Wednesday

(Wednesday Morning, August 7th)

"Chad's been grounded before," Brendan mentions. "It wouldn't be the first time he lost his phone privileges."

"He was talking about killing himself," William worries.
They walk up the rounded, white stone stairs, "This is Chad we're talking about. Maybe he was just being dramatic." William gapes at him, and Brendan smiles, "You know, I have an easier time seeing your reaction without your sunglasses."

He glares at him, "I'm too tired for this." before he knocks on the door. "I can't believe you would just call him dramatic."

"That's a good thing." Brendan thinks, "That means this is just a cry for help, before he does think about doing something like that."

William narrows his eyes at him, "And that means we shouldn't be helping him now?"

Brendan opens his mouth, but then the door opens. He smiles at the guard, "We're looking for Chad."

"Chad's grounded," he relays.

"We know," William informs. "We just need to talk to him."

The guard pauses, "I can't let you do that."

"Then get King Charming," he protests.

"William," Brendan reaches for his arm, but he pulls away.

"Get the king's crown down here now," William seethes.

The guard pulls out his phone and waits for an answer, "Yes. Sorry, Your Highness. I have a couple kids at the door worried about Prince Chad." He takes a moment. "I already told them that. They want to see you." The guard eyes over them, "It's William White and…"

"Brendan," the brown-haired boy supplies.

"Brendan," he finishes.

William hears the other end. "I'll be down in a minute."

He sighs, glancing from the sun to the guard, "Can I get some shade?"

The guard steps aside, and William walks into the foyer. Brendan comments, "That's quite the talent you've got, threatening people to get into their homes." William gives him another look, and Brendan frowns, "Do you need to eat?"

He turns away from him, "We're scheduled for tomorrow. I can wait."

"There's seven days in a week," he reminds him. "You're not exactly eating every three days. Maybe you need to be."

"What are you going to do?" William irritably responds. "Change the week to six days instead of seven?"

"We could still figure something out," he offers.

"Thursdays and Sundays," William says, before he turns to him. "I don't want you to think I'm using you."

"You're not," he reassures. "I'm doing this, because we're friends."

"And I don't want that to change." William takes a deep breath, "If we don't keep a strict schedule, what's keeping me from thinking that two days has been three?"

"We would have to write it down," Brendan plans.

"Life gets busy," William frowns. "That's not going to work."

"What's not going to work?" Charming interrupts.

William turns around, as Charming descends the staircase. "Where's Chad?"

Charming frowns, "He's grounded. I told you this yesterday."

"You're grounding him, because he's different," he accuses.

"No," Charming rejects. "I'm grounding him, because if he's isolated enough, he will appreciate the company he gets once he's ungrounded."

"You mean that the next time you put him in a room with a guy and a girl, he'll choose the girl," William rebuttals.

Charming's expression sterns, and Brendan intrudes, "Forgive him. It's Wednesday."

"Don't blame this on my eating," William derails, before he faces King Charming. "I'm worried. Chad said some stuff yesterday. I need to know how he's doing."

"What things?" Charming concerns, but William quiets. "Okay. Look. I have a guard on Chad. He's not going to be able to do anything rash."

"He didn't have to tell you," William argues. "He trusted you, and now you're keeping him from his friends?"

"Well, I can't know which of his friends are encouraging his behavior, can I?"

He pauses, "Chad said if you couldn't accept him, he was going to kill himself. He'd rather do it now, than be sent to some conversation camp where they'd keep him from doing it."

Charming frowns, "You need to go."

"That's it?" he protests.

"Come on," Brendan whispers. "We told him. Let's go."

He steps forward, "You're just going to hear me say that and what? Say it's just a phase? That he'll be okay?"

"He will be okay," Charming reassures, and when William walks towards him, Brendan grasps his arm; however, he pushes him away, and Brendan falls to the floor. William starts for him again, and the guard grabs him. He sees the hand in front of his mouth, bites it, and the guard places his arm to William's neck.

Brendan stands up, "What are you doing?"

After a moment, William ceases to struggle, the guard sets him on the floor, and Chad races down the stairs, "William!"

His father holds up a hand, Chad halts, and the guard says, "He'll be out for a minute."

Chad slowly makes his way down the stairs, "What was going on?"

Brendan informs, "He was worried about you." before Chad sees William's eyes open.

He pushes his sunglasses back up to his nose, "Chad?"

"Hey," he softly offers.

When William gets to his feet, Charming instructs, "Chad. Your friends would like to know if you're okay."

He faces them, "Yeah. I'm fine."

"So, you're not thinking about killing yourself?" he doubts.

Chad slowly shakes his head, "No. I don't think so."

William glances from Chad's father to him, "You're just saying that, because your dad's here. You don't want him to stop you from doing it."

