Chapter Text
Rough and tumble weren’t words people would choose to describe Eliza Lancaster; stuffy and annoying were closer fits. Studious and bossy—however her classmates chose to describe her, Eliza didn’t care—I didn’t care. I had one goal in mind, graduate, and move on to brighter and better things.
But what’s high school when a vampire is lurking in the shadows, waiting for you to take one misstep into the world of darkness? Nobody could have prepared me for the consequences I would face after sneaking into that theatre alongside my childhood best friend.
But I’m definitely getting ahead of myself.... Perhaps I should start from the beginning in the elementary schoolyard.
October 1997
My story started by watching my classmates run around the open field, chasing a soccer ball between themselves and a group of older boys. Most of the girls didn’t play—I wouldn’t be caught dead running around and playing some stupid game with stupid rules. I much preferred sitting on the sidelines, shoving my nose into a good book. Unlike me, there were a few girls who cared to play; some out of boredom, others because they thrived on the thrill of competition.
Eyes scanning over the beginning pages of Sabriel, a scream rang out across the field, followed by a cacophony of concerned shouts and whispers. I glanced up, dragging my thoughts away from the fantastical haven. Claire’s kneecap was indeed bleeding... all over her crisp white dress shirt and black skirt.
My eyes fell to the crimson droplets in the grass, nearly bulging from their sockets. Black dots clouded my vision, head swimming as I stumbled closer to the scene, grabbing the shoulder closest to me—I think it was a boy’s. I tossed him a passing glance... Darren Shan.
“What happened?” I asked quietly, leaning against him. Although we were at the back of the crowd there was a large enough gap between the cluster of students. We had front row seats to the accident.
Claire sat in the grass, clutching her knee as a fresh set of blood broke the surface, washing her pale white skin in a layer of blood. Before anyone could say much of anything else, a gang of girls hopped forward, one offering Claire her shoulder, and the others crowding around her like a protective pack of wolves around a stray sheep. Wolves that didn’t harbour malicious intent. The sight was a little laughable at best, but I felt a slight pang of jealousy grip my stomach.
From beside me, Darren shrugged the shoulder I was gripping. “Someone rammed her,” he said, “I didn’t see who.”
My eyes shot up, searching through the horde of faces for one particular person. The only one who didn’t look concerned or flustered was Steve Leonard. His eyes were hardened into a slight glare, almost like he was annoyed the game had been interrupted. Among the faces, I heard an upperclassman say to the rest, “The bell’s gonna ring. We should head inside.”
“Should we go?” Darren tugged his shoulder away from my hand. It was a small gesture, one I don’t think he meant as harshly as my mind took it. “What’s that look for?” His brown eyes glistened in the mid-afternoon sunlight, the rays catching on his irises making them shine a bright and soft golden brown.
I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. “Nothing.”
Darren and I had been close when we were little kids—we were neighbours, and our families attended church together. We celebrated some holidays together, too. My parents hosted Easter dinner and the Shans invited us over for Lunar New Year almost every year. The Lancaster-Shan gatherings didn’t stop after Darren met Steve Leonard in third grade... but our friendship kind of unravelled afterwards.
Noisy and laughter-filled walks to school slowly evaporated into trudging along the sidewalks by myself. Sometimes my younger sister would tail behind me, until we met her friends on the next street. Then they would run off.
It wasn’t like Darren and I ignored each other entirely. We shared the occasional side-eye, leaving our homeroom teacher, Mr. Dalton, on the receiving end of our linked thoughts. Occasionally we’d be caught and sent to stand in the hallway, snickering between ourselves... until we realized who was beside us, and how much everything had changed. We’d stand with our hands clasped behind our backs and avert our eyes. Staring down opposite sides of the empty hallway was better than addressing the rift between us.
Mentioning the rift was taboo. At least, for the two of us. Everyone else loved to play innocent!
Every now and then my mom would say, “What happened between you and Darren” when I had burst through the door looking particularly sullen, carrying yet another stack of library books in my arms. “You two were so close. It’s a shame.”
Were. That’s what she never focused on.
Some days I would act mature, and give her an answer I thought sounded particularly profound. But most days I’d just stomp up to mine and my sister’s shared-bedroom and slam the door, leaving my younger sister, Ginger, to wonder what was wrong. Again.
As my thoughts of how Darren and I used to be drowned out the classroom noise, I noticed Claire had returned shortly after the soccer debacle. Her cheeks were streaked with black trails of tears where her mascara had run, but she was smiling, giggling with her friends who had escorted her.
I turned my eyes to the front for a while. My focus didn’t last long, though, as a white ball of paper flew over my head. Sitting on either side of my desk were Steve and Darren. Now, even I couldn’t ignore their jabs and snickers over my head, not even with my nose shoved into the pages of whatever book I had on the top of my pile.
