Page 52 of My Roommate Is a Vampire

“It’s calledTikTok,” he said. “That’s the sound a clock makes, is it not? I think it was a reasonable guess.”

He had a point there. If I’d just woken up from a century-long nap, I might have reached the same conclusion. As it was, I was born just a few decades ago and I barely knew what TikTok was, either.

“Well, either way, being connected to the internet is essential in the twenty-first century,” I said. “It’s the only way people get their information now.”

“That’s probably why Reginald didn’t connect me,” Frederick said, darkly. “He fed me for a century and made sure my bills got paid so I wouldn’t waste away or be homeless when I woke up. But if, upon waking, I had reliable access to information at my fingertips it would have impeded his ability to play practical jokes on me.”

I snorted. “I think I’m going to be a nicer life assistant than he was.”

“There’s no question in my mind about that.”

He turned his attention back to my laptop. Earlier, I’d explained to him that while I wasn’t familiar with all corners of the internet or all social media platforms—for example, I’d only joined TikTok for funny cat videos and barely understood it—Iwasregularly on Instagram and could show him around.

He’d agreed readily enough, though in hindsight I realized that that was because he hadn’t known what Instagram was. Ever since I’d pulled up Sam’s page Frederick had made it abundantly clear he regretted that decision—and possibly regretted asking we engage in internet lessons together at all.

“What is the point of technology dedicated solely to sharing pictures of breakfast foods?” He sounded so baffled—almost offended, really—that I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. He was the broad-chested, gorgeous, not-quite-living embodiment of theOK boomermeme. The fact that he looked like a man in his mid-thirties only made it funnier.

And more adorable.

“Instagram isn’t just pictures of food,” I countered, trying to keep a straight face.

He pointed an accusing finger at the screen. “Your friend’s account seems to be entirely pictures of food.”

“Sam likes taking pictures food,” I admitted. “But Instagram lets you share pictures of anything you want with people all over the world. Not just pictures of food.”

He seemed to consider that. “Oh?”

“Yes,” I confirmed. “You can share pictures of important news events, or of beautiful places. And, yes, okay—sometimes people share pictures of meals they’ve enjoyed. Especially if they were somewhere special or exciting when they ate it.”

“Why would people all over the world care what your friend Sam ate while on holiday?”

I opened my mouth to respond, but then realized I didn’t have a good answer for that.

“I... don’t really know,” I admitted. “But we could take a picture of that bowl of oranges you keep on the counter for me and post that if you want. They’re pretty.”

He glanced over his shoulder at the oranges in question, then shook his head disapprovingly. “I simply do not understand this modern urge to share every errant thought one has with the entire world the instant it happens.”

“I can’t say I completely understand it, either,” I admitted. “I use Instagram to promote my art. Other than that, I don’t use social media much.”

“Then why are you insistingIlearn how to use it?” He sounded petulant, like a small child on the verge of throwing a tantrum over having to do his math homework. “If this is social media, social media seems like nothing but a noisy, invasive waste of time.”

As he continued to scowl at my laptop, I became nearly overwhelmed with sympathy for him. When Frederick fell into his century-long sleep, he’d left behind a world of handwritten letters and horseback riding. Waking up to social media and the Kardashians had to be an incredible shock. He was like an octogenarian learning how to use a computer—only worse.

Octogenarians were more than two hundred years younger than he was.

I was determined to stick with this lesson, though. Frederick may not have intended to ask me to teach him about social media when he asked about TikTok, but honestly? It was a good idea. Now that we were doing this, I wasn’t going to let him get in his own way.

“You don’t have to use social media,” I said, keeping my voice gentle. “But if you want to blend in, you need to at least know what social mediais.”

“I am not certain that is true.”

“It is.”

His full, plush lips turned down into a pout. My centuries-old vampire roommate waspouting. It was as ridiculous a sight as it was riveting. He bit his lip, and my eyes fell helplessly to his mouth. His front teeth looked no different from anyone else’s. Did Frederick have fangs somewhere, the way Reginald did?

If he pressed those beautiful lips to my throat, would he be able to feel my heart beating beneath the skin?

I still had so many questions. Some of which I didn’t dare admit even to myself.

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