My little Marked: Secrets are magic

When I figured that enough time had passed for everyone to have left school, I flopped my mane back over my forehead and left the bathroom, hurrying to the doors that led to the student parking lot. Everything seemed all clear--there was just some random philly wearing those seriously unattractive gang wanna-be baggy pants cutting across the far end of the lot. Keeping his pants from falling down as he walked was taking all his concentration; he wouldn't even notice me. I gritted my teeth against the throbbing pain in my head and bolted out the door, heading straight for my little Bug.

    The moment I stepped outside the sun began to batter me. I mean, it wasn't a particularly sunny day; there were plenty of those big, puffy clouds that looked so pretty in pictures floating around the sky, semi-blocking the sun. But that didn't matter. I had to squint my eyes painfully and hold my hoof up as a make-believe sun block against even that intermittent light. I guess it was because I was focusing so hard on the pain the ordinary sunlight was causing me that I didn't notice the truck until it squealed to a stop in front of me.

    "Hey Twi! Didn't you get my message?"

    Oh crap crap crap! It was Mackentosh. I glanced up, looking at him from underneath my hoof. He was sitting on the open tailgate of his friend Caramel's pickup truck. Over his shoulder I could see into the cab of the truck where Caramel and his brother, Braeburn, were doing what they were usually doing--wrestling around and arguing over Celestia only knows what stupid colt thing. Thankfully, they were ignoring me. I glanced back at Mackentosh and sighed. He had a cider in his hand and a goofy grin on his face. Momentarily forgetting that I'd just been Marked and was destined to become an outcast blood-sucking monster, I scowled at Mackentosh.

    "You're drinking at school! Are you crazy?"

    His little boy grin got bigger. "Yes I am crazy, 'bout you, baby!"

    I shook my head while I turned my back to him, opening the creaky door to my Bug and shoving my books and backpack into the passenger's seat.

    "Why aren't you guys at football practice?" I said, still keeping my face angled away from him.

    "Didn't you hear? We got the day off 'cause of the flank-kicking we gave Phillydelphia on Friday!"

    Caramel and Braeburn, who must have been kinda paying attention to Mackentosh and me after all, did a couple of very Country "Whoo-hoo!" and "Yeah!" yells from inside the truck.

    "Oh. Uh. No. I musta missed the announcement. I've been busy today. You know, big geometry test tomorrow." I tried to sound normal and nonchalant. Then I coughed and added, "Plus, I'm getting a crappy cold."

    "Twi, really. Are you pissed or somethin'? Like, did Lyra say some shit about the party? You know I didn't really cheat on you."

    Huh? Lyra had not said one solitary word about Mackentosh cheating on me. Like a moron, I forgot (okay, temporarily) about my new Mark. My head snapped around so I could glare at him.

    "What did you do, Mackentosh?"

    "Twi, me? You know I wouldn't..." but his innocent act and his excuses faded into an unattractive open-mouthed look of shock when he caught sight of my Mark. "What the--" he started to say, but I cut him off.

    "Shh!" I jerked my head in the direction of the still clueless Caramel and Braeburn, who were now singing at the top of their tonedeaf lungs to the latest Apple strudel CD.

    Mackentosh's eyes were still in the direction of the still wide and shocked, but he lowered his voice. "Is that some kinda makeup thing you're doing for drama class?"

    "No," I whispered. "It's not."

    "But you can't be Marked. We're going out."

    "We are not going out!" And just like that my semi-reprieve from coughing ended. I particularly doubled over, hacking a seriously nasty, phlegmy cough.

    "Hey, Twi! Caramel called from the cab. "You gotta lay off those cigarettes."

    "Yeah, you sound like you're gonna cough up a lung or somethin'," Braeburn said.

    "Dude! Leave her alone. You know she don't smoke. She's a vampony."

    Great. Wonderful. Mackentosh, with his usual total and complete lack of anything resembling good sense, thought he was actually standing up for me as he yelled at his friends, who instantly stuck their heads out of the open windows and gawked at me like I was a science experiment.

    "Well, shit. Twilight's a fucking freak!" Braeburn said.

    Braeburn's insensitive words made the anger that had been simmering somewhere inside of my chest ever since Lyra had cringed from me bubble up and boil over. Ignoring the pain the sun caused me, I stared straight at Braeburn, meeting his eyes.

   "Shut the hell up! I've had a really bad day and I do not need this crap from you." I paused to look from the now wide-eyed and silent Braeburn to Caramel and added, "Or you." And as I kept eye contact with Caramel I realized something---something that shocked and weirdly excited me: Caramel looked scared. Really scared. I glared back at Braeburn. He looked scared, too. Then I felt it. A tingling sensation that crawled over my skin and my new Mark burn.

    Power. I felt power.

    "Twi? What the fuck?" Mackentosh's voice broke my attention and pulled my gaze from the brothers.

