After school the following day Irene was hurrying to the bus when she heard her name called out. She turned and watched Merle bound up to her.

“What is it, Merle?” Irene asked warily.

Merle bent over, placing her hands on her knees as she caught her breath. After a series of heavy heaves, Merle glanced up at Irene with a queer little smirk. “I thought maybe we could get something sweet."

Although the extension of an olive branch would normally come as a relief, all Irene felt was ambivalence. She looked at her watch, trying to decide how to best budget her time. It was a sunny day for that time of year, and there might be time for an after school treat. Irene reflected that she had not been dealing kindly with Merle, and she didn't want to burn all of her bridges. “Alright, Merle, that would be nice,” Irene answered politely.

Merle’s smile grew as she beamed at Irene. “Cool! I’ll pay! Vice Cream or Timmy’s?”

It was too cold for ice cream, but Irene knew Merle loved it so much that she could settle down on a couch in the middle of a winter storm and spoon away a whole bucket. “Ice cream would be fine."

Merle’s grin continued its radiance, outshining the afternoon sun. Irene could fit in a small sundae or milkshake if only to see Merle keep beaming. Satisfied, Merle walked with a bounce in her step as they headed down the street. Irene was already reviewing the bus schedule to know when she'd have to leave to be home before dark.

As the two girls walked, Merle had the decency to not bring up their previous conversation, and instead talked about whatever ran to the tip of her tongue. Advertisements, billboards, people, and cars were all kindling for Merle’s flood of rambling. Irene listened, nodding her head to show that she was paying attention, and occasionally adding a word here or there.

A few times Irene looked over her shoulder out of habit. Sometimes she'd see a man in a long coat, but then she reasoned on a clear day it couldn't be a vampire. It must just be a coincidence.

“So… what do you want?” Merle chirped as they stood in line.

“I’ll have..." Irene scanned the lit up menu, "...a banana split,” Irene decided to her own surprise. She originally wanted something small, but the smells and sights excited a larger appetite. Merle smiled, walked over to the counter, and declared her order..

The ice cream parlour had an open design that made use of its limited space. Two of the four walls had wall-to-wall windows which ended shy of the ceiling, maximising what little sunlight the valley had. Irene sat at a small booth and stared out the window, watching cars and pedestrians go by.

A tray was set down in front of her, and Irene began to second guess her decision when she stared at the creamy monstrosity. Heaps of soft serve and whipped topping with chocolate fudge swirls and an underwhelming sprinkling of nuts stared back at her. Somewhere in there was a banana, she hoped. Her friend happily dug into a decadent brownie fudge sundae, while Irene demurely set about excavating for fruit.

After a few mouthfuls, Merle looked up at Irene intently. "So, I noticed you've been spending time with that Joseph kid."

"And you've been spending a lot of time with Jordan," Irene shot back before she could rein her tongue in. Merle paused, eyebrows lifted, and then gave a unilateral shrug as she stirred the contents of her sundae around, releasing the sweet and earthy aroma of the hot chocolate fudge.

"Well, yeah. I know with your Dad gone so much, you don't have as much time to visit him."

Irene nodded her head as she crunched on some nuts, trying not to let any shards get wedged between her teeth. "Yeah. You're right." Irene sighed, regret filling her chest. "I'm glad you help cheer him up. Just so long as you aren't burdening him with... worries about me." It was the best evasion Irene could come up with.

"I try not to. But he does ask about you. What am I to say?" Merle waved her spoon around, flicking brown bits without a care.

"Well I guess that can't be helped..." Irene muttered.

"So. Joseph." Merle single-mindedly got the conversation back on track. "Remember when you said that goths were pretentious attention seekers with no more depth than a saltine?"

Irene was relieved Merle wasn't asking about Cyrus, but a little horrified at having her words thrown back at her. Irene scooped up an even portion of syrup, banana, nuts, and cream and held it in front of her mouth, quietly admiring her triumph. "Yes, I did say that. But I realise I shouldn't have been making fun of them. I don't know what they may be dealing with."

