Page 16

CHAPTER

SIXTEEN

The Fairgoods showed up at the Fletcher house at seven on the dot.

Fairgoods are only ever late on purpose, Theo’s dad liked to say. To show them we don’t give a shit about them. If you’re ever late, it has to be a ‘screw you.’ Not because you got stuck in traffic.

Everybody was already inside, sitting around their too-big dinner table. Felicity was seated next to Aaron, makeup at its normal level for the first time in days. It looked like she’d finally gotten enough sleep.

Theo immediately made a beeline for her as his parents exchanged the usual boring pleasantries with Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher.

“Hi, asshole,” he whispered as he slid into the seat beside Felicity, letting relief bleed into his voice: he needed as many people on his side as he could get tonight .

“Bitch,” she replied. Her hair was up in a sleek, pale ponytail, like it always was around Aaron’s family. They preferred her with it up.

He raised his eyebrows expectantly. How bad is it?

The side of Felicity’s full, pink mouth twitched down. Bad. Good luck.

Theo held back a groan as his parents sat down across from him.

Aaron leaned around Felicity, snapping his fingers at him. “Hi, Theo. I’m here too, Theo.”

“Hi, Aaron,” Theo said, trying to keep the wariness out of his tone. He might be closer with Aaron than Felicity these days, but if Aaron’s parents had decided to be pissed off at Theo this week, that meant Aaron would follow suit.

Theo tried not to think about what that would mean if they were hunters. If they figured out Theo was a vampire. He wanted to believe Aaron would choose him over his family, if it came down to it. He just didn’t know if he could.

Mr. Fletcher sat down after the obligatory back-slapping hug from Victor. “Thank god. We’ve been staring at this food for ten minutes. Didn’t my wife do a good job?”

Mrs. Fletcher preened. Everybody said she was the reason Mr. Fletcher stopped being so reserved in his late teens—she was a free spirit, always throwing parties and hosting fundraisers and making connections. Whenever they went out, Mrs. Fletcher would get sidetracked talking to people. Aaron joked that they had to allow an extra half hour before a movie so she had time to catch up with the person who owned the theater.

“It looks wonderful,” Carol told her.

“It’s great,” Theo agreed, looking over the table—a platter of fish stuffed with herbs, shiny potatoes, salad gleaming with creamy dressing, bread buns still steaming from the oven. A few weeks ago he would’ve been excited—they didn’t do family meals at the Fairgood house anymore, and Theo had gotten used to dinners that required the least amount of effort after finishing his homework—but now, he felt nothing. The salad was just leaves. The fish was dead, artificially warm from the oven.

As everybody passed around the food, Mr. Fletcher said, “We were just talking about Felicity jumping back into gymnastics. Isn’t that great?”

Felicity paused. The look on her face meant that they hadn’t been discussing anything close to that, but she caught herself easily, sending the table a tight smile. “It’s really not that big of a deal. I won’t be competing or anything. And modeling still comes first. I have that sparkling water ad coming up and my agent says it's going to be very big.”

She said the last part forcefully, as if she could make it true if she said it loud enough. Modeling comes first. Theo wondered what her mom thought of that. Theo still remembered Mrs. Beverly Sloan—who still insisted on being called Mrs. even though her husband had died when Felicity was small—showing up to a sleepover and demanding Felicity come home and practice her tumbling. They didn’t even have a competition coming up. It’s about the discipline, she had insisted as she dragged Felicity out the door.

“Still,” Mrs. Fletcher said, raising a glass of white wine. “Our very own rising star. We’re so glad our boy finally snapped you up.”

“It was a very smart choice,” Carol agreed. She tossed a look at Theo, widening her eyes pointedly.

Theo ignored her, spooning two small potatoes onto his plate. He’d tried explaining to his parents that he was genuinely happy his friends were dating each other, even though, yes, he used to have a crush on Felicity.

You two would have made a powerful duo , Carol had said dismissively. But you waited too long. Aaron will hold onto that girl, mark my words. He knows what’s good for him.

Carol kneaded her forehead.

Mr. Fletcher frowned. “Are you alright, Carol? Are you feeling faint?”

“I’m fine,” Carol said, as she always did. “I just need more of this wonderful fish. I was too busy for lunch today.”

Theo watched her anxiously. Carol insisted she was fine through all her dizzy spells. Even when Theo was nine and found her crawling to the kitchen. He’d had to bring her a peanut butter sandwich and a chocolate bar, watching her eat them both as her eyes drooped. Victor carried emergency chocolate in the pockets of his slacks after that, just in case his wife’s blood pressure tanked. A sweet for my sweet, Theo heard him say once, pressing a kiss and then a chocolate to her grinning mouth.

Theo’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He snuck a look.

It was Kade. good luck infiltrating fletchers. remember to ask questions but BE SUBTLE ABOUT IT BLOOD BOIIIIII.

Theo rolled his eyes. Infiltrating . Like Theo wasn’t over at this house once a week hanging out with Aaron. At least Theo had deleted all the emojis Kade had put after his name when he’d keyed his number into Theo’s phone.

“What are you looking at?”

Theo looked up guiltily. Victor stared at him from across the table. He’d picked the seat directly in front of Theo, probably so he could stare the most effectively. It reminded Theo of that time Victor scared off a barking dog just by glaring at it.

“Nothing,” Theo said, stuffing his phone back in his pocket. “That funeral was today, right? The Lemmings guy?”

“Bet it was packed ,” Aaron muttered.

Felicity laughed, a beat too late. She sucked a pea off her fork, spinning her knife in her other hand.

“Hey now,” Mrs. Fletcher said warningly. But she was smiling, that small smile that meant she agreed with every word her son said.

