.
.
"Fenton, correct?" you ask. You're a long-term sub. Ms. Tetslaff unexpectedly had to have major surgery, and won't be returning to teach for months.
"That's me," said the boy, rubbing the back of his neck and grinning just enough for you to see that, yes, those are vampire fangs.
"You're going to need to take those out," you say.
"Take what out?" he asked, blinking blankly, and do his eyes-? No, that's a trick of the light.
"The vampire teeth," you respond. "They're a safety hazard. You could swallow them."
"I'm not wearing vampire teeth. These are my normal teeth. They're just weird." To demonstrate, he pulled back his lips with his fingers, showing you the gums. Sure enough, there are not seams or edges that you can see.
"Huh," you say. "Never mind then."
.
"It's the parents," they said. "I heard they experimented on him. They only needed one to carry on their work, you see."
This might have made sense, except that you've met Jazz Fenton, and she'd somehow managed to make her position on her parents' research, her career aspirations, and her opinions on the city's six most popular restaurants clear within your first five minutes of conversing with her. Which is actually kind of weird by itself.
Either way, you don't think she'll be carrying on her parents work any time soon.
You thank the vendor and pay for your sandwich, periodically glancing the way Danny Fenton went.
.
"He glows, you know," said the teenager. She knows you're not from town. You don't know how. She doesn't go to the school you work at. "In the dark."
"I've never seen him in the dark," you say, but you have seen how he catches the eye.
Until he doesn't.
"We have," said the girl, nodding at her coworkers behind the counter. "He comes at night, sometimes."
"Is it body paint?" you ask, even though you know the girl can't know, and wouldn't bring it up if she thought the solution was so mundane.
"No," she said. "Weston thinks he's dead. Wesley, I mean. Not the one that works here."
You're already hopelessly lost when it comes to the Weston brothers, but you file the information away nonetheless. It could be useful.
"If people really think he's dead," you say, "shouldn't his parents be told?"
The girl snorted. "Have fun with that."
.
Something burned green on the road. You cover your nose with the back of your hand. You see Danny Fenton standing on the other side. His eyes reflected the green light.
"He's like a cat," whispered someone behind you.
.
Two students spoke in whispers in the hallway outside your temporary office.
"He's a vampire. That's the only explanation."
"No, he's not. He can walk around in the sun."
"That's actually a recent addition to the myth-"
You get up and close the door.
.
"I heard him purring."
You don't know how much more of this you can take. You're hoping Ms. Testslaff comes back soon, so you can stop coming here.
"What, is he a cat, now?"
"I don't know, maybe. You're just going to whip out the werewolf theory again, aren't you."
"Better than werecat."
.
"Alien?"
"Would explain why he's so obsessed with astronomy."
Your fellow teachers are in on it, even. You pinch the bridge of your nose. And contemplate the ancient coffee machine. It is worth it, you wonder.
"I think it's more likely he has undiagnosed autism," said the blessedly sane Mr. Lancer. "Or ADHD. Have any of you heard from the our SpEd team recently? I swear, they're dodging my calls."
"If they had the potential to force me to be alone in a room with Danny Fenton," said one of the others, "I'd probably dodge your calls, too. I can't believe you still have the guts to give him detention."
"There's something wrong with that boy," agreed the other.
Mr. Lacer glared down his nose at them. "There's something wrong with you. Are you teachers or not?" He looked at you, as if to compel you to comment, to weigh in on either side.
You shrug. You know you should agree with Lancer, but, well.
You don't want to be alone in a room with Danny Fenton, either.
.
"Maybe he was abducted by aliens."
"Hm. Possible."
You haven't seen Mr. Lancer in the break room for a week.
.
"My little sister saw him walk through a wall, once."
"Do you think that counts more towards ghost, mutant, or vampire?"
"I don't know. Let's ask the teacher."
You pretend not to hear them.
"Let's just put a mark in each column."
.
You're leaving. Finally.
You sigh as you pack the last of your supplies into your car and lean against the door, staring up into the flat blue sky.
Something silver, black, and tan streaks across it.
You could swear it was Danny Fenton.