Debates

IT WAS MORNING WHEN I WOKE UP. There was an ache in my face, reminding me of last night's terrifying events. A sour feeling settled in my stomach. I cursed my brain for reminding me of the near assault and prop myself up. Light flooded into my room. My curtains were open, but thankfully not the window. I sluggishly roll out of bed to check the lock on it; locked. Satisfied, I do my daily morning stretch, wincing when sharp pinches sear the nerves in my hip and arm.

I must've fallen harder than I thought.

I stand there by my window for a moment, look around my room, and then realize many crucial things: Anais was gone, the sun was high in the sky, and there were no vehicles in the driveway. Not Anais' car, or Bella's dingy aged truck. Frantically, I spied my alarm clock, hoping I was imagining things. Eleven forty-five. My heart did wild spins. She didn't wake me up. It didn't wake me up, my alarm didn't wake me up.

Panic continued to wash over me.

"I'm so stupid," I grumbled to myself, running my hands through my hair.

Somewhere from my mess of a bed, there's a ringing. It's loud and annoying. I hurried to find it. My phone dropped from the comforter, and I answered it.

"Hello?" My voice was suddenly hoarse, so I cleared my throat.

"You really answered!" Dad's voice teasingly came from the speaker.

"Dad?"

"How're you feeling? Anais said you were feeling sick, so I called in an absence for you."

I wasn't expected to be at school. That's a big relief. A weight lifted off my shoulders.

"Th-thanks, Dad," I plop on my bed.

"I was just checking in on you while I had some time. How's it going? Do you feel better?"

My lips curved upward. "Yes, Dad, I'm feeling much better. Thank you for letting me stay home."

"I'm supposed to get off early today, do you want a sprite from the store?"

I thought about it for a second. "As much as I'd like that, save your money, Dad, thanks for asking though."

"Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah. It's just a headache; nothing medicine can't handle."

Dad sighs away from the phone on the line. He's stressed about something. Before I can ask what's wrong, I hear another voice, a different voice, in the background of his office. He speaks with the person and sighs again.

"I'll see you at home, Faye, okay?" He spoke after a moment.

"Yeah." I nodded but then felt silly about it. "Hey, be careful."

He chuckled. "Always am."

And then the line cut off.

I was alone again. Being alone was fine too. I didn't mind it. I was like my dad in that way. My bed beckoned me, and it was tempting to curl into my blanket and sleep again, but it was already eleven and I knew I should text Ana to lengthen her hours and see if I had any homework today. After I did that, my stomach grumbled, suddenly in pain for substance.

The stairs softly creaked as I descended to the main floor. I beeline for the fridge, in hopes to find the leftovers from the Italian restaurant. The Styrofoam container sat on the top shelf, waiting for me to finish it off. And I would do it, with all the pleasures of the world. I prepare a plate and fork, dump the chilled ravioli onto the porcelain, and popped it into the microwave for two minutes.

The silence, aside from the humming of the microwave, buzzed my eardrums. I glance around the kitchen, quickly bored waiting for my food to heat up.

Last night's terrible events came flooding back into my mind and almost instantly the idea of food was lost. My face tingled with memory, slightly aching when I remember that backhand I was so graciously given. The skin was tender to touch, even under my careful graze, it hurt. I wonder if it left a bruise. I may not be as clumsy as Bella, but I bruised fairly quickly. We were lucky that Zain and Edward showed up when they did. I shook my head, scattering the inconsolable torturous images that nearly flooded my mind. A shiver shuddered down my spine. Yeah. That was something I don't ever want to experience again. Ever.

I was so in my thoughts; I almost didn't hear a sharp knocking on the door.

My food was still heating in the microwave, so I might as well answer the door. I padded across the kitchen floor stiffly. Had it gotten colder?

I unlock the door and open it, and much to my surprise, it was Zain. He stood as rain drizzled down, dampening his curls. His car, the pretty Impala, was parked where Dad usually parked his cruiser.

I looked about outside as if someone were to jump out of an imaginary bush and yell, 'Fooled you!' It was only him, and a paper bag with grease stains. I looked at him. "Aren't supposed to be in school?"

He smiled. "My escape will be one for the history books."

I rolled my eyes and then opened the door wider, gesturing for him to come inside.

