Page 56 of Vampires of Eden
This statement, comparing me to Oliver… it rubs me the wrong way. Like I’ve eaten something sour. I want to spit it out. “I amnotOliver.”
“I know that! I’m just saying?—”
“Jesus Christ man, are you coming inside or not?” I think I’m failing the cosmic test because my patience is wearing thin.
Alexander snickers, breathily. His bright eyes are soft. “Yes, I’ll come inside. Thank you for the invitation.”
We end up watching two episodes ofDeep Space Nine, but I had forgotten that the pilot was an hour and a half long. I make a bowl of fresh popcorn. He asks me if there’s butter on it, which, of course there is. He doesn’t say anything else and changes the subject, but I notice he doesn’t touch the popcorn as we watch.
I’ve observed this before at Roland and Kat’s house when we eat together—him not eating certain things, or pushing his food around to give the impression that he has eaten at least some of it when he hasn’t. Or the opposite, him pouncing on particular foods, not restraining himself at all.
In-between the first and second episode, I go to the pantry, then bring back a bag of crisps. Kettle cooked with sea salt. Discreetly, he examines the bag, thanks me, then eats them while we watch the second episode.
“That pilot was action-packed,” Alexander says much later as we walk toward the front door. “Sisko’s back story is rough. That scene with him being forced to leave his wife on the ship… God. That’s going to stay with me for a while.” He slips into his sneakers and bends, tying them.
“It’s tragic,” I say, not ogling at all. “But it gives a powerful, emotional foundation for his character—and for his connection with his son.”
Alexander pulls the front door open and steps outside. “Agreed. All the characters are interesting so far… Wow.” He glances up and I follow his gaze. The sky is a swishy mix of royal purple and blue. The moon is perfectly full and bright as it hangs amidst a cosmic backdrop of twinkling stars. On the horizon, the mountains are jagged shadows and the vineyard is still and calm. Mother Nature has offered us a truly spectacular evening. Not something to be taken for granted.
“We can sit for a minute, if you’re not in a rush?” Look at me getting bold in my ability to extend invitations. Alexander keeps building my confidence, because without speaking, he slowly sits down on the top step, his eyes fixed on the sky as if he’s in a trance.
I slip on my outdoor shoes, grab my hoodie that’s hanging on a nearby hook and move to sit beside him. We stare out into the stardust evening. A subtle wind blows, rustling the vineyard’s branches and I shiver.
“Are you cold?” he asks quietly, as if he doesn’t want to disturb the serenity of this lovely night.
Wrapping my arms around my knees, I shrug. “I’m alright.” We watch each other and for a moment, it looks as if his mouth is fixed to say something more, but then he thinks better of it and looks back out across the landscape.
You should tell him why.
Leoni’s voice echoes in my mind. I still don’t think that I should. What happened to me… it’s too heavy and dark to deal with. I’m not going there.
However, there is something I’ve noticed that I want to ask him about.
“May I ask a question, about Oliver? It might be probing on my part.”
Alexander’s brows furrow, but not in anger. More like curiosity. “Sure. Go ahead.”
Pausing, I consider how to phrase my question. “Why did you fall in love with Oliver? What about him was alluring to you?”
Now, it’s Alexander’s turn to ruminate. He exhales, droppinghis shoulders as he stares out over the vineyard. It doesn’t take him long to respond.
“Well, we grew up together. Of course I thought he was cute. His pretty eyes and sweet, flowery nature. And he was shy. A little introverted and withdrawn. It made me curious about him, always. Like a puzzle I wanted to solve. I chose him because we were the same age and had similar family backgrounds. On paper, we made sense. Once I made the decision, my parents, his parents and other vampires around us told me that he was my partner, so I just… I don’t know. I imagined my whole life and future with him. He was all I knew, really. Everything I knew.”
This answer is exactly what I suspected. When I don’t say anything, Alexander leans into my field of vision.
“Does that answer your question?” he asks.
“It does. However, may I pose another question?”
“Sure.”
I swallow, mentally retracing the exact steps and questions I once asked myself. I want to present them to him now, because I think they’ll help give him perspective. A framework for understanding and healing.
“Do you think that… maybe, you were more in love with the fantasy of you and Oliver in your head, and not the real, actual Oliver?”
Alexander blinks and draws back. A clear sign that this question isn’t processing well. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you loved the narrative that you were given by your parents and peers. You yearned for the ideals you yourself created—a future, summer night’s walk through a romantic grove of trees, for example—rather than Oliver as an actual vampire with his own agency.”