   "We're outta here!" Caramel said, throwing the truck into gear and stepping on the gas. The pickup lurched forward, causing Mackentosh to lose his balance and slide, with a windmill of arms and flying cider, onto the blacktop of the parking lot.

    Automatically, I rushed forward. "Are you okay?" Mackentosh was on his hooves and knees, and I belt down to help him up.

    Then I smelled it. Something smelled amazing--hot and sweet and delicious.

    Was Mackentosh wearing a new cologne? One of those weird pheromone things that are supposed to mares like a big genetically engineered bug zapper? I didn't realize how close I was to him until he stood up straight and out bodies were almost pressed together. He looked down at me, a question in his eyes.

    I didn't back away from him. I should have. I would have before...but not now. Not today.

    "Twi?" he said softly, his voice deep and husky.

    "You smell really good," I couldn't stop myself from saying. My heart was pounding so loud that I could hear it's echo in my throbbing temples.

    "Twi, I've really missed you. We need to get back together. You know I really love you." He reached up to touch my face and both of us noticed the blood that smeared the palm of his hand. "Ah, shit. I guess I---" his voice closed off when he glanced at my face. I could only imagine what I must look like, with my face all white, my new Mark blazingly outlined in sapphire blue, and my eyes staring at the blood on his hand. I couldn't move; I couldn't look away.

    "I want..." I whispered. "I want..." What did I want? I couldn't put it into words. No, that wasn't it. I wouldn't put it into words. Wouldn't say aloud the overwhelming surge of white-hot desire that was trying to drown me. And it wasn't because Mackentosh was standing so near. He'd been close to me before. Hell, we'd been making out for a year, but he'd never made me feel like this--nothing ever like this. I bit my lip and moaned.

    The pickup truck squealed to a halt, fishtailing beside us. Braeburn jumped out and grabbed Mackentosh around the waist, and jerked him backward into the cab of the truck.

    "Knock it off! I'm talking to Twilight!"

    Mackentosh tried to struggle against Braeburn, but the philly was Canterlot's senior linebacker, and truly ginormous. Caramel reached around them and slammed the door to the pickup truck.

    "Leave him alone, you freak!" Braeburn yelled at me as Caramel floored the truck and this time they really did speed off.

    I got into my Bug. My hands were shaking so hard I had to try three times before I got the engine started.

    "Just get home. Just get home." I said the words over and over between wrenching coughs as I drove. I wouldn't think about what had just happened. I couldn't think about what just happened.

The drive home took fifteen minutes, but it seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. Too soon I was sitting in the driveway, trying to get ready for the scene I knew, sure as lightning follows thunder, was waiting inside for me.

    Why had I been so eager to get here? I suppose I hadn't technically been all that eager. I suppose I'd just been escaping from what had happened in the parking lot with Mackentosh.

    No! I wasn't going to think about that now. And, anyway, there was probably some kind of rational explanation for everything, a rational and simple explanation. Caramel and Braeburn were retards---totally immature beer-brains. I hadn't used a creepy new power to intimidate them. They'd just been freaked that I'd been Marked. that was it. I mean, ponies were scared of vamponies.

    "But I'm not a vampony!" I said. Then coughed while I remember how hypnotically beautiful Mackentosh's blood had been, and the rush of desire I'd felt for it. Not Mackentosh, but Mackentosh's blood.

    No! No! No! Blood was not beautiful or desirable. I must be in shock. That's it. That had to be it. I was in shock and not thinking clearly. Okay...okay...absently, I touched my forehead. It had stopped burning, but it felt different. I coughed for the zillionth time. Fine. I wouldn't think about Mackentosh, but I couldn't deny it any more. I felt different. My skin was ultrasensitive. My chest hurt, and even though I had my cool DjPON3 sunglasses on, my eyes kept tearing up painfully.

    "I'm dying..." I moaned, and then promptly clamped my lips shut. I might actually be dying. I glanced up at the big brick house that, after three years, still didn't seem like home. "Get it over with. Just get it over with." At least my sister wouldn't be home yet--cheerleading practice. Hopefully, the troll would be totally hypnotized by his new Canterlot guards: Black Hawk Down video game (um...ew). I might have Mom to myself. Maybe she would understand...maybe she would know what to do...

    Ah hell! I was sixteen years old, but I suddenly realized that  I wanted nothing as much as I wanted my mom.

    "Please let her understand," I whispered a simple prayer to whatever god or goddess might be listening to me.

    As usual, I went in through the garage. I walked down the hall to my room and dumped my geometry book and saddlebag on my bed. Then I took a deep breath and headed, a little shakily, to find my mom.

    She was in the family room, curled up on the edge of the couch, sipping a cup of coffee and reading Dandelion Soup for a Mare's Soul. She looked so normal, so much like she used to look. Except that she used to read exotic romances and actually wear makeup. Both were things her new husband didn't allow (what a turd).

    "Mom?"

    "Hum?" She didn't look up at me.

    I swallowed hard. "Mama." I used to call her, back in the days before she married Thunderlane. "I need your help."

