Page 47 of The Last Vampire
“Protein bar?” He offers the vampire some kind of snack packaged in metallic foil.
“No, thanks.”
Trevor rips open the wrapper with his teeth. “So, you’re from New Hampshire?” he asks as he bites off the top of his treat.
“I am.”
“You look familiar, but I can’t place you,” says Trevor. “Why do you think that is?”
William shrugs innocently, yet he wonders at Trevor’s tone. It is almost as if he is accusing the vampire of something. Or perhaps William is just being paranoid.
“I must remind you of someone you know,” he answers, and Trevor moves closer to him than any human should dare.
“Maybe.” The boy tips his head to the side, his body still invading William’s personal space. “Do you play sports?”
“No.”
“I’m putting together a football team.” Trevor steps back, but it is only to get a full view of William’s physique. “You have the right build. Come to tryouts.”
“No, thank you,” says William, enjoying the way Trevor’s expression hardens at the rejection. “It might interfere with Shakespeare club.”
Trevor’s look of befuddlement almost makes William crack a smile—except he is no longer aware of Lorena’s location. He walks away from the boy to do a quick visual scan of the area, inhaling deeply to isolate her scent—
And he catches a whiff of something else.
A scent both ancient and familiar.
He strides forward to follow it, yet since he must move at mortal speed, he loses it quickly. It was too fleeting a thing to chase.
The ghost of a smell.
And considering where he is, it is no surprise William’s mind resurrected this particular memory.
He spent only one year as a student at Harvard, yet it marked his peak happiness as a mortal. It was on this campus that William first readThe OdysseyandParadise Lost,that he discovered the poems of Anne Bradstreet and the philosophies of Voltaire, that he fell in love with Cordelia and Viola, that he dreamt of a million futures and the whole world was within his reach.
It was also here that everything was ripped away from him.
NEITHER WILLIAMnor Lorena says much on the bus ride back to school.
She has been distant from the moment she laid eyes on that box. It appears she was truly holding on to the hope that he hailed from another version of reality. It is strange to consider that such an outlandish theory seemed easier than accepting the evidence before her.
A vote is once more conducted to choose a movie for the return trip, and something Lorena describes as an “old cult favorite” wins. It is calledNever Been Kissed.
“Have you?” William asks her as the film begins to play.
“Have I…?” she asks, sounding as if she is coming out of a reverie.
“Ever been kissed?”
The question seems to snap her to full attention, because she swallows and blinks a few times. Her reaction makes him feel self-conscious for asking in the first place, especially since he is not sure why he did it.
“Yeah,” she says after a moment, “but I’ve never been in love.”
She sucks in her lips, as if she did not mean to share that last part. And it strikes him that they should not be confiding such things to each other. So he adjusts the volume on the headphones that were provided and tunes in to the screen.
He finds this moving picture technology quite compelling, and the film holds his interest while it plays. Yet once it is over, he feels emptier than before. Like he lost something he never had.
Upon arriving back at the manor, he slips away without anyone noticing. He heads to the library, his favorite place at the school. Dropping into an armchair that’s bathed in silver moonlight, he pulls out the letter and reads his self-authored obituary:
