Page 42 of Sprite Wedding
I returned inside, clothes in hand, and washed up in the kitchen sink. My limbs were covered with dirt, especially my hands, so I might as well scrub it off before I dressed.
“That bugger,” I muttered. Marty must have been involved in every instance of strange occurrences lately.
It made sense. He’d been grumbling before it happened that night on the cruise. He’d said I’d almost killed him in the garden. That might have been around the time when I danced at Ripped. While I scrubbed the dirt and grime off my hands, Diego slunk into the kitchen.
“Good morning, sunshine,” I greeted him.
When he saw me buck naked at the sink, he covered his eyes. “What level of fresh hell did I walk into?”
“Look who’s back from the dead,” I said in one of my usual morning greetings.
Diego groaned. “Too early.” He waved in front of his eyes. “And to wake up to seeing your junk?” He wiped across the front of his face as if wiping the memory from his skull.
“You’re looking at my ass,” I replied. “But if you want me to swing my ding-a-ling in your direction, I’m happy to oblige.”
“I’ll cut it off with a rusty chainsaw,” he grumbled.
He stumbled toward the fridge and opened it, appearing more zombie than vampire. He pulled out a pouch of blood, which still grossed me out even though I’d gotten used to seeing it.
I was antsy to tell him about the sprite but knew better. If I tried to talk to him before he adjusted to being awake and drinking his blood breakfast, I could wind up with an axe in my skull.
While he chugged some blood, I dried my hands and ran up to my room for a pair of shorts and T-shirt. After I returned to the kitchen, I figured I’d eat, too, while I waited. His nasty form of sustenance wasn’t enough to turn me off from eating.
When I glimpsed at the shelves devoid of Sebastian’s containers, I frowned. Oh well, I couldn’t be a spoiled roommate forever. I wasn’t helpless. I pulled out some bread and cold cuts. Since it was just me food shopping now, that’s pretty much all I had to make a sandwich.
After pulling together a roast beef sandwich with some pickles and chips, I brought it into the living room where Diego slowly acclimated to a new day as the undead.
“Do I need to splash some ice water on you, man?” I lowered my chin. “Or cold blood?”
“I’m awake, I’m awake.” He rubbed his eyes. “Some days are harder than others.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “That usually means something—or someone—kept you up.” I took a bite of my sandwich.
He slanted a dead-eyed gaze at me and groaned once more.
“With the way you’re always grumbling and groaning, you could probably land a role as an extra in a zombie movie.”
He snarked before flashing a wide, forced smile. “How’s your day going, buttercup?” He lifted his hand beneath his chin and tilted it.
I chuckled. “Fine, thanks for asking.” I ignored his false interest. “Actually, I have quite an interesting story to tell. I was working in the garden, and you won’t believe what happened.”
He leaned forward, widening his eyes and said, “Ooh, do tell.” He squirmed on the sofa, faking more excitement. “I can’t wait to hear all about it, Lukey Luke!”
“I bet you would, you grouchy grouch,” I teased. “I was pulling some weeds, and something flew out. It was a—” As soon as I tried to say sprite, my mouth dropped open. The word came out sounding more likebleh,and my tongue lolled out.
“Oh, ableh,” Diego imitated, sticking out his tongue. “We’re overrun with those around here.” He nodded with a knowing, sarcastic expression.
“No.” I cleared my throat. That was strange. My tongue felt heavy in my mouth. I swallowed before trying again. “Ableggghhh.”The same tongue roll followed my odd, extended utterance.
“Ableggghhh,” Diego repeated, this time accentuating the sound. “Pretty immature, Lucas. Even for you.” He raised two fingers. “That’s number two for the stupid genie jar. One more and you’re done for the day.”
Diego joked that I was allowed to say or do up to three stupid things in one day before I had to go back into a jar like a genie.
“I’m not doing it!” I protested. Then why was it happening?
Oh, I knew exactly why. I stormed toward the back door, fists waving. I’d teach that pesky sprite a lesson. I was all for a good prank, but this was out of hand.
“Where are you going?” Diego asked.
