George
"Take the cat." I hand Mr. Tuna to Clarkson.
"What?" he whispers. "I don't like Mr. Tuna," he confesses.
"Meow," the cat says as if he understands what Clarkson said.
"Why?" I carry the caramel Persian cat off my bed. My arms wrap around his waist and cuddle him like a teddy bear. His tiny paws rest on my arms. Clarkson's gaze lands on Mr. Tuna. He quickly looks away and clears his throat.
"Aunt Liz doesn't like pets, or should I say doesn't trust me in taking care of pets. She might take Mr. Tuna away from me and look for someone to take care of him," I pout.
Clarkson closes his eyes and bites his lower lip. The strands of his long wavy red hair fall on his forehead as he quickly looks down to avoid my gaze. It grew long since he became busy taking care of us 'civilians'. He rolls up the sleeves of his beige sweater and takes a deep breath.
"Why don't we just let others take care of it?" he asks.
"What!? Why? Should've given him back to Stacey instead!"
"Please? Just for today," I reassure him.
"Alright." His long legs walk towards us. With a grunt, he reaches for the furry cat.
"We should bring him with us next week," I say and rub the cat's chin.
"What!?" Clarkson exclaims. "We shouldn't!" he whines.
"As of now, he's my cat," I say. My arm reaches for Mr. Tuna's picnic basket.
"No, Stacey asked me to take care of him. Besides, this is from one of the vampires' allies," he reminds me.
"Then why did you take him?" I ask and glare at him.
"Because she's not lying," his eyes scan the cat as if it's a deadly weapon.
"It's a cat, Clarkson." I open the lid for him.
"Still, it's from vampires, Georgina," he fires back and carefully puts the cat in the basket.
"You said Stacey's not lying," I glare at him.
"I know! Butâ"
"Are you jealous of the cat, Mr. Bailey?" I smirk.
"N-no!" his eyes widen.
"You don't even--"
"Georgina!" a cheerful female voice interrupts our little argument.
Aunt Liz.
My eyes widen, realizing who it is. I immediately close the lid of the picnic basket and hand it over to Clarkson. Steps from the stairs approach while the two of us panic.
"Georgina," Aunt Liz opens the door of my bedroom. Her gaze landed first on Clarkson, who was sitting on the edge of the bed with the picnic basket on his thighs.
"Yes?" I answer while putting some makeup on my face. I watch Clarkson tap his feet on the floor from the reflection of my vanity mirror.
"You're early today, Aunt Liz," Clarkson pouts and tilts his head to the side.
"Yeah," Aunt Liz enters my room and looks around. "I thought of helping Georgina in packing her things."
Her gaze lands on my luggage before she speaks, "But I guess she's already done."
"Yep," I say, popping the p sound. I remove the hairpins from my head. The strands of the bangs, which I cut on my own, fall on my forehead.
Did it stop growing?
It's been months since I cut it, but it looks the same. It's that morning after that chaos when I randomly cut my bangs.
Chaos...
That night.
"Keep her safe..." his voice echoes in my head.
The way his arms wrap around and cradle me as he runs to save me from his fellow bloodsuckers.
I miss him.
I miss him so bad.
Since that night, I'm blaming myself for everything.
Why does it have to be me? Why do I have to create so much chaos in everyone's life? Why do Jared and I have to cross paths this way?
"Where are you two going?" Aunt Liz asks.
My thoughts are cut. My aunt's voice brought my mind back to where we were.
I look at her. She isn't looking at me. She is looking at Clarkson, waiting for his response while eyeing the basket on his lap.
"Hmm?" Clarkson raises his eyebrows. He purses his lips, unable to say a word.
"Picnic," I answer.
"Right now?" Aunt Liz glances outside the window. "Picnic? Are you sure?"
"Mmm hmmm," I nod remove my hair tie and let my hair fall on my back.
"So you're saying that those tiny blinking colorful lights hanging outside your window are part of the Christmas?" Clarkson asks while we're walking together.
His hand is carrying Mr. Tuna's basket while the other one is inside the pocket of his white long coat.
"It's Christmas lights," I answer while nodding.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he looks at me as if I betrayed him. "I've been wondering why people don't fix those flickering lights," he pouts.
"You never asked. I thought you knew," I said with a smile. A grin forms across my lips.
"And you dress those trees in fancy decorations until December end?" He asks.
"Uh huh, sometimes until Valentine's Day..."
We silently walk together while looking for a place to eat. The heat from the sun radiates on my face as I look up to the sky. The cold winter winds brush my cheeks. My gaze looks around, memorizing the place for my last week here. I put my hands inside the pocket of my light blue long coat.
"Georgina."
I immediately looked at Clarkson when I heard my name, only to see him holding up his phone in front of my face again. My brows furrow as my expression turns into a glare. While he smiles brightly. A sweet laugh escapes his lips. I sharply cover the camera of his phone with the palm of my left hand.
"Stop filming me!" I yell in annoyance.
"No," he laughs louder and holds his phone above his head while the camera is still on me.
"Why do you keep on filming me?" I ask.
My gaze looks around the familiar place. This is the same place where Andrew brought me. I look at the checkered pattern on the floor. My gaze lands on the same maroon couch in front of me, where Clarkson sits.
"I didn't know that phones could do that before," he answers.
The teenage waitress slows down a bit from serving our food, probably weirded out by what a nineteen-year-old boy just said. I clear my throat as I drink some water. The waitress leaves immediately after she serves our food.
"I just wanted to save this memory in humans' city before we leave," he whispers.
"Especially the ones that I'm with you," he casually says.
Before we leave...
"What do you like the most about humans?" I randomly ask. We're finished eating. I rest my right elbow on Mr. Tuna's picnic basket. Thankfully, the cat didn't make any sound.
He stares at me for a while. I on the other hand look at him with my eyebrows raised.
"I likeâ" The vibration of his phone interrupts his words.
"Hello?" he answers. His brows furrow while his eyes quickly shift from the half-filled glass of water to my face. "Tomorrow? Are you serious?"
"W-What's going on? Who is it?" I ask.
"The plan is next week, Saber." He taps the table with his fingers and bit his lower lip.
"What?! O-Okay. Alright." He pulls out his wallet from his pocket and leaves our payment on the table.
He quickly stands up and holds my wrist. His long arm reaches for the basket.
"We should go," he whispers and lightly pulls me up.
I stand on my feet and walk with him.
"What's the matter?" I ask as confusion drowns my mind.
"We should leave tonight," he answers and swallows hard.
"What!?" I exclaim. "Why? It should be next week!?"
What is happening?
We step outside the diner. I hurriedly walk with him dragging me by my wrist. I stop walking and pull my arms hard from his grip. "What on earth is happening!?"
He stops walking as well and turns to face me.
"We have to leave as soon as possible. They might find out that we're still here," he answers. He looks around, being paranoid that someone might be watching us.
"They?" I frown. "Who?" I ask. I put down Mr. Tuna's basket on the sidewalk. My hands held his cheeks and made him look at me.
"Georgina," Clarkson breathes out.
"Jared escaped, and the vampires are searching for him."
* * *
LET'S GOOOOOO!