that didn’t stop Cleo from feeding from Mel. On our way to dinner,
Mel had been stupid enough to admit that Cleo was amazing in bed,
right in front of Benny. Mentioning how Andrew was an interesting
addition to the feeding didn’t help much either. Mel apologized the
second she realized her screw-up. Benny didn’t react, but I knew
the words coming from Mel burned her inside. Benny turned as we
neared the cafeteria and headed off in the direction of her dorm. She
refused to talk to me about Cleo, but even though I didn’t want her
to be alone, I was glad she wasn’t around to hear what people were
saying.
“It sucks she died, but I don’t even know who that chick is,”
some girl muttered to her friend at the next table. They passed the
paper between them.
“This is going to get old,” I said.
“I know something that’ll take our minds off all this,” Amy
announced a little too cheerfully.
“What?” I asked. I knew exactly what she was going to say. My
birthday was on Saturday. We had parties for everyone, and I had
been looking forward to mine, but now it just felt all wrong. I just
pictured Benny sitting across the room, watching Cleo with Andrew
and Camila and me stuck in the middle. Not my idea of a good time.
“We need to pick a theme for Ginger’s birthday party.”
“Let’s push the party till after break.” I stood and grabbed my
tray. “Where are you going?” Amy asked.
“The house. I need a nap.”
“I’ll walk with you.” We left Ebony and Gwen to finish
their food. I listened as Amy suggested themes and plans for my
rescheduled birthday party. She threw in her opinions on how Benny
was doing and what she and Danni had planned for New Year’s
Eve. I listened, mm-hmming and nodding as we walked through the
cold afternoon. There was no need to interrupt the perfectly good
conversation Amy was having with herself.
We split once we reached the house. She booked it up the stairs
to Danni’s room and I headed to the elevator. When I got downstairs
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I almost wished I’d followed Amy upstairs. I could hear Cleo
shouting from the hall.
“Why are you being so stupid about this?” Cleo yelled.
“If by stupid you mean safe, then yes, I’m being stupid about
this because I know you’re asking for trouble,” Camila said as I
slithered through the door. She caught me and kissed me on the
mouth before I got to a seat. “Hi, baby.”
“Hey. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You’re not.” I melted into her when she kissed me again.
I took Cleo’s aggravated sigh as a sign I was interrupting enough
for her tastes and slipped out of Camila’s grasp. I joined Andrew on
the couch where he’d been watching them argue it out. “How long
have they been fighting?” I asked him. He glanced at the clock.
“Ten minutes.”
“If they’re going to be here, I can do it then. Just get it out of
the way,” Cleo said. Great. They were talking about her parents.
“I can’t have them here after nightfall,” Camila said.
“Why? You think I’m going to feed on them?”
“No. I think you want to see them. And I don’t blame you, but I
can’t have you even thinking about going upstairs while they’re here.”
“Next week then. After my funeral. Let me go then.”
“That was the plan!” I’d never seen Camila pissed like this
before. “I told you. After the funeral I will go with you to your
parents’ house. I will show you how to enter your mother’s dream
and you can say good-bye. If Andrew is okay with it, we can practice
on him in the meantime, but I have to be able to trust that you won’t
actually wake your mother up and start a conversation with her, but
the more you keep arguing with me and suggesting that you appear
to them in the middle of the sorority house, the less I trust you.”
“I wasn’t going to stand on the stairs and rattle chains. I just
thought I could be in the room while they’re packing. Drop some
hints that I’m still with them.”
“No.” Camila was done.
“The day after your funeral, Cleo. Do not make me regret this.
You want to argue with me? Fine, I’ll be okay with that for a few
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reBekah WeatherspOOn
more months. If you mess this up, Dalhem will force me to come
down on you. No exceptions. And stop fucking cursing at me.”
“Sorry,” Cleo said. “I’m just—this isn’t cool.”
“I know. Just give it some time.”
“Come on, Andrew.” He followed her faithfully out the door
leaving Camila and me alone. I think Camila was at her breaking
point. We all were.
❖
The next day after chem lab, I’d dragged myself back to the
house to meet Cleo’s parents. I’d been preparing myself for the
absolute worst. I should have known we’d get much better from
Cleo’s family. Before they’d even set foot in Cleo’s room, the
Reverend Cynthia Jones had all of us unloading the fixings for an
enormous Southern BBQ buffet. When Cleo’s dad was stressed, he
cooked, and man, did he cook. Her mother ordered us to eat while
they packed her things, and almost to assure we wouldn’t get caught
under their feet, her brother Maxwell put a DVD on for us in the
living room. The afternoon after Cleo’s passing, he’d set about
compiling a montage to show at her memorial service.
