Eleventh Grade Burns(49)

“So what do we do?”

“We do what all families do. Grin, bear it, and pass the mashed potatoes.”

Otis turned the wheel, pulling his car into Henry’s driveway. Vlad had pulled into this driveway countless times before in the seat of many different cars. Only this time, it felt different. This time it felt less like Vlad was arriving at his second home and more like he was about to enter the Temple of Doom. Holding his breath, Vlad opened the door and stepped out into the chilly November air.

It took Otis and Nelly a few seconds to exit the car. Vlad would have bet that Nelly was taking a moment to tell Otis that it meant a lot to her that he was joining them for Thanksgiving, and that Otis was reassuring Nelly that he’d be on his best behavior. Vlad, however, wasn’t about to make that promise. He’d keep his distance from Joss, but so help him if his former friend whipped out a sharp hunk of wood ...

It wasn’t that he hated Joss—he didn’t. And it wasn’t that he felt that vampires were better than slayers—they weren’t. It was the fact that he and Joss were being forced together by their own aunts, the two people in the world who should’ve wanted them to stay as far apart as possible. After all, Nelly knew what Joss had done—she’d seen the bandaged wound, had wept at his bedside as he healed, still flinched whenever Vlad talked about his time in the hospital. She’d listened to Vlad when he’d needed to talk about his friend’s brutal betrayal, and she’d spoken words of comfort when Vlad needed to hear them. Most importantly, she backed off when he needed to be alone with his thoughts, understanding that no one else on the planet could make things a hundred percent okay for Vlad ... not even her. So it hurt that Nelly had agreed to dinner with the McMillans, knowing that Joss would be there. In a weird way, it felt like she was choosing Joss over Vlad. That bugged him ... and he wasn’t sure why, exactly, except for the fact that she was his guardian. She was the one who was supposed to have his best interest at heart. Why she would want him to spend the day with the person who had tried to kill him? But deep down, Vlad knew that she would never put him in harm’s way. He couldn’t put his finger on exactly why today bothered him so much. Maybe it was because Joss had claimed Bathory as his hometown, the McMillans as his family, and Meredith as his girl. He couldn’t have Nelly. She was all Vlad had left, apart from Otis, and Vlad was pretty sure that Joss didn’t want him.

Otis and Nelly joined him and the three made their way up the steps to the front door. Otis stood protectively with his hand in the small of Nelly’s back. Vlad rang the doorbell, but only for a microsecond, because Matilda had whipped open the door and rushed them all inside, greeting them each with warm hugs and holiday wishes.

It was impossible not to smile with Henry’s mom in the room.

In moments, their coats were off and Nelly and Matilda were chattering about a new stuffing recipe that Matilda was trying out this year. Henry was nowhere to be seen, so Vlad excused himself, slipped his shoes off, and headed upstairs to look for his best friend. When he reached Henry’s bedroom door, he paused at the raised voices within.

“You’re family, Henry. I care about what happens to you.”

“Joss, if you give me that crap one more time, I’m gonna punch you so hard your toes are gonna bleed. You’re not doing any of this because of some ridiculous need to protect your family. You’re doing it because you have a screwed up perception of what vampires are and Vlad got in under your radar, proving that perception wrong. It’s spite and you know it.”

“You only say those things because he has you confused. That’s what they do, Henry. They mess with people’s minds and get them to act in ways they normally wouldn’t. You’re better than this, Henry. You’re better than his mindless drone. And I’m going to set you free, one way or another.”

Vlad heard Henry step twice and then he exited the bedroom, his face flushed, his entire being seething with anger. When he saw Vlad, he calmed down a bit. “Let’s go eat turkey before I beat the crap out of my cousin.”

The way he said it, Vlad wasn’t sure if Henry wanted to eat instead of beating Joss to a pulp, or if he just didn’t want to do it on an empty stomach.

Once downstairs, they were met with the scent of a succulent Thanksgiving dinner. Henry’s dad, who everyone called Big Mike, and Otis were in the living room, exchanging opinions about human politics with a good-looking tan man who looked like a thirty-seven or thirty-eight-year-old version of Joss. It could only be Joss’s dad. Nelly and Matilda were chattering away in the kitchen, finishing up last minute preparations. A rail thin, pale woman, her cheeks somewhat hollow, the expression in her eyes haunted, placed warm rolls in a basket. She flinched as Vlad and Henry entered the room, knocking a butter knife to the floor. Vlad bent and retrieved it, giving her a smile as he dropped it in the sink. When he met her eyes, he realized that Joss didn’t just look like his dad. Her eyes mirrored her son’s. Vlad took a seat on the stool next to her, but slowly. Any faster and he was afraid she’d bolt. She seemed so tormented, so on edge. He felt bad for her. “You must be Joss’s mom. I’m Vlad.”