    I don't know whether it was the unexpected use of "Mama" or if something in my voice touched an old piece of mom-intuition she still had somewhere inside her, but the eyes she lifted immediately from the book were soft and filled with concern.

    "What is it, baby--" she began, and then her words seemed to freeze on her lips as her eyes found the Mark on my forehead.

    "Oh, Celestia! What have you done now?"

    My heart started to hurt again. "Mom, I didn't do anything. This is something that happened to me, not because of me. It's not my fault."

    Oh, please, no!" She wailed as if I hadn't said a word. "What is your father going to say?"

    I wanted to scream how the hell would any of us know what my father was going to say, we haven't seen or heard from him for fourteen years! But I knew it wouldn't do any good, and it always just made her made when I reminded her that Thunderlane was not my "real" father. So I tried a different tactic--one I'd given up on three years ago.

    "Mama, please. Can't you just not tell him? At least for a day or two? Just keep it between the two of us until we...I don't know...get used to it or something." I held my breath.

    "But what would he say? You can't even cover up that thing up with makeup." Her lips curled weirdly as she gave the crescent moon a nervous glance.

    "Mom, I didn't mean that I'd stay here while we got used to it. I have to go; you know that." I had to pause while a huge cough made my shoulders shake. "The Tracker Marked me. I have to move to the House of Luna or I'm just going to get sicker and sicker." And then die, I tried tell her with my eyes. I couldn't actually say the words. "I just want a couple of days before I have to deal with..." I broke off so I didn't have to say his name, this time purposefully making myself cough, which wasn't hard.

    "What would I tell your father?"

    I felt a rush of fear at the panic in her voice. Wasn't she the mom? Wasn't she supposed to have the answers instead of the questions?

    "Just...just tell him that I'm spending the next couple days at Lyra's house because we have a biology project due."

    I watched my mom's eyes change. The concern faded from them and was replaced by a hardness that I recognized all too well.

    "So what you're saying is that you want me to lie to him."

    "No, Mom. What I'm saying is that I want you, to be my mama. To help me pack and to drive with me to this new school because I'm scared and sick and I don't know if I can do this all by myself!" I finished in a rush, breathing hard and coughing into my hoof.

    "I wasn't aware that I had stopped being your mom," she said coldly.

    She made me feel even more tired than Lyra had. I sighed, "I think that's the problem, Mom. You don't care enough to be aware of it. You haven't cared about anything but Thunderlane since you married him."

    Her eyes narrowed at me. "I don't know how you can be so selfish. Don't you realize what he's done for us? Because of him I don't have that awful job at the quilt shop. Because of him we don't have to worry about bits  and we have this big, beautiful house. Because of him we have security and a bright future."

    I'd heard these words so often I could have recited them with her. It was at that point in our non-conversations that I usually apologized and went back to my room. But today I couldn't apologize. Today I was different. Everything was different.

    "No, Mother. The truth is that because of him you haven't paid  any attention to your phillies for three years. Did you know that your oldest daughter has turned into a sneaky, spoiled slut who's screwed half of the football team? Do you know what nasty, bloody video games Shining Armour keeps hidden from you? No, of course you don't! The two of them act happy and pretend to like Thunderlane and the whole damn make-believe family thing, so you smile at them and pray for them and let them do whatever? I'm so sick of my life that I'm glad the Tracker Marked me! They call that vampony school the House of Luna, but it can't be any darker than this perfect home!" Before I could cry or scream I whirled around and stalked back to my bedroom, slamming the door behind me.

I hope they all drown.

    Through the too thin walls I could hear her making a hysterical call to Thunderlane. There was no doubt that he'd rush home to deal with me. The Problem. Instead of sitting on the bed and crying like I was tempted to, I emptied the school crap out my saddlebag. Like I'd need it where I was going? They probably don't even have normal classes. They probably have classes like Ripping Ponies Throats Out 101 and...and...Intro to How to See in the Dark. Whatever.

    No matter what my mom did or didn't do, I couldn't stay here. I had to leave.

    So what did I need to take with me?

    My two favorite pairs of jeans, besides what I had on. A couple of black T-shirts. I mean, what else do vamponies wear? Plus, they are slimming. I almost passed on my cute aqua-colored sparkly cami, but all that black was bound to make me more depressed...so I included it. Then I stuffed tons of bras and thongs and hair and makeup things into the side pouch. I almost left my stuffed animal, Smarty Phants (couldn't say pants when I was two), on my pillow, but...well...vampony or not I didn't think I could sleep very well without him. So I tucked him gently into the damn saddlebag.

    Then I heard the knock on my door, and its voice called me of my room.

    "What?" I yelled, then I convulsed in a bout of nasty coughing.

    "Twilight. Your mother and I need to speak with you."

    Great. Clearly they didn't drown.

    I patted Smarty Phants. "Smarty, this sucks." I squared my shoulders, coughed again, and went out to face the enemy.