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011. Want
“I know someone who has a crush on you,” Whitney sang as she practically danced into the kitchen, dirty dishes piled precariously against her hip.
“I don’t give a shiiit,” Bo sang back at her. There was a cringe-inducing crash as she tossed most of the dishes into the sink and happily bounced over to Bo.
“So you’re coming to my party tonight? My parents are out of town, it’s a rare opportunity.” Whitney leaned against the counter, dangerously close to the sizzling grill Bo was working over.
“Maybe,” Bo muttered, never drawing his eyes away from the burgers cooking in front of him.
“You haven’t come out with us in like a month. I don’t like this new anti-social Bo. It freaks me out. I miss your face.”
Bo looked up to glare at her briefly before turning back to the burgers.
“I mean I miss your face outside of work. You remember being outside of work, right? It’s a magical place where we’re all happy, and you don’t have to wear a hairnet.” Whitney let out a dreamy sigh. “Anyway, you’re coming tonight and that’s final. And you should totally ask the new guy if he wants to come too.”
“Why don’t you ask him?” Bo asked.
“Because I’m giving you the opportunity to ask him. You know, as a casual gathering of friends and coworkers so there’s not that much pressure for either of you. But it could still be like a possible date scenario.”
Bo tensed. “Why would I want to ask him on a date?”
“Because he’s cute. Cute enough that I’ve seen you check him out. And you never go out with anyone. And he’s super into you,” Whitney explained with a casual shrug.
Bo turned to stare at her seriously. “Who says he’s into me?”
“Clark.”
“What did Clark say?”
“Clark said that he basically only wanted to work here because he has a crush on you or something. He said he’s like obsessed,” Whitney said as she picked a few french fries off a plate and shoved them into her mouth.
“Why would he be obsessed with me? He doesn’t even know me.”
“This sounds like a great question for you to ask him at my party tonight.”
“I’m not asking him on a date to your house party,” Bo said firmly.
“Fine, I understand. You do gotta keep that chastity belt on as long as possible, right?”
“I’m not-“ Bo flushed a bright pink. “You know what, just shut the fuck up.”
“Okay, here’s a compromise. I’ll ask him to come, and I will pointedly mention that you are going to be there. Then all you have to do is show up and he’ll definitely want to hang out with you.”
“Whatever,” Bo said noncommittally.
“So you’re coming?” she pressed.
“I said whatever,” he snapped.
“You’re coming,” she said, poking him in the shoulder. “The old Bo would come. He liked having fun with attractive people. Attractive people that totally want your hot bod.”
“Stop,” Bo growled.
“I know, it’s a strange, unbelievable phenomenon. But sometimes people like you and find you cute. And even more rarely, people like your horrible personality and find that cute, but so far I’m the only recorded case of that ever happening,” Whitney said.
They both paused as the general clamor of the restaurant rose slightly with the added voice of the manager’s shouting. They exchanged knowing looks and Whitney quickly scrambled to pick up completed plates of food.
“Glad we had time for this conversation. And I’ll see you tonight,” she said, adding a wink for emphasis. Bo stared at her pleadingly.
“Why,” was all he managed to say. It was more of a statement than a question.
“Because I want you to,” she replied simply as she backed through the double doors and waltzed out onto the restaurant floor.
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085. Caress
“Just let me take a look at it,” Fay said to the closed bathroom door in the motel.
“It’s fine!” Selma’s voice answered from the other side, sounding like it was nearing levels of hysterical, strangled panic.
“No offense, but you’ve said that about a lot of things that were distinctly not fine. Also, I feel like I might be a better judge of flesh wounds than you.”
“I really think it’s okay,” Selma insisted.
“So you haven’t locked yourself in the bathroom in order to quietly bleed to death?” Fay asked her.
“No. I’d just prefer to tend to the wound myself, if you don’t mind.”
“I do mind because you have less than a basic working knowledge of first aid, and I’ve stitched up more injuries than I can count. You’re turning down an expert here.”
“Yes, but you also happen to be a sadist,” Selma argued.
“I’m not a sadist!” Fay reacted defensively, almost instantaneous. “I mean, come on. If you can’t trust me to take care of you, who can you trust?”
“A medical professional.”
“Okay, at this point, I’m completely willing to take you to the emergency room if that’s what it takes. But you have to explain the whole vampire-bit-me-in-the-neck thing because in my experience that’s not usually the explanation people like to hear,” Fay said.
There was a quiet pause on the other side of the door as Selma considered her next argument.
“You’ll just look at it?” she repeated, her voice small.
“I just want to make sure it’s not life threatening,” Fay assured her. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
The bathroom door opened slowly, revealing Selma with a washcloth pressed against the side of her neck.
“No sadism,” she warned Fay carefully.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Fay promised with a smile. “Just let me see.”
Selma pulled the washcloth away, revealing a red shock of blood against her dark skin. Fay moved closer to examine it, only gingerly touching Selma with her fingertips.
“Is it bad?” Selma asked her.
“It looks worse than it is,” she replied. She picked up one of the remaining clean washcloths. “I think it just needs cleaned up a little, if you’ll let me.”
Selma nodded, albeit somewhat reluctantly. She winced once Fay started to dab at the blood.
“You’re so dramatic,” Fay said with a small chuckle.
“A vampire BIT me,” Selma replied, offended.
“Yeah, it’s kind of in their nature. Biting’s what they do. Generally we just try to stay out of the way of the pointy teeth.” Fay paused and examined the wound once she had most of the excess blood cleared away from it. “And I don’t think you really even got bit. Looks like she just grazed you a little. You don’t even need stitches.”
Selma looked less than comforted. “A vampire bit me.”
“Grazed you,” Fay corrected, rifling through her duffel bag on the floor in search of the first aid kit. “All I gotta do is slap a bandage over it and you’re good to go.”
“Do not slap anything on me,” Selma said, giving her a disgusted look.
Fay returned to her best friend’s side, first aid kit in hand. “Fine, I will place it on your body with a delicate caress.”
Selma shot her another look. “Everything is always weird with you.”
Fay gently turned Selma’s head away to get a proper look at the neck wound again. “I’m hardly the weird one in this relationship.” She lined up the bandage against Selma’s throat and, true to her word, gently placed it over the injury, making sure the adhesive took by slowly tracing the edges with her thumb.
“Good to go?” Selma asked after a moment.
“Maybe you’ll even get a scar out of the ordeal. Chicks dig scars,” Fay replied with a grin.
Selma scoffed and walked away to examine the bandaging in the motel’s bathroom mirror.
“So what are we going to do about the vamp?” Fay asked her, collapsing on one of the beds.
“She still might be useful for information on the werewolves. We just have to be more careful about how we approach her next time. She’s obviously getting paranoid,” Selma replied as she walked back into the room, apparently satisfied with Fay’s bandage work.
“I mean how do you want to slay the bitch,” Fay said, frowning.
“We’re not going to ‘slay’ her,” Selma argued. “She might be our best resource for information on the wolf pack.”
“Yeah, but she bit you.”
“Grazed me, as you so kindly pointed out. And we did have her backed into a corner so to speak.”
“But she bit you,” Fay insisted.
“But we might still need her,” Selma pointed out.
“Fine!” Fay admitted with an obnoxious groan. “But once we’re done with her, I get to stake her. I’m not a forgiving person. I need revenge.”
“Yes, when we for sure don’t need her for any more information, you can kill her for biting me if you feel you need to,” Selma said, letting out a sigh.
“I did say I was a sadist,” Fay said as a pleased smile crossed her face.
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