"Hey, it's not like you said that to anyone's face, right? We just laughed behind their backs." Merle paused and set her spoon down upon seeing Irene's arched eyebrow. "Don't give me that look, Irene. You rolled your eyes at Joseph and all the others." With a slight pout on her lower lip, she scraped the sides of her disposable sundae cup. "It's not like you're a bully, Irene."

"Maybe not. But I realised I was the pretentious one," Irene reflected after clearing her mouth. "Anyway, Joseph is really nice. But I never tried to get to know him because I thought anyone who wears black would be gloomy, and I don't need gloom."

"No you don't. You're gloomy enough as it is." Merle looked momentarily uncomfortable. She thrust her spoon into her sugary dessert, bringing out a large brown glob to keep her mouth busy while her mind processed. Once she had swallowed, she lifted her spoon, pointing with it as she spoke. "You know, if everyone didn't know Joseph is gay, I'd be worried on Jordan's behalf. You almost never say anyone is 'really nice'."

"Everyone knows? Or they just assume he is because he paints his nails?" A nut squeaked in protest between Irene's teeth.

Merle's cheeks flushed. "It's just something everyone knows! I bet he'd tell you if you asked."

"It's really none of my business. It's also irrelevant since I have Jordan." Irene poked at her banana some more. Merle scoffed and rolled her eyes.

For a moment the two girls ate in silence. Then Merle looked across the table at Irene with a renewed focus. “So… I mean, like I said, Joseph isn't really a concern. But..." Merle paused and licked her lips, "...what about Cyrus? I mean, as you say... you've got Jordan..."

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Irene narrowed her eyes and stabbed her banana with enough force that whipped topping splattered on her hand. "Don't even go there, Merle. He's dangerous." Irene licked the creamy white dessert off the back of her hand.

"Ha. You look like your cat right meow," Merle giggled. Irene just looked up at her and rolled her eyes, not in the mood to smile. The red-haired friend glanced out the window for a moment or two. "So if Cyrus is so dangerous, why do you spend so much time around him?"

Irene sighed as she scooped up a chunk of banana. Merle truly had a one-track mind; she pecked and scratched until she was satisfied. “I try NOT to spend time with him, Merle."

“Then why is he staying with you?”

Irene sighed and shook her head. THAT was a valid question, one she kept asking herself.

“Because he won’t go away."

“Uh-huh. Why don’t you make him? Tell your Dad what you told me."

Warm air passed through Irene’s lips as she sighed. "I can't."

"Why not?"

“It'd take too long to explain." Exasperation was already growing in Irene. She cooled it off with a mouthful of soft serve.

“We’ve got time. Besides, your Dad is a great guy, and he'd never let anyone bad into your house. None of this makes sense.” Merle persisted.

“It's complicated." Irene was aware she was sounding like a broken record. "Cyrus claims that he took care of me when I was sick. I was told he saved my life but I think that's stretching the truth a bit,” Irene admitted, severing pieces of her banana with her spoon and spreading the chunks all around.

“He saved your life?" It was Merle's turn to sound exasperated. "And you still don’t like him? I’d be swept off of my feet if someone saved me!” Her blue-gray eyes glittered.

“May have saved my life. And saving a life doesn't negate all the trouble he caused,” Irene muttered. Merle just about choked on a brownie chunk.

“He saved your life Irene!”

“He’s bad news, Merle!”

“Not if he’s saved you! Anyone who takes care of my friends is a good person in my books!” Merel insisted. “Maybe he was bad, but maybe saving you is his way of repenting. Give him a chance… wait… what am I saying?”

“Yes, Merle, what are you saying? I still have Jordan..." ...I hope... "...so I won't let someone come in and sweep me off my feet. I’m not a part of one of your girlish romances!” Irene said crossly, insecurities leftover from the row she had with Jordan bubbling to the surface.

Merle stared, her face going from pink to scarlet. “Girlish romances!? You think I’m silly to want my romance to actually be romantic, rather than just some sort of casual whatever that you and Jordan have? You guys never kiss, never say you love each other, and sometimes I just wonder!” Once again, Merle was getting riled up. And while Irene usually patiently endured Merle's outbursts, she was too raw not to be baited.