With the third or fourth toss, my hand shot up into the air, and my palm smacking the note flat against the surface of my desk. I smoothed out the creases, watching out of the corner of my eye as Steve seethed from my side. Just as I thought he was about to lunge for the note, my eyes scanned over it. Before I could fully register the words, Steve slapped his hand over the paper, glaring down at me.
From the front of the classroom, Mr. Dalton cleared his throat. “Ehem! Eliza, Steve, is there a problem?” His moustache twitched in irritation, the hand he’d used to tap the blackboard was now on his glasses. He adjusted them, fixing his pointed look.
“No, sir,” answered Steve, shooting me another sly glare. “Just killed a fly for Miss Lancaster.”
My lips flattened, forming a thin line. “Thanks, Steve.”
Steve’s fingers worked quickly, slipping the paper from the wooden desktop, hiding it stealthily in his palm. “Anytime.”
~
The school bell rung through my ears as shoes clattered against tile, and students hurried to break free from the place we so scathingly dubbed as a “prison.” As the usual straggler, I took my time, packing away my books and offering to help Mr. Dalton clean the chalkboard, even though he was already halfway done. He paused, and dropped the brush, thankful for the small gesture.
Brush in hand, I swept the board with little difficulty, only struggling to reach the very top. “Here allow me,” said an unwelcome voice from beside me. Though my shoulders bristled, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, I allowed Steve to take the brush. His fingers brushed mine as he slipped it from my hand. He had to stand on his toes to sweep the very top, too. “There.”
Mr. Dalton blinked behind the stack of papers he was busying himself with. “Oh, Steve, that was kind of you.” I’m sure he didn’t mean to sound so surprised—Steve wasn’t a bad seed... well, not all the time. My eye twitched as I pushed myself away from the board. Mr. Dalton cleared his throat, annoyingly reminding me of earlier. “Eliza, aren’t you going to thank him?”
My posture stiffened. “Do I have to,” I muttered under my breath, shaking my head to relieve the building tension in the air. “Right—thank you, Steve. I really appreciate it.” I forced the fakest smile I could muster onto my face. There was no way I would give him the satisfaction of even thinking I was being sincere.
He stole my best friend. He didn’t deserve a shred of kindness.
Steve offered me an equally venomous grin. He showed his teeth, he repeated the same words from earlier, “Anytime.” Without missing a beat, he grabbed my backpack by the handle as I hastily shoved the remainder of my belongings into the open sack, zipping it shut. “Do you mind walking with me for a bit?”
My teeth clenched as he swept his opposite hand around my shoulders, ushering me out of the classroom. The offer was a mere illusion. “Sure. I’ll walk with you.”
Standing in the hallway clutching his backpack straps was Darren. There was another, smaller bag sitting by his feet. I assumed the black and grey-patterned bag was Steve’s. Darren gripped it in his free hand and handed it out to Steve who shoved my own backpack into my waiting arms. “Eliza,” Darren’s grunt was meant as a greeting, but I brushed it off without acknowledgement.
“What’s this about, Steve?” The grip I held on my backpack’s strap tightened. “If you expect me to thank you again, you’re sorely mistaken.”
Steve didn’t move, glaring at me. He was only slightly taller, and his sandy-blond hair was cut shaggy, spiky. It matched his thorny personality. At the time, I didn’t really know why Steve didn’t like me, but he definitely made it known. He’d barely given me a passing glance all year, and now here he stood, giving me the coldest glare I had ever seen gracing his ice-blue eyes.
As much as I hate it, I have to admit, his eyes were really pretty.
“You saw our note, didn’t you?” I swallowed and took a step back. Somewhere under Steve’s intimidating glower, I must have turned, because my back bumped against the outside wall of our classroom. “So, why aren’t you running to Mr. Dalton?” His right arm was blocking my peripheral, but I think I saw Darren move to yank him away. Steve braced himself, placing his other hand on the other side of my head.
My eyes lowered. “You think I’m that stupid? Tell Mr. Dalton you two went sneaking off in the middle of the night to that abandoned theatre? It’s none of my business,” I grumbled back. I tipped my chin back, faking an air of superiority. Pushing myself away from the wall, I waved my fingers for Steve to back up. “I don’t care what you do in your spare time. Just stop throwing your secrets over my head, that’s all I ask.”
From behind Steve, Darren hissed, “See, I told you she doesn’t know anything, so let her go, Steve.” His eyes were pleading, hopeful.
I blinked. Okay. Now I kind of wanted to know what they were really doing there. Truly eating my own words. But they didn’t need to know that.
I watched as Steve’s upper lip curled into an unfriendly snarl, an expression I wanted nothing more than to laugh at, but knew better. “Yeah,” I agreed with Darren’s words, “I didn’t see anything. So... can I go home now?” I blink, feigning disinterest.
