Thank you to everyone who read the last chapters! Thanks to prepare4trouble for your review. ^^

With his Aunt Pam and Uncle Gerry monitoring his attendance, Alan found himself being forced to school the next day. Controlling bloodlust was ten times harder when there were endless students and teachers around. Alan felt like he was suffocating, breathing in every different scent that wandered past him. It was a battle making sure he didn't turn and strike for someone's neck. Every time his teeth ached he clenched his jaw, pressing his top teeth against his bottom to stop the fangs from lengthening.

He entered the changing rooms, cursing that it was time for the lesson he dreaded the most. P.E. When humans moved around too much and too fast their hearts pounded louder and more blood pumped through their veins. More blood meant a stronger scent. He swore under his breath as he joined Sam who was already in his tracksuit bottoms.

"Say you forgot your kit," Sam said.

"And wear a filthy spare? It's okay, I'll put up with it. You could be coughing up blood on the floor and Coach Fletcher will tell you to man up and give him twenty."

Blood, he thought and his teeth ached again. He shut his eyes, leaning against the lockers and tensed up.

"Are you going to be okay?" Sam asked. Alan opened his eyes to see his friend staring back at him solemnly and he nodded, attempting to flash a brave smile. Instead, he grimaced.

"I'm going to have to be," he said. He changed into his kit in a hurry, desperate to get out the changing rooms which felt like a confined space. A confined space full of what he needed the most.

They were outside for the next couple of weeks doing soccer. It was a windy day that had most of the boys grumbling as they buried themselves in their sweatshirts but only Alan had his t-shirt on. He held back a smirk, knowing that the weather could change to freezing conditions and it probably wouldn't bother him like it usually did.

"Cold, ladies? We'll do warm-ups." There was a beam on the coach's face when the boys groaned, even the ones who were part of sports teams.

"You're going to start here." He pointed to the white line and blew his whistle sharply, indicating he wanted the class to move immediately to that spot. Like penguins huddling up together, the boys stumbled towards the line. A skinny boy next to Alan staggered into him and he caught the brief glance of a vein, filled with up. Clenching his fists, Alan kept his eyes straight ahead and remained tense. Although he did elbow the boy away when he got too close again.

"When I blow the whistle twice you're going to jog on the spot. Do that until I blow the whistle twice again," Coach Fletcher said and promptly blew the whistle two times.

It was easy to tell which classmates didn't bother with fitness and who did. Some of the boys were already panting heavily within five minutes of jogging, their shoulders slumping and posture bent forwards.

Coach Fletcher blew the whistle twice again. "Push ups. Twenty from each of you. Go!"

The boy next to Alan let out a high pitched whimper. Most of the boys slowed down from their jog and slowly lay on the ground, getting themselves into position. Alan seemed to fall into position, quick to jump down and catch himself as he straightened his palms against the ground. In seconds he was already on his third push up, hardly out of breath as he put all his weight into his arms.

"Nice work, Frog. Keep it up," Coach Fletcher said.

"Bud, that is so not fair," Sam whispered, even though he wasn't struggling like most. Push ups had become a daily routine in his life as a vampire hunter. Although he still wasn't moving as quickly and smoothly as Alan who seemed in perfect control. He was the first to stand up after completing twenty. Coach nodded in approval and yelled at the rest of the class to hurry up.

"Fuck, Frog, what the hell have you been taking?" Bobby asked, being the next one to finish.

Alan fought back a smirk. "Guess it's a good day for me."

This year had been good for physical education. He'd worked out more with Sam and Edgar, going out for runs and using Michael's weights so they could be top of their game in vampire hunting. If they were serious, they had to be fit to do it. Last year he would have been one of the breathless kids in the first five minutes but this year he had worked hard to get used to doing a lot of exercise.

Today was a totally different experience. Despite the day making him feel sleepy he felt bursts of energy as he started the Coach's notorious warm-ups. He could react and move swiftly and with more grace. Those twenty push ups had been a doddle to complete in no time.

It was hard not to enjoy the strength and speed.

"A night out running around after vampires… no problem. One P.E lesson with Coach Fletcher… I feel like I'm dying." Sam shook his wet hair again, getting out a comb to sort out the wild mess of his hair. He huffed at Alan who didn't have his usual red face after a P.E session.

"You don't even look like you've done P.E."

Alan didn't respond. He was trying to distract himself by tying up his shoelaces slowly, focusing on his breathing instead of the frantic drumming of Sam's pulse. Pains shot through him, muscles and stomach cramping up. He let out a reluctant whimper.

"Bud?"

Alan glanced up at Sam. "I don't feel great."

"Is it… blood?" He mouthed the last word and Alan nodded. He ran his tongue against his teeth and dipped his head.

"Okay." Sam stopped combing his hair and grabbed his school bag. "Let's get out of here."

Alan power walked out of the changing rooms, breathing a sigh of relief when they got out into the empty hallway. He could still hear Sam's heartbeat and smell his warm blood but at least he wasn't around anyone else. Being around one person was easier to manage. He leaned against the lockers, eyes closed and posture slumped. Sam watched him carefully.

"Do you think you could go home if you went to the nurse's office and fake illness?"

"I've played that card already. They'll think I'm trying to ditch like I did yesterday," Alan said. He was about to say more when the door to the changing rooms opened and Bobby walked out, nodding at the boys as he whistled merrily.

"Nice goal today, Frog."