Irene curled up her lips in a sneer. “What do you know, Merle!? You've never had a boyfriend!”

Merle's eyes went wide and she inhaled sharply, choking on a chunk of brownie. Merle grabbed a napkin and coughed into it, while banging her fist on the table with her other hand.

Once Irene was sure Merle was alright, she didn't wait for her friend to make a rebuttal and added, "Anyway Jordan and I are just more private with our affection. We're comfortable with each other."

Merle cleared her throat, using a clean napkin to dab at her eyes. “You may be comfortable, but have you ever thought what Jordan feels? You take him for granted! And no one's going to wait forever for an ice-queen!”

Irene's eyes went wide as colour drained from her face. Merle had overstepped a line, and it set Irene reeling. Irene pushed the remains of her banana split away from her, stood up, and stormed out. Irene hadn't the wherewithal to acknowledge that she shot first with her own thoughtless remarks; all she knew is that she was hurt again and would not stay to be emotionally battered further.

With her thoughts thundering over Merle's implications, Irene stepped out of the Vice Cream.

An ear-bursting boom terminated all cognition.

Irene threw her arms over her head protectively. She wanted to run, but her legs wobbled. Screaming and pandemonium broke out as people in the parking lot rushed for safety. Standing amidst it all was the man in a long coat. In his hands he held a hunting rifle. Irene yelped when she felt her arm being grabbed, only to realise it was Merle tugging her.

“C’mon Irene, we gotta go!”

Irene’s legs freely gave way to Merle’s urging, and one leg clumsily managed to put itself in front of the other. What now? Irene and Merle were halted by another shot that ricocheted off of a metal bike rack in front of them. Both girls screamed and crouched down, arms over their heads.

“Not so fast!”

Terror resonated through Irene at the sight of that barrel pointing at her and her friend.

“What do you want from us!?” Merle yelled. Irene covered Merle's mouth.

BOOM!

Like a spider web, glass cracked in a radial pattern out from a hole in the nearby windshield. A smaller crash drew Irene's gaze to a cell phone that had been dropped by a man hiding behind the car. Pointing his rifle back at Irene, the shooter nonchalantly walked over and crushed the cell phone with his platform boot. Even with all the noise and confusion, she could pick out the sound of the rifle being reloaded.

“You’re coming with me… AND NOBODY BETTER THINK OF CALLING THE COPS!”

Irene looked up, eyes traveling up his ripped jeans, up past his studded belt, up past his shirt with the faded skull on the chest. He waved his gun in the air in an act of intimidation. Irene tried to make sense of the situation, her extremities all tingling with fear. It was broad daylight, so it couldn’t possibly be a vampire. And a vampire wouldn't need to use a gun. So why was this happening to her?

Free of Irene's hands, which were now protecting the back of her own neck, Merle begged, “Please just let us go!”

The man with the rifle laughed. He approached Irene and Merle, keeping his weapon trained on them. As soon as he was close enough he put the rifle in his offhand and grabbed Merle by the arm. She let out an ungodly shriek and thrashed. The man hit Merle with the butt of his gun, momentarily stunning her. The assailant wrapped an arm about Merle, her throat kept in the crook of his elbow, his free hand grabbing a knife which he pressed into Merle's back. “Come along, or your friend here gets it.”

Now Merle was in danger. The abject fear in her friend's face was something Irene never wanted to see. She'd tried so hard to keep her out of trouble. But it was all for naught. Resentfully, Irene followed the man as he led them to a battered, black car.

The punkish man opened the back door of a car. "Get in."

Without a word of protest, Irene and Merle complied. The man tossed his rifle in the passenger seat and got in. Irene looked out at the pale faces of the witnesses. This was too public and open to be the work of vampires. Are they this desperate? What about the low profile and keeping away from the police? Surely, this has to be connected to them, but what are they up to?

The engine revved as the man made a hasty getaway. Irene braced herself for the fast acceleration and sudden turns, and Merle looked desperately out the window. Irene’s face was pale, but her expression was cool and neutral.

Irene looked over at Merle who was sobbing quietly beside her, and all she could think was ‘I told you so’.