Thank you to everyone who read the last chapter and to prepare4trouble, ChelseaGrinn, CastleRockGirl, and Silverheels12 for reviewing.
Guest: He's still fighting! :) Thank you for your feedback on Sam as well!
Elle: Well, I am being evil to both of them. :)
Despite the cool, windy weather they all decided to sit outside for lunch time. Away from the chaos of the cafeteria that was filled with active students. Alan knew it was because of him. Everyone else wanted to avoid it to make sure he didn't let the lingering scents drive him into a frenzy. He wanted to snap. But they were only trying to help. He had to remind himself of that as everyone dug into their lunch.
They're only trying to help me, he thought.
He was the only one without food, not particularly tempted by anything the cooks had set out. Wednesday was usually Italian day at the school and the students had their choice of pizza, lasagne, or vegetarian pasta bake for hot food choices. If he had been human, he would have been eager to dig in. A decent size portion of lasagne with two slices of garlic bread. Washed down with a cold coke.
Today he sat with his head cradled in his palms, watching everyone happily stuff food into their mouths and unable to help wishing he could enjoy a meal like that. A meal that could only be taken from people's veins.
Stop it, he warned himself. He suddenly cleared his throat, realising that his eyes had been glued onto Sam's neck opposite him and he tore his stare away.
"You okay?" Edgar asked.
Alan nodded, continuing to look down at Sam's tray. He felt eyes on him and when he finally looked up to face everyone, they were all watching him carefully. They had paused in their eating and he noticed Sam had moved his hand to cover his neck, slowly rubbing the spot he had been staring at.
"Sorry, Sam," he muttered.
"Um, it's fine, bud. I guess I'm… uh… irresistible, huh?" He let out a chuckle, attempting to lighten the mood and joke but his humour fell flat as did the grin he had forced onto his face. He continued to rub at his neck while Alan move to fold his arms tightly across his chest.
"So, any plans for tonight?" he asked.
"The usual. Hunting," Edgar said and gestured to everyone but Bernice.
"I have work but I'll be keeping an eye on the customers," she said.
"We were thinking of checking out where all the adults work," Edgar added. "Maybe start making a list of suspicious employees or customers."
Alan nodded. "Sounds like a plan."
"I need to pick Mom up tonight from the hospital so me and Bonnie can check it out while we wait," Sam said.
"We're checking out the hotel and theatre Bonnie's parents work at," Bridget added, gesturing between her and Edgar.
"I'll come with you," he said.
"You sure?" Edgar asked.
"I can manage."
There was no argument from his brother. Edgar simply nodded before going back to the last bit of his pizza. That was really the last thing they both said to each other as the rest of lunch was spent with lighter conversation. Bridget ranted about Imogen Reece, complaining how she had been catching snide whispering from her fellow peer and snotty little sidekick, Peg, all morning. Bonnie complained about every single boring lesson she had so far, looking forward to a study period next and double drama to finish off the day. Sam threw jokes to cheer the girls up, especially Bernice who had suffered a morning of trying to talk to Leon and doing nothing but failing. Edgar stayed quiet, chewing slowly on his food as he listened to his friends attempt to sound like a normal group of teenagers.
Alan was quiet as well, not really paying much attention. He was really waiting for the school bell to ring. For the end of the day overall. Even though they sat away from the cafeteria, he was only going to walk right into more classes full of students. Some of which included Bobby's pack of smarmy, mouthy idiots. Alan wasn't sure how well he would be able to hold it together if they tried anything with him.
When the bell rang, signalling the end of lunch he took a deep breath. It was time for American Literature. Presentation time.
He felt drained. Exhausted from keeping himself awake and trying to fight the sunlight that took away his strength and hurt his eyes. His head continued to thump from the brightness, accompanied by the ever constant beat of hearts around him. Everyone else were already on their feet, tossing their rubbish into the bins nearby but Alan stayed sat down. A gentle nudge from Sam made him glance up.
"You can't stay out here, bud," he said.
"And you're not leaving me by myself to do the presentation," Bridget added.
A reluctant Alan stood up, not rushing in his movements and he frowned at Bridget and Sam when had straightened up. One of the heartbeats had picked up now. Quick, short thumps and he glanced at Bridget. She was smiling but he noticed the small indent on her lips where her teeth had been biting down on.
"You're nervous," he said.
"I hate presentations. Having to talk about something in front of people…" She shuddered and began walking with him and Sam, sauntering behind the others.
