each week and come out front once an hour to dance a bit onstage.”

“You just can't wait to take your clothes off, can you?”

“Actually, they told me their clients generally prefer to be teased. Said they liked the anticipation and mystery.”

Mark winked at me, reminding me of the conversation we had weeks ago about the mysterious aura I give off.

“What'll they do if someone passes out while you're sucking?”

“Oh, you know, smelling salts and grape juice. They discourage them from eating beforehand, but have snacks available in case. And for what they're paying, it's worth a little swooning from the lightweights.”

“Kate, what are you doing Saturday for your date?”

Mom blushed, looked at me, then answered. “She's keeping it a surprise, but got too excited and let slip that we'll be going to a special cocktail bar in the city where they serve us, then heading to a college bar to go dancing.”

Everyone awwed. “What are you going to do? Pick up coeds just to hang them dry?”

Mom shrugged, then led them into a different pose. “Rei says they play good music, and we look young enough to get through the door.”

“At least you won't have to worry about any of those old creeps we saw in October.”

Everyone groaned. “Remember that asshole with the chin strap? He would not give up.”

“Ugh, I know. I thought his wife was going to clock me.”

On and on it went. I couldn't imagine how they still had things to talk about after doing this every other day for a year. But each time the coven came by, they'd spend hours updating each other on plans and reminiscing about random adventures and inside jokes.

I'd always thought they were just so boring all they could think to do together was talk. But after spending so much time with Mark, I finally understood that this was what friendship looked like. Talking about nothing and repeating everything as if it were the first time everyone was hearing it. They were all completely engaged and curious about the lives of the others, in a way I'd only seen with Mark's team. It made me want to find my own group of friends, so I could look forward to hearing about their dates and job interviews and talk about memories from the old days, once they had happened.

I excused myself after awhile to heat up one of my dinner preps and Mark followed, promising not to make faces at the smell. “I'm really surprised by how well you were able to ignore him,” he said to me while I waited for the microwave to beep.

I smiled. “Honestly, it was so easy to focus on everyone else. I thought he would try to get my attention, but this might actually be the end of it.”

Mark's jaw went slack. “You didn't look at him at all, did you?”

I shook my head slowly. “Why?” I asked, stretching out the question.

“It's hard to describe, exactly, but he was definitely trying to distract you. It was kind of gross. He kept … gyrating.”

I laughed. “Oh, man, why does he think that shit will work on me?”

Mark smirked. “Because it works when I do it.”

I rolled my eyes. “Well you're closer to my age.”

He bumped his chest into mine, pushing me back to the edge of the counter and pressing his hips into mine. “And I look like this.” He gestured down to his spandex-clad body, which showed far more than I expected him to be comfortable with in front of so many people.

“One of these days, I'll have to get you naked, so I can see for sure,” I said, impressed by my own cheekiness.

“One of these days,” Mark retorted, “I just might let you.”

He made a show of holding his breath while I ate my meal of frittata with spinach, tomatoes, and peppers, then joined me back in the living room with the coven and Sammy.

Mark had been right about him. Every pose was emphatically adjusted until it was positively suggestive. But it wasn't the sort of lewdness I saw from Mark or his more brazen friends. It was as if the kid had studied a bunch of pornography featuring women, then tried to emulate it. He was a full-blood vamp, but even so, the movements looked awkward coming from him.

There was very little pelvic action, but during cat-cow, it looked like he was trying to twerk. He winked at least twice during each pose, and kept sliding his hands down his sides during transitions as if pressing breasts together. It got to the point where Mark and I were having trouble keeping straight faces, and the others in the room continued to ask if we were alright.

Finally, Mom burst out, “Misty, do I need to do a hand check?” Mark and I both raised our arms, which sent us into a fit of giggles. She pointed to the hallway then, and we sat around the kitchen until the coven finished their wind down routine.

When it was all over, everyone met us in the kitchen for goodbyes and requests to join them again soon. Mark smiled as they each hugged him, and agreed that they'd all have to do something special to officially welcome him into their yoga group. It wasn't until they were heading out the door that I remembered Sammy was even around.

Because that's when he made a point to remind me.

