Blood Type Read online

  Blood Type

  by

  Melissa Luznicky Garrett

  Blood Type copyright 2012 Melissa Luznicky Garrett

  All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced, except for brief

  quotations, without permission from the author.

  Blood Type is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and

  events are a product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarities to actual people, places, or events are coincidental.

  Published 2012

  Cover design by Damon Xeda

  www.Damonza.com

  for those who believe

  in the unbelievable . . .

  Acknowledgements

  Once upon a time I uttered two words to my dad that forever changed my life: I’m bored. It was summer in the Midwest, unbearably hot, and I’d already used my allotted television time for the day. “All right,” he said. “Come with me.”

  I followed him to his extensive library where he plucked a paperback book from the shelf—Stephen King’s Salem’s Lot. “Read this,” he said, “or I can give you something else to do.” Since I knew that “something else” was code for weeding the garden, I took the book without complaint and set off for a quiet corner of the house.

  Now I don’t know if my dad just randomly chose any book from the shelf or if he handed over Salem’s Lot with a purpose in mind. In any event, the story scared the bejeezus out of me and ultimately sowed my love of three things: vampires, reading, and storytelling. So Dad, wherever you are, thank you for such an incredible gift.

  Thanks also to my early readers for your invaluable feedback: Nova Ordner, Natalie Allan, Amanda Wilson, Jennifer Goehl, Tiffany O’Connell, Alicia Madill, Leah Shvartsman, and MaryBeth Mulhall. Even if I didn’t like everything you had to say, I still listened. You all ROCK!

  Thank you Damon Xeda for yet another gorgeous cover.

  Thank you to my wonderful husband Ian for jokingly suggesting that I name a vampire after you. When I first started writing this book, there was no Ian McAvoy. I can’t imagine what this story would be without him, just like I can’t imagine what my life would be without you.

  Thanks to Hannah, Jake, and Bea for being patient—at least most of the time. I know competing against an unfinished manuscript, which your mother considers another child and, worse, the baby of the family, must be incredibly difficult.

  Thanks to everyone who didn’t laugh or roll your eyes when I announced I was going to write a YA book about vampires when there are already so many to choose from. In my opinion, however, one can never have too many vampire books.

  Thanks to those who did not compare Blood Type to Twilight and Blake Ehlert to Bella Swan. I love Bella, but seriously. Thank you for letting Blake be her own person.

  Thanks to my friends and family who are even remotely curious about what the heck it is I do all day and support me in ways both big and small. There’s no feeling in the world quite like validation.

  Thanks to my loyal fans that keep coming back for more and pestering motivating me to write. I do it for you.

  Finally, thank you to my newest readers. I do it for you, too.

  ~ Melissa

  October 26

  “Your parents are going to kill you,” Olivia said. “You do know that, right?”

  I finished paying the woman behind the counter then tugged on my coat. “I heard you the first time. I don’t know why you feel the need to keep repeating yourself.”

  I stopped in front of a full-length mirror on my way out and brought a finger to the edge of the gauze bandage at my neck, my apathetic expression masking the pain of the recent procedure. My parents probably would kill me, but I didn’t think that mattered much under the present circumstances.

  The overhead lights flickered with the oncoming storm, and Olivia tensed at my side. “We’d better get out of here, Blake,” she said. “It’s getting windy. They say we might even get snow tonight.”

  We left the parlor, stepping out into the cold October evening. Streetlamps cast intermittent pools of light on the busy sidewalk even as storm clouds, heavy with the threat of moisture, shrouded the city in near-complete darkness. I wrapped my coat tighter around my body and lowered my head against the wind as we hurried together to the bus stop.

  “I will say your new tat is pretty awesome,” Olivia said, grinning as she looked at me from the corner of her eye. “I would never have pegged you for a tat girl.”

