“How does Jack’s wardrobe make you feel?” I asked, smiling sadly at the thought of him. Jack wore Dickies shorts almost every day of the year, regardless of the weather. He was ridiculously awesome that way.
“It works for him, so more power to him.” Bobby scratched at the bandage on his arm that covered up Daisy’s bite, and he wrinkled his nose at it. When he looked down, his black hair fell more into his eyes, and he brushed it back. “She bit down right into my nautical star! I bet I have a scar that totally wrecks it.”
Bobby had a sleeve of tattoos that ran all down his arms, but most of them were black and shades of gray. The only one with color was a green nautical star on the back of his arm, and that was the one that Daisy got.
“She bit the back of your arm?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Nasty little brat,” he said. “I don’t even know what she was thinking. All the good veins are on the underside of my arm. She doesn’t know anything about being a vampire.”
“She certainly doesn’t,” I agreed wearily. “You need to stop picking at it, though, or it will scar.”
Bobby continued scratching at it, so I kicked him gently in the knee, and he stopped. He leaned back, resting his head on the wall, and sighed.
“Between the spiders and Daisy, this trip is gonna be the death of me.”
“I really wish I hadn’t let Milo talk me into it.” I stared up at the ceiling. “What is he doing anyway?”
“Sleeping. He says it’s too hot to sleep during the day,” Bobby said. “He’s probably right. But luckily for me, I never sleep anyway.” Bobby’s insomnia had made him a perfect fit for our lifestyle. “I can’t believe I’m wasting my last week and a half of winter break here. When Milo asked me to go to Australia, I was thinking Sydney hot spots and kangaroos and coral reef diving.”
“I know, right? Mae said they were living off the grid, but I thought we’d at least visit the grid.”
“And just think, you could be wasting your time here and going to school when we get back,” Bobby grinned at me, but I shook my head. “Oh, come on. You should at least graduate.”
“I didn’t let Milo talk me into it, and I’m not going to let you,” I said firmly.
Milo dropped out of school at the beginning of his junior year because of the whole turning into a vampire thing, but he’d gotten under control enough and could handle going back. He’d enrolled in some swanky private school in Minneapolis to finish out the eleventh grade, and classes started on January twenty-first. The same day, Bobby started the new semester at art school.
“So you’re just gonna be a high school drop out? What are you gonna do with your life?” Bobby asked.
“What am I gonna do if I don’t drop out?” I asked. “I mean, it’s not like I can do eight years of med school still looking like I’m eighteen.”
“You can just pretend you’re Doogie Howser or something,” he suggested. “Or you can do something you don’t need as much school for. Like a dog groomer.”
“A dog groomer? Really? You think I look like a dog groomer?”
“No. I just haven’t the faintest idea about what you aspire to be.” Bobby cocked his head at me. “Do you even aspire to be anything? Or is this the zenith of your existence that I’m looking at?”
“I don’t know. I have forever to figure it out,” I hedged his question. Lately, the exact same thing had been bothering me.
In high school, I hadn’t really been worrying about grades or school because I didn’t care. Milo had always buckled down, insisting that an education and a career were important.
Even though Milo was only sixteen and a vampire, he still hadn’t changed his mind. He wanted to finish out his high school career at a nice school, go onto college, and get a job. He still planned on having a normal life and doing normal things.
When I first became a vampire, I thought I had it made. But now that I had nothing but time on my hands, I was starting to think that I had misjudged this whole eternity thing.
“Did I just Debbie Downer the whole moment?” Bobby looked apologetically at me. “You’re being all quiet and sad now.”
“Nah, I’m okay. I was just thinking,” I brushed it off and smiled at him.
“You’re not supposed to think. We’re on vacation!” Bobby said with false bravado. He leaned forward suddenly, looking excited. “We should do something really fun. We could chase down kangaroos or something.” His smile widened and his eyes sparkled. “Or we could see if we could get a dingo to take our baby.” He said the last part with an exaggerated Australian accent, trying to channel Meryl Streep.
To bone up for the trip, Bobby had rented A Cry in the Dark and watched it like ten times. I’m sure there were better movies about Australia, but this one was his favorite. It was the true story of a woman who was accused of killing her own baby, but she insisted that a dingo took it.
So, throughout the last month, I had heard Bobby spout “a dingo took my baby” about a thousand times.