I curled up with Amy and Benny on the couch. The rest of
the girls trickled in and gathered around. We watched footage of
videos and scrolling photos of Cleo’s short life: Cleo singing in
her mother’s church choir, receiving an award from her third grade
teacher for citizenship. We all cracked up at several shots of Cleo
scoring eight different goals throughout her soccer career in high
school. The last clip had been shot just days before. Cleo was in her
kitchen, helping her father make Thanksgiving dinner.
“What’s the word, Mr. Maxwell Jones?” she teased her brother.
“You the word, Miss Cleo Jones.” His laughter boomed from
behind the camera.
“And don’t you forget.” I laughed even harder when she
suddenly deadpanned. “Okay, put the camera down and help Daddy
with the stuffing.” Her brother had almost five years on her and even
he couldn’t resist her bossy charm.
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We watched it three times before her family was done loading
her things. Once Cleo’s things were loaded up, her mother asked us
all to join them out by their van before they said good-bye.
Cynthia Jones took Benny’s hand and pulled her close to her
side. Cleo had mentioned their friendship, but not the details. “Now
I want you girls to pray with me.” She glanced around the circle at
our shocked faces, but didn’t wait for a response. She bowed her
head as I closed my
eyes.
“Father God, our heavenly Lord. We gather before you to
give thanks. We thank you for the life of our Cleopatra and the
gift you gave when you sent her to us. We thank you for the power
of friendship. We thank you for these girls and the sorority that
brought them together. We thank you for the joy they brought to our
daughter’s life, and we thank you for the joy their faces bring to our
hearts today.”
I peeked up as she spoke, wondering who else felt like a
complete asshole. Though everyone’s eyes were closed, there was
a range of rigid postures and wary expressions and not a few tears
already running down some faces. Here her family was, doing
everything they could to hold it together. Bringing us food, sharing
more of Cleo’s life with us, praying for us, and we all know that their
daughter was alive and well somewhere beneath our feet. I wondered
if anyone other than me wanted to tell Cynthia Jones the truth. Tears
stung my eyes. I tried to blink them away, making a strange noise
with my effort. Beside me, Amy held my hand a little tighter.
“We ask you, Father God, to please watch over these girls as
we know you are watching over Cleo. Wrap them in your love,
Father, and help them through this time. We praise you, always in
Jesus’ name. Amen.”
“Amen,” we all replied. I wanted to throw up.
“Now, I’m going to call up here in a few days, and I better get a
full report that you are all studying for your tests,” Mrs. Jones said.
“Yes, ma’am,” we all giggled through our tears. I knew the
others were seeing just what I was. Even though Cleo was alive,
looking at Cleo’s mother was like looking at the Cleo that would
never be.
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reBekah WeatherspOOn
“Cleo will always be our baby, but you girls were her sisters,
and now you’re our daughters. You are welcome in our home any
time,” her father said.
“And you better show up,” Maxwell said. Then her parents and
her brothers hugged and kissed us, and just before they hopped in
their vehicles, Barb gave Cynthia Jones Cleo’s ruby necklace. Once
they were out of sight, in the shuffle to get out of the cold Benny
slipped away again.
I made it to the hall of Camila’s quarters before I leaned
against the wall and sobbed. Cleo’s poor family. And I thought of
my parents, what Dad and Mom would do if they lost me too soon
and what Todd would have to say to the girls if he was in Maxwell’s
shoes. I knew Cleo would be okay eventually, but I wished there had
been another way to save her parents from all this pain.
Camila walked out of her office as I came into the lounge.
“Are you okay?” she asked as her lips brushed my cheek.
“Yeah.” I pulled away, annoyed for some reason that she wasn’t
more worried about the rest of the girls. I walked past her to sit on
the couch and dug my chem book out of my bag. “I have to study.”
❖
My behavior over the next few days was a little immature. I
was angry with Camila and she knew it. I didn’t know how to broach
the subject with her without hurting her feelings, which wasn’t my
intention. I was happy that Cleo was still with us, but things were
weird around the house. Benny had basically vanished from the
sorority. I only saw her on campus, and she only offered up small
talk if we were alone. She avoided everyone else, especially Laura
and Mel. It made me so upset to see how hurt she was. Cleo too, was
still wound tight. She didn’t pick any more fights with Camila, but
she wasn’t happy, and that made me angry.
Camila kept saying things like, “Give it time,” or “Don’t worry.
Cleo and Benny will make up soon.” I wasn’t so sure about that.
