vampires were so amusing. This one especially. “S’all right, as long as you follow my rules.” He gave Anthony’s neck a little squeeze. “And there’s only one: Do as I say.”
Chapter 6
How to tell your sister the (almost) truth
With Roderick gone, Daniel thought he might die from sheer loneliness. DeVante was serious and brooding and terrible company, but now that he was moving into the San Francisco house he wouldn’t even have that. Maybe DeVante was grieving Emily, or he was pissed that Roderick was gone or… something. Daniel couldn’t even guess DeVante’s issues or motivations for anything. He’d actually had sex with Katarina, hadn’t he, even after, well… after everything, after she nearly killed Roderick, for keeps. Daniel couldn’t fathom it. That one night proved to him that he would never be either welcome or comfortable trying to get into DeVante’s head.
He thought about being with Reed last night, how gentle Reed had been handling him, easing into him like he would break, and the memories made him warm all over. And restless. His instinct was to stalk Reed, capture him. But he also wanted to take it slow, get Reed intrigued, get Reed to want him.
So tonight Daniel kicked back and stared at the television, kind of hoping Trina would come, so he’d have company. But DeVante said she would come once a week, the day of her yoga class, and Daniel didn’t know what day that would be.
Over the past few weeks he’d tried to get a taste for Project Runway, American Idol... whatever other stupid reality shows were on every station. All Daniel really got out of it is that the whole country was, well, excuse the term… fucked. This is what people stared at night after night? This is what they talked about at work? The whole premise seemed that one contestant after another needed to be publicly humiliated until there was a final winner. Or rather, not-a-loser. It didn’t make Daniel feel good; it made him feel embarrassed. And the number of reality shows out there led him to believe the majority of people living the American Dream loved it. It made them feel good to see another human humiliated. It made Daniel queasy.
There were a couple things he liked on satellite television that were kind of reality TV, like American Chopper. The creative drive of the people on the show kept him glued. It was a father/sons team of bike builders from New York, and they designed and built phenomenal custom motorcycles. Daniel watched them build a “fire bike” commemorating the NYFD lives lost when the Twin Towers collapsed on 9/11. Among other accents, the bike had an actual piece of debris from Ground Zero bolted onto the tank. So freaking cool.
However entertaining Daniel found these particular television shows, he soon balked at even turning on the damn TV.
In fact, he turned it off now. What a waste of life, death, whatever, he thought. Just an absolute waste of time. He needed to do something. What to do, what to do, at ten o’clock on a Monday night. He had no idea. If he were still a mortal boy living in Duluth, what would he do if he were bored?
Call someone. Go out with the gang, drop a little acid, and laugh until his sides ached or his mind floated away. Connect, even if the guys were straight, even if he had to hide who he really was. It was mostly better than being alone.
He wanted to go looking for Reed… but he was biding his time on that one.
Who could he call back home? Johnny J, Marcus? He didn’t know what he would say or even why he would want to call them. They were never really all that close.
But his older sister... geez, he thunked himself in the head for being dense—his sister lived and worked in San Francisco. It was a local call. He almost felt like he shouldn’t call her now because it hadn’t occurred to him to call her before. After all, he’d been living right here for a couple of months already. He sighed. He had no idea where he’d written
Chapter 6
How to tell your sister the (almost) truth
With Roderick gone, Daniel thought he might die from sheer loneliness. DeVante was serious and brooding and terrible company, but now that he was moving into the San Francisco house he wouldn’t even have that. Maybe DeVante was grieving Emily, or he was pissed that Roderick was gone or… something. Daniel couldn’t even guess DeVante’s issues or motivations for anything. He’d actually had sex with Katarina, hadn’t he, even after, well… after everything, after she nearly killed Roderick, for keeps. Daniel couldn’t fathom it. That one night proved to him that he would never be either welcome or comfortable trying to get into DeVante’s head.
He thought about being with Reed last night, how gentle Reed had been handling him, easing into him like he would break, and the memories made him warm all over. And restless. His instinct was to stalk Reed, capture him. But he also wanted to take it slow, get Reed intrigued, get Reed to want him.
So tonight Daniel kicked back and stared at the television, kind of hoping Trina would come, so he’d have company. But DeVante said she would come once a week, the day of her yoga class, and Daniel didn’t know what day that would be.
Over the past few weeks he’d tried to get a taste for Project Runway, American Idol... whatever other stupid reality shows were on every station. All Daniel really got out of it is that the whole country was, well, excuse the term… fucked. This is what people stared at night after night? This is what they talked about at work? The whole premise seemed that one contestant after another needed to be publicly humiliated until there was a final winner. Or rather, not-a-loser. It didn’t make Daniel feel good; it made him feel embarrassed. And the number of reality shows out there led him to believe the majority of people living the American Dream loved it. It made them feel good to see another human humiliated. It made Daniel queasy.
There were a couple things he liked on satellite television that were kind of reality TV, like American Chopper. The creative drive of the people on the show kept him glued. It was a father/sons team of bike builders from New York, and they designed and built phenomenal custom motorcycles. Daniel watched them build a “fire bike” commemorating the NYFD lives lost when the Twin Towers collapsed on 9/11. Among other accents, the bike had an actual piece of debris from Ground Zero bolted onto the tank. So freaking cool.
However entertaining Daniel found these particular television shows, he soon balked at even turning on the damn TV.
In fact, he turned it off now. What a waste of life, death, whatever, he thought. Just an absolute waste of time. He needed to do something. What to do, what to do, at ten o’clock on a Monday night. He had no idea. If he were still a mortal boy living in Duluth, what would he do if he were bored?
Call someone. Go out with the gang, drop a little acid, and laugh until his sides ached or his mind floated away. Connect, even if the guys were straight, even if he had to hide who he really was. It was mostly better than being alone.
He wanted to go looking for Reed… but he was biding his time on that one.
Who could he call back home? Johnny J, Marcus? He didn’t know what he would say or even why he would want to call them. They were never really all that close.
But his older sister... geez, he thunked himself in the head for being dense—his sister lived and worked in San Francisco. It was a local call. He almost felt like he shouldn’t call her now because it hadn’t occurred to him to call her before. After all, he’d been living right here for a couple of months already. He sighed. He had no idea where he’d written
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