  The wind nipped the fair skin of her cheeks until they glowed like twin cherries, and it sent her hair swirling around her head in long white strands. She shivered and pulled the knit cap down over her ears and then linked her arm through mine. We huddled together for warmth as we walked, and I clenched my teeth to keep the shivering to a minimum. I could never seem to get warm enough these days.

  “If you say tat one more time, I’ll push you in front of oncoming traffic.” I gave her a playful shove and she clung to me even tighter to keep her balance.

  “Vampire-bite marks,” she commented with a snort, ignoring my empty threat. “The drops of blood were a nice touch. Very convincing.”

  I tucked my chin into the collar of my wool pea-coat, blowing out my breath to create a pocket of warmth that floated up my cheeks and temporarily thawed my nose. I lowered my eyes to the ground, fixing them on the layer of dead leaves that had collected in the gutter and now lay lifeless.

  “You’ll have to buy a sexy costume to go with. Like, bright red. And skin-tight. Maybe you’ll start a new trend at school, and vampire-bite tats will become all the rage.”

  She yelped as I gave her another shove, hard enough this time that one foot slipped off the curb. “Whatever.”

  “I’m not sure who I’m going as,” Olivia persisted. “I was thinking about the Bride of Frankenstein, but Gabe sort of screwed that one up when he decided to act like a major dickwad. I’m so glad we’re not together anymore. Anyway, you’ll have to forgo the sweats and oversized flannels for one night. It’s really not a good look on you.” She patted my arm with a cashmere-gloved hand.

  “I’ll wear what I want.” I took a deep breath, instantly regretting my snappish attitude. I said in a more measured tone, “I don’t even care about the stupid dance. And I hate Halloween.”

  We fell silent as we came to the bus enclosure and stepped inside. The Plexiglass partition at least protected us from the wind, but it did nothing to stave off the lower-than-average temps. Olivia broke free and toyed with the end of her scarf while I stared off into the distance, dreaming about a hot bath and my fleece robe.

  A yellow car whizzed by and Olivia squealed and pointed. “Banana boat!”

  I cracked a smile. “I saw it. I just didn’t call it.”

  “Liar,” she said, elbowing me in the side. “Hey, did you ever get those test results back?”

  I nodded. “Hemolytic anemia.” Exactly what John said the doctors would conclude.

  “Hemolytic anemia? Never heard. What is it?”

  I looked at the ground as I answered. “It means there aren’t enough red blood cells in my blood. My body can’t produce them fast enough.”

  “Why?”

  I shrugged, but still couldn’t meet her eyes. “There are lots of different reasons. My doctor thinks my anemia was caused by a toxin of some sort, but he’s not sure what.”

  “Oh. So what now?”

  I took a deep breath and finally met her eyes. “I have prescription iron pills that I’m supposed to take.”

  “Well, that’s good,” Olivia said, sounding somewhat heartened. “That doesn’t sound so bad. And maybe once all of this gets straightened out, your doctor and Coach wi
ll let you back on the squad.”

  “Maybe.” I didn’t tell her that the prognosis wasn’t good and I had a better chance of winning the lottery than ever cheering again. My heart raced all the time, as if I’d just run fifty laps around the gym. I was always out of breath and hardly had the energy to get dressed each morning.

  “I’m just glad they figured out what it was,” Olivia said. “Your mom called my mom last week, and do you know what she said?”

  This was news to me, and I wondered why Olivia hadn’t mentioned it before. “What?”

  “She said she thought you were becoming anorexic. That, or depressed.”

  I snorted and rolled my eyes. “I am so not anorexic. Last night I dreamed I ate five cheeseburgers from McDonald’s.”

  Olivia laughed. “Seriously?”

  I echoed her laughter, which ended in a coughing fit. “Yeah. I could actually taste them, all hot and salty,” I said, once I’d regained my breath. “And I was crying because I was so hungry, but I couldn’t eat them fast enough. I never got full. But when I woke up, the idea of a cheeseburger was so disgusting I actually puked over the side of my bed.”

