“Nice digs.” Milo admired my new bedroom, and I knew he was thinking the same thing that I had; it was surprisingly me. “Did they do this for you?”
“I think Mae did some redecorating or something,” I shrugged. My understanding was that she’d entirely redone it for me, but that was too creepy to tell people. They didn’t understand that she’d waited her whole life to decorate a girl’s room.
“So, how are they treating you?” He sat tentatively at the edge of the bed, afraid that I might kick him out at any minute for invading my privacy or something.
“Really good. They seem really happy to have me around.” I twirled my phone in my hands, watching Milo carefully. “How’s Mom?”
“Good. She misses you, I think. I mean, she won’t say it. But she wants you back at home.” When he looked at me, his worried eyes looked sad. “Are you gonna come home?” Then he cast a derisive look around my room. “Nah, I guess not. This is probably all too much to pass up for our little apartment.
There its just me. Here, you have Jack.”
“It’s not like that.” Guilt rushed over me. I pictured Milo sitting sadly in that apartment, making exotic meals just for one, and I wanted to cry.
“Then what is it like?” Milo demanded. He wasn’t angry; he just wanted to know what was going on with me. “To be honest, I was a little surprised that you and Jack had separate bedrooms. Or is that just for show?”
“There’s nobody to show,” I grumbled, avoiding his insistent stare.
“Alice, why are you here?” he asked wearily.
That was the question at the heart of it all, the one that I couldn’t precisely answer. As much as they’d given me the run around of being “meant” for Peter and “bonded” with Jack, and to a lesser extent, Ezra, none of it was really a suitable answer for Milo. It just like I was supposed to be here, with them, but an answer like that would only lead to more questions.
“It’s just where I want to be for now,” I finally said. It didn’t sound good enough, and I could tell by his expression that it wasn’t. “They’re really nice to me.”
“And I wasn’t?” Milo retorted, sounding a combination of hurt and incredulous. “I mean, if you’re not with Jack, and you’re not just about the money, then… What do you do here all night long? Are you drinking? Is it drugs?”
“No, no, it’s nothing like that.” I shook my head and had to fight the smile that wanted to creep up at the word “drinking.” There was definitely a kind of drinking going on around here, just not the one he had in mind.
“I’m just trying to understand why you won’t come home.” By then, he was nearly pleading with me, and it broke my heart. “I can get Mom off your back, if you could just try to get home before she does. And you don’t have to hang out with me all the time, but I’ll help you with your homework and I can make you supper. Then you could just come out here and hang out with them.
You don’t have to live here.”
“I’m not living here.” Swallowing hard, I tried not to look at him. When he was sad, he looked so young. He had big innocent brown eyes, and they were so forlorn. Really, he just didn’t want to be alone, and I didn’t blame him. “I just need some time here to figure things out, okay? But don’t think for a second that I’m going to just leave you behind. You mean too much for me to just walk away from you, not even for a foxy guy and a lot of money. There’s nothing for you to worry about.”
“What do you need to figure out?” Milo furrowed his brow, but I could tell that he’d relaxed a little.
I decided to tell him the truth on this one. “What I’m going to do with the rest of my life.”
“You’re thinking about college?” He brightened at that, and I knew that I’d inadvertently opened the door for all sorts of college talk that I really didn’t want to listen to.
“Among other things.” College had vaguely crossed my mind, as in, hey since I’ll be a rich vampire I won’t have to go to college anymore.
“I know you were mostly being sarcastic, but I started doing some research on med school and psychiatry for you, and there are lots of fabulous opportunities because we’re so close to the Mayo Clinic.” The tangent had started, and he was moving his hands and talking excitedly.
“Milo, you’ve seen my grades,” I tried to nip his enthusiasm in the bud.
“There’s no way I could get into med school.”
“You’ve got a year and a half to turn it around,” he brushed me off. “The U of M has a lot of great programs too, and if you really worked hard your first couple of years, it would be so fantastic for you.”
“I’m sure it would,” I murmured.
I decided to let him just go on, nodding and agreeing when the conversation required. He was happy to be talking about something he was an expert on, and something that still included me in his future. Especially if I went to college around here, it would keep me close to him. Or that’s what he thought.