I'm Fine in the Fire, Don't Try and Fix Me

The universe loves to screw me over. It was that simple. Why else would things like this happen? Why else would a person who tries to avoid drama at all costs suddenly get swallowed by it? You understand. You have to. This stuff was just so strange for me. My facade of just being the boy in the back of the corner with no issues to be seen was slowly crashing down, and I didn't know which face to put on next.

I sighed dropping my bag onto the floor by the door, watching the tiny doms run up the stairs to Blake's room. They were just too cute. They didn't have these issues to deal with. Ugh! This unknowing, looming doom was frustrating me!

"What's wrong, darling?" My mother asked, walking into the room.

I looked over at her. She was just standing there with a cup of blood in hand. There would be no surprise if she just came back from the school. "Did you know Dad was inviting a family over for dinner?" I asked.

"Yes," she nodded. "The Wentzs, lovely family. I think you'll like them. They have a son about your age, a dom. What was his name?" She pondered to herself, tapping her finger on her chin.

"Vladimir." I cut her off.

"Ah, yes," she exclaimed. "Vladimir! He's a nice young man. You'll like him when you meet him."

"That's the thing though, Ma. I already met him." I sighed, flopping down on the couch. She walked over to sit next to me, though her body wasn't casually thrown wherever it laid. She sat like a normal vampire.

"Did you know?" She asked. "How did that go?"

I lifted my head to look over at her. "How do you think it went, Ma? I told him who I was, and he thinks I'm a freak."

She sighed. "I'm sorry, honey," she said with a genuine look on her face. There was always this thought in the back of her head that it was her fault that I didn't ever make friends. It wasn't. These people were just too dense to realize what they were missing. I mean you guys are sticking with me until the end, so why can't they? Besides, you're my friend, so it doesn't matter. Yeah, I didn't even convince myself that time. "Well, then tonight we'll show him just what he is messing, won't we? No one messes with a witch and gets away with it." She said with a smile. That was the mom I knew, the one with the witty, mysterious sarcasm.

"I suppose." I said.

"Good," she replied. "Now don't get all down. Your father will be home in like an hour with the Wentz family, and you are helping me with cooking because you know the last time I cooked on my own." She cleared her throat as I rolled my eyes, indeed remembering the last time she tried to cool for our family and another by herself. Sometimes I wonder if she ever got used to feeding three kids plus her and my dad. It never really seemed like it.

We cooked our hearts out, honestly. My mother was never one for small impressions. By the end of it, we had enough food to feed a small army. Well, if we are still being honest, a medium to large sized one. It smelled fantastic, but every time I tried to sneak a piece my mother figured it out. I wonder how she could do that? Oh, don't get all snippy on me. I was being sarcastic. Just because you know she is a witch doesn't mean I still can't make funny, mysterious comments about it. That reminds me of a time when I didn't just come out and say that I was who I was. Instead I would make the person figure it out themselves, but then I got all attached to them, thinking we were friends. When they left, it seemed to hurt more. But, back to the story. I'll tell you more about that later, maybe.

The time seemed to go quicker in the kitchen than anywhere else. In there, my mom and I were normal fertiles. We cooked like the rest of them. We cleaned like the rest of them. We gossiped like the rest of them. We weren't any different in there. I think that's why she liked me to help her, when in reality she could do it herself. She knew all we had to do was be yourself in there. That was it. Everyone needed some of that. We needed that, too. We were witches, yes, but we were vampires, too. I think there was a certain amount of normalcy that was required with that aspect of our lives.

My father came in saying "Hello, darling" to my mother. They kissed quickly while I pretended to gag. What teenage didn't when seeing their parents kissing? "Hello to you too, Liam." He laughed at me.

"Hey, Dad." I replied from my seat at the kitchen table.

"How were your classes today?" He asked.

"Classy." I said with a smirk.

He rolled his eyes. "As interesting as your classy classes are, we have guests, so come say hello."

