View from the Porch

"You look lonely." said a soft voice into the cool night air.

He glanced up at the speaker who had slithered behind him when he was distracting himself counting the stars. She seemed slightly familiar, but he could not quite place her. She had a shy face that seemed wont to blush at any moment and carefully trimmed blonde hair that seemed a slave to gravity. Of course, he had seen her around at the party, but she didn't register as anyone of whom he should possess much knowledge. She was just another college student he had probably seen incalculable time without remembering. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, he knew what her name was, but for the life of him, it wouldn’t materialize. He vaguely recalled that whatever her name was, it appealed to him.

Returning his gaze to the stars, he sighed, "I am not lonely, my dear, only alone." Sensing her backing up a step, he continued, "But I certainly wouldn’t mind your company."

She smiled sweetly, drunkenly. "Why are you out here in the cold, Will, rather than being social in there?" she asked as she sat down on the dewy gray bench next to him. The combination of the half-drained glass of red wine in her hand and the autumn chill after the mugginess of the party had succeeded in making her feel light-headed. She was therefore very grateful to be off of her feet. She took another small sip of the wine once she was confident the world wasn’t going to slip out from under her. The warmth of the liquid helped her courage grow, and courage was the only thing propelling her on.

He gave her a grateful, though wry half-grin. She knew his name and had him at a disadvantage. "I might ask the same of you. It was just getting too... hot... inside and no doubt someone would be vomiting soon. That always seems to happen at these sort of college parties. The porch just seemed so appealing and quiet. And, as you’ve apparently noticed, it's quite a spell cooler here." Just as he said this, the chill of a breeze caught him and he hugged his brown vinyl jacket to him tighter to ward it off. Silently, he had been fostering the illusion that the jacket coupled with his white muslin shirt made him look like a professional photographer; like someone else entirely. The invitation for the party stated that the guest should dress well, but he had no interest in that. He noticed that his present companion was wearing a fuzzy blue tank top and enticingly tight leopard print jeans. Knowing that she had scorned the invitation's only requirement in such an erotically charming way caused him to warm slightly to her.

His gaze did not go unnoticed or, secretly, unappreciated. She stammered nervously, "Actually, Matt just did. Puke, I mean. All over himself and the living room. His friends made him change out of his clothes, which was good. They put him in a pirate outfit, though. When I saw him hitting himself in the head with a plastic sword over and over again, I decided it was time to get some air." He laughed quietly at this and she grew bolder, "And I noticed that you exit through the back door a few minutes ago. Hey, would you like something to drink?" Moments after the last syllable left her lips, the undesirability of alcohol given her story occurred to her. He cheeks flushed with embarassement. "Damn, I’m blushing, aren’t I? Guess I’m earning my name."

A clue in her quip, he thought, as to what her name might be. Blush? No, that’s ridiculous. Red? No real person is named Red, only truckers and prostitutes. Ruby? No, he reasoned, Rubies are older and wear a great deal of eye-shadow. Scarlet? Yes, that was it. Her name is Scarlet Todlich. It fit her perfectly. She even reminded him slightly of Scarlet O’Hara, though in no easily explainable way.

"No, Scarlet, I don’t have much interest in alcohol. Not really my beverage of choice. I’m fond of keeping my wits about me." He realized he had somewhat offended her, as she bore the all the earmarks of a social drinker. To make amends, he touched her hand and glass in a gesture to asked for a taste of her wine, which she gave. "My, this is rather sweet, my dear. It doesn’t quite have the bite I expect from wine. And it is such a lovely color. Still, I think I’ll refrain for now."

She nodded without thinking, only stopping when she realized his touch had weakened her resolve, which she promptly restored by sipped heavily from her glass. She liked how the glass was still warm from where he had sipped from it and rotated the glass to she could sip from the same place. Noticing that he began to look off at the stars again, she tried to reinvigorate the conversation and return his attention to her, where she firmly hoped it belonged.

"Who are you here with?"

"I’m not really here with anyone, in the sense you mean. I came with Liz Bathory, but I haven’t the slightest clue where she has gone off too... Probably in the bathroom." He softly laughed to himself, not bothering to explain to Scarlet what he found funny. "And yourself?"

"Oh, I came here with Covany, but she has left me for her boyfriend. In fact, she was my ride home... Do you think Liz would be willing to drive me home?" She didn’t actually know who Liz was, probably the elegant looking brunette girl she saw him around campus with a few weeks ago. Scarlet mused that Liz, if that was indeed who the girl was, looked like a bitch. Probably broke Will’s heart. But getting back to campus was more important that building vitrol toward this girl. This Liz girl couldn’t live very far away if she was invited to this party. Scarlet was fairly sure she wasn't in any condition to drive home, given that this was her fourth glass of wine. "Has your friend been drinking, do you think?"

Will smiled at her broadly, restraining his laughter to explain. "No. Not alcohol at least. I’m fairly sure she’ll be spending the night here, though. Which leaves us both in the same boat. No way back to campus and it is getting late. Would you mind terribly my walking you home?"

She blinked a few times, making sure she had heard him correctly. She took stock of her senses. It certainly sounded like he had asked to walk her home, but it was well over a mile back to campus and the night wasn’t getting any warmer. Then again, the mere thought that he took this sort of notice of her warmed her considerably.

"Well, I suppose I wouldn’t mind. But it’s kind of cold..."

Before she could finish her protest, Will had enshrouded her in his jacket. The archaic and cinematic gesture flushed her cheeks with blood, an action whose benefits were not lost on Will. Without announcing their departure to anyone else at the party, they left the well-lit refuge of the porch and ventured toward the distant college.

At Will's romantic assurance of safety, Scarlet agreed to take a more scenic route home. The dying leaves made all of the trees look like fires reaching toward the moon, as Will has said. When he asked her to sit with him under one of the most colorful trees, she honestly wondered if she was just dreaming all of this. Reality intruded when she stumbled to the ground and cut her hand on a jagged rock. The pain left her as Will gently kissed the blood away. She was stunned at this gesture. He was far more romantic than she had been equip to believe. When she felt his lips on her neck, she could have simple died of happiness. Once his sharp canine teeth penetrated the skin on her neck, she had only a struggling moment to realize that she just had.

Will was grateful, as always, at the relative ease of getting college girls. And the relative ease with which blood wiped off vinyl.