I assumed it was Mark's hand on my backside. But when I looked up in surprise, I saw him wide-eyed in front of me. Then another hand grabbed my chest. I tried to pull forward, but Sammy's arms went tight and he growled in my ear, “At least now I can tell people I got some.”

I saw Mark's eyes go dark just as my vision went red. Suddenly the world shifted and I was no longer looking at my livid boyfriend, but at the shithead who thought he could take whatever he could get his grubby little hands on. My fingers were wrapped around his throat and his back was shoved hard against the wall. Another hand – Mark's, I could tell – was trying to pull mine away from Sammy, but for some reason he couldn't budge my arm. I pressed the tips of my fingers deeper into the asshole's jugular and esophagus, watching shock and understanding flood Sammy's eyes as he realized what was coming next.

And then my mom stepped between us.

“Misty, please. You don't have to do this. I promise, you don't have to. Trust me, I can handle this. You don't need this, we can fix it without. Please don't do this again, I promise I'll take care of it.”

And suddenly it wasn't just Sammy in front of me, but all of the other shitheads from all these years. How I pitied their worthless parents for what I took from them. But thinking of Janet, I realized they were to blame also. She had created this monster before me and made excuses for his behavior until he did the unforgivable. Until he chose to make feel unsafe in my own home.

I hardened my resolve. “Move. I want to see it when it happens.”

“You don't have to do this,” she pleaded. “I can fix this for you. It doesn't have to end this way.”

And finally I understood her meaning. I don't have to do this to get rid of him. I let go, backing away. Mark oofed behind me as I stepped on his foot, then gently guided me away from the doorway. He told me sit down and I sat on a stool by the counter. I looked down at my shaking hands and tried to still them, but they weren't attached to me anymore.

Vaguely I heard shouting from the porch. The voice sounded furious, but it wasn't Mom's.

“How dare you let her touch him that way! This is the last straw, Kate! She needs to be locked up! I will not have my child treated this way by such a disrespectful miscreant!”

And then Mom. “You are the most hypocritical, obtuse, vapid woman I've ever met and if you don't get off my property immediately, I'll unleash my juvenile delinquent upon you, too!” She stomped into the kitchen, arms crossed and more deadly looking than I've seen her since she 'fixed' our problem with my dad.

Janet called the other women to heel, but they circled around Mom instead. “We'll be back Friday, Kate. Do understand? We have to go now, but we'll be here for you, okay?”

She shook her head and the tears started to flow. “It's such a long drive. None of you have a car big enough.”

Amanda put her hands on Mom's shoulders. “We'll buy a bus if we have to.” Then she turned to me and pulled me in for a hug. “You made the right choice, Misty. But part of me wishes you hadn't.”

I jerked my head up and saw her smirk. The rest of Mom's coven took turns patting my shoulder or squeezing my hand as Janet laid on the horn in the driveway.

When they were out the door, Mom swept me up in one of her I-just-killed-somebody hugs. But this time, it was less desperate and more comforting. “I'm so sorry,” she crooned over and over. “So sorry.”

Mark volunteered to stay the night and Mom graciously accepted on my behalf. It was awhile before I felt like speaking, so they took turns sitting with me and getting me blood and asking me questions that I didn't answer.

It wasn't until I was in the shower that I finally had something to say. “I should have just done it.” Then I collapsed in the tub and sobbed until my throat was raw. Mark pulled away the curtain, quickly turned off the water, and held me until I was ready to dry off.

Later, when he was spooning me in bed, I considered other options. “What if I just lock him in a box, and hide him in the forest?”

Mark was quick with a counter-offer. “What if you cut out his eyes, so he won't ever look at you like that again?”

“What if I chain him to the bottom of the ocean, and only give him enough oxygen for a week, so he knows I have to come back and refill it or he dies?”

“What if you surgically remove that stupid smirk from his face?”

We continued for hours, getting more and more perverse in our revenge fantasies. Mark's suggestions became more violent as the night went on, while I was partial to the psychological horror we could inflict on Sammy.

By the time I fell asleep, I didn't really believe that any of our suggestions would make me feel better. But I was comforted by Mark's willingness to think through all the possibilities before letting me decide that.