Page 19 of Road Trip with a Vampire
“I’ve been in your apartment,” Becky mused. “There’s no way a guy that big slept on that tiny sofa.”
“It’s true, though,” I protested lamely. “Or at least I think that’s where he slept. Maybe he slept on the floor. Or not at all. Either way, I wouldn’t know, because hedefinitelywasn’t in my bed.”
Nobody was listening. Becky was already in the Walnut Room, setting up for class, chuckling to herself. Jessica was grinning at her phone as she texted away furiously. While it felt good on some level to have people so clearly invested in my personal life, I didn’t need this.
There was nothing happening between Peter and me.
And the more they dug into this, the more likely it was they’d discover something about me—or Peter—that they’d be safer not knowing.
After my morning classes, Iwent back home, preparing myself for a conversation I needed to have with somebody I had not spoken to in ten years.
Assuming Reg hadn’t changed his number since I’d last seen him. And assuming he would reply to me. I’d changedmynumber when I’d come to California a decade ago. It was possible he would take one look at my text and ignore it as spam.
But Ihadto know what the hell he’d been thinking, sending Peter my way.
Before texting him, I walked into the kitchen and poured myself a finger of whiskey for some liquid courage. Then I remembered it was only ten in the morning. I set the glass back down on the counter and closed my eyes.
I was being silly. Reggie had been my oldest friend.
I could do this.
Zelda:Hey Reg. It’s Grizzy
Zelda:Call me when you get this?
My phone rang a few minutes later.
“Oh my god,” Reg said, before I could even say hello. “Is it really you?”
His voice sounded exactly as it did in my memories, his riotous sense of humor imbuing every word. It pulled a smile from me before I’d even realized it had happened.
“It’s really me,” I confirmed.
Someone was talking in the background on Reginald’s end. Possibly the girlfriend Peter had mentioned. “Except you go by Zelda now. Right?”
“I do.”
“That’ll take some getting used to.”
I switched my phone from one ear to the other. “I didn’t call to talk about my new nickname.”
My words came out more harshly than I’d intended, making me wince. Despite the stunt he’d pulled with Peter, this was stillReggieI was talking to. The person I’d been able to count on above everyone else back in the bad old days.
But former BFF or not, he had some explaining to do.
“Can I infer from the fact that you’ve texted me for the first time since you disappeared that you’ve met Peter?” he asked.
“You can,” I said. “Seriously, though—what were youthinking?”
“That one lost soul might be able to help another?”
I snorted. “Become philosophical in your old age, have you?”
“Look,” he said. “I panicked, all right? I admit that shipping him to California without warning you was some chutzpah on my part, but—”
“Chutzpah?” I huffed a humorless laugh. “Reg, when I sent you thathi, how are you, I just gave The Collective the slip, I’m still aliveletter a few months ago, that didn’t mean you could send me an entire amnesiac vampire.”
On second thought, I needed that whiskey after all. I grabbed the glass and tossed it back, reveling in the burn as the alcohol slid down my throat. It had to be five o’clock somewhere, right? I was more than four hundred years old. I’d earned the right to do whatever I wanted from time to time.
