Eleventh Grade Burns(84)

As Henry put the car in gear, he shook his head too. “Man, you are acting really weird today, Vlad. You sure you’re not sucking down cold medicine?”

Vlad stared out the window as the car pulled from the parking lot. “Nope. Not me. I’m actually feeling more rational than I ever have.”

Henry turned the radio up and drove him home.

It was the best, most subtle goodbye he could give his friend.

But he didn’t have the guts to release his drudge.





38





AN UNEXPECTED ENDING


VLAD LOOKED OUT OVER THE SCHOOL GROUNDS at Freedom Fest from atop the hill behind the school, at the hot-air balloon rides being offered, at the carnival games, at the many, many booths of deep-fried everything and cotton candy, at the crowd of people all wearing smiles on their faces, and sighed. Beside him, Otis sighed too, but more out of contentment. “Otis?”

“Yes, Vlad?”

“I think it’s time we cleaned out my parents’ old bedroom.”

Vlad could feel Otis looking at him from the corner of his eye. After a long silence, Otis replied, “If you feel you’re ready ...”

He thought about the room, still charred, still home to whatever was left of his parents’ memory. He thought about all the tears he had shed and how much he wanted to remember the good things rather than the bad. With a hard swallow, Vlad said, “I do. And I want to do it tonight.”

He had to do it tonight, after all. He was leaving tomorrow night, just after midnight.

“Can I ask what brought about this decision?”

“The need for change. I’ve held on to a lot of things from my past.” Down the hill, walking hand in hand were Meredith and Joss, smiles lighting up their faces, looking very much in love. Vlad dropped his gaze to the ground between his feet. “I think it’s time I start letting go, don’t you?”

When Vlad glanced at Otis, he too was watching the happy couple. After a moment, he met Vlad’s eyes. “I think that’s a very healthy attitude. Just make sure you only let go and don’t forget the past entirely.”

Meredith and Joss disappeared into the crowd. Vlad watched the glowing balloons for a while before breaking the comfortable silence between him and his uncle. “Otis?”

“Yes, Vlad?”

Vlad wet his lips. Tonight was a night for change. A night for honesty. A night for closure. “You know I was feeding on Snow ... don’t you?”

“Yes, Vlad.”

“But you didn’t say anything, didn’t tell me you told me so, didn’t point out all of my lies.”

Otis paused briefly, as if weighing whether or not Vlad really wanted him to answer. “No ... I didn’t.”

“Why?”

“Because if all I had to do to see you eating right was listen to a few fibs about it, then so be it.” He shrugged, and it occurred to Vlad that he’d kept his secret needlessly. Otis would have understood. Otis quieted his voice some, speaking gently, as if sensing the subject was a sensitive one. It was. “Of course, you weren’t always feeding on her. There was a time midwinter that you looked completely ravenous. Was it a crisis of conscience?”

Vlad scanned the crowd, looking for any sign of Henry or October, but the faces all blended together. “Yeah ... kinda. Snow was starting to develop feelings for me.”

Otis clucked his tongue. “That’s why I never feed on drudges. It’s too easy for them to mistake the closeness of feeding sessions for romance.”

An image of Snow’s face flickered through his imagination, and Vlad felt something hard and hollow at the center of his being. He recognized it instantly as longing, but couldn’t really explain where it had come from. He missed Snow. More than he would admit. Absently, he said to Otis, “You must have had thousands of drudges by now.”

“Why would you get that impression?” Otis shook his head. “I have none, actually. Never have. I’m not comfortable with the attachment, and I’ve heard the temptation to create many is overwhelming. It’s against the law to have more than two, you know, and like the rest of Elysia, if I don’t kill them, I release them immediately.”

Vlad gaped openly at his uncle. “Is that such a common practice? To release them so soon?”

Otis looked more than a little confused. “Of course it is. I assumed you’d read that in the Compendium of Conscientia.”