Mr. Fletcher said, “I’m just glad that house can finally get bulldozed. That old fag did nothing to fix it up for decades.”

Victor clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “None of that. We’re in the twenty-first century, if you haven’t heard.”

Theo stared down at his plate with the same deep focus as his friends next to him: three bisexual teens hoping the adults didn’t notice that they got suspiciously quiet whenever the subject of queerness came up.

“Right,” Mr. Fletcher said, smiling tightly. “Sorry. Anyway, you know we tried to convince him! I heard people used to sneak in to mow his lawn. Maybe that’s how he died—he finally caught ’em and he took horrible offense to someone trying to fix up that pigsty. They stabbed him in self-defense.”

He slapped Victor’s back, laughing heartily. He was one of the only people allowed to touch Victor beyond a handshake, and even then there were times when Victor went stiff under his hand. Like now—still smiling, even laughing a little. But he looked at Mr. Fletcher like he’d better drop his hand, and Mr. Fletcher did.

Carol shuddered. “Ugh, let’s talk about something more pleasant. I can’t stand to think about that man or that place. It’s awful, what happened.”

“Awful,” Mr. Fletcher echoed. He coughed into his meaty fist. “No, you’re right. Let’s change the subject. So, the game got rescheduled! How’d you pull that off?”

“Nothing you can make us admit to,” Victor said, slicing his portion of fish into pieces. He always did that: small cuts until everything was in tiny bits. Only then would he eat.

Mr. Fletcher let out a booming laugh. He went to slap Victor’s back again. Then he thought better of it, hand coming back to smooth his own gelled hair back. “Well, even if Theo did let us all down, that was one hell of a jump! All that training really paid off. You should’ve seen him a few days ago on our court, he was running rings around our boy, wasn’t he, son?”

Aaron grunted. “It’s all the steroids.”

“Ha ha ha,” Theo said, too loud. He sent a nervous glance at his parents. The one and only time Theo joked about being on steroids, they made him lift weights until he cried. It wouldn’t be so bad now, with his newfound vampire strength, but he couldn’t take the humiliation again. They had sat there the whole time, giving him heavier and heavier weights as his arms shook and sweat soaked his clothes.

I thought you wanted me to win at any cost, Theo had croaked later, trembling in a bathtub full of ice cubes.

His father had given him a tired look. If you need drugs to win, you don’t deserve to win at all , he’d said. Then he’d emptied another bag of ice into the bath.

Theo still didn’t understand—his parents were fine with lying, cheating and stealing their way to the top, but they drew their line at drugs?—but he wasn’t going to ask questions. He didn’t dare.

Victor sliced through a fish eye. He always took the head. “Theo knows what we’ll do to him if he ever does anything harder than whiskey.”

Everybody laughed. Theo laughed along with them, slowly realizing he could never get drunk again. That was disappointing. He liked drinking, even though he liked it as a once-every-few-months activity rather than a several-times-a-week activity like some of his classmates.

He wondered how much Kade drank. He was always wasted when he showed up to parties, and Felicity had mentioned that Kade was her most loyal customer when it came to her mom’s booze stash. Definitely more of a several-times-a-week guy.

“He really was something,” Mrs. Fletcher said, jolting Theo out of his thoughts. “Right up there—whoosh! Even cleared the backboard!”

“Aaron said it was like he flew,” Felicity agreed, pointy chin in her hand. She was still twirling her butter knife in her hand.

Theo picked at his potatoes anxiously, eyeing the potential hunters. Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher didn’t look suspicious, like he’d worried about. They just looked jazzed about the star player. Aaron looked annoyed, but the normal kind, the kind he always got when it became obvious that Theo was better at basketball than him. No murder on his mind. No ridding the world of the vampire scourge , or whatever hunters believed.

“Here’s hoping he can bring that same energy to that same game next Friday,” Victor said mildly. “ Strangest thing—Coach wanted to push it back another week.”

Theo put his fork down. “What? Why?”

“I don’t know. He got really worked up about it.” Victor popped the other fish eye into his mouth, ignoring his wife when she looked away in disgust. “I never liked that man. He doesn’t care enough about his job. Whatever you do, you have to go all in.”

Theo hummed in agreement, distracted. He didn’t hear his dad’s utensils stop until it was too late.

“Why aren’t you eating?”

Theo looked up. Victor was staring at him again. It was never, ever good when Victor stared at him. It could be something small—an offhand comment, or a warning—or it could be big, like making him lift weights until he cried or stand in one place overnight, no sleep, legs trembling with effort of staying upright.

“I’m still not feeling great,” Theo tried.

Carol frowned. “Really? It’s been all day.”

“Yeah, but…”

“The Fletchers made you a wonderful meal,” Victor said, voice low. “You aren’t going to eat it?”

Felicity started, “Sir, if he’s not feeling well?—”

“Maybe just a little,” Mr. Fletcher said over her. “Settle your stomach.”

He gave Theo a broad smile. Theo smiled back, thinking of that small fry and all the black vomit it had produced. He looked down at his plate—a small handful of potatoes, a lump of fish, a single bread roll, and a few limp leaves of lettuce.

Aaron leaned behind Felicity and tapped Theo on the shoulder.

Theo looked over.

Aaron motioned at the bread. Easy , he mouthed. He’d gotten sick with the flu last summer. Theo spent most of that week in Aaron’s room watching the wrestling channel and eating plain bread with broth while Felicity lounged across their legs, painting, cleaning, and then repainting her toenails.

Theo lifted the bread to his mouth and chewed. It tasted like sludge. He ate slowly, letting the conversation continue without him, and by the time he finished the roll he hoped it was over. But as soon as he swallowed the last bite, his dad looked expectantly at the rest of his plate.

Theo kept eating.