  Olivia stopped laughing suddenly and made a face. “Ew. That’s the most disgusting thing I’ve ever heard, Blake. Seriously.”

  “There are worse things,” I muttered.

  “What?”

  “Nevermind.”

  We stood quietly after that and watched the cars and buses drive by, their headlights bumping up and down and lighting the store front of the Chinese restaurant across the street. My mouth watered at the thought of vegetable lo mein, even as my stomach churned. I felt constantly hungry, but everything placed in front of me ended up pushed aside or dumped into the garbage can. I’d lost fifteen pounds in the past two months, and it was only the threat of a feeding tube that had me choking down small bites of food in my parents’ presence.

  “Are you depressed?” Olivia finally asked, lowering her voice to a whisper.

  I shrugged. “Mom worries about me not being on the squad anymore, but I don’t really think about it much. I couldn’t care less.”

  “Ouch. That’s harsh, considering we all care about you.”

  I shook my head, in no mood to argue. “I’m just . . . tired, Libby. I don’t have the energy for that anymore. It’s just . . . not important.”

  I thought back to the day Coach called me into her office. It was the afternoon of our first football game, and we’d had a pep rally during last period to get everyone stoked. Only the pep rally ended in disaster when I missed my mark and wasn’t there to help catch Ashley on the basket toss. All you could hear was the collective gasp from the crowd as Ashley crashed to the ground, and then Ashley’s moaning that her leg was broken. She had to be taken away by ambulance.

  “You’re one of the best,” Coach had said to me later. “You never miss your mark. But something’s happened to you, Blake. You’ve changed. You’re not the same girl you were at camp.”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” I said, slumping in the chair in front of her desk.

  Coach gave me a long look before taking a deep breath. “Did something happen over the summer? Is there anything you want to talk about? You know you can tell me anything. You just have to trust me.”

  I knew that look. It was the same look I’d gotten from my mom so many times it was seared in my brain like a rancher’s brand on a cow’s hide. But when I shook my head, Coach placed her folded hands on her desk and studied me with a pair of apologetic eyes. “I’m going to have to temporarily suspend you from the team.”

  I sat up straighter in my chair. “What? But this is senior year! That’s—”

  “You’re not in trouble, Blake. I’ve already talked this over with your parents. They’re worried about you, and so am I. I see you walking the halls in a daze, like you’re half-dead. If you don’t have your head in the game, you become a liability to the other girls’ safety. It’s as simple as that. Do you understand?”

  “But I’m not—”

  Coach held up a hand. “Take a few months off. Get some rest, gather your strength, and put yourself back together again.”

  “Well, you being on the squad is important to me,” said Olivia testily, pulling me out of my thoughts. “And it was important to our team, especially the younger girls, to suddenly lose one of their co-captains. You’re like an idol to them. They look up to you. Or they did.”

  I snorted. “And that’s why it took all of two days to find a replacement. Yeah, I’m sure everyone misses me.”

  “We had to find a replacement,” Olivia said. “But everyone wants you back.” She came closer and rubbed my shoulder. Her voice was soft again when she spoke. “All you have to do is get better.”

  I didn’t say anything, and the bus miraculously appeared. We boarded in silence and found a vacant seat near the back.

  “Here,” Olivia said. She pushed a small plastic bottle into my hand. I turned it over and read the label.

  “Eye drops?”

  “Yes, well. You look like you’ve been smoking pot.” A stricken look crossed her face and she leaned in to whisper in my ear. “You’re not using drugs, are you?”

  “Jesus, Olivia. Give me a little credit.” I shoved the eye drops back at her and turned toward the window. “And no,” I finally said. “My parents made me pee in a cup months ago. They also wanted to find out if I was pregnant. It was totally humiliating, especially since I kept insisting I don’t do drugs and am still a virgin.”

  “I’m sorry,” Olivia said.

  I shrugged, not really interested in apologies. “Whatever. It is what it is.”