"Anais mentioned you weren't feeling well during lunch," he held up the bag. "I didn't know if you had eaten today or not, so I went ahead and bought you a burger from the diner in town -- with curly fries, of course."

My mouth watered. "You're a godsend, Zain. Truly."

From the kitchen, the microwave beeped. I flushed. "You arrived a tad bit late," I smiled sheepishly. "I heated the ravioli up."

"It's alright," he didn't seem bothered. Thankfully.

"So... you ditched school to bring me food? I hope you got some for Ana."

"Certainly. At school, I bought her food."

I lead him into the kitchen and gesture to the unmatching chairs at the square table. He set the bag on the surface and sat pulled Dad's chair out while I got my plate from the microwave. And then he pulled the chair closest to him out for me.

"Free food isn't something we can turn down."

"Faye, I--" he began only for his words to falter. "I wanted to talk more with you about what I am."

"You said you're a vampire," I rebutted.

"Yes."

"Then I know what you are."

"Does it...bother you?"

"Are you going to go Dracula on me and suck my blood?"

"No, of course not!"

I smiled at him again. "Then, I'm not bothered. I'm more curious than fearful."

"Your sister seemed the same way," Zain's inky brows furrowed together. "She had many, many comical ideas of how we are the way we are."

A laugh burst from my chest. I could only imagine the responses she had to the guys, her questions must've been amusing to answer.

"Your friend had an interesting theory, possibly the most amusing theory I'd heard so far."

Oh, gosh. I was almost afraid to ask. "What did she say?"

"She had mentioned, with Bella backing her, that you had been told stories of us way back when during your trip to La Push," his golden eyes met my brown ones. "That if she hadn't heard them, she would've thought we were fairies."

I snorted, laughing. "I mean, fairies, by the book, or in some mythologies are inhumanly attractive and such. She must've based you on that. Don't take it to heart, she's a creative person."

"I promise you, I am far from offended," Zain laughed, grinning. "She is an intriguing person, that is for sure."

"Was she able to escape with you, or did the wardens catch her?" I popped a ravioli into my mouth.

"Unfortunately, a warden did catch her. I just happen to have the charm to slip out."

"Poor Ana, what did she do to deserve such a sentence?"

It was quiet for a whole minute, or maybe more. I wasn't sure, but the silence seemed to sink in on me. I ate more of my food, but I suddenly remembered something.

"Oh, did you want something to drink? Or eat?"

Zain shook his head, curls tussling. "No, thank you. I don't eat."

"Oh." Right. Vampires can only drink blood. Okay, asking seemed sillier now. "You don't have a schedule to eat, do you? Because I'm not offering myself."

He snickered. "I do not drink human blood, Faye. It's, well, we don't drink human blood. Only animal blood."

"Why only animals? Is there something wrong with human blood?" I put my fork aside. The talk of blood drinking soured my appetite.

He thinned his lips. "It's difficult to put into the right words. I've just begun drinking animal blood, but to my understanding, Carlisle thinks it's better to feed on animals than animals."

"Thinks?" I parroted.

"How can I put it?" He clasped his hands together and propped his elbows on the table. "It's like...tofu...but not? For us, it hones the hunger we have. Think of humans deciding to be vegan, living off plants or alternative choices of meals. Animal blood is a substitute for human blood."

My mind spun. It wasn't a lot to take in but trying to comprehend his explanation seemed to confuse me further. "I see... You're vegan vampires."

"Essentially."

"Does it...help?"

"It does enough."

I sat back in my chair. "Can I ask you something?"

"You just did."

I glared at him, and he smirked. "Okay, smart Aleck. But seriously."

"You can ask me anything, though I may not have the answers you want."

"How did Ana seem today? Was she okay?"

"I suppose she was the same as always, but I did notice, at times, she was quiet."

"She was really shaken up last night; she tossed and turned most of the night." It more than just bothered her; she was traumatized. Their faces were normal faces, but the thoughts and intentions behind them were riveting. They were disgusting men preying on young women. I wasn't sure if I wanted to know if they decided to take their chances on some other poor girls. I hoped not.

"Carlisle took care of them."

I tilted my head toward him. "What?"