Despite my mood, every afternoon I studied at Camila’s place,
and even though we didn’t have sex for those few days, every night
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Better Off red
I ended up back in her bed. I needed some space, but I couldn’t turn
my back on her. That’s where the real immaturity came into play. Not
only was I keeping my feelings to myself, but I kept hanging around
avoiding the subject when I should have dealt with the situation.
It wasn’t like I didn’t love her anymore, and I didn’t want to
end our engagement, but I needed something more from her to make
the anger go away. This petty part of me wanted more proof she
was actually sorry for something, but there was no black and white
solution. Cleo was gone to her family now, Benny was broken, and
Camila seemed confident it would all be okay. So confident she only
talked about it if someone, usually me, brought it up.
The girls had no issue pushing back my birthday party. It was
pretty obvious that throwing a rager for one of Cleo’s closest friends
would be a little messed up in the eyes of the student body. Instead, we
all had breakfast together at the house. That more than made up for any
sort of party. Presents from my parents were waiting at the university
post office. I was too lazy to walk to campus to pick them up.
That afternoon I worked on my final English paper, an
informative essay based on the many uses of sugar, a topic my chem
lab TA gave me after he heard me bitching about not having a topic.
I had almost finished it when Camila forced me to close my laptop.
“I know things have been a little tense between us lately, but I
love you. So much. And I wanted to say happy birthday.” Without
me even noticing, she’d placed three boxes and a plate of cupcakes
on the table. “Go ahead and open them.”
The first two gifts were perfect: some pricey makeup I’d been
coveting and my own leather strap-on that I would definitely use
on Camila when I was thinking sexy thoughts about her again. I
unwrapped the largest box, and when I pulled back the tissue paper,
I gasped in amazement. The carved wood of the antique frame
reminded me of the small piece of elegant woodwork that held my
engagement ring. And even though I had yet to wear the ring, I knew
what this frame held I would treasure just as much.
I looked at Camila then back at the painting.
Kina had used her unique graffiti style to capture a moment
of my Mila and me together. It wasn’t a particular moment I’d
remembered, but a moment we’d shared so many times. On the
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reBekah WeatherspOOn
canvas, I sat in Camila’s lap, my legs wrapped around her waist,
and she held me, her palms gently spread on my back. The two of us
wore nothing but a black sheet covering our lower bodies. You could
only see the slight profile of my cheek and chin, but that’s not what
I loved about it. Camila’s beautiful face was completely visible, her
full red lips pressed against the side of my neck. It captured my
feelings for her in the most amazing way, highlighted the place and
the person in this world I felt most whole with. I felt my anger and
frustration from the last few days slipping
away.
“It’s beautiful,” I whispered, softly kissing her lips. “We should
hang it in the bedroom.”
A knock on the door stopped Camila’s answer. “Come in,” she
called out. I could see Andrew in the hallway, but Cleo poked her
head inside. She was calm, but she looked like she’d just been crying.
“The sun is down. Can I go down to Moreland’s with Andrew?
He misses Luke.”
“Yeah. That’s fine,” Camila said. “But during the holiday
break you need to get him back on a normal human sleep schedule.
Moreland likes to forget.”
“I got it,” Cleo replied. The fight in her was gone. I could see
it in her face and hear it in her voice. When she closed the door
quietly without even looking at me, I slid back on the couch, away
from Camila.
“What’s the matter?”
I paused for a second and stared at the door, literally biting the
tip of my tongue. It was useless though. The words were already
coming. “Is this what you mean by okay?”
“What do you mean? Are you talking about Cleo?”
“Yes. I’m talking about Cleo. Can’t you just give her a break?
She knows there are rules. She knows all the things she can’t do.
You don’t have to keep reminding her.” Camila’s lips parted as she
frowned. I’d shocked us both. Still, I wouldn’t take it back.
“Are you angry because I’m being tough on her or is it
something else?”
“You know what, it’s everything. You don’t seem to care that
she lost her family. All you seem to care about is keeping her in
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Better Off red
line. And you don’t even seem to find it a little odd that she won’t
separate herself from Andrew for a minute. I told you she didn’t
want this and it would have killed us all to lose her, but can’t you see
that for her that may have been the better option?” I didn’t entirely
believe that, but at the moment my temper was in control.
Camila exhaled, but tensed even more. “I have to tell you
something. And I will tell you even though you won’t understand.
Our bond with our feeders—”
I smiled at her, huffing indignantly. This wasn’t about vampires
and magical connections. “Right, your bond is strong and it makes
you feel like—”
“No, Ginger. Listen to me. I know you feel the feeder bond,
but for us demons it’s different. Our love for you girls is beyond