  “I’m just not sure what’s going on with you these days,” she said. “I get the whole being sick thing, but it’s not like you have cancer and you’re dying. Your entire attitude has changed. You’re not the same person you were before—”

  She stopped then, but I knew what she was going to say. You’re not the same person you were before John.

  “I still don’t understand what all this get-up is about,” she said instead. She wiggled her fingers to indicate my clothes and made a face that clearly showed her disapproval. And then she muttered under her breath, “I can’t help feeling that your sudden break-up with John is the reason for how you’ve been lately.”

  “This is me,” I said, pulling my coat tighter around my shoulders and avoiding the mention of John’s name. “It’s who I am.”

  “Who you are is an Honor Roll student and former Homecoming Queen, two years in a row. Not to mention one of the most popular girls in school. With the exception of me, of course.”

  I didn’t laugh at her attempted joke. “Correction: That’s who I was. I’m none of those things now.”

  “Dressing and acting like you don’t give a damn doesn’t make it so. You’re still Blake Ehlert, even if you are a thinner and paler version of yourself. Take my advice and go buy a dress. Put some make-up on and fix your hair. Go out and meet someone new.”

  The bus slowed to a stop in order to allow more passengers on, and I stood up.

  “Where are you going?” Olivia said, the alarm evident in her voice. “This isn’t our stop.”

  I looked down at her. “I’ll gladly walk home if that means I don’t have to listen to you lecture me.”

  “But we’re still a mile from home. It’s going to start pouring any minute!”

  “At least I’ve got on appropriate walking shoes. Goodbye, Olivia.”

  I exited the bus and began making my way along the dark road as quickly as my legs and lungs would allow. I knew Olivia would follow and didn’t bother turning around to make sure. Within a matter of seconds, I heard her angry breathing a few steps behind.

  “Would you at least slow down? If I have to trek all the way back home in stiletto boots, I’d rather not kill myself doing it. Or break a heel. These were very expensive, you know.”

  I stopped suddenly, and Olivia ran into me. I whirled around, forcing her to take a
few awkward steps back. “Then don’t go all parental on me,” I said. “I need one person in my life who will just be my friend.”

  Olivia held up her hands. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. Sheesh.”

  “And those boots are ridiculous,” I said, still angry.

  We walked in silence after that, me absorbed in my own thoughts and Olivia smart enough to keep quiet. The wind bit the tips of my ears and nose, and I wished I hadn’t taken for granted the relative warmth of the bus or how cold the night had gotten. It had to be below freezing now, especially up on the hill.

  Olivia finally spoke up. “I know. I’ll ask my parents if you can stay with us for a while. Maybe you just need to get out of your house and clear your head.”

  I looked at her, raising a brow. “I’m sure your mother would love that. She has enough to worry about with Henry and Eleanor. She doesn’t need me complicating things.” Olivia’s face fell and I touched her shoulder. “But it was a nice idea, Libby. Really.”

  I’d been doing a lot of thinking—more like obsessing—since John told me I had a choice to make. Thinking was all I ever did these days, it seemed. Maybe skipping town, just up and leaving everyone I cared about, was what I needed to do. I could crawl away somewhere and die in peace; spare them having to watch my body slowly disintegrate without any real answers as to why.

  And yet the idea of saving my friends and family a bit of grief did nothing to make the thought of leaving Olivia any easier. We’d been best friends for as long as I could remember. We’d shared everything. Or rather, everything but the biggest secret of my life. I reached for Olivia’s hand in the dark and squeezed, and she squeezed back.

  At last we made it home, our faces and small parts stiff and frozen with the rain and sleet that had started to fall. We waved goodbye to each other and trudged to our respective homes.

  I found my mother in the living room laughing hysterically at the television, a glass of something dark red in her hand. My heart fluttered behind my ribs at the sight of it. I put a hand to my chest and took a deep breath, fighting back the rising anxiety. “How many of those have you had, Mom?” I said, only somewhat jokingly.