Chapter Two: We all have our talents—even if some of them aren’t real.
A tall, blonde woman walked into the library and pulled a few books off the shelves. Gabriela dropped them on the table where Charlotte, Rachel, and I sat. For a minute Gabriela didn’t say anything. Rachel had just opened her mouth when Gabriela began.
“Humans,” she said, “have to believe you’re normal. This means acting like that regular teenagers.” Charlotte groaned when she saw the titles of the books. “Algebra, chemistry, history—the torture for every human child,” Gabriela continued. “And you three are going to learn them in four days.” I picked up the algebra book and flipped through some pages. I had read a few math books growing up, but these were impossible. Charlotte opened the chemistry book while Rachel began reading about world history.
“Do you understand any of this?” Charlotte asked a few hours later. She pushed the algebra book toward me and I looked down at the page.
“It’s a linear function. There’s just the variable and constant. Quadratics have three terms.” I turned back to the chemistry book and read over the periodic table again.
“Here, I’ll trade with you. You have the easy one,” Charlotte said. She took the chemistry book and flipped to the diagrams in the back.
“How do you factor? It doesn’t make sense!” Rachel whined after thirty minutes of reading the same page.
“You’re the one who lived with humans. You tell us,” Charlotte snapped at Rachel.
Rachel just groaned and pushed her glasses to the top of her head. Rachel was so stressed it hadn’t bothered her when Charlotte mentioned how she lived with humans. Rachel was the only one of us who grew up without knowing she was a vampire. This usually bothered her—especially when we used our vampire abilities.
“Merde!” Charlotte shouted and flung her book across the room. Fletcher appeared in the door just seconds after the book would have hit his head.
“Whoa. Maybe I should come back later then,” he said with a chuckle.
“Maybe you should,” Charlotte snapped. “Unless you’re going to help us.” Fletcher spent the next two hours trying to teach us math while Charlotte complained about how we’d never use this stuff in our lives.
“It’s not like we’re going to be engineers or anything,” she kept saying. “How are we supposed to do anything in the human world when we age—what is it—20 times slower than they do?”
“And what if you decide to go to school? Do you want to look like an idiot not knowing the previous stuff?” Fletcher explained.
“Seriously? I can pretend I’m fifteen and take these classes. No one is going to know the difference.” Learning how to factor polynomials was hard enough. Charlotte’s constant complaining just made it more difficult.
“Stop,” I said firmly when she stood up for what seemed like the hundredth time. “Sit down and stop having fits. They said we have to do this so let’s just do it and then we can go swimming.” Charlotte’s mouth dropped but she sat down anyways and looked down at the book. Charlotte was usually somewhat annoying. This time she may have taken it a bit far but I had never snapped like that.
I flipped pages as if the exchange hadn’t just happened. Rachel nervously twirled her finger around a strawberry-blonde ringlet. Fletcher followed my lead and went back to showing us how to graph functions.
* * * * * * * *
Charlotte lay back on the dock while Fletcher and Rachel sped around the lake on Skidoos. Charlotte was lying out on a towel and wearing sunglasses at two o’ clock in the morning. The only light she was getting was moonlight.
“Isn’t this nice?” Charlotte mused.
“I think we should stay up one morning and actually be out here in the sun.” Charlotte nodded and sat up. “I’m going swimming,” I said and slid off the dock. The water was lukewarm and sparkled. I took a deep breath and dove underwater. The water was so clear I could see through it to where Fletcher and Rachel churned the water with their Skidoos. Something grabbed my ankle and I turned to see Charlotte in the water behind me. She dove deeper into the water and did a handstand at the bottom.
“You girls done playing around?” Fletcher asked. His Skidoo pulled up next to us.
“Never!” Charlotte called as she swung on behind Rachel. I grabbed Fletcher’s hand and pulled myself up behind him. We took off at top speed, Fletcher and Rachel chasing each other around the lake. I let go of Fletcher and lay back so my hair skimmed the surface of the water. Fletcher rolled his eyes at me and pulled me back on the Skidoo. Behind us, meanwhile, I heard a whoosh as Charlotte jumped off the Skidoo and spread her wings. She soared upward like a giant bat and crossed the sky. Rachel powered down her Skidoo and stretched up her arms. Charlotte flew by, grabbing Rachel’s hands, and tossed her into the middle of the lake. Charlotte made another pass over the lake and grabbed onto the end of our Skidoo. Fletcher kept accelerating and the Skidoo flipped over, pulling us under it. I clamped my mouth shut and tried not breathe through my nose. The water pressed down on me and the only way out was to go deeper. I swam under the current created by the Skidoo and rose again a few feet away.
"That," Fletcher snapped as I surfaced, "was not funny, Charlotte." Charlotte scoffed.
"You guys were fine," she said.
"Really? And had Anna been down for a minute longer do you know that she wouldn't have drowned? They aren’t fully vampires yet.” I sighed. Fletcher could be almost as dramatic as Charlotte sometimes, but he was right. We don’t become full vampires—with all of the healing powers and wings—until our sixteenth birthday.
When we jumped onto the dock, Fletcher disappeared. I figured he ran back to the house and followed.
“What’s your problem?” I said as I saw Fletcher on the back veranda. “You know that was just Charlotte being Charlotte.”
“Oh,” he said sarcastically, “so you’re the only one allowed to freak out today?” Fletcher opened the glass doors to his room.
“No, it’s just—uh! What’s your problem lately?” Fletcher looked away from me and sat down in front of his perfectly-made bed. Our beds were always flawless before we went to sleep no matter how we left it at night. It made it seem like the hacienda wasn’t lived in. Like we were ghosts instead of vampires.
“What’s this?” I asked, crossing the room. I touched a canvas Fletcher had on an easel in front of the window. The main feature was the lake with a ripple in the corner like a pebble had just dropped in it.
“Just something I’m working on.” Behind the easel were other half-finished canvases.
“I didn’t know you could paint,” I said, picking up a brush. Next the easel, a blank canvas leaned against the window. I knelt down and opened a few containers of paint.
“What are you doing?” I heard Fletcher ask. I was too focused on his painting of the lake to respond. I mixed a few couple colors and brushed them against the canvas. My eyes flipped back and forth from his painting to the blank canvas. After a few seconds, I had the bottom corner replicated. I put down the brush and stood up.
“That was some vampire-thing wasn’t it?” Fletcher didn’t answer but examined what I had done. “Fletcher!” I shouted to get his attention.
“Yeah. You didn’t use any technique, just copied the colors and brushstrokes exactly. I’ve seen vampires play or sing back something they hear—that’s how we mimic languages and accents—but I’ve never seen anyone paint exactly.”
“Whatever,” I mumbled. I didn’t have any talent at it. I could be a great forger but never make a masterpiece. Where was the value in that?
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