I groaned. "The living room is all the way over there." I whined pointing to the door.

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, I'm quite aware of this, now come on."

"Fine." I muttered under my breath before walking with my parents into the living room.

There was a couple in there, standing with Vladimir. The taller man was obviously a dom. His hair was dark and cropped short. He was one of the tanner vampires I had seen, but no bother. There was definition, but he was still quite slim. Tattoos covered his arms and hands. You could tell that he was Vladimir’s father. They seemed to be the spitting image of the other. The fertile was short and deadly pale. Well, not deadly, but you understand. Blonde, his hair I mean. It was longer and it framed his hazel eyes. The same eyes that Vladimir had. There were no tattoos on him, but yeah, these were definitely his parents.

My father introduced everyone. The dom was named Pete. The fertile was Patrick. They had just moved here when Pete was offered a job with the company my father owned. Apparently it was a lot better than his other job because vampires usually don't leave their homes, but things sometimes happen, like this, which makes their old home seem not as pleasant as it once was.

Vladimir seemed to have a strange look on his face when they introduced us. He didn't say anything. I didn't say anything. But, he still gave me a look. It wasn't like the other looks that I got. The ones that say the person resented me with every fiber of their being, but it was more like a remorseful look. One that says he's sorry for something. I didn't know what he had to be sorry for. He was like everyone else. He should be happy about that. He wasn't a freak like me.

The night seemed to go pretty well. My mother hit it off with Patrick. By the end of the night, they were two peas in a pod. They gossiped their hearts out, talked about pointless things, about old memories. They both told stories about when they met their doms. Patrick hated Pete before they were mated. He said something about him being an arrogant asshole, but when they were mated he kind of had to start talking to him. And so, here we are. He obviously enjoys his company now. Then mom told him the lovely little story about how she never spoke to him until the week before they got mated. She thought she was screwed when he told her that he was her mate, but she slowly fell for him. What I thought was amusing was that chunk of history between when they first got mated until they had me was missing. It was always missing. I knew there was something she wasn't telling me. Something that was important, but until I was "ready" she wasn't going to tell me.

During all of this, my father and Pete took Vladimir down to the basement to mess with any human my father still had down there. It had been a while since he had brought any home, so you know that those suckers were in a terrible mess of pain by now. It probably wanted to die, but my father isn't that nice. Well, he is very nice, just not to scum.

At the end of the night, everyone seemed to have a new friend. Blake had Drake. Dad had Pete. Mom had Patrick. No, wait. I didn't make a new friend. Vladimir was another one of those people, so of course, his tiny mind makes him incapable of ever thinking a half witch half vampire creature has something more to offer then accidently blowing open windows with his emotions. Patrick was fine with my mother, and she was he most feared creature on Earth most of the time. Why wasn't he okay with me?

We were about to say our goodbyes. I knew this because Patrick gave Drake a ten minute warning. We were in the home stretch, and Vladimir decided to do something out of his character. He pulled me away from everyone else, over into the kitchen which was now desolate.

"What do you want?" I asked with a little less of a pleasant tone than what I was hoping for. I wasn't trying to sound menacing. I really wasn’t. That's just what came out.

"I," he started. He ran his fingers threw his hair. I don't think he knows what he wants to say. "I wanted to tell you that I don't hate you."

I stared over at him, looking for deceit. "I never thought you hated me." I said shortly, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Then what did you think? Because whatever it was is wrong. I don't hate you. I don't think you're a freak, and I'm not afraid of you." He said. His voice didn't change. His pupils didn't change shape. He seemed to be confident in what he was saying, but I had seen better liars before. Hell, I was one of them.

"What makes you think I'm going to believe you?" I asked. My voice seemed to still be menacing. You believe when I say I didn't mean to make it like that, right?

His nervousness seemed to leave, and this new sense of confidence seemed to swell around him. "You're a witch. You tell me, am I lying?"