Creep

“So, when people in this town want to go out, where do they go?” I asked Tom that morning when he walked in. I was already dressed up, standing near the kitchen in a knee-length summery dress, with my hair braided nicely.

He was shocked once more. I imagined my behavior seemed pretty erratic and unpredictable, because I even felt like I couldn't tell what I would do next.

“We’ve only got a few options. We can’t really go out to eat, but there is a nice place for drinks and dancing.”

That was most certainly a date. I internally cringed, but the idea wasn’t really all that unpleasant. It just made me very nervous. I was incredibly unsure of how to act around him, now that all my pent up anger and frustration had sort of just melted away, because it honestly had to before I went completely crazy.

I nodded. “Okay. I’d like to go there.”

“We’ve got a few hours before the sun comes up,” he replied in agreement. After a long, odd look at me, he went into the office which had been his bedroom.

I moved to stand next to the door and waited. I was going on a first date with my husband, whom I didn’t know at all, as a vampire.

It was a situation I had never imagined myself in, certainly.

When he came out of the office, he looked very nice. It reminded me of that first night; he had on some nice, dark wash jeans and a blue button up that just complimented him nicely.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked, his voice low. Never had I seen less confidence in someone.

I nodded and he opened the door. We lived right next to the square so it was easy to walk there in a short amount of time. I recognized the place he took me to. I walked past it almost every night.

It was very small, but since it was Friday, there were a lot of people inside. It was like a bar, with a small dance floor and a lot of tables. Everything was wooden, like a saloon from an American western movie, only more run down. Then again, on the reservation, everything was run down and second, third, fourth hand.

As we walked in, everyone in our line of sight stopped what they were doing and stared.

I grabbed Tom’s shoulder. “Why is everyone looking?” I asked.

“Everyone knows me. Everyone knows I’m married. They’ve never seen us together before now,” he replied as he protectively wrapped an arm around my waist.

“Do they all hate me?”

He shook his head. “No. I imagine some of them don’t think you made a smart decision.”

I looked at him, and he looked scared, like he’d said the wrong thing because I had not made the decision.

I just nodded. “I know what you mean. Let’s just dance.”

He led me onto the dance floor while a song I had never heard played. It occurred to me that I hadn’t listened to music in two months. I hadn’t done a lot of things in two months, and I certainly hadn’t danced. I had sulked in anger.

We were both hesitant to dance, because we didn’t know how to be normal around each other. So, since t was my idea, I started first with a small, forced smile as I grabbed his hands and began to move slowly and carefully to the beat.

I found that he was a good dancer; it seemed as if he had lessons. He pulled me this way and that, spun me around and dipped me like we were in a ballroom. I found my forced smile becoming a real smile.

After a few songs, I was actually thinking it was nice that I wasn’t out of breath, sweating, or getting sore feet at all, because I couldn’t. And maybe the way Tom was looking at me was nice, and his eyes were sort of pretty in that lighting and when he touched me, maybe I didn’t want to puke.

And soon, as quick as we arrived, a sinking feeling set itself in the pit of my stomach and as everyone, including Tom, watched in shock, I quickly turned and ran home as fast as I could.