Chapter 26: Twenty Six

“And even if we did, you wouldn’t die.”

He sighed and shifted his gaze back to the busy foggy street. “I wouldn’t let you die either. You believe me don’t you?”

“Yes…” I answered automatically.

He waited.

“My uncle looks like me except with brownish red hair but a little over weight. He’s diabetic. He loves playing basketball with me…” a half laugh half sob escaped my lips. “I guess I’m the only person in his small cycle of friends he can beat.”

“He seems like a lot of fun.”

I smiled. “He is. He’s kind of my best friend, the only person who loves me more than anything else in this world and accepts that I'm the weirdest teenager he knows and I'm not normal. My brain words in a different way. My eyes see something completely different from what people my age are supposed to act. I act in a not-so-sixteen way."

He white knuckled the steering wheel. “He's not the only person.”

I smiled, sadness washing over me.

“Tell me something?”

I stared up at him. “Yes.”

“Your friends back at your old school…”

“I didn’t have any.”

His confused face stared back at me. “Why?”

“Well…” I paused, deciding to be honest with him. “I don’t relate well with people my age. I think my mind doesn’t work the same way others my age do. The only friends I had were from the old age. Besides my uncle, my best friend is Carlos; he is ninety-one years old.”

“Mm,” He said absentmindedly.

I nodded.

“What is your favourite colour?” he asked me.

My eyes automatically wondered up to his silk black hair. I couldn’t possibly tell him what my favourite colour was. I blushed.

“Pink.”

“You are lying.” He returned my smile with one of his dazzling grins.

“How could you possibly know?” I crooked my head to the side and he was leaning toward me, his beautiful face just inches away from mine. I didn’t know how to breathe.

“Your heart…” He said. His breath blew on my face, stunning me. It was the same divine smell that lingered on his jacket but more obstinate. “It is special.”

I stared back at his golden eyes until he looked away. “I was wondering.” I said, fidgeting with my fingers on my lap. If you could hear the frantic beat of my heart. I wanted to ask.

He sighed and I guessed he didn’t want to answer any more of my questions.

“What?”

“Can you read minds?”

He frowned.

“You seem to know what I think or want to do all the time.”

“Something like that, it’s complicated.” And then he was suddenly smiling. "But that would be so unpleasant I've heard from a friend of mine that is telepathic that you humans... Well what goes through your minds could drive a mind reader crazy."

I blinked, meticulously astounded.

“This is hell.” I said. I wasn't particularly sure how it happened or when it started. It wasn't even my plan. It didn't appear with any warning signs. I didn't even have enough time to think about it. And each day it happened all over again, harder each time. It was a feeling so powerful that it left me breathless. It was as strange and hard to describe as it was puzzling. It was extraordinary. I was in a deep hole and there was no way out. And as the car continued down the road, the sudden realisation that I was treacherously and irretrievably in love with him struck me like a bolt of lightning. It should've been the most exciting moment of my life but it was awfully the scariest because it was full of terror and uncertainty. I was only opening myself to get hurt. Pain was surely on its way. I'd witnessed it so many times before that it left me frightened.

“Are you crying?” he sounded revolted.

I quickly ran the back of my hand across my cheek. I hadn’t realised the clamminess in my eyes had leaked.

“No.” I said my voice cracking.

“Was it something I said?”

I shook my head.

“I wouldn’t say I can read your mind, more like, I get glimpses of what you’re thinking when you let your walls fall.” he quickly said. He must've thought that's why I was crying.

“I do that?”

“Yes.” He said as frustration covered his face. “I just see flashes and images of what is on your mind. And colours, well, that all depends on what you're feeling."

“That must be hard for you?” I asked puzzled.

“I’m not used to not knowing what someone is thinking.” He sighed. “I usually sense what someone is thinking, a hunch if you will, I don’t necessarily read minds per say. I can see the being's personality, feelings, characteristics and certain memories - recent memories not older than twenty-four hours. It's called soul reading."

“But…”

“When I try to push against the wall guiding your thoughts, I get a headache.”

I smiled. “At least most of my thoughts are safe.”

He frowned. “Your soul is complicating. I can’t keep up even when you let your walls down."

The talk of souls made me think about Benjamin and a shiver rolled down my spine. I gulped. Changing the subject I mumbled, “You’re too perfect.”

“I wish you didn’t see me that way.”

“I –” I hesitated dropping my gaze and staring out of the window. I hadn’t realised we had started moving again, very slowly, at a pace that didn’t make me want to spill my guts out.

“What?” his voice was low, undeniable.

“I see you through different eyes.”

He was quiet. I looked up, hesitant, and noticed his expression was aggrieved.

“Why can’t you see me for what I am?”

“You mean the bad side of you.”

“I wish I was strong enough to stay away from you.” He said in a low harsh tone. "I wish you could hate me. I don't need you obsessing over me."

My eyes watered.

“I’m dangerous, Beth.”

“If you’re so damn dangerous then why are you trying so bloody hard to convince me?” my voice whipped out, piercing and ruthless.

“Because of what I am,” He said his tone low and soft.

“What could be worse than a witch?”

He laughed humourlessly.

“Stop the car.” I ignored the sudden trembling in my stomach.

Startled he slowed to a stop but locked the doors. “Please forgive me.”

I refused to look at him.

“I’m so very sorry.” He said. “You have to understand, I’m worried about you. You are not safe if I continue being in your life.”

“It’s not my safety I’m worried about.” I said stubbornly. “it’s not like you’re doomed, like me.”

“Do you always have to look for the good in everybody?” his tone was lighter now. “People are…”

“You’re not exactly human.” I interrupted him.

“Am I forgiven?”

I didn’t answer him.

“Please?” Bradley was staring at me curiously, the familiar edge of frustration more noticeable in his black eyes.

“Stop looking at me like that?” I couldn’t remember why I was angry with him.

As we continued down the road he mumbled, looking straight ahead. “I don’t like staying away from you. It makes me edgy.”

“But you avoided me last week. You didn’t come to school.” I hoped he didn’t hear the extreme anxiety in my voice.

“I was always close.” He told me after a minute. “But I wasn’t in the best …” he paused as though he was looking for the right words. “Shape to be around you, near anything human”

“But you came to my room.”

“No I didn’t.” his voice burned with regret. “I had to keep my distance. I stayed out by the window.”

“All night long?” I was appalled.

“Yes.” He grumbled.

“How,”

“I can never afford to gamble with your life.” He spoke through clenched teeth. “I could never forgive myself if something were to happen to you…”

“I still don’t understand.”

“Just like witches need human blood to rejuvenate and humans need a good sleep...” He sighed, deliberating. “I need essence to live.”

“Life essence?”

He searched my face, his eyes desperate. “I need the essence of living things, trees, and plants…”his face fell, “Humans.”

“How often do you need to…?” I couldn’t find the right word. “Revitalize?”

“As often as hunger strikes,”

With dread I realised that our time was over. We were in the parking lot now. A grey Audi A4 coupé was parked where Bradley usually parked his Ferrari. He parked on the spot next to it.

“Is your family like you?”

“Yes.” He grumbled. “We avoid feeding on you people. When we do feed we feed on plants.”

“Why?”

“You’re asking me why I choose not to be a murderer.” He frowned at me, his face unreadable.

“I’m asking you why you fight what you are.”

“Dad believes that animals have equal rights to humans.” He smiled. “Satisfying our hunger isn’t worth someone’s life.”

I nodded.