Even if they weren’t lying, it’s not like Steve was going to spill his guts to me of all people. I was the last person he’d trust with a secret. Especially one as deep as whatever it was they seemed to be hiding.
Stuffing is hands into the pockets of his school-issued-dress pants, Steve gave in. A rare act of mercy from a leopard. “Fine.”
“Thank you.” I dipped my chin, dropping my bag to one shoulder. As the heels of my loafers tapped against the hallway tiles, I called over my shoulder. “See you boys tomorrow, and don’t forget to do your homework!” I shot them my dirtiest smile.
As I turned away, I caught Steve muttering something about me being bossy, and Darren telling him to come off it.
~
The next few days swept by without a word from either. Although, I did notice Darren and Steve acting increasingly weird as the days dragged on. About three days after Steve’s “threat” (if you could even call it that) I caught Darren walking slowly out of the classroom.
He’d stayed behind later than usual—typically him, Tommy Jones, Alan Morris and Steve were joined at the hip, hooting and hollering about going to play soccer, or video games after classes. And it was a Friday... And Darren was by himself. No even Steve was in sight.
I thought back to the note, my mind pulling the words seemingly out of thin air as they flashed across my inner thoughts.
I can’t believe you chickened out – Steve
That thing scared me – Darren
I couldn’t remember much more than that, but I understood the gist. Darren and Steve had went to the abandoned theatre house outside of town and were scared away by something. What that something was... I couldn’t fathom, but I wasn’t about to ask.
All I knew was Darren would do almost anything for Steve’s approval—emphasis on almost. Sure, I hadn’t talked to Darren very much in the past few years, outside of classes, but there was no way he’d be stupid enough to go back to the theatre.
My shred of hope were shattered as I hurried from the classroom, hot on his heels, we were headed in the opposite direction of our houses. When Darren spun around, hearing footsteps behind him, my mouth dipped into a frown.
“Eliza!” I thought he was going to collapse on the floor in shock. “It’s just you.” His eyebrows scrunched, lines creasing his forehead. “The next time you sneak up on somebody, wear a bell!” He turned on his heels, obviously in a hurry.
Ignoring his comment, I grabbed the fabric of his bag, tugging him backwards. “You’re not going to that theatre, are you?” The worry must have been clear on my tongue, because he stopped, only-half facing me. “Just because Steve dared you doesn’t mean you have to do it.” I never understood that about boys.
Tests of courage were bullshit. They only got you into trouble, or injured.
He turned, eyes sharp, words biting, “He didn’t dare me to do anything!” My eyes set into a firm glare, one paralleling Steve’s look that could kill. He tossed his arm out, breaking my grip. “Why do you care anyway? I thought you said it wasn’t your business?” He jabbed a finger against my chest.
Taking a small step towards him, I stood my ground. “Because.”
Whatever pressure Darren was under must have been rising, because he tossed his hands into the air, nearly losing what little sense of composure he still possessed. “Dammit Eliza! Why do you always have to get into my business!” It wasn’t a question but a stinging demand.
“Because we are still friends!” I snapped back.
For a moment, Darren didn’t move, he barely dared to breathe. And I did the same. My insides tied themselves together, ice frosting over them, refusing to melt. With the shake of his head, I thought I heard a brief chuckle rumble Darren’s throat. Perhaps it was my imaginations. But when I looked up, he was smiling and offering his hand out to me.
He muttered, “Well, how can I argue with that.” Without another word, he leaned in and wrapped his arms around my shoulders, pulling me in.“I won’t tell Steve if you promise to keep this a secret,” he said into my ear.
When we broke away from each other, I carefully considered his words. I hadn’t kept a secret or made a promise with Darren Shan for a long time. Not since his little sister, Annie, broke Mrs. Shan’s favourite vase and Darren tried to take the blame. Annie confessed the next day with tears streaming down her face.
“I don’t know,” I admitted, biting my bottom lip.
“Oh, come on,” he coaxed, the same, charismatic smile playing across his lips. “You know you want to. It’ll just be between us. And, I’ll protect you.”
My lips parted in a barking laugh. I latched my pinkie to his. “Really? Because I remember you were the one who always needed rescuing.”
My memory isn’t as good as it used to be. And, to this day, I can’t remember if my snide remark was a lie or not. Back then, I wouldn’t have put it past myself to truly believe such a thing.
Darren sighed a little, but returned the gesture. Our pinkies interlocked. “Believe what you want. It’s a deal, okay?”
“Cross my heart and hope to die,” we promised in unison. As those words spilled from our mouths, I felt a tug around my pinkie finger, and, for a brief second, I thought I saw a flash of red around Darren’s.
The game was on. There was no turning back. We were just two puppets hanging by a pair of strings. Our fate was sealed. If I could go back, I don’t know if I would have kept my mouth shut. But, I feel like, even if I had—no matter what choice I made—we would still would have wound up entangled in red.