Vampires, Dating, and Instagram

We are in the only burger place we could find a table at since everything was packed at other places. The place is rather small, and it has all the eighties vibes. It even has a flashy jukebox and a flipper machine.

"Ok, wait, I have a good one." Lukah gestures for me to wait as he gulps down a piece of his burger. "Ten years younger or ten years older?" He wiggles his brown eyebrows at me.

We're playing a sort of would-you-rather game.

"Ten years younger," I admit as I pop a French fry into my mouth.

"Oh, you like kids." He smirks, dimples bracketing his lips.

"No, I just don't see myself with a man like my dad. It's kind of gross. Let's skip this one, please." I grimace as I busy myself eating my burger.

"Okay, okay." He nods his head. "Your turn."

"Mm...let's see." I look up, searching for ideas in my brain. "Zombie or vampire?"

"Vampire—obviously. I wouldn't stand eating human flesh." He scoffs then his attention shift to his meal again.

But drinking blood would be okay?

"Well, you're eating a burger. That's cooked flesh of the corpse of a cow. You do know that, right?" I frown deeply. He can't see that we're all zombies in a way.

He feigns being nauseous. "I can't believe this! You've just ruined this burger for me." He scoffs, letting the burger drop to the table.

"I'm sorry but that's the truth," I claim, rolling my eyes.

"On my birthday day," he adds, throwing me an offended look.

"Your turn."

"Oh, I have a good one." He drums his fingers on the silver table. "E-book or paperback?" he asks.

"Duh. Paperback," I claim, tossing my long, blonde hair to a side.

"Oh, so, I can't eat meat but you can read a book made of God-knows how many trees?"

Our laughter fills the empty place, and it's been a long time since I have actually enjoyed myself like this.

"That's not the same!" I defend myself after throwing him the dirtiest, crumbled napkin I could find. He cackles while shielding himself with his hands.

"Apple or Android?" I ask him, my laughter still echoing in my ribs.

"Do I even have to answer?" He shows me his iPhone, a smirk plastered on his face.

"Mmm..." He gathers his chin between his fingers. "Boyfriend or girlfriend?"

I choke on a piece of burger I was eating.

"Is that your way of asking me if I like boys or girls?" I manage to ask after clearing my throat.

"We're playing a game. It's just one more question." He puts his hands up in defense.

I sigh heavily. "Neither."

"What do you mean? You have to choose one," he chuckles.

"Well, I like boys, if that's what you want to know, but I'm on a break from dating. I need to get to know myself. And get over some traumatizing events in my life." Why am I saying this out loud?

"Who was the jerk that made you like that?" he barks, annoyed.

Ugh. Where do I even begin? It's not only Jason but me ruining every friendship my brother had by dating his two best friends, the car accident I was at, my mum passing away, and my diagnosed anxiety issues. And the list does go on but I just can't disclose all of this. Although, if he's my brother's friend, he already knows a bunch of this stuff.

"No one," I reply plainly.

"Then, why is it?" His eyes search in mine, making me feel like he can see through me. That mere thought brings redness hues to my cheeks.

Also, I really need to tell the truth of the matter before anything may happen because even if for some crazy reason he ever considers dating me...he needs to know that that's not possible.

"I promised my brother that wouldn't date his friends anymore, and most of the guys I meet are his friends," I admit, gesturing at him. "Plus, relationships give me a lot of anxiety and I already suffer from an anxiety disorder, so why add things to that? Right now, I feel like I can't deal with the uncertainty dating brings to life."

I take a deep breath. "In fact, and as you must've hard from my brother, I was in a car accident with my mum some months ago. She died...and I somehow understood that there're no happy endings in real life." I shrug my shoulders up. "So why should I bother having a relationship if I'm gonna die someday anyway?

"We were brought to a world that ends in tragedy, and everybody is just too busy to notice that. In all honesty, love feels like kind of bullshit to me. So much trouble and it all ends in death."

I exhale deeply and I think that now I have skillfully scared the hell out of this guy.

Why do I speak so much?

He clears his throat afer a beat too long. "Well, I'm glad no one broke your heart." He looks dumbfounded, and I'm relieved that he's not lecturing me about all the wrong reasons that fuel my behavior.

I want to be miserable. I know it's wrong but it is what it is.

"So, you don't date—at all?" he questions, his brows puzzling together.

I shake my head 'no' and bite my lower lip.

"You interested, or something?" I joke.

He chuckles and throws me a piece of bread and my dodging skills are null.

"Hey, don't play with food!" I cackle, covering myself with my hands.

We end up cracking into laughter while the cook, the waiter, and the few other customers glare at us.

Man, I forgot how well it felt to smile—and to mean it.

🔸🔸🔸

Back in my car, he takes me home. I notice that his eyes look lighter than before, maybe because his mood has lightened now.

He parks inside the building's garage in my family's spot. The car's engine hums to silence but neither of us has made a move to leave it yet.

"Thank you so much for driving me here," I speak, breaking the silence.

His body turns toward me.

"My pleasure," he adds.

My stomach clenches and unclenches and I'm not sure if the floor of my car is steady enough.

"I hope you had your perfect birthday celebration," I whisper, gulping as I notice his eyes lingering on my lips.

"I had everything I asked for," he replies as his hand raises, tucking a loose tendril of hair behind my right ear.

I swallow hard.

"Happy birthday, Lukah," I blurt out and place a small kiss on his cheek.

I grab the car keys, and get off  before I can think of what I have just done.

🔸🔸🔸

After a very much-needed shower, I get into my mum's soft sleeping gown. It's really woman-like for me, but I wear it just because it reminds me of her. 

My back collapses against my mattress and I contemplate the white, vacant ceiling of my bedroom.

My phone bings, startling me. I slide it open to see an Instagram notification.

📳New Follower: Lukah Jackson

I force myself not to squeal but I hear another bing.

📳New message from Lukah Jackson

In the message, I find a picture of the knife I took from his house, and I see it in the drawer with the rest of the cutlery. Below the picture it reads:

📳You can sleep at peace now.

A smile becomes stitched to my face, and I cover my face with my pillow to stifle my squeal.

How am I supposed to sleep now?