Crimson Death (Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter #25)(73)

Then I heard Aunt Linda’s voice somewhere in the back of my mind. You only have control over your own actions. But what have you done to meet him halfway?

Nothing.

I’d never even gone to one of his basketball games.

And he’d never guilted me about it. Not even once.

Now that I thought about it, I hadn’t gone out of my way to do something just for him that didn’t benefit me in any way. I’d been so focused on what I wanted from Will that I’d never really stopped to think about what he might want from me.

What did that say about me?



Juliette had set up a vision board.

I reminded myself to introduce her to my mom sometime, while she stood in front of the board in jeans and socks. Niamh, Lara, and I sat in a row on her bed, a well-behaved, captive audience. The girls were about to get ready to head to the basketball game. And I was, to be honest, not sure what I was doing. I’d already dressed and prepared for the gig, but sound check didn’t kick off until later that night. I’d been planning to hang out with the girls until they left for the game, at which point I might grab some dinner and go hang at home alone for an hour or so.

But, before that, it was vision board time.

“So, here’s a little kid with a clarinet,” Juliette explained, indicating one of the printouts she’d pinned to a poster board. “That represents my plan to get an after-school job teaching clarinet. I could use the money next year, and it should strengthen my application, and make sure I’m forced to keep practicing.”

The three of us nodded agreeably.

“The picture of the A-plus paper represents the fact that I am going to nail my subjects next year. I want the strongest GPA I can swing if I’m going to get into the Conservatory.”

More nodding.

“And, of course, we have the Conservatory itself over here. I’m gonna spend all year studying, and practicing, and perfecting myself before the next round of auditions. I’m not gonna be going to any frat parties. I will be committed.”

“No frat parties?” Lara asked skeptically.

“Okay, some frat parties. But mostly, next year’s version of Juliette is a girl on a mission. I am good enough to get in—”

“Yes,” I said firmly.

“And I am not going to let myself be locked out of where I wanna be, and where I deserve to be. I don’t have connections, and I don’t have parents who can make donations to the school right before application day, but I do have talent. I am going to be so perfect, they won’t have any excuse to turn me down next year.”

“Yes, Juliette!” Niamh said.

“Just because I didn’t get in on my first shot does not mean I have to give up my dream. It only means I have to work that much harder than some people to get there.”

“If anyone can do it, it’s you,” I said, and Juliette skipped forward to bowl me onto her bed in a bear hug.

“Can I borrow your eyeshadow?” Niamh asked Juliette, getting to her feet and wandering over to the desk. “We’ll need to go soon.”

“Why do you want eyeshadow for a basketball game?” Lara asked.

“It’s a big game for Darnell. He’s been walking on air all week.”

“Wait, so you two have been talking again?” Juliette asked. She bent in front of the desk to pull out a few palettes, crusty with dried makeup powder, and handed them to Niamh along with an eyeshadow brush.

“Yeah, we have. I think he needed some time to process the New York thing, but he called me a little while back and apologized.”

Huh. So he had listened. That, or the guys had shamed him into it after I left the table that day. Either way, I was basically Jerry Springer now.

“Anyway,” Niamh went on. “It’s a big deal for him, all right? This is the first time they’ve ever gotten into the regionals round.”

Something pricked at me. Something that felt an awful lot like guilt. “I didn’t realize it was such a big thing,” I said.

“Huge,” said Niamh as she held a compact mirror up to work a purply-taupe color onto her lids.

I looked down at my hands. So that’s why Will had seemed so gutted when I’d turned him down. Now that I thought about it, the way he’d asked me to go along was way too casual. The kind of casual that only comes out when the speaker wants to sound like something that’s really important to them doesn’t matter at all.

It turned out I could be pretty oblivious when it came to the person I apparently loved.

How many times had I said to Will that I just wanted him to do something because he cared about me, not because I asked him to?

So why hadn’t I done this for him because I cared about him?

I should be there tonight.

“You know, sound check doesn’t start until a bit later,” I said. “I wouldn’t be able to stay for the whole game or anything, but maybe I could come for the first quarter or two.”

Juliette squealed and abandoned zipping up her knee-high boots. “Yes, Ollie-oop! Come with us, it’ll be so much fun.”

Even if it wasn’t fun, which I seriously doubted it would be, Will wanted me there.

And it wasn’t always about me.



Admittedly, the vibe at the game was pretty exciting, even for someone who didn’t care about sports. Most people in the crowd either wore or held something with their school colors, and banners and streamers waved around wherever you looked. On our side of the stadium, the Collinswood High cheerleading team was putting on a much more impressive—if less adorable—show than I’d been treated to on Thanksgiving, complete with flips, lifts, and twirling.