"When we...searched for you three, Edward heard what those lowlifes were thinking, and... he was so furious; I was too. As disgusted and furious as I was, I talked him out of it. I knew he wanted to, but after we got home, we went straight to Carlisle."

We fell into silence again, this time not as awkward as before, but still weird.

"Thank you," Zain suddenly spoke.

"Why are you thanking me?"

"For just letting me into your life," his face morphs into an expression of something I don't recognize. Remorse or guilt? Or maybe it's both mixed with relief. I wasn't sure. "Before, most people avoided me. I suppose I have you to thank for that. I didn't think I was all that terrifying. I know I can be unmoving sometimes, and it helps to know someone is in my corner."

"What about your family?"

"It's hard sometimes," he confessed, dropping his attention to the table. "We've all experienced things before, but I'm not basing my emotions on everyone else's traumas. I am still dealing with things that happened to me during my time as a human. Rosalie tells me I should get over myself and man up, and Alice tells me I'll be fine, and that something good is always in the future. Edward's a broody guy, and Emmett's always offering a hunting trip. I've had a whole life of suffering."

I pursed my lips. A whole life, huh? I tilted my head. "How old are you, if you don't mind me asking."

He tensed a bit. "I was born in eighteen-sixty."

"Holy fudge!" My eyes nearly bulge from their sockets. "That--that---you're--you've gotta be pushing---"

"A hundred and forty-three years old."

Holy fudge on a stick. My jaw slackened. That was a lot of years. I examine Zain intensely. He didn't have a single wrinkle or age mole on his face. Perfectly preserved at, what, seventeen, eighteen, for a whole century and forty years?

"Oh, uh...you're looking good for your age?" I shot him with finger guns.

He looked at me with the oddest of expressions, odder than before. He showed no sign of emotion and then the silence was split apart by hearty laughter.

"I have so many questions!" I blabbered. "Like, where were you born; when did you become a vampire; how you did become a vampire; who turned you; how were you turned; were you with the others when you turned-"

"Slow down, love," Zain reached over the table and put his cold hand on mine. My heart skipped a beat. "We'll speak of this another time; your father is here."

"What-" I turned to the window, spotting my dad's cruiser roll into the driveway, parking next to Zain's car. "Oh, God! What will he think?! I'm home alone with a boy! A Cullen boy, no less!"

"What is the problem, Faye? We are not doing anything but talking." He was confused by my reaction.

"Maybe we'll get off with a warning," I murmured, hoping he wouldn't see it weirdly. "I guess we're going to play it cool -- uh, quick. What was going on at school? What'd I miss in class today?"

Zain's face twisted and then he relaxed back into his chair. "We didn't have homework, which is unlike Mr. Mason, I know he loves to torture his students with pages and pages of soon-to-be due assignments. I can't say for your other classes, though."

We were quick to fall into the discussion of school-related events when my dad bumbled through the door holding a plastic bag of small commodities. He scanned the threshold and living room and finally, the kitchen, where his eyes landed on Zain.

"Hello," he was wary as he walked to the counter to put the bag on. "Faye, who's your friend?"

"Oh. Zain, my dad - Dad, Zain," I quickly introduced him. I mentally slapped myself. "Don't actually call him dad, Charlie would be fine."

"Honor to finally meet you, Chief Swan," Zain stood from the table, approached my dad, and held his hand out to shake his. "Forgive us for the bad timing. I was just visiting during my lunch hour and making sure she was eating."

Dad grabbed his hand, only to flinch slightly. "Your hand is freezing."

Zain made a sound and pulled his hand back. "I have low circulation, sir."

Dad nodded, unsure what to think. He rubbed his palms together and glanced at me. I froze, suddenly under the spotlight.

"Hey, Dad." I wave awkwardly at him. I panicked on the inside, about a dozen scenarios entered my mind. What would he do, or say to Zain? I'm overreacting, but I can't help but worry. I've never had a boy over. He returned his attention to Zain, assessing him head to toe.

"Shouldn't you be in school?"

"I should be, yes. I got permission to leave school for lunch, but I reckon lunch is over by now."

Dad nodded, not faltering his dad-mode face. "Then you should head that way."

"Yes, sir," Zain glanced back at me. "Rest up, Faye. I'll see you tomorrow?"

I smiled at him. "Ditto."

