Vampire High Sophomore Year - By Douglas Rees Page 0,39
went dead.
I thought about calling him back. I thought about calling Ileana and telling her everything we’d said. But what good would that do?
My phone rang. And it was Ileana.
“Justin called me, Cody,” she said.
“Yeah,” I said.
“He is very upset.”
“He’s not the only one,” I said.
“Cody, I am calling to ask you also. Please give up this idea. For me,” Ileana whispered. “I have never asked you for anything, but I am asking you now. Please give up your wonderful idea and let Crossfield be what it is.”
“What it is, is ugly and useless,” I said.
“Yes,” she said. “But there are some things even you cannot change.”
I felt sick. I felt scared. It was hard to breathe. I must have known what was coming next.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “But I have to push this thing as hard as I can.”
“But why?”
“Because … because you don’t know what you can change unless you try,” I said.
“Cody, if you do not do this thing for me, I do not want to see you again. No, that is not true. I do want to see you. But I will not.”
I couldn’t answer at first. When I thought I had control of my voice, I said, “I’ve got a couple of your books. I’ll give them back to you at school.”
I waited for an answer, but there wasn’t one. Just dead air. Then, click.
I sat on my bed for a long, long time. And I cycled through more feelings than I usually had in a month. A couple of times, I almost picked up the phone and called Ileana back. All I had to do was agree to drop my stupid idea and everything could go back to the way it was.
Except I couldn’t. Not without giving up on Cody Elliot. For the first time, I realized exactly why I was getting myself neck-deep in a swamp full of alligators. Yes, it was for Mercy Warrener, and it was for Ileana. And it might even have been for Turk. But it was definitely because I thought it was the right thing to do. And if I was wrong, I had to find that out for myself.
Life without Ileana and Justin would be one long winter day. A late, cold, gray one, covered with dirty snow. But it was the choice I had made, and I had to live with it.
I went upstairs and scratched on Turk’s trapdoor with both hands. When she came to answer it, I said, “I’ve got to get out of here. Let’s go someplace.”
“Might as well use my wheels while I’ve got ’em,” she said. “Where do you want to go?”
“Away,” I said.
“Dang, Cuz, you sound like you mean it,” Turk said. “Let’s go.”
“Where are you going?” Mom asked as we went out the door.
“Some place Cody told me about,” Turk said.
“When will you be back?” Mom asked.
“Yes,” Turk said.
“Don’t stay out late,” Mom said.
Turk’s cramped little car grumbled awake and pulled away from the curb. I wanted to be able to do this—to turn a key and drive away from things.
We didn’t talk. Turk headed west, the fastest way out of town. When we had left New Sodom behind, she turned onto a side road heading north. A sign said SQUIBNOCKET.
“I’ve always wanted to see a Squibnocket, haven’t you?” Turk said.
“Not much,” I said.
The road dipped and twisted through a range of round green hills that got higher as we went north. A strong wind was blowing the clouds south like galloping horses. Or maybe flying jenti. I wondered if Gregor was up there.
“When Mom backstabs me, or gets married or something, I always take off,” Turk said. “I drive around till I can stand to go back. Or until I run out of gas money. Doesn’t solve anything, but it’s better than nothing.”
I didn’t have anything to say. I just stayed hunched over in the uncomfortable seat.
“Sometimes I just drive around screaming,” Turk said. “I scream until my voice is totally shot. Windows up, windows down. Doesn’t matter. When you’re screaming, people leave you alone.”
“Must be nice,” I said.
“Look, you don’t have to tell me a damn thing,” Turk said. “I don’t care that much anyway. But if you want to spill your guts about it, go ahead.”
“I don’t,” I said. Then I did.
When I was all spilled out, Turk said, “Know how you feel. I had a friend once. Sucks.”
I didn’t know if she meant it sucked to lose a friend, or to have one in the