“You know, Leslie, don’t knock it until you try it.” I turn my head in time to see Lana pulling down her sunglasses and winking at Leslie, whose mouth drops open in complete horror.
“Are you saying you’ve been with a vamp?” I ask, swinging my legs around the side of the chaise lounge so I can face Lana.
“Repeatedly.”
Leslie shrieks. “You lost your flower to a dead person? Wait, are they considered people?”
I roll my eyes and glance over my shoulder to see where the vampire server is; not that he can’t hear us, but from the looks of it, he looks like he’s ignoring us. Either that or he’s plotting our demise later. “Leslie, why do you insist on calling your virginity a flower? And yes, they’re people.” I think. Honestly, I don’t know much about the vampires, other than they’ve walked the earth for a couple hundred years, but it’s been the last hundred or so where our government has controlled them, put sanctions on the way they live their lives. They have rules to follow, just like humans.
“My mama--”
“La la la, time to grow up, Leslie. Seriously, I popped my cherry freshman year in high school. Surely, you remember me telling the both of you.” Lana shakes her head, probably out of disbelief or aggravation. Lord knows Leslie tries my patience on a daily basis with her holier-than-thou act. Honestly, I’m surprised she’s showing as much skin as she is right now because it’s against her religion. “Anyway, I met Marc at the gym. He’s a personal trainer, and well let me just say, he trained me well in the locker room.”
“Lana…”
“…You’re going to go to hell,” Leslie blurts out before I can finish what I was going to say. Although, I’m somewhat thankful for her outburst because the truth is, I haven’t the slightest idea of what I should say to my friend. To each their own, of course, but I’m not sure I could do it. Be with someone who for the most part is dead and yet insanely hot. That’s the one thing vamps have going for them; they’re gorgeous, but it’s all a ruse. They’re meant to be undeniably attractive, so we forget our wits and succumb to their ways. For as long as I can remember, I’ve always worn a cross. It doesn’t necessarily protect me from being compelled, but those who carry the mark are supposed to respect my wishes not to be.
“She’s not going to hell, Leslie. Lana is free to make her own choices.”
“But to bed a dead man, it’s against nature.”
“I don’t understand what the big deal is, Leslie. They walk, talk, and groom themselves like we do. They work, pay taxes and are contributing members of society. So what if their heart doesn’t beat; everything else works.” Lana shrugs as if having a non-functioning vital organ is the same as last season’s Louis Vuitton bag, which I can easily say I’d never get caught dead with.
“Did he bite you?” I ask, titling my head to the right and then the left to see if I can spot any teeth marks. There are ample women around town who have bite marks on their necks. They show them visibly, almost as if they wear them with pride.
Lana fans herself, although the motion of her hand will do nothing to curb the boiling heat. Her smile is wide as she angles her head to the side. Her finger trails down her neck and her eyes close, almost as if she remembers the moment his fangs punctured her skin. She points to a spot, but it’s faint, and the only way I can see is if I stand and lean over Leslie, who is refusing to look. “I don’t see anything.”
“I have cover-up on.”
> “Why?” I sit back down, but can’t seem to tear my eyes away from her neck. “If you’re so proud of being with him, surely you want people to know.”
“Because she knows it’s wrong.” Leslie picks up the magazine and violently turns the pages. Her breathing is picking up; her chest is heaving more rapidly than normal. I’ve known her long enough to know she’s about to explode into some sort of diva-style hissy fit, unloading her wrath of righteousness on all of us. I’m not sure if I agree or disagree with her, as I’ve never been in the position to make a choice when it comes to socializing with the undead. For all my life, my father has warned me against having an association with them, and honestly, Lana is the first of my friends to admit she’s been with a vampire. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested in knowing more, but knowledge and experience are two different things.
“You only think it’s wrong because you’ve never tried it, Leslie.” Lana swings her legs to the side of the chaise and reaches toward Leslie’s leg. She pulls away, angling herself toward me. I fear Lana’s choice of bedmates will inevitably ruin our friendship. “My parents,” Lana pauses and looks up to the sky. I do the same, wondering what’s caught her attention. There’s nothing I see, not a plane, a cloud or even a bird flying by, and it’s not like she’s looking toward heaven since both her parents are still alive. “They asked that I keep my love life private.”
“Because it’s wrong,” Leslie spits.
“They know?” I ask. “I mean, of course, they know if they asked you, but you know...” Lana trails off. She doesn’t need to finish her sentence because I do know. The people our families associate with, they’re against vampires having any sort of freedom. I’m not sure where I stand, mostly because I’ve never had any interaction with them.
“Your parents are probably disgusted by what you’ve done; how you allowed your body to be violated by a dead thing.”
“Leslie--”
“Can we talk about something else?” I interrupt Lana before she goes off on Leslie, wanting to steer my two best friends to something different. Having my friends fight over this is the last thing I want. Lana should’ve known better than to say anything. We both know where Leslie stands on this issue.
Leslie sets her magazine down and spins in my direction, her knees crashing into mine. Her hands are clasped, but the look on her face tells me she’s about to flip her bitch switch off and go back to being the sweet and loving friend she is. “Like the party, you’re having?” Her eyes light up, and her frown turns into a glowing smile. Party. It’s Leslie’s favorite word. Mine too, to be honest.
“Or Louis Vuitton’s new line?” I hedge. In a matter of hours the store will be filled with everything I want, but don’t need.
“Or the fact that Britney has ended her residency here and we’re left with JLo?” Lana asks. I glance at her, and she shrugs. “What? I like Britney.”
“But not Lopez?” I ask. I’m rather shocked, considering Lopez has been married to her vampire for years now and was one of the more famous people to announce a union with one.
She shakes her head. “She’s good, but…eh.”
Leslie rolls her eyes, and I can already tell there’s going to be a strain on our friendship. It’ll take days, maybe weeks, but Leslie will start asking me to do things with only her, leaving me to choose between my friends. I hate the idea. “Your party,” she says, reaching for my hands. “It has to be off the hook, amazing, with only the best of the best in attendance.”
“Aren’t all my parties like this?” Hosting parties is what I’m good at. It’s how I earn a living, so to speak. I do this for my father; entertain investors when they come to town so they’ll want to do business here. Not that there’s much space for expansion on the Strip, but my dad is looking to increase the area by extending the Strip, which is something the locals aren’t happy with. My father and I don’t always see eye to eye, but he’s willing to keep my bank account full as long as I’m doing my part and making sure the right businesses are coming to town. This isn’t how I saw using my business degree, but I have to admit the perks are nice. My penthouse is paid for, I have a car service and a black American Express that yes, my daddy covers, but it’s for his cause, not mine. I’m at a stage in my life where I’m not sure I know what I want to do so until then, I’ll happily live off my daddy’s money, especially if it means my current step-mommy doesn’t get it all.