For a change, Bobby was in a good mood with Alan. They had been put on the same team, a nightmare at first because he kept lecturing Alan about doing well and not to let any of them down. Completely unnecessary because Alan did quite well in P.E classes now but Bobby still treat him like the bumbling, clumsy team member he used to be back in Freshman and Sophomore year. But when the game started, Alan dived in immediately. No-one could match his speed as he dribbled the ball around everyone, moving too fast for them to properly react. He pushed all his strength into kicking the ball when he reached the goal but almost knocked the goal keeper unconscious at one point when the football accidentally hit him in the head. The poor boy had fallen backwards, rolling around on the grass and holding his forehead. He had been sent straight to the nurse's office for the rest of the lesson and another reluctant boy had to take his place. Alan had seen a look of pure fear when he reached the goal again later. Luckily, the ball flew in the goal and not into this new goalkeeper's face.

But despite Bobby's good mood with Alan's performance, he suddenly grinned again and came to stand near the two boys at the lockers.

"So, is it true your girlfriend got suspended for ditching with you?" Bobby asked.

Alan's fist clenched. The guy just couldn't keep his mouth shut for one second. There was no off switch to his mouthy persona. No sign that he actually thought about what he said before he opened his mouth. Bobby simply spewed everything on his mind out, not seeming to care if it was annoying, stupid, or insulting.

Alan spoke brusquely through his teeth. "Bridget is not my girlfriend."

"Bobby, butt out," Sam warned.

"I'm just having a talk with you guys. Is that wrong?" He nudged Alan in the side and the youngest Frog's upper lip curled up immediately. "Come on, man, you can tell me."

There was a cheeky grin on Bobby's face. The kind of grin Alan always saw him flash in the changing rooms when he was boasting to his friends about his relationship with Imogen. He glared at the jock and started to feel his blood boil up.

"You totally ditched to do it with the girl, didn't you?"

"Don't be a dick," Sam snapped.

"She's my friend," Alan said, feeling his fist shake. "Nothing has happened."

Bobby snorted in disbelief. "The way you two act? Come on, Frog, she's been all over you since summer. Hey, look, I'm not judging. Honestly, good for you, man. We all thought she was a stuck up prude –."

He was cut off by Alan grabbing the collar of his shirt, turning him into the lockers and slamming his back against them. He moved his forearm to Bobby's throat, pressing down on his neck and pinning him in place.

"Alan!" Sam touched his friend's shoulder but he jerked away.

"I don't want to hear you say anything like that about Bridget," he whispered, pleased to hear his voice come out low and sinister. "That's my friend, okay? You talk shit about her like that again and I'll put you in the hospital. Got it?"

Bobby wheezed, his eyes bulging from the pressure of Alan's arm on his throat. "Dude, I was… messing. Having… laugh… with you."

Alan scowled and pressed his arm tighter against Bobby, causing him to gasp for air again. "I don't find talk like that funny when it's about my friends."

"Bud, he's got the message. Let him go," Sam urged, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder again.

"Yeah… I have," Bobby choked out. He held his hands up in surrender and almost collapsed to the floor when Alan stepped away from him. There was a red mark where Alan's arm had been and he rubbed at his throat, coughing and breathing heavily.

"Come on," Sam said, pulling Alan away. "Alan, come on."

Instead of listening to Sam at first, Alan leaned forward. His eyes narrowed, wanting to smirk at how Bobby jumped back into the lockers at the sight of Alan coming near him. But he needed to keep that fear in Bobby. He wanted to look frightening.

"And if you try and get me into trouble over that, I'll do much worse than shove your head down a toilet. You think you've been tough when you've done that me? I'll make sure you can't fucking walk. Are we clear?"

Bobby nodded and Alan felt another pang of joy at the tremor in his fellow peer's shoulders.

"Crystal," he whispered and Alan nodded sharply.

"Good."

Turning on his heel, Alan stormed past Sam, fists clenched again and his teeth bared in a sneer. Sam had to jog to catch up with him as his friend stormed towards the stairs.

"Okay, you scared him. Now calm down," Sam said.

Alan's lips were still drawn back like he was about to strike. Luckily they were human teeth but Sam still thought his friend needed to calm himself before his teeth started to lengthen. His nostrils flared as he breathed heavily and a low growl rumbled in his throat.

His voice was quiet but clipped. "I want to kill him."

"Hey!" Sam grabbed hold of Alan's jacket and brought him to a halt. "No, you don't. You know what that means if you do."

There was a flash of yellow in Alan's eyes and Sam folded his arms.

"Cool it, bud," he said, pointing to his eyes. It was enough to snap Alan out of his anger who swore and rubbed at his eyes. He poked at his teeth with his tongue and fortunately didn't feel any sharp points.

"Alan?"

Sam watched his friend saunter over to the stairs and collapse on the last step. The ferocity in Alan's face had disappeared, leaving behind a gawping, horrified teenager. He swore again and leaned to drop his head in his hands.

Alan wanted to cry. He really did. His eyes stung as he thought about what he had just done. He had attacked a human being, ready to kill him. He wanted to do it. When Alan had pinned Bobby against the lockers, the boy's pulse raced. Quick, short, fearful beats and it was so tempting to let his fangs grow and tear into Bobby's throat right there without a care who would see or that it was even daytime.

Losing control like that made him feel like a failure. All those times he insisted to everyone, especially his brother, that he could handle what was happening to him sounded more and more like lies.

"Sam, I can't do this," he whispered.

"Yes, you can," Sam said. "Look, it happened to Michael and Bonnie. Laddie freaked out that time at my house, remember? I'm sure Star had her moments. But they still fought. That's all that matters. You can't start giving up because you're feeling hungry. It was always bound to happen."

Alan looked up and shook his head. "I should be able to control it better."

"You're being too hard on yourself."

"I have to be. There is no excuse for letting myself lose it." Alan shuddered and let his head fall into his hands again. Sam didn't really get it. Each time Alan let himself get angry, enjoy the strength and speed he had, or feel like he was ready to chew into someone's neck it felt like losing a large chunk of his humanity that he wasn't able to get back.

There was a vampire inside of him itching to get out and it was starting to take control now.