Caylee's Confessions (Caylee's Confessions Series) Read Free Page B

finally graduated from college.  How did I do it?
 I didn’t know, for I was so busy the past four years hunting the undead, that
I barely made half my classes.  Kevin insisted I have a backup plan though. 
    Killing
undeads didn’t bring in any cash, so I chose to get a degree in Communications
with a minor in Marketing.  Kevin said the communications part would help me to
better read people, so I would be able to tell if they were a vampire, since vamps
only showed their eye color while in distress or while feeding—or so they
thought. 
    This
was somewhat correct, but some vamps, especially the higher levels, showed it
all the time, because they were proud.
    Anyway,
I had graduated, and the family decided we should all take a night off from the
hunt to celebrate.  We all went out to dinner and got pretty wasted, laughing
and re-telling our favorite ‘book club’ stories. 
    I
barely remember getting in the taxi for the ride home.  I awoke in my bed,
hoping everyone had made it home safe.  I dialed Kevin’s number but got no
answer.  He must have gotten a worse hangover than me, which was usually the
case.  As I recalled from the night before, we were fumbling our address to the
taxi driver, but he seemed to understand drunk talk quite well. 
    Not
thinking anything more of it, I went back to sleep with the thought of how
Kevin liked to lie in bed awhile, after a night of drinking.
    When
I woke up later that night, I checked my phone to see if Kevin had called
back.  There were no missed calls from anyone.  I remember feeling a slight
ping in my gut, but I ignored it as I tried dialing Kevin again and again. 
After seven calls, I finally got through.
    “Hello?”
answered a faint- and weak-sounding Kevin.  Phew , crossed my mind as I
waited for the sick feeling in my gut to go away, but it didn’t.
    “Are
you okay?” I asked him.
    “Not
really, not feeling like myself.  I’m going to be in all night.  I think I’m
sick, like not just hangover sick, maybe mono or something,” said Kevin’s weak
voice.
    “Do
you want me to come over and take care of you?” I offered as I got up, phone in
hand.  He loved it when I took care of him while he was hung-over.  In earlier
times in our relationship, after a long night, we would spend the whole next
day just lounging around, ordering movies and greasy delivery food. 
    “No,”
he said abruptly, stopping me as I was putting my shoes on. 
    “What?”
I stuttered out, being completely thrown back by his answer.
    “No,
I just seriously feel really awful.  I can’t come out today, and probably not
tomorrow either.  I think it’s more than a hangover.  I just feel awful.”  I
remember thinking I had heard a slight chuckle in the background, but I brushed
it off.  There was no possible way he would have anyone over if he didn’t even
want me over.
    “Okay…”
I paused, still unsure of what to say.  “Call me when you feel better, I guess.”
    “Oh
I will, definitely.  I can promise you that,” he said, sounding not as sick as
he previously had, but his voice was still off—more cold actually, and he hung
up without a ‘bye.’
    The
way he was acting was so weird, but I eventually convinced myself we had just
had way too much to drink.  I made a self-note to never do it again, because it
wasn’t fun waiting for your boyfriend to recover from a hangover. 
    For
two days, I just sat on my couch and waited, watching anything that was on HBO,
until I got his call.  It came on Monday night around six.  I picked up the
phone after its first ring. Pathetic really, but I was so into Kevin that I
didn’t even care. 
    “Hi,”
I said eagerly, so happy he’d finally called. 
    “Hello,
Caylee,” he said, sounding still a little deeper and edgier.  He must still
have a slight cold , I thought. 
    “Are
you feeling better?  I’ve missed you,” I said.
    “Yes,
actually.  The best I’ve ever felt.  I’m sorry I haven’t called.