It's quiet as he leaves, he barely makes any sounds walking across the floor or exiting the house. The soft hum of the engine outside had me wondering how quickly he could walk, run even. He just left the house and was in care before I was able to blink, or more dramatically, breathe. I wait for him to back out of the driveway and leave before I look at my dad.

His face was blank as if he was comprehending the interaction with Zain.

I anxiously waited for him to say something. Anything, at least. I could deal with sarcastic remarks, probably. Whether or not Zain wanted to be something more with me, I wouldn't lie to my dad about it; he deserved to know if his daughter, or at least one of his daughters, had someone in their lives. Little fibs like 'Did you do your homework' or 'Have you seen my shirt' was a lot different than having a potential vampire boyfriend. Just imagining Zain being my boyfriend had my stomach churning but in a good way.

"Dad?" I mustered up the courage to speak up.

He tilted his head my way but didn't look at me.

"Are you okay?"

He leaned against the stove and crossed his arms. His eyes flitted about as he thought. Was Zain's presence too much for him?

"Dad?" I tried again. Okay, he was beginning to worry me.

"Yeah." He finally said something, and my heart fluttered with relief. I almost began to think he short-circuited.

"Are you okay?" I repeated slowly.

"Fine."

"Are you sure, because you've got that--"

He held up a hand, stopping my next words. "Are you being safe?"

"I - what?" I'm taken aback. Safe?

"Are you being safe?" He repeated.

"Safe about what?" I squinted at him oddly.

"Sex," he wiped his mouth. "Are you having safe sex?"

I choked on my saliva, feeling an intense burning rise in my face. "Oh, my god, Dad!"

"What?" He pushed off the stove. "I just want to make sure-"

I bury my face in my hands. "Dad, you really don't need to worry about that, like, at all. Zain and I aren't like that, and besides he got here literally forty minutes before you did. He brought me food, that's all there is to it."

"So... there's no fooling around?"

"No, Dad, there isn't." I tried not to be aggressive, but it came out that way. Who wants to talk about sex with their dad? Not me. I knew about sex, fifth grade made sure about that. I vividly remember how they separated the girls and boys into different classrooms to watch the hour-long documentary about the reproductive organs and what to expect when you would experience your first period. Talking about periods with my dad was one thing, but sex was another. He didn't need to concern himself with my sex life because I don't have one, and I wouldn't be telling him anything anyway.

"Okay," he backed off. "Sorry to pry. I just, feel like I leave you and Bella alone too often."

I smiled at him, awkwardness in the background. "You don't have to worry about us, Dad."

I say that and then last night flashes through my mind. The guilt turns into acidic bile. He deserved to know about our almost assault, right? If I told him, he'd be on the hunt for those men and put them in prison where they belonged. It'd make me feel safer, and Anais too. I know she was pretty freaked out about it; I wonder if she told her dad. Even if Zain and Edward had gone to Carlisle about those men, I couldn't be sure they would've been 'taken care of'.

What exactly did 'taken care of' mean? Was it death to the drunken men preying on young women, or kidnapping and sodomizing them? If they had hurt other women and girls, then the stealing and sodomizing seemed like punishment enough. I hoped Zain's real meaning was the law; that the men were rightfully taken into custody and tried for their near crimes.

Pessimistically, they'd be let out, uncharged due to no witnesses or victims to come forward.

Optimistically, they'd be charged with assault, or they already had a record of said assault and had themselves an automatic sentence.

Hopefully. Praying. A lot of praying.

I looked at my dad. He leaned against the stove again, arms crossed over his chest, crinkling his coat. His stoic expression made me know what he was thinking. I wasn't sure if I wanted to know what was going on in his mind. Probably would be wise to not wonder.

"I know you said you didn't want one, but I stopped by the gas station and got you a Sprite anyway," Dad rummaged through the plastic bag he brought in and gave me the clear soda.

"Oh, thank you."

I should tell him. But Zain told me Carlisle already took care of it.

Torn between decisions, I hang my head. Dad sniffs and takes the rest of whatever else in the bag and puts in on the counter. Sounded like beer cans, but I couldn't be sure. I refused to look at him; not telling him the almost disaster that befell his only daughters seemed too painful.

No.

As painful as it was, he'd understand. At least, I hoped he would.