"Your heart's going really fast," Alan said and she glimpsed at him with a frown. Edgar looked behind, a suspicious eyebrow raised.
"Stop listening to people's hearts," his brother said.
"I'm not doing it for my own amusement," Alan snapped.
"Guys, quit snapping at each other," Sam said, sighing.
Thankfully the brothers ceased their bickering. Edgar turned away, concentrating on walking ahead and staying silent. But Alan continued to glare right into the back of his brother's head. A scowl plastered on his face until they had to go their separate ways for classes.
"Come on," Bridget said, tugging on Alan's sleeve and they turned into their classroom. Bobby was already there, an arm draped over Imogen's shoulder as she whispered with Peg. Alan thought back to yesterday, where Bobby had gone too far. The joy he had felt, pinning the helpless jock to the lockers and threatening him came back and he found himself smirking. Especially when Bobby caught his eye at he walked in. Normally if Bobby paid him any attention when he appeared, there would be an arrogant grin forming on his face. A snide remark ready and waiting. But after their confrontation yesterday, Bobby was grim. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, tension in his shoulders. Then, with a small grunt, he nodded.
"Frog," he muttered.
"Denton," Alan replied and stopped. He continued to smirk and raised an eyebrow. "You okay? You seem a little nervous."
"Don't push it," Bobby said and gestured with his hand for Alan to keep walking.
"Don't start," Bridget whispered and grabbed Alan's hand, dragging him over to their usual seats at the back of the class. She kept her eye on Alan, guiding him to sit down but paused when her eyes found Charlotte's old seat.
"Any news?" Imogen asked her.
Bridget glanced her way. "What?"
"Have they found anything about Charlotte?"
Peg scoffed. "Of course not. It's Santa Carla. When you go missing, you're never found."
"I wonder what happened to her," Imogen muttered and Bridget put her hands on her hips.
"Seriously? All it takes is for her to go missing and you're suddenly sympathetic? You were a total bitch to her!"
"Hey, I don't like seeing people go missing. What do you think I am?"
"You seriously want me to answer that? Because the language I want to use isn't very nice."
"Just shut up and fuck off, Bridget." Imogen turned her top lip up in disgust and moved in her seat so her back was turned.
Alan noticed Bridget's fists clenched and reached his hand over. His fingers brushed against one fist, gently rubbing the skin and she looked at him.
"Your turn to calm down now," he said, smiling when she plopped down on her seat and muttered under her breath. He laughed, nudging her shoulder and she nudged him back.
"If I feel like I want to kill someone as a human, fuck knows what I'd be like as a half vampire," Bridget whispered and flashed one last scowl at Imogen.
The lesson dragged slowly with each pair coming up to present. Alan and Bridget had been picked last and now they could finally get up to begin, after enduring the painfully boring presentations from their classmates.
As they walked up together, Alan heard that quick pulse again. It was loud in his ears, echoing around in his head and he glimpsed at Bridget who he saw take a deep breath. She kept her eyes focused on her notes, not wanting to look up at the rest of the class and, with a shaky voice, read out their introduction.
Her scent wafted in the air around him. The more she spoke, the more her heart raced and she let the nerves in. When it was Alan's turn, he read quickly and tried to ignore his hunger. That need to let his fangs lengthen and rip into the nearest throat. He felt sweat gather on his forehead. When it was Bridget's turn to speak, he clenched his teeth together, stiffening his body to force it to stay put. But there was a whispering in his head, trying to push him into doing what he was resisting the most. There was a creature inside snarling to be released.
Together, he and Bridget had come up with a very detailed conclusion. A reflection that referred to all the points they had been making and it was Alan's responsibility to read it out. But his stomach cramped from the fear in Bridget. A scent that, to his horror, he particularly found appetizing and made his throat burn for it. It had been the same last night, as he snapped and beat up that punk guy on the Boardwalk. There had been fear in him as Alan showed him he wasn't actually someone to mess with. Fear made blood smell better and harder to resist for him.
He raced through the conclusion, trying to ignore the snickering from a few classmates. When he finished, he put a hand to his mouth and felt the tiniest of pricks against his bottom lip.
"Alan, are you alright?" their teacher asked.
"Frog's going to throw up," he heard one boy say and chuckle.
"Sorry, can I just…?" He gestured to the door but despite asking, he didn't wait for permission. He ran back to his table, grabbing his bag and dashing straight out with snickering echoing behind him as he left. The toilets were opposite and he ran towards them, coming to a skidding halt when he was inside.
