So I Might Be a Vampire - Book 1 (Original Version)

70: The Truth

"Lesson number one in stalking your ex-girlfriend? Don't get caught."

Jeremy the Stoner passed the joint to me and held up a finger to indicate that he had something to say just as soon as he was able to exhale. I took a long drag and watched Jeremy let the smoke out after a moment, the thick acrid smoke hanging in the air before it drifted high enough to be caught in the crosswinds above the alley.

"You serious man?"

"I don't mean that kind of stalking," I said, knowing exactly how it sounded. "Not the murdery rapey kind, or even the Edward from Twilight kind of stalking. I just kind of check up on her from time to time."

"Huh-huh. And you make sure not to get caught," Jeremy said with a raised eyebrow and I could see the doubt in his face.

I thought about it for a second and felt deeply ashamed. "You're right: I'm totally Edward right now."

We were hanging out in the alley behind Jaime's apartment, so this confession was a hell of a lot more relevant than you probably realized. Jaime lived over on the Danforth in one of the third-storey walk-up apartments that existed over the storefronts along the street. You know the ones: you can usually only access them via a lonely door at the front of the building that nobody ever really sees among the storefronts which populate the street level floors of the building. This door invariably leads to a long flight of stairs that takes you up and up and was hell to move furniture up and down. The thing about some of these apartments was that they were also accessible from the back-alley if you didn't mind climbing up a fire escape to the rooftop of the first-floor restaurant. In the case of the Greek restaurant on the first floor of Jaime's place, the entire rooftop was accessible from said fire-escape and led directly to Jaime's weird little back-patio deal. In warmer weather, she tended to use the rooftop as an extended balcony and even had a propane grill and some plastic chairs set up close to the wooden stairs that led to her kitchen. It was kind of cool, especially with the vents, pipes and air-conditioning units that stuck up from the roof.

If I got there at just the right time, I could even see Jaime through the kitchen window without her realizing that I was outside in the darkness sitting next to the mural-covered wall that the previous tenant had painted.

Apparently, Jeremy had discovered my spot and had decided that it was the perfect spot to smoke a joint. Judging from his cook's whites, he worked in the Greek restaurant downstairs.

"So how long have you been checking in on her, man?"

"Since we've been broken up. She got a restraining order against me and everything, so this is as close as I get."

"Restraining order?" Jeremy asked and I nodded.

Did you forget about the restraining order? Did you think it was some cute little detail that I just glossed over? Do you think it actually had any effect on keeping me away from her? If so, then you obviously don't know the depths to which the humongously rejected will sink.

"She had a cop friend deliver it about a month after we'd broken up. Calvin or some shithead name like that. He was really fucking gung-ho about it too. Probably wanted to get into her pants—"

"You know how some guys are, man," Jeremy nodded in agreement.

"—So you already know he wasn't exactly gentle about the delivery. Dude beat the shit out of me and almost broke my arm."

"And you still came back?"

"Man, fuck that guy! It wasn't like I'd actually hit her or anything so that whole thing came right out of nowhere, you know?"