Chapter 9

By the time we made it to the pub, Jake and Mike were best friends. As good friends as you can get in 8 minutes. The three of us walked almost hand in hand, me and Jake each on Mike's side. Mike kept hugging me, but it felt a bit too staged for me to care. I felt a bit hurt. I liked to be the centre of attention, after all, I was a witch and a girl with healthy self-esteem.

The pub was fairly empty for a Friday night and the fact there were not so many options of live music around the town, but it was probably early. Jake went to buy what he called the first round, keeping the appearance of having a great night out with friends. I looked around to see Jonathan, but he was not there. It was rather stupid - I would feel him more likely than see him really. You can see vampires if they want to be seen only and I knew that if Jonathan wanted to be seen, he would have already introduced himself and joined our merry company. But you can always feel them around - they bring death and silence with them - and felt nothing. By then I was not bothered for him to join us. After all, if one of them could have crashed our date, there were nothing to hide or pretend. As far as I was concerned, the evening in the original meaning was ruined. I was just trying to see what was his appearance all about.

"He doesn't sound too bad. I don't know why you haven't introduced us before." Mike said to me when we were alone. It seemed to me that there was no right answer. Admitting Jake wasn't too bad would have been a confession of sorts, dismissing him would have sounded a bit too much like a lie. I was starting to be tired of this game.

"Well, you seem like best friends now, so I guess it doesn't matter," I responded sourly.

"Where do you know him from?"

"The accountancy class," Jake replied. He just came from the bar with three beers. I couldn't have believed how good hearing he had to have. The pub was getting fuller, the leading band was trying to persuade everyone they were good. It was the usual set up, little groups of girls getting drunk with their friends, forming impermeable rings fencing off any male who might be interested. I could have heard them complaining about the lack of any suitable guys around, completely oblivious to the fact there were groups of men around them. The guys were looking at the girls, showing off in front of their friends. Both sides afraid of making the first step, anticipating what could happen next. It would have been interesting to watch if I didn't have my own little drama going on right next to me. Not to mention I still felt this was supposed to be my date night.

He handed us the beers, first to Mike and then to me.

"I didn't know you had classmates," Mike said. I looked at him surprised. I wouldn't have thought he would say something so stupid. Jake was grinning.

"Of course I have classmates. Remember Saira?" I said in an attempt to save the situation. Mike nodded. He didn't know Saira much and we both knew that. In fact, we haven't been dating for a long time and he didn't know many people I cared about. Of course, he knew Mark and the other people who worked in the pub with me. After all, that's where we met. Though Saira was there too.

Naturally, back then I made sure Mike was paying attention to me, not her. I did let him talk to Mark, though - I am not a monster. I am just not sure I would put Mark on the list of my best buddies. In fact, I wasn't sure who would I put on that list. Would an oak count as a friend? Before I could have thought about it a bit more, Mike nodded as if he remembered her and we started to talk about football. In fact, it was more Mike and Jake talking and me observing. I was trying to keep my admiring look on, but it was hard. They were in full bromance mode, the best friends ever forever. It didn't feel right and it didn't help it was all fake.

When they were talking, the contrast was very striking. Mike seemed almost transparent. Sure, he was well-looking, but you could mistake him for many of the other guys in the room. He was trying to stand his ground against Jake, but it was a lost battle. If it were a painting, you could have said that Jake was naturally taking the central stage. Where Mike was painted in pretty watercolour, Jake was full of accented saturated colours. There were dark shadows around him, a bit of death that always kept him company. It would have been tremendously interesting to keep on picking up various details if it should not have been me who should have to be the centre of attention. In their competition, it seemed I were no more the main prize. I ceased to exist.