He grasped onto the sink, trying to breathe in but his throat felt like it was closing up. Slowly suffocating. He glanced up at himself in the mirror, peering at his transparent reflection. His eyes glowed. That horrible, unnatural yellow. He curled his top lip up, looking like he was sneering at himself but he was trying to see how sharp his teeth were. The answer was too long. His incisors and canines were sharp and pointed. The needle-like tips catching his bottom lip. There was a cracking of bones and he whimpered as his face shifted. A quick glimpse of the vampire that wanted to come out before going back to softer, human features.
"Shit," he whispered and closed his eyes.
Calm down, he thought. All you need to do is calm down.
"Alan?" Bridget peeked inside.
"Brid, this is the boys' toilets!"
She shrugged, walking in. "Don't give a shit. Are you okay?" She stopped when she saw his eyes and the point of his fangs. "Oh."
"I just need to calm down," he said and took another deep breath in. "Shit, I can't even control my face changing. I almost went full fang face."
"Okay, just keep breathing. Slowly. You can do this," she said. Her hands reached out, as if to take hold of him but she didn't. She kept her eyes fixed on him. "You're going to be fine."
"Thanks," he whispered, sighing. He did what she asked, listening to her reassure him over and over again. He closed his eyes, feeling his thirst settle. Not disappear entirely but having the urge bubble down for now was enough for him to feel a bit more comfortable in his own body. He felt her hand on his back, rubbing in soothing circles.
"See?" She smiled at him when his eye colour return to normal. "You can do it."
His hugged her. A sudden throw of his arms around her waist and he pulled her closer.
"Thank you," he whispered again.
"No sweat. Told you I got your back," she said and pecked his cheek. Her hands moved from his shoulders to cup his face and she flashed a bright smile at him. It only faded when he didn't return the smile.
"What else is wrong?" she asked.
"I really wanted to drink blood in that lesson."
"Well, you didn't," she reminded him and allowed him to let go of her.
He ran a hand through his hair, cringing at the memory of that lesson. How much he enjoyed fear mixing into the scent of blood and wanted it more than ever. His fingertips played with the cuff of his jacket and he looked down at the tiles.
"I really wanted to drink your blood," he muttered.
"Oh. Right."
There was a silence and when he dared to look her way, he saw her rubbing at her neck. There was a flicker of a grimace on her face and he groaned.
"I've freaked you out."
"No. Well… kind of." She bit her lip and shrugged. "You didn't drink my blood though. That's a good thing. Do you still want to now?"
"It was just in that lesson. You were really nervous doing that presentation and…" His voice trailed off. "Let's leave it at that."
She was silent again, leaning against the sink as she folded her arms but Alan noticed her hand kept going to her neck, almost like a shield. It was a horrible reminder of how much of a monster he was turning into. Everyone he cared about had been safe so far. He smelt their blood but he didn't dream of acting on that thirst with them. There was a brief moment when the vampire hunter that still lingered in him was ready to put an end to the relationship he had started. If he was still a hero, he would keep the people he cared about safe.
With great power there must also come great responsibility, he thought. It's the first thing Spider-Man ever learnt.
However, at the same time, he liked where their friendship had headed despite the terrible timing. It was comforting knowing that his best friend and now girlfriend was sticking by him and prepared to fight for his humanity. It was nice being close to someone who didn't see him as a potential monster.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"It's okay," she replied and shuffled closer, hip bumping him when she was right beside him.
Alan smiled and moved his arm around her waist, comforted when her head rested on his shoulder. Both their heads turned when the door opened and a male student walked in. He halted, trainers squeaking against the tiles when he noticed Bridget was in the toilets too and glanced at the sign.
"Um… this is the guys' toilets."
"Do you mind? I'm having a fucking conversation here," Bridget said, gesturing between her and Alan. She scowled and waved at the boy to leave.
"You're the one in the guys' toilets," he argued.
"Do you want me to kick you out? Fuck off!"
"What?"
"Get out!" Alan and Bridget both snapped.
"The fuck?" the boy muttered but he quickly left, slamming the door behind him. Bridget shook her head, swearing under her breath before she felt a nudge from Alan's shoulder.
"You are just standing around in the boys' toilets now," he reminded her.
She nodded. "Yeah, I should probably go. It's getting kind of weird."