“As Alec Issigonis once said, ‘The public don’t know what they want; it’s my job to tell them’. Thus, it is us who design, who are responsible for setting the trend, creating new paths in art . . .”

The rest of my professor’s lecture fades into the background of my mind. I am preoccupied with thoughts of my morning with Ms Pink and the—can I say oddly addictive—crop. It has been a wild ride and it’s insane to think that just three weeks and a day ago, I was living a life free of Ms Pink’s omnipresence.

A body of mass rocks the row of seats I’m on and I look towards the source. Oh God. Max. I had almost forgotten about his existence. He offers me a smile when our eyes meet so I return it. But I look away from him right after that and focus on the professor, hoping that he’ll disappear somehow. Of course, it doesn’t happen. In fact, he shifts to a seat closer to mine and slips me a note.

Still mad at me?

He’s not looking at me when I glance his way. Am I still mad at him? It’s been a week since I last saw him and to be honest, I haven’t had time to think about him at all.

No

He reads what I wrote, then scribbles something else.

Still friends?

There’s no reason why we shouldn’t be.

Yeah sure

You know I’m sorry right?

I know

Wanna grab ice cream after?

Ice cream. Max knows me well. I can never resist an ice cream invite.

Ok

Max is smiling when I sneak a peek at him. This is nice. It’s nice to pretend, if only just for a moment, that my life is as normal as the next student beside me. That my life is not fraught with danger and uncertainty. That I can hang out with a friend after class and eat ice cream. If only.

X

“What happened to you?” Max flicks his spoon at me. “Why did you skip class yesterday?”

I swallow my mouthful of ice cream slowly, taking a moment to consider my answer. “I was injured,’ I reply, taking the half-truth way out of this situation.

Max sits up, his eyes searching my body for a wound. “Where?”

“My leg.”

“Is it serious? Does it still hurt? How did you get hurt?”

“I had a run-in with my friend’s dog. It was a little too enthusiastic to greet me.”

“You mean it bit you?”

“Yeah, I had to see the doctor for it. But I’m fine now.”

Anxiousness ebbs out of Max’s shoulders and he sighs in relief. “That’s good to know. But you could’ve told me. I would’ve visited you and brought ice cream.”

“It’s okay. My friend accompanied me all the way and I stayed over at her place so you wouldn’t have been able to visit me at home anyway.”

“Who’s this friend of yours? Anyone I know?”

“I think you’ve met her once or twice.” I stop, remembering the more recent encounter.

“When? Where?”

“Er, you met her at ArtsUpp. And the party. She’s, er, the one who brought me home.”

“Oh. That woman. Who is she?”

“She’s Tiffany Pink.”

“Tiffany Pink?” Max’s eyes are wide as saucers. “Wait. She’s the Tiffany Pink?”

“Yeah. The Tiffany Pink.”

“You lucky girl. How did you become friends with her?”

I try not to look too amused as I explain how I came to know Ms Pink and he looks thoroughly impressed.

“You’re so lucky.”

“Who’s lucky?” A new voice enters the conversation and I know who it is without having to look.

“Whoever it is, it isn’t me, Yoona.”

Said woman smiles at us and pulls a chair from a nearby table. “Mind if I join you?” she asks as she sits at our table.

“You’ve already joined us,” I point out.

“You’re totally welcome to join us.” Max puts on his best photo-smile and waves like an idiot. “Hi, I’m Max.”

“I’m Yoona,” she replies, her bright smile probably knocking off Max’s socks as she speaks. She would be knocking mine off too, if not for the fact that I know what she’s up to and why she’s hovering around me. I’m suddenly ferociously protective of my blood. My precious blood.

“Taeyeon,” Max is looking at me as though he’s never seen me before, “what is it with you and your new friends, huh? Good ol’ Max goes on an exchange program and you suddenly turn into the most outgoing girl in the world.”

Yoona laughs. “What are you talking about? Taeyeon isn’t outgoing at all.”

Max grins. “I know, right? She’s the homiest person I know.”

“She’s so homey, you can’t even tell her from the cushion on the couch,” Yoona says with a toothy grin.

“You know I’m right in front of you, right?” I say, glaring at the both of them.

Yoona’s open mouth laugh makes me want to stuff something inside it to shut her up. “Well, it’s been nice talking to ya, but Taeyeon here has some place to be.” She taps my shoulder as she rises. “Let’s go.”

“But she’s supposed to be on an ice cream date with me,” Max protests.

“She’s got more important things to do right now, Mr Good-looking.” Yoona hauls me up from my seat, bag and all. “I’ll return her to you some other time.”

I’m promptly tucked into a gleaming white supercar, ice cream in hand and Yoona issues a severe warning about dirtying her car seat before driving off.

“Where are we going?”

“Home.”

“Which home?”

Yoona throws me a glance. “How many homes do you have?”

That’s a good question. Why am I thinking of Ms Pink’s castle when the word ‘home’ comes up? “Just one.”

“Exactly.”

I swallow another spoonful of ice cream before asking, “Why did Ms Pink hire you to protect me?”

“Because I’m the best.”

“Slayer?”

“Mhm. I have the best vampire-beast apprehension rate out there.”

“Are there many other slayers?”

Yoona shakes her head. “It’s a small circle. There’s only a handful of us. But the treaty reduces the need for us so it’s to be expected.”

“How did you end up becoming a slayer?”

“It’s a family business. My parents were slayers,” says Yoona, sticking her thumb out, “and my grandparents,”—her index finger, then middle finger—“great grandparents . . .”

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