"I'll be able to see people when school starts," Chad frowns. "Being grounded isn't something worth killing yourself over."

William's jaw drops, and Brendan intrudes, "You know that's not why. It would be from all the people telling you to change something you can't."

"Maybe it can," Chad negates. "Maybe this will work."

William frustrates, "You can't just change what you are."

"This isn't some virus that changed my DNA," Chad fumbles. "It's just a feeling, probably fueled by hormones. If I stop now, then maybe I won't be confused later."

Brendan whispers, "Do you really think that?"

Chad falters, before he nods and loudly remarks, "Maybe I do."

After a minute of quiet, Charming takes out his phone, "William. What's your father's phone number?"

"What?" he disbelieves.

"Your father's phone number," he repeats. "I'm going to have him pick you up."

"I can walk," he counters, but when he turns around the guard blocks the door.

"I want to speak with him," Charming calmly insists.

"Why?" William panics.

"You come in here, you charge at me, and you bite my guard," he lists.

"I'm sorry," William apologizes. "Please, don't tell them."

Charming takes a moment, "Would your parents hurt you if I told them?"

"No," he immediately replies.

"Then I see no reason not to."

William glances down, "I don't want them to think I could do something liked that."

"But you did," Charming counters, "and I think they could help."

He faces him, "What if I don't want them to know?"

"Well," Charming thinks, "I have your mother's number, but I'd rather not wake her up for this, especially when she's going to be working later."

When William fails to speak, Brendan steps forward, "Your parents will understand."

He turns to him, "Understand? My mother doesn't drink human blood. And they thought the whole survival-safety thing in my head got taken care of with you. How are they supposed to react, when they find out I've done something I had never done before—something I never did back when I only had blood to heal?"

"You were tired then," Brendan excuses. "Maybe it's a good sign that you did this."

William sadly huffs, "Good."

"I can help you talk to them," Brendan offers.

William sighs, takes out his phone, and faces Charming, "I'll give you the number."

"The suspense is killing me," William sighs, as he sits across from his parents.

His mother informs, "We think your friend's right. The reason why you tried to fight King Charming instead of finding another solution is because you haven't eaten recently."

"You don't drink human blood," he reminds her, "and you're fine."

She hesitates, "That's not entirely true anymore."

"What?"

His father explains, "When your mother was pregnant with you, she started to get cravings." William shifts in his seat, and he continues, "There's a program now. If you show proper documentation, you're allowed three blood bags per week."

"Is that legal?" William wonders.

"Blood donations can only be used for transfusions up to six weeks," his mother answers. "The hospital set up this program as a productive way to get rid of the ones about to expire."

"If you were to enter the program," his father suggests, "you could use the bags on the days you're not getting a donation."

"It should make it easier to wait," she agrees.

William takes a moment, "I heard that hospital blood doesn't taste good."

"It's not about taste," his mother dismisses. "It's about necessity. If you need it, you will have something here. So long as you can stomach it, it should work."

"It sounds like you've made my mind up for me," he interprets.

His father speaks up, "What are you going to do when your donor gets sick?" and William eyes the table. "Even if you think you can wait through the fourth day, you're still going to need a backup."

William looks at his mother, "How public is this?"

"You shouldn't worry about what others think," she opinionates.

"I don't care about what people think." He discerns, "I care about my future. I'm not going to be allowed to play sports in college if they think I have an unfair advantage."

"All of this for sport?" his father questions.

"What else am I good at?" William asks.

"Well," he thinks, "you're good at math."

"Math?" William half laughs.

"You like to read," his mother inputs.

William leans back in his chair, "Great. Maybe I can be a teacher."

"You could be a gym teacher," his father smiles.

"Ugh," he groans, before he stands from the table.

His father frowns, "What's wrong?"

"I'm tired," William complains. "I'm going back to bed."

"It's nine PM."

"That doesn't make me not tired," William irritably responds.

His father faces her, "Withdrawals?"

"Probably," she agrees.

William gapes, "I don't use drugs."

"No," his mother agrees, "but blood can act as a high. It makes you feel better, stronger."

"It gives you energy," his father adds. "You've been sleeping less, since Brendan offered to be a donor."

William tiredly replies, "Okay. And?"

"I'm going to the blood bank Saturday," she informs. "I'd like you to come with me."

"What if someone sees?" William worries.

"We can be discreet," she reassures. "You can wear a hood, and I can have a hat."

"People will still recognize you," he doubts.

"Once we're inside, it won't even matter," She counters. "Anyone volunteering there is going to be an ally to us."

"Or they might think giving carnivores expired blood is better than them attacking people," William rebuttals. "Some of them might just tolerate us."

"I haven't gotten exposed, yet," his mother points out. "I think we're safe."

"Whatever," William agrees. "I'm too tired to argue."

- Posted: 06/01/2020