Infinite Days by Rebecca Maizel Read Free Book Online Page A

obtaining food was easier than obtaining blood. During my vampire years, it took coercion to lure someone into my house or alleyway in order to suck their blood and leave them for dead.
    “I’ll have a rocky road, triple scoop, in a cup, with rainbow sprinkles,” Tony ordered.
    Watching Tony eat his ice cream made me want to tell him that I was a vampire. He scooped and dug into the creamy mass with gusto and delicately savored each bite. He closed his eyes and smiled each time—even if it was only for a split second. It filled me with an immediate affection for him. I, on the other hand, finished my one scoop of strawberry ice cream with four obnoxious digs of my spoon.
    My vampire past was a secret lodged in my heart. I wanted to tell Tony so that someone would really understand me, see into my soul. Vampires are haunted by pain, longing, and anger. Every imaginable sadness is pressed upon their shoulders. They are victims of torment and they cannot escape.
    Love, oddly enough, is the one respite from this anarchy of misery. Yet, there is a catch: Once a vampire falls in love, they are bound to that love. They will always love that person, no matter what happens. They can fall in love again and again, but each time a piece of their soul is given away. I fell in love twice. Once with Rhode, and a second time with Vicken. The two loves were different. With Vicken, it was less whole than it had been with Rhode. Either way, I was bound. Vampire love is an ache, a hunger, and no matter how much either of them loved me—it was never enough. No matter what is said or done, it is in the vampire nature to be left completely unsatisfied. This was the kind of torment I experienced every day.
    I placed my ice cream bowl down when I heard the clacking of trays hitting the Formica table next to me. One of the Enos brothers and a few of his friends sat down. The youngest one, Roy, sat with students who looked a bit younger than Tony. He kept looking over at me, then whispering to his friends.
    “You’re a hit,” Tony said, licking his spoon.
    “A hit?” I asked. We got up from the table, dumped our bowls, and then walked toward the bookstore, where Tony clarified. “All the guys are staring at you.”
    “Is that a good thing?”
    “I guess, if you’re into guys wanting to date you or whatever.”
    I couldn’t reply, because I had never been on a date before. Not in the human sense, at least.

    “Want to see the art tower before you go home?” Tony asked. “I spend all my time there. It’s Hopper building. You know, after the painter? On the bottom floor is the gym, some lounges, study halls, and TV rooms. Everyone goes there. Chances are you’ll need to do something and someone will tell you to go to Hopper.”
    I kept peeking into my bag of purchases from the bookstore until we walked out of the Union. Tony and I stepped outside and back on the path and he pointed at a building to the left and behind the Union. It was the great stone building. Hugging the front entrance was a medieval-style stone tower. It stood directly to the right of the building and stretched up toward the sky. It faced north, in the direction of the main entrance, but I knew if I were in the tower I could see a full view of the campus.
    We crossed over a long meadow. As we got closer I looked left at another dormitory. Most of the buildings I had seen so far were no more than four or five stories high. It was dinnertime, so most students were picnicking outside.
    Once we got to the glass door of Hopper, Tony held it open for me. In the foyer, I could either go straight into the building or up to the tower. There was a winding staircase just to the right of the main door. We started up the four flights toward the topmost floors of the tower.
    “Wickham is so different from what I’m used to,” I said, holding on to the banister with my right hand and my bookstore bag with my left. “There are people everywhere.”
    Tony looked back and smiled.