My Best Friend the Vampire

I woke up with a gasp, the taste of someone else’s kiss on my lips, and no memory of who it belonged to. lying in bed, and staring at the ceiling, memories of a boy groping me, hands at the back of my hair, his mouth buried on mine while I sat on his lap, my skirt lifted while I grind, moaned, smooching and twisting my waist like my whole life depends on it. My hands at the back of his hair, his hard on buried deep inside me while I’m dripping wet with a slimy particle formed through an intense burst of pleasure and passion. In reality, I groaned trying to shake off this weird dream that was slowly turning into a routine. It was one of those dreams that felt like déjà vu, but impossible, because I’ve never seen the boy before as his face was blurred, smudged like paint left out in the rain. His hands, voice, something about them felt familiar, like a song I’d forgotten but couldn’t stop humming. The worst thing was that in actual life, I was slimy down there, a pool of release like I had not just done it in a dream but also in reality. I tossed and turned, heat creeping up my neck. ‘Why am I dreaming about some random guy? Is this some wet dream?’ My heart thumped faster than it should at the thought of experiencing that tension; it felt so real. I tossed the covers aside and grabbed my phone from the nightstand, only for a notification from Liam to blink at me. "Hey, wanna grab coffee?" Liam, my best friend since forever, we told each other everything, almost anything. Without waiting, I typed back. “Yeah, sure. When?” Three dots blinked back almost instantly. Typical Liam, he was quick, concise, and efficient, always early, reliable, and infuriatingly calm. I shoved my phone under my pillow for a second and flopped back onto my bed. My chest was still tight, a weird ache I couldn’t name. I pushed those dreams aside as it was too early to reel in those wet feelings, too early for drama and anything. It was Monday, and the world didn’t need my existential crisis before the seventh period. I got dressed in my usual uniform, jeans, hoodie, sneakers, and did a quick check in the mirror. My hair was a mess, my eyes puffy, but nothing that couldn’t be fixed with coffee. I grabbed my backpack and slipped out the door, locking it behind me. The morning air was crisp, biting at my cheeks, I wondered if anyone else had dreams like mine, the kind that left you both awake and exhausted at the same time. When I reached the corner café, Liam was already there, hands wrapped around a steaming cup, looking impossibly normal. His hair fell into his eyes, the way it always did, but somehow it made him look older, dangerous even, though I knew better. He smiled when he saw me, that small, knowing smile that made my stomach twist for no reason. “Morning,” he said, his voice low, calm, and controlled. “Morning,” I muttered, sliding into the seat across from him. For a moment, we just sat there, sipping our coffee, listening to the faint hum of the espresso machine and the quiet chatter of other people. It should have felt mundane, and ordinary, but it didn’t, as something about the way he was looking at me, the way his eyes lingered, felt off. “Sleep okay?” he asked, stirring his coffee slowly. I hesitated, unsure how much to say about the dream. Weird dream of a faceless boy, although totally normal for me, anyway. “Yeah,” I said finally. “Weird dream, nothing important.” Liam raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Weird how?” I shrugged, taking a sip. “Like someone I don’t know, but I feel like I do. Creepy, déjà-vu kind of thing.” He gazed at me with blank eyes and didn’t respond immediately, he just watched me, with that calm, unreadable expression. I shivered. “You okay?” he asked finally, his voice softer now. “Fine,” I said, too quick and utterly defensive. He glanced at me and remained calm, but on the contrary, I knew he’d notice as he always does. Meanwhile, the school was so chaotic, and hectic, that I couldn’t recall specific details or events clearly. Liam walked me to class like he did every morning, and somehow managed to be right there, beside me, wherever I went while I tried not to think about the dream, Halfway through our walk, Ethan waved at me from across the hallway, grinning that easy, sunshiny smile. I waved back, feeling a pang of guilt I couldn’t explain. He was sweet, funny, and kind. But not Liam, never Liam. By the third period, my head was pounding. The dream kept creeping back into my thoughts, hazy flashes of a face I couldn’t see, the way he’d hold me, whisper my name. I shoved my notebook in my bag and tried to focus on Biology, but I couldn’t. Suddenly, a flicker of movement outside the window, something quick, and silent, like a shadow darting between the trees flashed through my peripheral vision. My stomach dropped as I blinked and tilted my head hurriedly to the side, but found nothing, just the branches swaying. I shook my head, trying to dismiss it. “I’m imagining things,” I muttered under my breath. My hand brushed against Liam’s on the desk, it wasn’t intentional or maybe it was but one thing was sure; my pulse spiked and he didn’t pull away or say anything. Just stayed there, quietly gripping his pen, eyes fixed on the page, but I knew he felt it too. I could tell but I don’t know how. By lunch, I couldn’t take it anymore, so I texted Ethan to meet me outside. Liam noticed. “You texting him again?” he asked casually, voice low. I froze, my stomach twisting. “Uh…yeah. Why?” He just shrugged, leaning back. “Just making sure you’re not disappearing from the universe before I get my coffee.” “Liam,” I groaned, but I couldn’t stop the small smile. He smirked back, that little smirk that always made my chest ache. Meanwhile, the afternoon dragged and I kept catching glimpses of something strange. A shadow moving too fast to be human, a flicker of red in the corner of my vision. Every time I turned, nothing was there. When school ended, Liam insisted on walking me home. My backpack felt heavy, but it wasn’t just books, something was weighing me down, the dream, the strange flickers, the tension that seemed to hum between us like electricity. “Hey,” he said suddenly, stopping mid-sidewalk. “You…you okay?” I nodded, trying to sound casual. “Yeah. Just…weird day.” He studied me for a long moment, his eyes softened, just slightly, enough to make my heart skip. “All weird today?” He asked, almost teasing. I froze as that single question made my chest tighten. ‘How could he know?’ I shook my head. “Nothing you’d understand.” He smiled faintly, mysterious, like he always did. “Try me.” Anyways, I wanted to. I wanted to tell him everything about the faceless boy, the hands, the kiss I could almost remember, but something stopped me. Something in the way he was looking at me made my throat tighten. Perhaps, it was fear or desire I couldn’t tell. I forced a smile instead. “Coffee tomorrow?” “Always,” he said, and we started walking again. That night, I lay in bed again, staring at the ceiling. The dream came back, stronger this time as the faceless boy’s hands were warmer, his whispers clearer and that made my heart race. In a flash, I realized I knew him. Somehow, some way, I knew him. His vibes and energy were mostly familiar, I had felt it somewhere or I’d say every day of my life. Despite that, I can’t tell who in reality, in the next moment, I tossed and turned, trying to make sense of the heat creeping through me, the ache in my chest. ‘Why couldn’t I remember him? Why did it feel like something important had happened, something I was supposed to know, yet, I couldn’t. My phone buzzed beside me, a text from Liam: ‘Coffee tomorrow?’ I grabbed it, thumb hovering over reply. ‘Yeah. Can’t wait. ’ I replied in a swift move, aware that even if I didn’t understand the dream or the way my body reacted, and the ache in my chest. However, I knew one thing for certain, I wanted to see him.